EMPIRE

BOOK THREE OF THE UNIFICATION WAR TRILOGY

JOSHUA DALZELLE

Copyright © 2022 by Joshua Dalzelle

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

CONTENTS

Untitled

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Also by Joshua Dalzelle

Afterword

Joshua Dalzelle

©2022

Digital Edition

The Black Fleet Saga in order:

The Black Fleet Trilogy

Warship

Call to Arms

Counterstrike

The Expansion Wars Trilogy

New Frontiers

Iron and Blood

Destroyer

The Unification War Trilogy

Battleground

No Quarter

Empire

1

Admiral Jackson Wolfe stood pensive, watching as his long-time mentor was sworn in as the President of the United Terran Federation…or at least what was left of it.

He was alone in the upper observation lounge of the warship he had made a legend: Nemesis. On the wall-sized screen, President Joseph Marcum stood tall, the beautiful backdrop of Lake Geneva behind him, as the ceremony wrapped up. Jackson wasn't uneasy because he thought Marcum was a bad choice, quite the contrary. What he was nervous about was the landslide election of a warrior president could mean only one thing. The Federation remnant wanted blood, and they thought an old warhorse like Marcum would give it to them.

It had been just over nine months since a faction within the Eastern Star Alliance had launched an attack on Federation worlds so brutal it almost didn't seem real. Antimatter warheads had been used on civilian planets, wiping out entire populations and crippling the Federation. The planets targeted were key worlds for leadership, infrastructure, and strategic defense. What had been left of the Federation's fleet had limped all the way back to the last place they were wanted…Earth.

The birthplace of humanity had relented when the first ships had arrived, promising to allow the Federation safe harbor in the Solar System in orbit over Saturn but adamantly refusing to take sides in the conflict between the two powerful nations. The Earth Defense Fleet was an aging yet still formidable force, but Earth was nervous about getting involved in a war that had escalated to the point of one side destroying entire planets. When Vadim Kohl had authorized a strike on populated worlds with his antimatter bombs, the entire paradigm for armed conflict had changed. Billions of lives had been snuffed out in one unspeakably savage action that would haunt humanity for thousands of years. Assuming they survived that long.

Jackson's wife and kids had been living on one of the planets that had been hit. If it hadn't been for Pike swooping in and grabbing them… Well, that was a rabbit hole he'd rather not go down. Now, Jillian Wolfe and the twins were down on the planet below, staying with his family in Kentucky. He wasn't sure if that meant they were completely safe given the madness that had taken hold in the Eastern Star Alliance, but it was the best he could do.

"He's the president of nothing," a voice said from the hatchway. Jackson turned and saw the CENTCOM Chief of Staff, Admiral Pitt, standing there watching the screen. "We received word just before the ceremony started. New America has seceded from the Federation. We expect Britannia to follow closely behind."

"Which means 1st and 4th Fleets are steaming home?" Jackson asked.

"Most of the ships are," Pitt said, "but not all. Some commanders recognize that a small, independent nation is simply prey right now. They're choosing to remain and fight. Not to make your life any harder than it already is, Admiral, but what you have here in the Solar System is probably all you're going to get. You think you can make it work?"

"I have an ace or two up my sleeve," Jackson said evasively. "We can talk about that later. It's not something I can decide to activate without approval of the acting government." Pitt's eyebrows shot up at that, but he said nothing. They both watched as the ceremony finished, and President Joseph Marcum began his prepared remarks.

"It is said that weak men create hard times," Marcum began. Jackson winced a bit at the tone his former boss had decided to go with.

"We find ourselves on the precipice of hard times indeed, reeling after an atrocity on a scale that is…difficult to imagine. The Eastern Star Alliance formed because we failed to come together after the Phage War, and enclaves that felt they were aggrieved broke off. Then again, we failed to come together, and that same alliance conspired with another deadly alien power bent on our eradication.

"Now, as we still fail to come together and talk through our differences, that same alliance has murdered over four billion of our people and rendered four planets completely uninhabitable. That number…four billion. It's almost too big to wrap our minds around. As we try to find some way to mourn those lost on New Sierra, Columbiana, Arcadia, and New London, we also understandably want to see those who did this brought to justice. We want to make sense of it. For centuries, our species has lived in peace and has only recently been reminded of how hard and cruel the universe can be.

"Rest assured, my fellow citizens, that despite the devastation wrought, there will be no place these weak men can hide that we will not hunt them down. In orbit above me even as I am speaking, the Federation warship, Nemesis, is preparing our response with none other than Admiral Jackson Wolfe leading the fleet."

Marcum paused and looked out over the mixed crowd of Federation refugees and Earth citizens who had shown up to see the new president.

"We will endure. This will not break us, though it may not feel like it right now as people desperately wait for word of their loved ones and friends. The ESA will be made to answer for what they've done. And then after, once we've eliminated the threat of the Eastern Star Alliance once and for all, we will do what humans always do: We will rebuild."

The new Federation President walked away from the podium as a respectable swell of applause followed his short, poignant speech. Jackson could only shake his head after he'd been mentioned by name. Marcum was banking heavily on the legend of Admiral Wolfe, and then rolling the dice Jackson could make good on it. Given how little he had to work with, that wasn't a bet he'd be willing to take.

"Sounds like you have your work cut out for you, Admiral," Pitt said. Jackson looked over and saw that his old mentor hadn't actually been mocking him.

"I think that we're all going to—" An alarm cut off Jackson as the lighting along the deck flashed red to indicate a general alert.

"Admiral Wolfe to the bridge, Admiral Wolfe to the bridge," Captain Barrett's voice sounded over the intercom. "ESA forces detected near the system boundary."

"Son of a bitch!" Jackson snarled. They just couldn't catch a break, not even a bit of time to regroup and catch their breath. He climbed to his feet and walked with Pitt from the observation lounge, not wasting the energy to run. If the enemy was at the boundary of the Solar System, they were still weeks away from any populated areas.

"Do we know who it is?" He stormed onto the bridge, taking note of who was at each of the main stations.

"Not yet, Admiral," Barrett said. "Captain Risher is preparing to warp hop in outside of effective weapons range for a more precise scan and to act as a com relay at your order, sir."

"Tell him to proceed," Jackson said. "The Broadsword is clear to move closer, but they're not to engage unless ordered or fired upon."

The com officer relayed his orders to the Super Valkyrie-class destroyer that was in formation with her sister ships over Saturn. Taskforce Wolfpack had been officially rolled into CENTCOM's command structure following the horrific attack that destroyed not only New Sierra but the orbiting platform, effectively destroying the fleet's entire command and control apparatus. Jackson had kept the three remaining Super Valkyries in the outer system, not wanting to draw too much attention to them as Earth had requested the Nemesis be on-hand for the protection treaty signing between Earth and the United Terran Federation.

During the previous mission to Xinjia, the ESA's capital system, Jackson lost two of the advanced destroyers to the enemy. The Saber and Gladius had both been destroyed when the former was hit with a lucky missile strike and the former flew into the debris. The Saber's CO, Senior Captain Richard Ellsworth, had been someone Jackson had relied on and considered a friend. Losing Ellsworth while fighting Vadim Kohl only deepened his already considerable hatred for the ESA admiral.

"You killed Kohl," Pitt said quietly next to him. "Could this be his replacement coming to make a statement?" Jackson didn't answer at first. His mind was back in the Xinjia System, reliving when his four destroyers fell on Kohl's battlecruiser, Implacable, like a pack of ravenous wolves. They'd struck hard and fast, taking down the larger, more powerful ship before her crew even knew they were being hit from all sides.

"Unlikely," Jackson said. "From what we were able to figure out right before getting to Xinjia was that Kohl was operating well outside of the ESA's chain of command. His taskforce was more like a privateer fleet funded by the treasury, but only answerable to the cabal."

"Wild shit," Pitt said, sitting down in the command seat with a groan. When Jackson gave him a flat look, he just smirked, making no move to get up. "Indulge me. I haven't been on the bridge of a starship in years."

"Don't get too comfortable, sir," Jackson said. "If they're here for a fight, you're going back down to the surface." Pitt raised his hands in surrender and leaned back in the seat, a contented look on his face. Jackson could relate. He fought putting a star on his shoulder for as long as he could, preferring the direct, focused job of being a ship captain.

"Saber is away, sir," Commander Hori reported from the OPS station. "Time to target…forty-seven minutes."

"Forty-seven minutes." Pitt shook his head. "I still remember when it was two full days to climb out of orbit, then another four weeks to the jump point." Jackson just grunted, now focused on the main display, and the tracks being populated by CIC. So far the long-range detection grids had spotted thirty-four ships. Not an insignificant force.

"Have the Cutlass and Katana standing by," Jackson said. "I want them ready to back up the Broadsword if Risher runs into trouble."

"The Nemesis, sir?" Barrett asked.

"On alert, but holding," Jackson said. "We're carrying something too valuable to risk in a tussle with the Alliance right now."

"Understood, sir."

During the Saber's short transit time to the system edge, the ESA fleet made no threatening moves. They deployed into a standard holding formation of a simple, three-wide column with the ships packed in tight enough they could track each other visually. It was definitely not a deployment strategy you'd use for attack or defense, but nothing the Alliance had done the last few years had been expected, so Jackson kept his guard up.

"Saber is in position," OPS reported. "Putting them through on the open taskforce channel."

"Captain Risher, this is Admiral Wolfe. What do you see?"

"No surprises, Admiral," Risher said. "They're stacked up and sitting like the passive grid indicated. We're hitting them with full high-power active scan, and we're not seeing anything out of the ordinary save that they're here at all. There is one kicker, sir. Eleven of these ships are from the Xinjian home defense fleet, the same ones you were assisting."

"Well that is interesting," Jackson murmured. "Have you identified the lead ship yet?"

"Standby, Admiral," Risher said. "They're requesting a channel. We'll route it to the Nemesis so you can talk to them, sir."

"This is Senior Captain Chang…formerly of the Xinjia Homeguard Fleet," the audio began after the two ships negotiated the connection. The channel was then routed down to the Nemesis over the taskforce's Bluebird network.

"This is Admiral Wolfe," Jackson said when the com officer nodded he was live. "It's a small galaxy, Captain Chang. I suppose we should start with what you're doing here."

"Admiral Wolfe! You're alive!" The relief in Chang's voice was evident. During the Xinjia operation, the taskforce had played games to make it look like Jackson had actually been on the Saber, and then that ship was destroyed. Chang must have assumed Jackson was dead after that. "Sir, once the Implacable was destroyed, another fleet moved into the system. Xinjia has fallen and is now under the control of a group calling itself the Terran Unity. They landed troops and seized the capital city and moved down a carrier with starfighters to keep the local populace under control."

"Are you saying you are refugees, Captain?" Jackson asked.

"We are volunteers, Admiral," Chang said. "I formally surrender my command to you, and to the United Terran Federation. There are thirty-four ships with me under my direct command, there are another sixty-three ships and crews defecting from other units throughout the Alliance. They are holding in another system so we avoided any misunderstandings before we spoke."

"Prudent. And appreciated," Jackson said, pacing the bridge. "I hope you can understand my position, Captain. The ESA has engaged us asymmetrically since the end of the Expansion War. My leadership will assume this is a plot. As a show of good faith, perhaps you would tell me how you knew we'd be here in the Solar System."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Admiral, but the worlds leaving the Federation are looking to cut a deal with the Alliance to make sure their planets aren't the next targets of Kohl's antimatter bombs," Chang said. "They have told Alliance intelligence operatives the remainder of the Federation fleet was mustering in the Solar System."

"Standby for a moment, Captain," Jackson said and signaled to the com officer to kill the audio. He turned to a pensive looking Admiral Pitt. "What do you think, sir?"

"I think I wish I'd stayed retired," Pitt said, rubbing his eyes. "Wolfe, this is your show. You do what you think is best, and I'll back you all the way. For all intents and purposes, the Federation military is yours. Whether we stand or fall will depend on you."

"No pressure there, sir," Jackson said sourly, glancing to make sure the crew wasn't too interested in the conversation. Pitt was being uncharacteristically emotive in front of crewmembers. Perhaps the stress was finally eating away at that legendary control, and the normally stoic officer was hanging by a thread. He waved to get Chang back. "Still with me, Captain?"

"Of course, sir."

"Go ahead and send a com drone to where your remaining forces are mustered and tell them to hang tight," Jackson said. "I'm inclined to extend no small amount of trust to you after you did the same in your home system, but I have a duty to my people, and to my crews. Trust but verify."

"Absolutely understandable, Admiral. My ships are good on fuel and air, but we were only provisioned for in-system operations when we had to break away and escape the Unity's forces."

"Understood, Captain," Jackson said. "We can get a supply run together and make sure you're not going hungry out there. When they arrive, I'd like you to transfer to one of our ships and come down for a face-to-face meeting."

"My thanks, Admiral. I will, of course, be glad to meet with you. There is much to discuss, I think."

"Stand fast, and we’ll get this sorted. Wolfe out.”

“I’ll coordinate with the Earth Defense Fleet and start getting a supply convoy together, Admiral,” Barrett said.

“Thanks, Captain,” Jackson said. “You’re still on, Broadsword?”

“Here, Admiral,” Captain Risher said.

“Maintain overwatch, Captain. I’m sending Katana and Cutlass out to the boundary and cutting the system into patrol sectors,” Jackson said. “If this is a trick, let’s not make It too easy for them to sneak in while we’re focused on Chang.”

“Yes, sir. We’ll keep an eye on them.”

“You’ll have a resupply convoy coming uphill sometime within the next couple of days but, other than that, it should be a quiet watch. Nemesis out."

"What's the plan?" Pitt asked.

"Get them replenished, observe them during that operation, and then get them the hell out of here," Jackson said. "I'll send Chang back to where his other ships are loitering, and we'll hold them there until we figure out what we're even going to do. I need to have a long and unpleasant conversation with you and President Marcum ASAP."

"All conversations with you and Marcum are unpleasant," Pitt said. "Why is this one going to be so bad you're giving me a warning?"

"It's about our passenger who’s sitting in a secure cargo hold," Jackson said.

"Fuck," Pitt said, letting it out in a long, exasperated breath. "I almost wish you'd just buried that thing on Exeter Base."

"When I'm done briefing you on its true nature, that could still be an option you want to keep open, and I will live with that," Jackson said. "But try to keep an open mind."

2

"Captain Russo. How may we help you, sir?"

"You can get the fuck out of my way," Vincent Russo growled at the armed Marine blocking his path. He was on the planet Xinjia at the best hospital in the capital as the medical staff treated Admiral Vadim Kohl for the life-threatening injuries he sustained during the battle with Jackson Wolfe.

Wolfe's destroyers had caught Kohl's flagship, the battlecruiser Implacable, out in the open and alone. They'd swarmed them and ripped the bigger ship to pieces in the span of minutes. Russo, the ship's captain—former captain—had been knocked out and Vadim Kohl had dragged him into an escape pod before the superstructure was blown apart. Kohl hadn't been able to get his own harness on in time, however, and he'd been thrown around the interior of the pod during the launch. By the time Makov's ships had found them, he was barely clinging to life, and Russo wasn't much better.

"My orders are quite clear, Captain. Nobody sees him."

"That's my commanding officer in there. A man who is near death because he was saving my life. I want to see him," Russo said, stepping into the Marine's face. "Call whoever you have to in order to make that happen, Corporal."

"Please, calm yourself, sir," another Marine said, stepping around the orderly desk. "I will make a call and try to clear you."

"Thank you," Russo said, stepping away and composing himself.

Captain Vincent Russo was in a dangerous position, and he knew it. His official service record stated he was an ex-pat from New America that had worked through the ranks to be a trusted ship commander under Admiral Vadim Kohl, but that was all a clever fabrication. The truth was that he was a deep-cover asset for the Federation and a full Agent in the CIS. He'd been under such deep cover that when his handler at the CIS had been burned on an unrelated matter, Russo found himself stranded behind enemy lines. He'd done his best to derail Kohl's plans from within without being too obvious, as well as feeding intel to the Federation when he could, but he was finished. He couldn't go on. After he'd learned what the cabal had done, executing an attack that wiped out entire planets, he knew there was no turning back.

After he'd recovered enough to move about he'd come down to the hospital intent on killing Kohl, and then himself. If there was judgment after this life, he had no doubt his deeds would earn his tarnished soul a spot in the deepest pits of Hell. At least he'd go knowing he'd taken Kohl with him.

"Captain, you are cleared to go in." The Marine at the desk broke him out of his thoughts. "Please, hold your arms out so we can scan you."

Russo held his arms and stood with his feet apart while the other Marine patted him down and ran a scanner over his body, looking for weapons or any other device that posed a risk. Even for someone as close to the inner circle of the cabal as Russo was, there was constant suspicion and distrust. He had no doubt that once they secured Xinjia and officially declared it the seat of the new Terran Unity, all of Kohl's people would be executed and then Makov and Chan would begin their dance to see who would rule it all.

"Follow the corporal, and he will take you to Admiral Kohl's suite. I apologize for the inconvenience, Captain."

"Yes, well, no harm done," Russo said, moving his service cap back under his arm. "You're only doing your jobs. Lead the way, Corporal."

Both Marines visibly relaxed as the high-ranking fleet officer decided not to make an issue out of being held up. Russo followed the young corporal through the heavy security doors and into the sterile, white halls of the trauma ward. Kohl was being kept in an advanced ICU unit, the type of facility only the well-connected and very wealthy could enjoy on the planet Xinjia.

Once he reached the suite Kohl was being treated in, his hopes of executing his plan evaporated. The admiral had armed Marines standing sentry by his bed, and there were six more medical staff hovering about the room. When he looked over into the connected sitting room he was startled to see Councilman Chan as well as a woman named Ella Ersk. She was a minister within Alliance Intelligence and a woman he tried to avoid as much as possible. If anyone could discover who he really was, it would be her.

"Captain Russo," Chan said with a smile that didn't touch his eyes. "Please, join us."

"You've very kind, sir, but I was just checking on Admi—"

"That was not a request, Captain," Ersk said. Russo swallowed and went into the well-appointed nook to sit with the two members of the cabal he feared the most.

"We were about to send for you later this week, so this is fortuitous," Chan said. "Your loyalty to Kohl is commendable, Captain. You came here just to check on him?"

"Of course," Russo said, trying to inject some surprise into his voice. "Why else would I be here?"

"Why indeed?" Ersk asked.

"The man saved my life and in the process almost lost his," Russo said. "When I was knocked unconscious, he—"

"I read your after-action report, Captain." Chan waved him off. "I don't need the highlights again. Tell me, you were in tactical control of the Implacable during the Xinjia operation?" Russo could already see where this was going.

"As the captain my job was to execute the orders of the admiral," he said carefully. "I understand the loss of the ship was—"

"Inexcusable?" Chan asked. "Yes, it was. Kohl's bumbling and your inability to operate around him has cost us yet another irreplaceable mainline warship, Captain. Is your loyalty to Kohl so absolute you happily drove your ship out of cover and into an open stretch of space, practically inviting Jackson Wolfe to attack you with his faster, stealthier ships?"

"My loyalty to the cause is absolute, Councilman," Russo said, feeling like he stood on cracking ice. "I was placed in service to Admiral Kohl. It was not my place to question his orders, sir."

"Loyalty is required, but blind loyalty is useless, Captain," Chan said. "Could you not see that Kohl's continued failures put the cause at risk? At what point would have you have stepped in?"

"I see your point, sir," Russo said. Now, he was thoroughly confused. With Ersk there, he assumed he was about to be taken to a military facility and shot, or tortured for information. Their line of questioning had him turned around. He's spent so much time pretending to be a ship captain, he was rusty when it came to being an intelligence operative.

"No excuses? No deflecting blame?" Ersk asked.

"No, ma'am. I was the captain. In the end, the responsibility to the ship and her crew was mine."

"My estimation of you has risen somewhat, Captain Russo," Chan said. "While you have had some incredible lapses in judgment, you appear to not be just another sycophant, hoping Kohl's good fortunes dribble off onto your plate. You say your loyalty is to the cause? To the Unity and everything that idea stands for?"

"Yes, sir," Russo said.

"We shall see. Ella, he's all yours. If you'll excuse me." Chan slid out of his seat and left without looking at either of them. Russo was now certain he was about to die.

"Have you ever heard the word Abyss used by Kohl in a context that made no sense to you, Captain?" Ersk asked.

"No, I haven't," Russo said. "The admiral has a…flair…for dramatic speech so the word has been used, but the context was always quite clear."

"Yes, he is a pompous windbag," Ersk agreed. "We're going to need your help, Captain, and that help is going to come in the form of trying to extract information from the admiral, information he will have not wanted us to know about."

"The admiral was keeping secrets from the others?" Russo asked.

"Of course. They all are. But this is different. There is something Kohl has, or at least knows where it is, that we will need. The Federation is fractured, likely beyond repair, but that only makes the forces coming for us all the more dangerous," Ersk leaned back in her seat. "There was something developed from our partnership with the Darshik. Something that could ensure our victory here in Xinjia becomes permanent and let the Unity control all of human space. We think Kohl knows where it went."

"You lost it?" Russo asked incredulously.

"It was hardly something we could let the Alliance Council know about," Ersk scoffed. "Kohl was in command of our covert development facilities at that time. He was supposed to be overseeing the development of the new ship classes being rolled out of Jin Pak's shipyards, but we think he may have become more…ambitious. Either way, we've lost the weapon and need to recover it before the Federation regroups and hits this system with everything they have."

"An Alliance superweapon? You mean the antimatter bombs weren't bad enough?" Russo asked before catching himself. "Those seemed to be pretty effective deterrents."

"They are certainly impressive," Ersk said. "But there is something else out there that will keep our enemies at bay. Can we count on you, Captain?"

"Anything for our cause," Russo said, hoping he sounded convincing. His heart pounded at the idea of another secret mass-casualty weapon in the hands of the cabal after what they'd just done with a handful of antimatter bombs. Worse still, he had no way to warn the Federation now. The CIS had caught on to their trick with the Bluebird network and had disabled all of their transceivers remotely.

"I hope you mean anything, Captain. By the time this is all over, we will all have been forced to do things that will haunt us for the rest of our days."

3

"Why are we standing in a cargo hold with this…thing?"

"Is he going to be this disagreeable the entire time?" the onyx monolith dominating the space said, its voice coming from everywhere.

"I don't have to put up with this shit from a computer," President Marcum fumed.

"Sir, please," Jackson said. "And, Aegis, a little less attitude. You're talking to the president."

"Very well," Aegis said.

"You've got us here, Wolfe. What's this about?" Pitt asked.

"I want to explain the connections between the Mickeys, Bluebird, and Aegis…and how it can help dig us out of this hole we're in," Jackson said. "But I'm going to warn you, you won't like where this leads us."

"I like where we are now a lot less I can guaran-goddamn-tee you that," Marcum growled. "Spit it out. What's the connection?"

"Aegis?" Jackson said, gesturing to the two other men in the room.

"I was developed as the final work product of a secret program you knew as Prometheus," Aegis began. "I was designed with help from the Cube, but I assure you I am an entirely different machine. The goal with my design was not simply an advanced computer or a scientific oddity, however. I was to be the centerpiece of a strategic weapon system that would tilt the odds of virtually any battle in our favor."

"What the fuck is that thing saying? You were designing a sentient weapon while you were running Prometheus, Wolfe?!" Pitt asked.

"Let's keep all questions until the end, sir," Jackson said.

"The next step in Admiral Wolfe and Doctor Ito's plan was the Modular Constructed, Mission Scalable Deployment System—or Mickeys—ship design architecture," Aegis went on. "The last component of the triad was Bluebird, also developed within Project Prometheus.

"When these elements are combined, you have a logistical capability of rapidly designing, building, and deploying ships, a tactical computer system capable of controlling them all simultaneously, and a superluminal communications network that can allow that to happen regardless of distance. The Version 3 Bluebird high-bandwidth networks were the last component we were missing. Now, we have it."

"Holy. Shit," Marcum whispered. "What have you done, Wolfe? When I asked about Aegis, you told me it was just to run predictive combat models and pattern recognition."

"It can do all that." Jackson shrugged. "It can also control a swarm of mission-configured warships in a manner that makes it almost impossible to defend against. Look at it as an added feature."

"You think this is fucking funny?" Marcum fumed. "You know what this is?! You've build another Phage out of metal and wire!"

"Tell me this isn't what it looks like, Admiral," Pitt said.

"What it is, gentlemen, is a failsafe against being overrun and almost wiped out…for the third time," Jackson snapped. "We've had three wars of attrition, each with opponents that had us outnumbered, outgunned, or both. When I was tasked with weaponizing still-functional Vruhan tech left over from the Phage War, I didn't realize that meant only develop advanced weaponry that didn't make people uncomfortable. Just because our enemy utilized something against us to great effect doesn't mean we shouldn't explore those options out of fear."

"We're not talking about a ship design or plasma weapon, damn it! We're talking about an intelligence that—"

"Can be controlled, Mr. President," Jackson said forcefully. "Aegis is not a fully autonomous system with the capability of evolving or producing units on its own. The Phage was a concept taken too far because the Vruhan were too squeamish to see the aftermath of their creation's work. We will not be making the same mistake. At any time we wish, Aegis can be decoupled from the system."

"I…think we owe it to our people to at least talk this through, Joseph," Pitt said, staring at Aegis as if It were a dragon that might eat him.

"I'd rather not," Marcum said. "Why are we even entertaining this? Can't you put together a taskforce with what we have? What about all of those Alliance ships we have defecting?"

"Oh, get real, sir." Jackson threw his hands up in disgust. "Even if I had three years to try and train the crews to work together as a cohesive unit, which I don't, the ships are old, leftover shit from 3rd Fleet. The forces Makov and Chan have at their disposal would wipe us out decisively and quickly."

"Why wasn't I made aware of the full scope of the Aegis program?" Marcum asked quietly.

"It wasn't because we were pulling a fast one on you, sir," Jackson said. "It was because of security leaks primarily, and also because you needed plausible deniability. The Federation needed you and, judging by your reaction to even the idea of Aegis, your enemies would have used it against you if it went public."

"I feel like that wasn't your choice to make, Wolfe."

"But I made it anyway. If you want me to step down, I will happily resign my commission. If you do that, just do me the favor of carefully considering the merits of this system. We don't have to throw the lives of thousands of spacers away to beat these people, sir."

"What about the spacers on their side?" Pitt asked. Jackson turned to give him an incredulous look.

"They've made their decision," he said coldly. "Anybody who still stands with these people after what they've done will get no quarter from me."

"Tell me about the safeguards," Marcum said.

"Aegis has no ability to access the outside world except through this data connection," Jackson said, pointing at the large connector near the base of the machine. "It has no hardware that allows it to access networks wirelessly. There are explosive squib charges on the connection itself that will sever the line, and the remote signal comes via a miniaturized Bluebird connection. Even if the ship Aegis is on is boarded and commandeered, we can remotely disable it.

"There are also a few standalone modules within the system that can exert control over Aegis but can't be influenced by it. Think of those as software guard dogs to keep it within the set parameters of the user."

"How adaptive is it?" Pitt asked. "Can it evolve like the Phage did?"

"Aegis, go ahead and answer," Jackson said.

"My systems are tightly regulated within the framework Admiral Wolfe described. While I am highly adaptive and can respond to an evolving battlespace near-instantaneously, I cannot operate outside the set rules of engagement determined by the user."

"Which is exactly what an evil genius AI would say if it was trying to get you to plug it into five hundred warships," Marcum grumbled, but his initial anger at discovering what Aegis actually was seemed to be fading.

"Is Aegis fully activated yet?" Pitt asked.

"No. I won't do that without approval from the civilian oversight given the unique nature of this weapon," Jackson said.

"At least you were that smart," Marcum said. "That will help if you expect me to sell this to people. Your reputation for doing what you want, when you want can be a double-edged sword. So, what's involved in hooking this thing into the Mickey fleet? Flick a switch?"

"The high-bandwidth Bluebird transceivers are already installed in the ships, but they're not initialized. Someone would need to physically board each ship and bring the remote networks online and add the software to take the ship from crewed to autonomous," Jackson said. "We have the rest of the stuff we need here on Nemesis."

"Why build the ships to have crew spaces at all?" Pitt asked.

"When not tied into Aegis, my thought was that the ships could still be operated as standard starships. When we're not at war, the Fleet does a lot of civil and humanitarian missions. It also makes them easier to work on if it was designed with life support systems and corridors."

"Sound planning." Pitt nodded.

"To be honest, sir, that was Dr. Ito's idea. I was looking to cut corners on the budget at every turn and my first designs were small, compact drone ships. Building them with crew spaces also let us keep the secret of what they really were from the ESA spies we had at Eternis Pax," Jackson said before turning back to Marcum. "Are you sold on this, sir?"

"Not even fucking close, but I also have no viable alternative," Marcum sighed heavily. "Go ahead and get your crews prepping the ships. I'll call an emergency meeting with what's left of Parliament and get a simple up or down vote on using Aegis. You really think this abomination can save the day?"

"It's still only five hundred ships, so let's not expect any miracles," Jackson warned. "But, yes, I think if used strategically Aegis can end this war before the Alliance has the time to wipe out any more planets."

"What's your strategy?" Pitt asked.

"We need to retake Xinjia," Jackson said. "We don't have the time or resources to go chasing them all over the place, but if we hit their capital again, they'll have to come and face us on our terms. I'll take Aegis only for this. The Super Valkyries will be put at the head of three taskforces made up the remaining regular fleet assets we have and sent to defend vital infrastructure like the Eternis Pax shipyards."

"Let's go down to the surface and try to sell this before we start drafting plans," Marcum said. "We also need to talk to Perez and find out what the CIS knows about the enemy's current posture. Shockingly, he didn't lose anybody from his organization when the numbered fleets started abandoning us."

"CIS recruits, even the analysts and admin staff, are conditioned from the start to shirk all of their regional loyalties that could cause conflicts of interest," Pitt said. "Controversial when it was implemented years ago, but it looks like it works in our favor now."

"I'll have a shuttle prepped," Jackson said, shutting down the user interface for Aegis it couldn't start jabbering at whoever happened to come into the hold. "Where is Parliament being housed right now? Geneva?"

"Nope. The old United States, or North American Union I guess would be more accurate," Marcum said. "City of Philadelphia. We're using some historical buildings for general assembly, and then modern, secure offices for daily operations."

"Fitting, I suppose," Jackson said. He ushered his guests out before closing and locking the hatch.

Marcum was from New America but had very little connection to the former United States that had sent the first settlers to the planets that become that enclave. By the time Marcum had been born, the US hadn't existed for nearly two hundred years as the nation had absorbed its northern and southern neighbor to become a new country in order to meet the economic and military threats of its day. Now, for all intents and purposes, Earth was unified under a single, global government based out of Geneva, Switzerland that handled the largescale tasks of managing the Solar System. Regional nation states were then responsible for themselves but still answered to Geneva.

As someone born and raised in rural Kentucky, Jackson was steeped in the culture and history of the old United States and thought of the old, mythological figures that had forged that country in Philadelphia so long ago. Jackson was a realist, and he knew the damage to the Federation was too great. The nation wouldn't survive. His job was now to make sure humanity had a chance to build something better that wouldn't be under the thumb of people like Makov, Chan, and Kohl. He wasn't fighting to save what was already lost, he was fighting to make sure the people had a future determined by themselves not self-appointed rulers who took it by force.

4

"So, these are the new versions that can broadcast video?"

"The Version 3, yes."

"Only ten boxes?"

"After the debacle you caused with your mad dog admiral wiping out four populated planets, you're lucky we're still agreeing to this partnership." The man setting down the last of the plastic transit cases onto the deck of the Alliance Intelligence trawler was a former Agent for the CIS. Now, he was a private contractor, hiring himself out as a fixer to anyone who could afford him. He cared nothing for the politics or morality of any given situation, only that he was paid. That being said, the unimaginable destruction the Alliance had unleashed with their antimatter bombs had given him pause about his current employer.

"Kohl has been dealt with." Ella Ersk had been a high-ranking official within Alliance Intelligence and over a long career had cultivated many useful relationships on both sides of the border. She had been working for Councilmen Makov and Chan, helping direct intel resources to them without raising suspicion and advising them with it came to strategy against both the Alliance government and the Federation.

"Dead?"

"Not yet." Ersk shrugged. "He still has one more task to perform for us but, rest assured, the man will never step foot on the bridge of a starship again. That's mostly because he has a shattered spine and won't be stepping foot onto anything ever again. He's paralyzed from the waist down."

"My employer will probably ask you to keep him alive," the man said. "When this is over, and your group takes control, the people will want their pound of flesh for all the…collateral damage. In return, he'll make sure Wolfe is available to be put on trial."

"While it is unfortunate Wolfe hasn't actually done anything to merit a trial, the citizens of the Alliance will still need to see him burn," Ersk said. "The lack of facts are inconvenient but not insurmountable. Makov will likely agree to this deal."

"Our principles can work it out directly. These boxes are paired directly to their counterparts, not going through the com routing system like the last ones you had. There won't be any way for our side to know you have them."

"I'm glad we were able to make this arrangement," Ersk said. "It will be vital to coordinate our efforts precisely at this junction. Was there anything else?"

"Not unless you have anything to pass to them through me," the man said. "Otherwise, I'm out of here."

"Where did you get a Broadhead?" Ersk asked, looking in through the open hatch of the airlock.

"It's an older version built as an executive transport. Still gets the job done, though. Hopefully, I don't have to give it back once this gig is over. I've gotten used to traveling about freely without having to hitch a ride on a damn Fleet barge."

"Safe travels," Ersk said as the man crossed back over to his small ship and closed the hatch. He'd never given anybody he had contact with in the ESA his name, but he had little doubt someone as connected and resourceful as Ersk would already have him identified.

He'd left the service just as the so-called Expansion War had been settled and the Alliance had been left without their powerful alien ally and their treachery exposed. There had been no doubt in his mind the Alliance would adopt an aggressive posture to deflect from what they'd done and that he would be sent behind the lines to gather intelligence. Being from the Asianic Union originally, he was still able to easily travel among those worlds without anyone giving him a second glance. He got out while the getting was good and was quickly approached by people who watched for Agents becoming available as independent operators, scooping him up with the promise of piles of money for very little work.

What he hadn't known was the cost would be his very soul. He had thought working for the CIS had burned away what little he'd had of a conscience. Damn had he been wrong.

Once he'd decoupled the Broadhead, and had the computer do a sweep for any bugs Ersk might have snuck on, he set an exit vector and activated one of his Bluebird systems. The person who had the paired box answered quickly.

"Any trouble, Han?"

"None. Ersk herself came to collect the units. Expect them to come online within the next few days given the speed of the trawler she was on," Han said. "How are things on Earth?"

"Marcum was nominated and quickly sworn in as we expected," his boss said. "He was up on the Nemesis for a time, and now he's called an emergency closed session for a briefing by Wolfe about some new weapon system he needs a vote on to deploy."

"Really?" Han frowned. "I hadn't heard about any new weapon system in development."

"Nor have I, and I should have been one of the first to know given my committee assignments. It may be nothing. Knowing Wolfe and Pitt it'll be some new class of supership they'll claim can win the war. With the Federation's fleet in tatters and units abandoning the line, this should all be over quickly before too much more needless killing."

"One can only hope," Han said. "I'm on my way back to Fed space. I'll let you know where I end up when I pick a place."

"No need. Just be available whenever I call."

He killed the connection on his end, checked his nav settings, and then walked off the flightdeck. He popped a few sleeping pills, something becoming necessary to shut his mind down, and lay down on the rack. Maybe he'd get lucky, and he wouldn't be needed for the remainder of the war.

"Vincent? Is that you?"

"I'm here, Admiral," Russo said, taking Kohl's outstretched hand.

The doctors had given him the reversal to counter the sedative drip and the broken and battered man was lurching back to consciousness. Vadim Kohl looked nothing like his former, commanding self. His head was shaved, and his face was gaunt and misshapen from the multiple surgeries to address the trauma he'd suffered in the escape pod. His thin, flabby arms shook and Russo—despite hating the man at the very core of his being—could only feel pity for the sad creature before him.

"I've been here the whole time, sir," Russo lied. "Making sure they took care of you."

"You are a true and faithful comrade, Captain Russo," Kohl said, his voice regaining some of the deep timbre that had made him so intimidating on the bridge of a ship.

"I am simply repaying in kind what you showed me, Admiral. You saved my life when you pulled me into that pod. Do you remember what happened?"

"Wolfe," Kohl dragged the word out over his lips, his eyes growing distant. "He beat me, Vincent. He baited me out, and then fell upon us like ravenous dogs. I really thought I could win against him. In my heart of hearts, he was the bumbling, stupid Earther who kept coming out of engagements alive through dumb luck."

"I guess none of that matters now," Russo said. "The Implacable is gone, and our forces have been absorbed into Makov's fleet. Our captains were replaced immediately, and the ships broken out of their squadrons so there's little chance we will be able to recall them."

"We have one card left to play, my friend," Kohl said. "They will try to cut us out, but they will need to give us what we want… or my secret dies with me."

"Secret, sir?" Russo asked, hoping his acting was convincing. Ersk had prepped him over the course of a week before he'd sat around the hospital for another two weeks, waiting for the doctors to clear Kohl to come out of his induced coma. Russo had been given one task: Find out where Kohl had stashed something called Abyss.

"The thing that will end this conflict," Kohl whispered. He looked like he was wearing out fast. "I've kept it hidden until it was ready for deployment. It's not perfect. Not yet. But it's enough to finish off what's left of the Fed resistance."

"What is it, sir?" Russo pressed. "Sir?"

"A weapon. Something the Darshik hadn't even been able to get working, but our people discovered the secret."

Kohl's eyes closed, and Russo leaned back in his chair, frowning. So, Abyss was another secret weapon that came from the Darshik? How the hell did Kohl keep something like that hidden? Why he kept it hidden was easy to guess. The cabal had no trust between them. Their alliance was kept in place by mutually assured destruction. If one of them tried to sell out the others, there was no way for them to avoid implicating themselves as well.

"Admiral, what kind of weapon is it? Why didn't we already use it?"

"It's…dangerous," Kohl said quietly. "It doesn't always just go after enemy ships."

"Is it…alive?"

"No, just unpredictable," Kohl said. "I will tell you more once I'm out of here. I want you to find a way to get in front of Makov or Chan. Tell them I am willing to deal, but I have some requests and need some guarantees."

"You want another ship," Russo guessed.

"That's part of it, of course," Kohl said. "Go. Do as I've asked, Captain. By the time you are able to get an audience with them, I'll have hopefully recovered enough to endure the flight to orbit so we can leave this accursed world."

Russo left the suite and stepped out into the hall, squinting in the harsh light. He looked up and saw that one of Ersk's lackeys was waiting expectantly. How the hell had he gotten himself into this mess? He was a deep cover asset with the CIS being asked by Alliance Intelligence to work with them as a double agent. It was enough to make his head spin. All he knew for certain was that he needed to find a way to get in touch with Pike again and warn the Federation the Alliance still had one more dirty trick up their sleeve.

5

"That went well."

"Don't sound too glad about it, Wolfe," Pitt said, looking at Jackson strangely at the admiral's flat tone.

"They didn't even want to debate it," Jackson said. "I helped design the damn thing, and even I'm having reservations about unleashing it. These people seemed…eager."

"They all want some payback." Pitt shrugged. "That and most of the voices that might have dug their heels in against using Aegis were on New Sierra when Kohl's bombs went off. Our Parliament is filled with the people who happened to be in space, visiting another planet, or are hasty replacements. Everyone is reeling right now, Admiral, and you've just offered drowning people a life preserver. They think you'll save them again just one last time."

Jackson snorted in disgust but said nothing. The hearing had only been with fifteen members of the legislative body, and he felt like they'd barely heard anything he said past the fact he had a secret weapon that could possibly level the playing field for them. He tried to stress there were serious ethical questions they should consider as well as warning them that Aegis was not a magic bullet that would automatically win if deployed.

One of the practical problems Jackson now faced was that, in reality, he had no idea if Aegis even worked. The system had never had all three components joined and activated at the same time. There had been endless simulations and proof of concept exercises that convinced him and Dr. Ito that they had forged a weapon of immense power, but no real world data to back that supposition up. The leaks were so bad in the Federation that they didn't dare let Aegis connect and actually try to control any of the ships for fear of losing the element of surprise.

"The ships will be ready within the next three or four days. Aegis is ready, as is the Nemesis," Jackson said. "We need real-world intel on our target before we move them out of the system. It also wouldn't hurt to get a census of how many re-supply dumps we have that are still active. The Mickey's have a standard missile loadout right now, but Shrike shortages mean that once they're gone, we likely won't get another full reload. New America and Britannia will have moved quickly to secure the stockpiles within their territories."

"Marcum—excuse me—President Marcum will be flying out to meet with leadership in both enclaves," Pitt said. "He wanted me to ask you to provide the Coyote for his trip."

"The Coyote is a 4th generation warship I'd prefer to keep on my already depleted line," Jackson said. "Why can't he take a Prowler? Or a VIP transport?"

"He likes Accari," Pitt said. "He also thinks showing up in a cruiser will send the right message."

"He's the commander in chief," Jackson said helplessly. "He can order any Fleet asset to anywhere he wants. There is the more practical concern of our lack of InfoSec. If the Alliance finds out our new president is going outside of this system, they'll try and grab him. Why not send an ambassador?"

"Not my department," Pitt said. "You think they'll make a play for Marcum if they know he's flying around out there?"

"Wouldn't you?" Jackson asked. "You have the enemy down on the mat, and the ref is counting. Grabbing their chief executive rings the bell."

"I'm not going to try and pretend I understood that reference, but I think I catch your drift." Pitt scratched his chin, looking troubled. "He's not going to stay here and hide behind Earth's defense fleet while the Federation falls apart. You know this, right?"

"I know," Jackson sighed. "He still thinks of himself as Admiral Marcum whenever it's convenient. We can't protect him out there and execute this war. You know that."

"What if we can do both?" Pitt asked.

"I'm listening."

"Since he won't agree to sending the Diplomatic Corps to handle this, let's make sure any potential leaks are turned to our advantage."

"I am not using the president of the UTF as bait," Jackson said.

"Give me a little more credit than that, Wolfe," Pitt said in a pained voice. "I haven't been behind a desk that long."

"Report!"

"The Nemesis is full mission capable and at your disposal, Admiral!" Captain Barrett said, the bridge crew standing at attention as Jackson stormed onto the bridge.

"Very good, Captain. Set course for the outer system and the Haven jump point," Jackson ordered. "Aegis, begin your deployment. I want all ships moving and transitioned out of the Solar System before the Nemesis crosses the orbit of Jupiter."

"Navigation data sent, all ships responding green, Admiral," Aegis said into the earpiece Jackson wore. "Moving the fleet once departure clearance is given."

"Don't hit anything on the way out," Jackson said, sitting in the command seat while Barrett managed his ship.

"That is highly insulting," Aegis said.

Once Jackson had planned the op out with Pitt, Marcum, Accari, and Admiral Wright, he'd returned to the Nemesis after a quick stop off in Kentucky to say goodbye to his family. The moment he'd stepped foot on the destroyer the ship was operating under strict EmSec protocols. No unauthorized or unmonitored transmissions from the ship of any kind. They made no effort to hide the ship's movement, but they were leaving silently.

"Nemesis is underway, Admiral," Barrett reported. "We'll hit the Haven jump point in one-hundred and sixty two hours. We can cut that down if needed without using warp hop."

"This will do nicely, Captain," Jackson said. The computer put the tracks up on the main display to show that the last of the Mickeys would transition out of the system a full day before they hit the jump point.

He pulled out his tile and scanned through local media that the Nemesis was still receiving as she steamed up out of Earth's orbit. As he suspected, the departure of the legendary ship was consuming all of the attention. So much so that nobody seemed to notice or care that three Super Valkyrie-class destroyers warp hopped out of detection range and a lone, Headhunter-class fast-attack cruiser was leaving orbit over Mars. As he'd hoped there were also lots of magnificent shots of his Mickey fleet breaking out of their orbit, flying in formation with incredible precision as they looped around and flew out towards the Haven jump point.

The planet Haven no longer existed. Unlike the Alliance and their antimatter bombs, the Phage had had the power to actually destroy the planet itself not just blast the inhabitants away. The spinning, misshapen hunk of nickel that remained was a macabre monument to a war that humanity shouldn’t have been able to win. Jackson still woke from nightmares of a faceless, voiceless enemy swarm coming to consume them all.

The Federation had built a memorial near what was left of the planet, trailing along in a heliocentric orbit outside of the debris field. It had been one of those decisions by a newly minted government that seemed right at the time but, as the years marched on, the reality was the memorial was an expensive, logistical nightmare that had been built at a time when everyone was emotionally compromised. Consumables and fuel had to be flown out to the damn thing at regular intervals, and the flock of visitors its designers had envisioned never materialized.

In reality, the Federation was paying for a small caretaker staff to sit on a hastily designed platform and stare at a lump of ore that used to be the pride of humanity. Hardly something most people wanted to make a pilgrimage to see. Jackson's personal opinion was that they should dismantle the stupid thing, take it away, and leave the ghosts of Haven in peace.

What the Haven System did have, however, was a myriad of jump points that led into both Federation and Alliance space. If some sharp-eyed observer watched a flotilla of four-hundred and ninety-three ships hit the Haven jump point, they might conclude the ships were certainly heading into Alliance space to punch back at the people who were responsible for the destruction of four planets.

At least that's what Jackson hoped they would think.

"It's a what?!"

"Aegis appears to be an artificial intelligence that's linked to all of the Mickey ships that escaped to Earth before our forces could get a hold of them. From what our friend told us, it's a technological equivalent to the Phage."

Councilman Makov sat heavily in his seat, considering what one of his intel analysts had just told him. Before that fateful attack that had broken the Federation apart, Admiral Kohl had executed a precision strike against a planet called Brabus. The kinetic hit had completely wiped out the fleet's training facility there along with over eighty percent of the trained Mickey crews.

The cabal had been certain the five hundred ships Wolfe had managed to build so rapidly had been taken completely out of the game. A ship is just a useless chunk of steel and plastic without a well-trained crew, after all. Now, it looked like that had all been a ruse and, the entire time, Wolfe had been playing a much more dangerous game and adapting alien tech to human weaponry.

"Leave," he said. "Tell my orderly I want to see Chan and Pak in here at once."

Once the analyst had been dismissed, Makov swore and kicked his chair across the office. That useless wretch, Russo, had yet to get the location of Abyss out of Kohl's damaged mind, and now it seemed time was not on their side. How had the Federation managed to jump so far ahead in technology? After all, the Alliance had been the one directly working with the aliens, specifically trading intel for weapons and engineering knowledge. The Feds had gone to war and got nothing but a bunch of wild planets they'd have to spend generations taming and colonizing.

"Feeling a bit peevish today, Councilman?" Jin Pak said as he breezed into the office. He arrived so quickly he must have been sitting just outside.

"You heard?"

"I was briefed, yes." Pak shrugged. "You don't actually believe what they're telling us, do you?"

"You don't?" Makov asked.

"Please," Pak scoffed. "The Federation isn't any closer to developing sentient AI systems than we are. They had a leftover Vruhan relic that they likely were adapting as some sort of battle control system, but their dim Earther blew it up while trying to defeat the Darshik. We have confirmation of that."

"So, what are these five hundred ships flying in formation we're hearing about?"

"Drone ships. Are you really so easily fooled and frightened?" Pak asked. "They lost the Cube in the previous war, but they want to try and fool us into thinking they have the means to destroy us anyway, so they rig their slapdash modular ships with a remote flight system, put the pilots on another ship, and then move them to try and scare us into capitulation."

"Look, Pak, I know you're a skilled negotiator…in the boardroom. But you're not someone who understands the intricacies of battle," Makov said. "Wolfe is a lot of things, but he's not stupid, and he doesn't bluff. He wouldn't fly five hundred ships across all of human space to try and fool us. Even if he doesn't have the AI system he claims, he has something up his sleeve."

"We shall see, but mark my words, it's all smoke and mirrors. If Wolfe had half a thousand ships with these sorts of capabilities, why hasn't he used them? The Mickey fleet was just sitting in the middle of nowhere while our forces shredded the Xinjian home defense fleet. He brought six ships with him because that's all he's got." Pak walked over and sat down, smiling.

"It's all he's got. New America and Britannia have abandoned the Federation, so 1st and 4th Fleets will be going home. Earth's forces are formidable but irrelevant. They refuse to leave the Solar System. Relax, Councilman…we've almost won."

"We've won nothing but a little bit of time," Chan said, walking into the office and glaring at his co-conspirators. "We hold orbital superiority of Xinjia, have secured the governmental complex within this city, but we are still balanced on the edge of a knife. If Alliance loyalists realize we've deposed the Council, they will come for us in force. If Joseph Marcum manages to pull his Federation back together before we secure our holdings here, they will come for us. Now is not the time for gloating. What is our status with Vadim Kohl?"

"He's recovering a lot more quickly than—"

"I don't care that the buffoon is recovering. That actually doesn't help us at this point. He has served his purpose and is now a liability. Has he given the location of Abyss to his confidante?" Chan asked.

"Not yet," Makov said. "And he probably won't. Kohl knows Abyss is his last bargaining chip if he wants to retain his position among us. He will not give it away for nothing." Chan sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.

"What does he want?"

"The same thing every shortsighted career military officer wants; rank and prestige," Makov said. "He wants to be made a commodore and another fleet of ships."

"The Alliance fleet doesn't use that rank," Chan said in exasperation. "And more ships? For what? What?! So he can crash them all against Wolfe's forces again?! He's lost a starfighter carrier, two battleships, one battlecruiser, and I lost count of how many smaller classes went down in his boondoggles. We're going to go down that road with this man again? Tell me, Makov, how the fuck did we get saddled with this imbecile to begin with?"

"I'm a politician, Chan, and I've never served in military oversight. I had no idea Kohl was a complete fraud. He was recommended to me by Alliance Fleet Command as the man who had the best chance of countering Wolfe should the Federation attack us." Makov's face turned red. "I won't sit here and listen to you—"

"Gentlemen! Please," Pak said quietly but forcefully, "this accomplishes nothing. We were all sold a bill of goods about Vadim Kohl that turned out to not be true. What's done is done. Give him what he wants, secure Abyss, and let's move on, yes?"

"We can just transfer his original ships back to him," Chan said to Makov.

"I'll draft the order to promote him to commodore," Makov said. "The Council will rubber stamp it for us."

"See? Now, we're back on task," Pak said. "Now, for the fun part. My contacts within New America have alerted me to the fact the Federation has requested a face-to-face with their leadership to avoid secession. They've already dispatched their envoy from Earth."

"And?" Chan asked, annoyed at the industrialists’ games.

"President Marcum is rumored to be going himself to the meeting. He doesn't want to risk sending an ambassador. Thinks it sends the wrong message," Pak said.

"The intel is solid?" Chan asked.

"As can reasonably be assumed," Pak said. "This isn't through any of your vaunted intelligence services, admittedly. This is coming from paid informants I've maintained throughout the Federation mostly to keep a leg up on my competition. Almost anything that flies in space will leave a logistics footprint if you know how to look."

"I don't suppose you happen to have the location for the meeting?" Makov asked.

"As it turns out, I do," Pak said.

6

"I just talked to Accari, sir. They're on schedule."

"Have a seat, Captain," Jackson gestured towards the empty chair at the table. "I trust it won't offend your sensibilities to break bread with this filthy heathen of a Marine?"

"I suppose I can suffer through it, sir." Barrett smiled. "How are things, Barton?"

"Very good, sir, thank you," Master Sergeant Willard "Willy" Barton said, shaking Barrett's proffered hand. "Good to be back aboard the Nemesis."

They were dining in the private Captain's Mess, a rarely used room on the ship. Jackson had taken it over as both a dining area and meeting room for his inner circle. Barton, newly promoted to master sergeant, was still attached to Jackson as his personal security advisor. The admiral and Marine NCO had been together since Jackson had pulled Barton's beleaguered detachment off a planet under siege by the Darshik and, over the years, had formed a solid friendship able to exist despite the fact one was enlisted, and the other was a flag officer.

Barton asked for no special favors, and his behavior when they were in front of the crew never gave the hint of anything less than total professionalism. Thanks to that, Jackson was able to relax and confide in Barton, building a trust he'd not enjoyed since serving with Daya Singh.

"I spoke with Captain Risher earlier," Jackson said as he began to load his plate up from the family style spread the galley had provided. "The Broadsword and her taskforce will be in position well ahead of everyone else. This is an insane gamble, but I think we're due for some good luck."

"Did the fleet make the course change okay?" Barrett asked.

"Aegis said they're all on track and reporting normally," Jackson said. "We'll skirt near the DeLonges System and continue on to Odessa."

"Strange that New America moved their capital there," Barrett said. "The planet more aligns with the Warsaw Alliance worlds politically than with the rest of New America."

"Odessa is a military stronghold for 4th Fleet," Jackson said. "Everyone is rushing to fortify despite the fact the attack on the Federation was done through subterfuge not raw strength."

The planet Odessa, deep within the New America enclave, had no connection to the city in Texas that shared its namesake. The planet had actually been colonized by a group from Ukraine, the organizer of the colony fleet having hailed from the seaport city there also sharing that name. While the planet likely would have naturally aligned with the Warsaw Alliance during the Second Restructuring in the year 2317, New America had made them a better offer.

It still bemused Jackson that Earth had become a world without borders and muted, blended ethnicities in their isolation while the different enclaves had artificially maintained their former ethno-political borders during the centuries of colonizing space.

"Will 4th Fleet interfere?" Barrett asked.

"It depends on who is left in command," Jackson said. "If it's Admiral Milton, they'll stand fast and form a blockade until they're sure what's going on. If Admiral Ross ended up in overall command, there's no way to predict. They may attack us, they may just run. He's a bit…erratic."

"I just want to know what sort of dynamic we'll be facing when we get there," Barrett said. "If we have to fight the Alliance forces and fend off 4th Fleet because they've already made a deal with them, it could get real messy, real fast."

"I don't think it will be an issue," Jackson assured him. "But know that once this starts, it's going to kick off a chain of events that will be unstoppable. Everyone will see what Aegis is capable of, and they will either grovel at the Fed's feet, or they'll come at us with everything they have. It's going to terrify them like nothing has since the Phage arrived." Barton shuddered.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, and that scares me a little bit," he said.

"Parliament has authorized full deployment?" Barrett asked. He knew the large strokes of what Aegis was, but Jackson could tell he was still skeptical, simply viewing it as five hundred drone ships with a nifty voice activated remote.

"They begged for it," Jackson said. "The hearing went the exact opposite of how I thought it would. I got more pushback from Marcum and Pitt than I did from the legislature."

They ate in silence for a few more moments before an alert chimed on Jackson's comlink. He looked down and saw it was from Pike over their private Bluebird channel. It was flagged as normal priority so he canceled the alert and kept eating. The Agent was probably just salty Jackson had snuck out of the Solar System without saying goodbye.

"They've agreed to your terms, Admiral, or should I say, Commodore?" Russo said, forcing a smile on his face as Kohl was lowered into a wheelchair.

"Of course, they have," Kohl said. He looked and sounded stronger now. The weeks of recovery had strengthened his body but had also erased what little introspection and humility he'd displayed when he was at his weakest. Russo could see the mask of arrogance and entitlement settled back into place. The sneering, dismissive man in front of him was the Kohl he'd known all this time. He wasn't happy to have him back.

This version of Kohl had been responsible for more human deaths than the Phage, Darshik, and all human wars combined. He was a plague upon their species. If Russo leapt across the space separating them and killed the man with his bare hands, he felt like he would be able to welcome his own death with a clean conscience.

"Our fleet has been re-established with the addition of seven new ships," Russo said. "Your new flagship is the Koshmar. She's an older hull but completely refitted."

"I know this ship," Kohl said. "I did not know she was still in service. The last of the old dreadnaughts, I believe."

"The refit took over four years, sir," Russo said. "Everything was replaced from the powerplant, engines, avionics…all of it."

The old 8th Fleet dreadnaughts were built over a century ago when the Warsaw Alliance's ship design philosophy was "as long as it's bigger than anything in 4th Fleet." And big she was. The Koshmar was massive but not very strong or even well-built. Unlike other ships of that era, she wasn't a monolith of heavy steel. She was built in sections joined together, each of those joints causing problems with flexing and cracking. The ships were so unreliable and, frankly, dangerous that all but two were scrapped. The remaining two were kept for when it was time to fly to Haven and impress the other enclaves. Beyond that, they had sat in dock for decades at a time.

"An imminently suitable ship," Kohl said approvingly. Russo frowned. The Koshmar was a flying deathtrap and had no doubt been given to them as an insult by Makov, but Kohl seemed to seriously think he was being rewarded.

"Yes," he said slowly. "I will begin assembling my command crew at once, assuming I'm to be serving as your flagship captain again, sir."

"I can't think of anyone I would rather have serving under me, Captain Russo," Kohl said, puffing his chest out. "Make sure Makov and Chan don't try to sneak their people aboard any of my ships."

"I'll make sure the original command crews are put back in place," Russo promised. "The Koshmar is on her way now and should be making orbit within the next five days. The rest of our fleet is already in a holding formation over the fifth planet."

"Excellent," Kohl said, his eyes shining and his speech slurring a bit. Russo took a closer look at him, realizing the auto-release narcotic drip the med techs had installed on his chair must have dosed him. That could be somewhat problematic having a drugged-up flag officer in charge of a taskforce. It would be something he'd have to watch going forward. From his conversations with Makov and Chan, it was clear they had little interest in what Kohl did just as long as they got what they were promised. It would be completely up to Russo to make sure the lunatic didn't kill any more innocent people than he already had.

"There is the issue of what you promised to Makov and Chan," Russo reminded him. "They're putting the pieces into place, but we won't be allowed to step foot on one of the ships until they have Abyss firmly in hand."

"They'll get what they want," Kohl promised. "It won't be what they think it is, but they can have it all the same."

"Can you explain to me what Abyss is, sir?"

"I will. In a more secure location and when my head isn't swimming from all the painkillers they're pumping into me," Kohl said. "I can barely form a coherent thought right now. Just get me to a more secure location and out of this hospital. I assume you've established a base of operations within the city?"

"Yes, sir. A company of our Marines are garrisoned in a police headquarters building we commandeered," Russo said. "It's just outside the compound and was the most secure location I could find. It has a shuttle landing pad on the premises, which is rare in this city."

"Sounds perfect," Kohl said. "Take me there."

"I'll meet you there, sir," Russo said. "Your Marine escort is just outside, and I think it's safer if we don't travel together."

"Sound thinking, Captain," Kohl nodded, his eyes now drooping.

Russo slipped away as the six Marines he'd handpicked from Kohl's detachment moved in to take the commodore to their new planetside base. He moved quickly down a side corridor, walking into a lavatory to change his clothes. He put his uniform into a pack and slid on nondescript civilian clothing.

The last thing he put on was a face scarf popular on Xinjia around this time of year due to allergens as well as a wide-brimmed hat. The scarf he wore over his lower face had a pattern that, while not very stylish, was specifically designed to confuse facial recognition software.

Once he was satisfied he wouldn't be recognized as Vincent Russo, he slipped back out and left the hospital through the loading area walking past the laborers unloading the boxy transports. Nobody gave him a second glance despite the fact he wasn't wearing a badge. A little trick to going places you weren't supposed to be was to just walk confidently and unconcerned. Most people were too oblivious or hesitant to bother someone if they looked like they belonged there.

He left the hospital grounds without anybody asking him who he was or why he was there, going directly to a green car with darkened windows. Once he was in, he pulled off his hat and scarf, breathing a sigh of relief.

"That was quick," said the other person already in the vehicle.

"He's not difficult to manipulate right now," Russo said. "He's drugged up, and I suspect suffering from the lingering effects of his severe concussion. How did you know who I am?"

"Pike," the person grunted. "Gave me a heads up that you might be on Xinjia and to try and make contact."

"You can get a message to the Federation?" Russo asked.

"Of course."

"Tell them there's a new factor in play. Something called Abyss. It's a weapon. Something Kohl had control of and hid from his cabal co-conspirators as leverage. They want it, he's trading for his position and standing back in exchange." Russo stopped and leaned back. "I don't know what it is or what it does, but Kohl seems hesitant to use it. That alone should be enough to worry everyone back home."

"You want to come in?" the man asked. "Pike sent me your file. You've been under for a long time, man. Nobody would think twice about you asking for an extraction and, honestly, I'm not sure it makes a lot of difference at this point anyway. A full debrief of your time with Kohl could be useful, however."

"Damnit, just…don't," Russo said. "That's too tempting, and I still have a job to do. Until I know what Abyss is, and if there's a way to counter it, I need to stay on."

"Admirable," the man said, looking out over the people walking past them. "Stupid, but admirable. Reach behind you. There's some gear that should help you out. I’m giving you a way to stay in contact with me while you're here on Xinjia. I have a Bluebird link back home and can pass information back and forth for you. Agent Pike is your new handler, and he's reporting directly to the director. Before you leave this planet, I can give you a Bluebird unit of your own that's tied to Pike directly if you want. If not, you'll be isolated."

"I'll let you know," Russo said, grabbing the bag and stuffing it into his own pack. "It would be a huge risk taking that aboard the Koshmar, but if I can't pass on intel, then I'm as useless as before. I'll contact you in two days to figure it out. How are you getting people and material on and off the planet?"

"The usual tricks. CIS has been operating its own smuggling ring since the Alliance broke off. We're actually pretty efficient at it. This government is a lot more open to bribes than the old regional enclave governments were."

"I gotta go. Kohl's loopy, but he's still paranoid as all hell. I'll be in touch."

"You already said that," the man said. "Good luck, Agent."

"You, too."

Russo walked back into the hospital the way he'd come, backtracking his steps until he was able to change back into his uniform in the same bathroom, ditch his disguise down the recycler chute, and leave the hospital through the main entrance where the computer would scan his face and register that he was leaving.

When he'd first come to Xinjia to begin his own recovery from the ordeal aboard the Implacable, an orderly in the hospital had approached him and began a series of peculiar conversations. If someone overheard, they might not think much of it, but Russo recognized it as the sign-countersign signals of an Agent trying to make contact with another Agent. The time in recovery went quickly as the two verbally sparred with one another until they were both certain it was safe to break cover.

When Russo learned there was a strong CIS presence on Xinjia, he'd been overcome with emotion. It's not that he wasn't still in mortal danger. Hell, he'd become numb to that over the years. It was more that there was someone from home that he could reach out to and verify that he wasn't crazy, and he really was still a CIS Agent on a mission.

Pike was a legendary figure within the service, so having him as a handler now was certainly an ego boost. Now that he was back in the fold, he needed to carefully determine how best to be of service. Part of him almost hoped Pike would just tell him to kill Kohl and get the hell out, but the director would likely have other plans. Until they knew what Abyss was and what threat it posed, there was little he could do but sit, wait, and keep pretending he was a starship captain.

He nodded to the Marine waiting by his own vehicle and slipped in. The drive back to the police station he'd taken over was long and quiet as the driver worked her way through the dense midday traffic. There was now so much to do, and he had very little time in which to do it. Once the Koshmar arrived, everything would slam into motion at once, and he'd be right back in the belly of the beast. At least now he knew he wasn't just forgotten. He hadn't realized how much that meant until it was given back to him.

7

"Everything is still quiet, Admiral. CIC reports the Coyote arrived with two Black Fleet frigates six hours ago and is moving down towards Odessa."

"Thank you, Commander," Jackson said to Commander Hori. She was the Nemesis's executive officer but was still taking watch shifts at OPS to fill in the roster gaps they had. It was an unfortunate truth for ship commanders these days that when they got their crews trained up and experienced, CENTCOM would swoop in and steal their experienced spacers away to distribute among the rest of the fleet.

Jackson sat in the command chair and looked over the main display, taking in both the ship's status as well as the positioning of ships within the system. The Nemesis sat well out in the outer boundary of the Odessa System, watching with her passive gravimetric detection grid and avoiding being spotted by the planet's defensive grid. There were twenty-six 4th Fleet ships down in the inner system, defectors that had come home when New America announced their intent to secede.

He didn't blame the 4th Fleet commanders for answering the call. Their loyalty had always been to New America. It was the way the numbered fleets had been structured during the old Confederacy days in order to spread the burden and cost of operating a fleet so massive among all the member worlds. Back when Haven had been the capital world, the numbered fleets remained within their enclave space most of the time with the exception of 7th Fleet, or Black Fleet as it was more commonly known. The 7th had reported directly to Haven and had been at the disposal of the president, though they had been little more than glorified couriers for much of their existence. At least until the Phage arrived.

Some of the remaining CENTCOM leadership, angered at the defections, wanted to take a more aggressive posture towards the ships and crews that had abandoned the Federation. Jackson had argued for a more tempered approach. Lashing out at people who were terrified and making decisions to protect their homes would only deepen the divide.

"Is Commander Hawkins on duty?" Jackson asked.

"Yes, Admiral," Hori answered. "He came on watch three hours ago."

"Tell him I'm on the way down to talk to him," Jackson said.

He was out of his seat and moving to the hatchway before Hori could answer. Barton fell in behind him without a word as he marched to the lifts. Commander Jake Hawkins was something of a mystery to Jackson. The man should have been commanding his own starship by now, but he was still serving in the trenches as the Nemesis's CIC OIC. It wasn't that he was lazy or not proficient at his job. In fact, he was one of the best CIC officers Jackson had ever served with.

He had a few blemishes on his record that stemmed from what could be considered a lack of impulse control. Fleet tended to frown upon lieutenants punching out their supervisors over a workplace dispute. Still, Hawkins had actively dug his heels in every time Jackson or Barrett had tried to promote him out of CIC.

Jackson moved quickly through the ship, returning salutes and greetings mechanically, barely noticing as he made his way to the heart of the destroyer's combat operations. CIC was a secure island sitting close to the exact center of the ship. It was a nerve center that soaked up all information from the battlespace, processed it, filtered it, and sent a concise stream of pertinent data to the bridge for the command crew. It was the reason why the job Hawkins refused to leave was so crucial. A bad CIC officer could mean overlooked details or wrong information being highlighted leaving the captain blind to the most pressing threats.

"Admiral Wolfe, welcome, sir," Hawkins said as Jackson walked in. Barton came in and did a cursory sweep before walking back out and posting up outside the hatchway.

"Impressive," Jackson said, looking around.

"We're bringing in feeds from the three Super Valkyries in real-time so we can monitor their respective missions," Hawkins said, gesturing to the row of monitors and terminals on the portside of the space. "I've moved around our staffing to ensure complete coverage whenever the ships aren't in warp. The darkened monitors on the starboard side are ready for the data feed from Aegis when you're ready. From what you've told me, I won't be required to have those actively monitored?"

"There won't be a lot to do, no," Jackson said. "Aegis will handle all sensor data processing, but you'll have access to the fleet's raw data feed if you want it."

"Full-bandwidth sensor feed from four-hundred and ninety-two ships would be a strain on our system, sir," Hawkins said.

"I'll let you talk to Aegis and work something out," Jackson said. "We might have a little time here to run a few sims, but it looks like you've set yourself up exactly like I asked. You'll have analysts working on the incoming data from the Wolfpack ships?"

"Yes, sir. Full coverage."

"Excellent," Jackson said. "And what progress on detecting their stealth ships when the shrouds are deployed?"

"Ah," Hawkins smiled, "the real reason you're here. Unfortunately, I don't have anything helpful to report. While the system they use to hide from our radar has its limitations, it is effective. When they're sitting still with the radar absorbent shrouds deployed, there's just not a lot we can do to detect them. The stealth isn't perfect, but the returns are so minimal they fall well below the detection threshold. If we lower that, we'll be chasing tens of thousands of false-positives…maybe more."

"Load all your data onto a tile and come with me," Jackson said. "Let's try to maximize our resources."

Hawkins turned and grabbed one of the ubiquitous devices off his seat and held it up.

"Already have it, sir," he said. "This is the raw data from all the engagements where we faced the different classes of stealth ships including Odmena. It's all correlated by the ship it came from and a timestamp."

"Let's go," Jackson said.

The pair—a trio after Barton joined them—went down two decks into a secure area of the ship constantly guarded by armed Marines. The series of vaults behind the armored hatchway were meant to keep sensitive material secure as well as enclosed into sealed, hardened pods that could be recovered later if the ship happened to be destroyed. One of the larger vaults at the end of the corridor had been modified so larger power and data cables could be run for its only occupant.

"Activate interface, command code Wolfe Alpha Alpha," Jackson said. "Audio and video, maintain network isolation."

"Admiral," Aegis greeted him as the interface came up. "And Commander Jacob Hawkins. Interesting."

"Aegis," Jackson said. "We're going to pipe in a data set, and I need you to analyze it for pattern recognition. Anything that might help us see these stealth ships before they get close enough to strike."

"This should eliminate the boredom, at least," Aegis said as Jackson nodded for Hawkins to connect the tile to the terminal sitting on a cart. "How soon would you like it?"

"As soon as you have it, obviously," Jackson said.

"Is there an eminent threat?"

"We are at war… so yeah," Jackson said. "How is everything else going?"

"The fleet is sitting idle. All ships running nominally. You are gambling much in hoping the Alliance will attack—"

"System mute," Jackson said, turning to Hawkins. "I suppose I don't need to tell you to keep this all to yourself?"

"So this is Aegis?" Hawkins asked, looking over the onyx block. "I thought the name was just a code word for some new CIS thing."

"I'll bring you in on the complete specs of this system soon," Jackson promised. "We're not widely advertising what this is, but you'll need to know more to do your job. Short version is that it's tied to the—"

"Admiral Wolfe to the bridge! Admiral Wolfe to the bridge!" Hori's voice came over the shipwide.

"To be continued," Jackson said. "System active, Wolfe Alpha Alpha."

"I'll be in CIC," Hawkins said, running out the hatchway.

"Do I have command authorization from the president?" Aegis asked.

"Not even close," Jackson said. "Monitor and advise only. Command authorization can only come from the CIC directly, I can't tell you yes or no either way. If we deploy, I'll make sure you talk to Marcum and get your authorization."

He locked the vault back up and backtracked out of the secure area, heading forward to the lifts that would take him up to the command deck. One of the controls the parliament committee had imposed on Aegis before approving its activation was that the commander in chief would have to personally approve any ship deployment over twenty-five hulls where release of weapons was imminent. It was clunky, but it satisfied the politicians that the full power of Aegis couldn't be brought to bear without President Marcum approving of the operation in real-time. To that end, he had an aide carrying a briefcase with a built-in Bluebird transceiver paired to the system allowing him to authorize its use no matter where he was in the universe.

The switch is mostly symbolic, but it still gave the politicians a level of comfort. What was buried in the technical details of the order was that Aegis wasn't actually constrained by the Bluebird Go/No-Go signal from the president's briefcase. If someone were to go into the vault and simply disconnect the transceiver from the interface, Aegis would revert back to its original permission tree.

"Report!" he yelled before he'd even cleared the bridge hatchway.

"Alliance transponders just detected in the system," Barrett said. "Two ships, one a consulate the other a cruiser. They transitioned in seven hours prior but didn't light their beacons until they were well into the outer system."

"Interesting," Jackson grunted, putting in his earpiece. "Aegis, you have me?"

"I hear you, Admiral."

"Take the data that was uploaded and try to find sensor patterns that would help us detect any Alliance stealth ships in the vicinity. I'm turning on the ship's sensor feed from CIC so you can also monitor what's happening in this system. We've had some unexpected visitors."

"I am ready."

"You sure you don't want to just give him access to the bridge PA, sir?" Barrett asked. "It would make things easier on you."

"I'll stick to this for the time being, Captain," Jackson said. "The more contained we keep knowledge of just what we have on this ship the better off we'll be."

"Understood, sir."

"What are our new friends doing, OPS?"

"Flying a normal grav-assist approach to Odessa, Admiral," Commander Hori said. "They're not trying to hide. 4th Fleet ships are moving to intercept, but they're not in a real hurry."

"Are they broadcasting?" Barrett asked.

"Nothing but their ident beacon."

"I don't like this, sir," Barrett said quietly, leaning in. "What are they up to?"

"This definitely isn't a coincidence," Jackson agreed. "Let's see how this plays out, but send a message to the Coyote and tell Accari I want him updating his exit vectors constantly and to assume all Fed space jump points have someone camped by them."

"I'll send that back-channel, sir." Barrett walked to the back of the bridge to access one of the Bluebird terminals.

"The odds are overwhelming that this envoy is a diversion," Aegis said. "Most likely to draw attention away from the outer system. The Alliance is fond of staging their forces outside the heliopause so it's a short warp flight into the system. This was likely a strategic answer to your warp-hop capability."

"Less commentary," Jackson said. "Just give me what I need to know for the current situation or anything I've specifically asked for."

"Updating preferences."

Jackson resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Aegis was considered a semi-sentient, autonomous AI system, but it argued that it was fully sentient with controls imposed on it to eliminate complete free will. The designers on the project had insisted it was mistaken, but the machine was adamant it was fully self-aware, and that bothered Jackson enough to keep him awake at night.

Through the Cube, they'd cracked the secret of building an artificial intelligence in the truest sense of the term, not just clever software that gave the illusion of AI. There had originally been three systems that had come from Project Prometheus. The first had shown irreparable instabilities that would only allow it to operate for a short time before it needed to be completely shut down and have its memory wiped. It would come back up without issue but have to relearn everything. The second was Aegis, a machine that showed the Cube's ability to learn and adapt but was willing to take direction and be controlled. The third had been the most advanced…and the most dangerous.

Codenamed Metis, the system had displayed wild swings of emotion, a dismissive, arrogant attitude towards its creators and operators, and a disturbing eagerness to learn about war. They'd tried to harness Metis as its intelligence was the most potent of the trio but, in every simulation they ran, it would just as soon turn on its own side as fight the enemy. All it wanted to do was kill humans. In the end, Jackson had no choice but to order the machine destroyed and the core programming purged from the research servers.

Now that he had Aegis sitting in the hold of his ship, tied into almost five-hundred fully armed warships, he found himself thinking about Metis a lot. There was so much they didn't know, and now he was going to take that system into battle without those questions being answered. What if Aegis was just better at hiding its psychotic tendencies than Metis had been and was just waiting for Jackson to turn over control of a war fleet to it?

"I was able to talk to Accari directly, sir." Barrett's voice shook Jackson out of his reverie. "The Coyote is at general quarters, and he's ready to get the president to safety at the first sign something doesn't look right. He has updating course plots to three CIS jump points that don't show up on even the military navigation charts."

"Good, good," Jackson said, still feeling uneasy. "I suppose it would be too much to hope that Marcum would see this as a high-risk situation and depart immediately."

"Not his style, Admiral."

"No, unfortunately, it's not."

8

"Have these assholes sent any sort of message yet?"

"No, Mr. President," Captain Idris Accari answered for the sixth time that day.

"What about Odessa?"

"We've received word that the consulate party from New America is aboard their ship and will break orbit within the next twelve hours, sir." Accari leaned back and rubbed his eyes. "We'll be given rendezvous instructions at that time. It appears they're not going to allow us to make orbit and put you on the planet, Mr. President."

"Obnoxious, self-important assholes," Marcum grunted. "Could you please have your com shop send a message to whoever is in charge of 4th Fleet here and ask what they intend to do about the Alliance ships just sitting in their system? I'd like to know if they were invited or not. Go backchannel if you have to."

"At once, sir." Accari stood up and walked to the back of the bridge to speak with his com officer. After a moment, he slipped on his own headset to listen in.

Captain Accari was in a no-win situation. It had been bad enough when PM Marcum had been hitching a ride on the Coyote. But President Marcum had become a whole different type of pain in the ass for him and his crew. The Headhunter-class ship was small, speedy, dangerous…but not very big and certainly not very luxurious. Accari had offered the president his quarters, but Marcum insisted he was a salty old warhorse who would be more than comfortable in the ship's cramped guest quarters.

And he had been…

For the first two days of a fourteen day flight to the Odessa System.

Now, President Marcum spent most of his time on the bridge, which meant Accari also needed to spend most of the time on the bridge to make sure there was a buffer between the most powerful man in the Federation and the crew trying to run the ship. At least Marcum had been an admiral before becoming a politician and his manners and sense of propriety were impeccable. He never stepped over the line, and he always deferred to Accari as the master of the ship, something the young captain genuinely appreciated. Still, Joseph Marcum cast a long shadow, and having him stalk the corridors was a huge distraction.

"Mr. President, Admiral Ross of 4th Fleet has informed me they have told the Alliance delegation they are to halt their progress into the system," Accari said. "We're establishing an open channel with their flagship so we're kept in the loop. Ross wanted me to assure you the ESA ships were not invited here, and he finds the timing of their appearance highly suspicious."

"No kidding," Marcum scoffed.

Accari kept his headset halfway on so he could listen to the back and forth between the 4th Fleet flagship, the Olympia, and the Alliance ships. Most of it was standard chatter you'd expect, mostly Admiral Ross's people telling the interlopers where they were and weren't allowed to fly. It wasn't until nearly two hours later when it got interesting.

"Coms, put the broadcast coming from the lead Alliance ship on the overhead, if you please."

"Aye, sir."

"—waited as long as we are willing. We have come here in good faith, wishing to offer New America a path to peace, only to be insulted and kept waiting. To the citizens of this great enclave…the United Terran Federation is no more. You cannot stand on your own. The only sensible action is to urge your leaders to join with the Eastern Star Alliance. At least allow us the chance to present our case to you directly, and then decide what is best for your people. Do not allow long-dead loyalties blind you to the new reality of our day."

"Broadcast stopped, Captain," the coms officer said.

"I'll be goddamned." Marcum paced the deck behind the command chair. "That was Chan! I recognize that bastards voice. I wonder if he's actually on that ship."

"Could have been pre-recorded, sir," Accari asked carefully. "Perhaps they have a whole set of responses recorded that the ESA commander could use to fit the situation."

"Plausible," Marcum conceded. "Likely, even. Chan is not a coward, but nor is he reckless. He wouldn't risk coming this far away from his powerbase where Wolfe might get a hold of him at the same time as leaving Makov in charge back home. There are still three Super Valkyries that could appear right beside them, so it's doubtful he'd risk the trip."

"Maybe try and call him out, sir," Accari said. "They know you're here on this ship. Broadcast full-vid demanding to speak to Chan."

"How quickly can you set that up?"

"You can use my office, Mr. President. I keep the UTF flag as a backdrop for vid-links and the terminal is already set to go."

"Just let me change, and we'll get at it." Marcum was already off the bridge by the time Accari turned to answer.

"Go with him," he said to his XO. "I can't leave the bridge while all this is about to go down."

"Yes, sir."

"This is President Joseph Marcum…president of what's left of the United Terran Federation.

"I am transmitting on all frequencies to demand that ESA Councilman Chan, whose voice I heard on the Alliance broadcast, surrender himself to answer for war crimes of such magnitude we have no legal terms for them. The death of billions, loss of four planets, and the destruction of the New Sierra Platform…all of this needs to be answered for. Do not forget, people of Odessa, that two of those lost planets were yours. Will you let the Alliance destroy Columbiana and New Sierra, and then come here speaking of peace?

"I have come personally to Odessa to ask you not throw away your allegiance to the ideals of the UTF. The Alliance does not want peace. They want your subjugation, and they will not stop until they break you. The choice is yours."

"Well…that was interesting," Barrett said as the video winked out.

"He knows this stalemate is likely a stalling tactic by the Alliance, so he's calling them out," Jackson said. "We're already in place, they must not be. Reminding Odessa of their two lost worlds was a gamble. 4th Fleet may decide to kick everyone out of their space and close the borders."

"You're certain they're going to attack?" Barrett asked.

"Aegis?" Jackson pointed to his earpiece to let Barrett know he wasn't talking to him.

"The Alliance will attack. Soon. Expect them to stall a while longer while they move their forces into place, likely on a master timer since they have no superluminal com capability that we know of," Aegis said. "They will come into the system from the three major jump point. Their goal at first was likely to subdue Odessa, but now they will try to box in Captain Accari and capture President Marcum."

"You're not even giving a probability on that?" Jackson asked.

"No need, Admiral. I am certain."

"Suggestions?"

"Deploy the fleet to optimize our response. We can minimize the threat to the planet while at the same time keeping a lane of escape open for the Coyote. When they make their move, we will be ready to counter almost immediately. Given the size of the 4th Fleet contingent they planned for you are likely looking at forty-eight inbound mainline warships and just as many support ships. It would be the only way they can defeat Admiral Ross as well as prevent anyone from escaping."

"Deploy the fleet as you need to," Jackson said after a moment. "Have them ready to fight, and I'll make sure Marcum has his finger on the button to authorize your tactical systems."

"Bad news?" Barrett asked.

"That depends on how well Aegis performs in a real-world test," Jackson said quietly. It's convinced they're coming. We're redeploying the Mickeys to minimize our reaction time. They'll come in and try to grab the Coyote, we'll come in behind them and, if all goes well, take away a big chunk of the Alliance's warfighting capability."

"This feels strange…just sitting out here while ships with no crews get ready to fight."

"You're not the only one," Jackson said, a sudden tension gripping his chest.

A thousand what if scenarios ran through his mind. What if Aegis just didn't live up to the hype, and they sent all those ships in to be destroyed? What if it worked, but no better than any crewed fleet would have? What if it suffered from some hidden instability, and it killed everyone in that system? Part of him wanted to call it off and simply use the Nemesis to make sure Marcum escaped the Alliance's coming ambush.

With effort, he tried to push the doubts from his mind. The time to worry about such things was before the first Mickey hull section was laid at Eternis Pax. The die had been cast, and this would be where he found out if his gamble with Aegis had paid off. Try as he might, the doubts remained.

"Aegis—"

"Do not fear, Admiral," Aegis said. "They will be unprepared for what I bring to bear. This will be over quickly, and then the Alliance will be left with a simple choice: surrender, or face us again and risk total annihilation."

Jackson frowned. The machine's sense of self and ego were unexpected as was its apparent ability to anticipate his thoughts. Now that it was out of the hole they'd buried it in at Exeter Base and interacting with humans again, its emotional range and complexity seemed to be growing at an exponential rate. Before it had seemed little more than a voice-activated user interface with no hint of the raw power it was capable of.

"Admiral, the president would like a word with you, sir," Commander Hori said. "He's on a high-res Bluebird channel."

"Can you pipe it into the bridge briefing room?" Jackson asked.

"Yes, sir. Transferring now."

Jackson straightened his uniform coat before walking to small briefing room directly off the bridge and sliding the hatch closed. When he walked in, he saw the light piping around the large wall display flashed green, indicating there was a pending channel request. He reached over and accepted the request and stood back as the image of his commander in chief resolved.

"What'd you think, Wolfe? Too much?" Typical Marcum. No preamble, right to the guts of it.

"No, sir," Jackson said. "Barrett and I both agreed taking the initiative and forcing the Alliance to swing off their back foot was a sound opening move. It's pushed them into action before they were ready. Aegis is certain they have staged a multi-pronged assault force around the system and will deploy it soon. We're moving the Mickey fleet now to counter."

"Excellent. That saves me the trouble of telling you to get them moving. I agree with your machine. They'll be coming, and they'll do it before Accari has a chance to get us out of here."

"Agreed, sir. We'll be ready."

"I know you will." Marcum reached off camera and pulled something towards him. It was the activation control for Aegis. "I'm turning the key now. Is there any reason I shouldn't? Think long and hard about this, Wolfe. If we're wrong about this, we'll go down in history as no better than that psychopath Kohl."

"I have no doubt, sir," Jackson said, feeling queasy. "It's time."

Marcum stared at him for a moment through the Bluebird link before reaching down and pushing the final arming control.

"So be it. The system is now armed and active."

9

"The small cruiser is not making any move to break formation, sir."

"Arrogant Feds. This Accari is a child. He thinks the speed of his newer ship will be enough to save him."

The taskforce commander, Admiral Epps, had been handpicked by Councilman Chan to run the Odessa operation. What he didn't realize was that he hadn't been picked because of his outstanding qualifications or past record of running successful asymmetrical warfare combat ops. He was simply the only flag officer Makov and Chan could agree upon.

He didn't have the reputation of being a bad officer, just not one of particular note. The flagship commander, Captain Alcon, had been taken into confidence by Makov's right-hand, Ella Ersk. She'd told him that, should Epps show he was of questionable loyalty, he was to eliminate him and take command. Everything hinged on them being able to capture President Marcum alive. Barring that, he was to make sure the TFS Coyote didn't leave the system.

Their intel sources within what was left of the Federation had come through with solid information regarding Marcum's travel arrangements. The fact he was on a ship like the Coyote and not one of the Fed's vaunted and feared destroyers spoke volumes about how thin their fleet was stretched. The Super Valkyries that remained after their ill-advised attempt of defending the Xinjia System had departed to secure crucial infrastructure and, even the Nemesis herself, presumably with Wolfe aboard, had left with the Federation's enormous fleet of toy ships that didn't even have any crews. Nobody was sure where they were heading, but Alliance Intelligence had a team of analysts who all agreed it was likely a bluff meant to make them think the Mickeys were operational.

Alcon looked up at the master mission clock and saw they had less than two hours before their fleet would arrive. Since the Feds had killed their access to Bluebird, the Alliance commanders were back to planning missions to a clock to coordinate something like this. If he launched com drones out to where their forces were staged it would give the game away.

"The intel we have on the Headhunter-class ship indicates it doesn't have the warp hop capability Wolfe's ships have demonstrated," he said, trying to get Admiral Epps's head back onto the technical aspects of what they were doing and curb his tendency to editorialize. Over the last month, Alcon had been subjected to hours and hours of running commentary by a man who fancied himself a keen observer of politics. Epps was, however, a highly competent officer, and while he wasn't as flashy as Admiral Kohl or have high-profile battles under his belt, he ran a tight operation. Captain Alcon felt at ease with the admiral in command of the taskforce, something he couldn't say about many of the Alliance flag officers.

"Let's hope Marcum lives up to his reputation and tries to override the young captain, staying in place too long to escape," Epps said.

"Wasn't Accari one of Wolfe's officers?" Alcon asked.

"He actually started as an enlisted spacer," Epps said. "He was the nav specialist on the Ares during the Phage War. Wolfe pushed to get him into Officer Training School and then greased the rails for the kid ever since. He's had nothing but choice assignments and early promotions thanks to his proximity to the admiral. Nothing our intel service gave us on him indicates he's all that brilliant or will be much of a threat."

"We will know soon enough, sir," Alcon pointed to the clock. "Shall we prep the last transmission package?"

"Proceed," Epps said. "Package…seven-echo, no modification. Begin transmission at delta minus fifteen."

"Aye-aye, sir. Coms!"

"Prepping package seven-echo, aye," the com officer said. "Delta minus fifteen…confirmed."

Delta was one of the timer markers in the mission. It was the moment the five battlegroups should arrive in the Odessa System. Admiral Epps wanted the last broadcast sent out at fifteen minutes before the fleet would arrive. That was cutting it a little close to Alcon's way of thinking. He preferred to have a little bit of wiggle room in case their target reacted unexpectedly. If Accari bolted and got the Coyote out of position where their ships couldn't cut her off, there was a slim chance the Federation president could elude them and, once gone, he'd never make such a foolish mistake again.

Once they'd learned Marcum had left the protection of Earth, their mission parameters had been changed from neutralizing the leadership of New America to grabbing or eliminating the newly elected UTF president. The Terran Unity, as Alcon had to acclimate himself to calling the new regime, had gambled big on this operation. Nearly half of their combat capability sat in five battlegroups outside of the Odessa System. It had originally been sent to overwhelm the 4th Fleet remnant, but now it would set up a blockade to make sure President Marcum could be snared.

They'd covered everything, thought of every contingency, and Alcon was certain this would be the mission that cemented the Unity's dominion over all of human space. And he played an integral part of it. Pleasant daydreams of perhaps running for political office and enjoying the rewards of his success played through his head when the com officer announced they were broadcasting the last package.

"Captain Alcon, prepare the ship for battle," Admiral Epps said, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. He was a man who was well-aware the bridge activity was being recorded for history. "Let us embrace our destiny."

"We have come in good faith to Odessa, yet our overtures have been ignored. This is unacceptable."

"Chan's voice again," Jackson said. "We still certain it's pre-recorded?"

"There is no doubt," Aegis said into his earpiece.

"In these unprecedented times, there can be no neutral parties. Total war is now no longer just a threat as the warmongers in the United Terran Federation, refusing to accept defeat, are even now gearing up to continue their bloody campaign against the Eastern Star Alliance. As someone entrusted with my peoples' safety, that's not a threat I can ignore. If New America will not entreat with us and at least discuss the options of a partnership moving forward, we must consider New America to be a potential threat."

"Admiral, CIC is running voiceprint analysis on this broadcast and says it appears to have been spliced together from multiple recordings," Hori reported.

"Which means this wasn't their original plan," Jackson said. "President Marcum's appearance has forced them to shift tactics."

"The adjustment means they will want to fully control the engagement," Aegis said. "Their forces will make an appearance soon. Before Captain Accari can fully react to the threat implied in the broadcast."

"Will we be ready?" Jackson asked.

"We already are. Fleet has been separated and deployed."

"Captain Barrett, prepare the Nemesis for battle. We won't enter the fray unless necessary, but let's not be caught flat-footed."

"Aye, Admiral," Barrett said crisply. "OPS, general quarters."

"General quarters, aye!"

The alarm blasted thrice and Commander Hori called the crew to quarters kicking off a flurry of activity that could be felt through the deck even all the way up in the bridge. Power surged through the ship as engineering brought the last two reactors online and ramped up the powerplant to feed the engines and tactical systems.

No matter how many times he called a ship to battle, the electric thrill Jackson felt was always as intense as the first time. His senses became sharper and his mind became clear and wholly focused on the task at hand. The first half of his career in Starfleet was defined by mediocrity and apathy towards his job, something he was hardly proud about in retrospect. After the Phage arrived, however, something was awakened in him. He took offense to being called a combat junkie, but when the time came to use a warship for her intended purpose, Jackson Wolfe was at his absolute best.

"The Nemesis is ready to fight, Admiral." Barrett's voice contained no small amount of pride as his ship went from loitering to mission-ready in under forty minutes. Jackson just nodded, watching all the departments update their status on the main display as they continued their preparations. They were still pulling sensor data over the Bluebird link to the Coyote and her escort ships so Jackson had a better idea of what was going on down in the system than the Alliance ships parked out past the asteroid belt.

"Standby," Aegis said into his ear. "Localized gravimetric distortions indicate pending warp transitions."

"How the hell can you—"

"Transitions detected! Multiple hits!" the tactical officer called out.

"Have CIC map out the transitions, and let's get an idea what we're dealing with here," Barrett said.

"How did you detect them that early?" Jackson finished his question to Aegis.

"Technically, I didn't," Aegis said. "Nemesis did. I just interpret the data from the sensors differently than your tactical computers do." Jackson wasn't sure he liked that answer. The system should be more forthcoming with critical information such as having capabilities they were unaware of.

"Admiral, they're organized into five separate battlegroups, each with fifty-two hulls," Barrett said.

"Two-hundred and sixty ships?" Jackson murmured. "This taskforce was meant to subdue Odessa not grab a single ship. OPS, do we know any of these ships?"

"We're positively identifying one-hundred and forty seven so far that took part in the Battle of Xinjia, sir," Hori said. "They're all from the two fleets that arrived after we'd engaged Kohl's forces."

"Makov and Chan both provided the ships for this operation," Jackson said, still thinking aloud as he tried to understand the scope of what he was seeing. "So, who did they put in charge?"

"Orders, sir?" Barrett asked.

"Coms, open a channel to the Coyote. Audio only, on bridge speakers."

"Channel is open, Admiral."

"Wolfe? You seeing this shit?!" Marcum's voice came over the channel before Jackson could even open his mouth.

"Yes, I do, Mr. President," Jackson said. "We're tracking and cataloging the inbound bogies. Captain Accari, I'd like you to climb up away from Odessa. Push out towards the fifth planet and take the grav assist to bring you heading back towards the Nemesis. They'll react to your movement."

"Yes, sir," Accari's voice came through clear and calm. "Plotting grav assist for the fifth planet, and then we'll be pushing back up towards you. How long do you want me to stay before getting the president out of here?"

"Now, wait a goddamn minute!” Marcum was indignant. “I can make my own decisions on—"

“With all due respect, Mr. President, this is now a military matter, and your safety is my responsibility as the senior military officer onsite," Jackson said. "We'll need them to bite fairly hard on this one, Captain Accari. I want them certain they have you pinned down and hopefully start to converge with their battlegroups."

"I'll sell it, sir."

"Mr. President, we have positioned our forces and are ready to respond," Jackson said.

"Understood, Admiral," Marcum said. "Authorization forthcoming."

There was some muted chatter over the channel and then a new info-pane opened on the main display showing all the Mickeys changing status to full combat ready.

"Aegis is fully activated, Admiral," Marcum said. "God help us if we're wrong."

"Yes, sir," Jackson said, unsure how to respond to that. "Captain Accari, we'll be leaving this channel open and handing you off to CIC so we're certain both of us are getting the most current information. Good luck, Coyote."

"Coyote is on the move," Hori reported. "Escort ships dropping back to cover her withdraw."

"Aegis, you're authorized to access the PA for the bridge, briefing room, captain's office, and upper observation lounge," Jackson said.

"Acknowledged," Aegis said, now over the bridge speakers. Jackson looked and saw the confusion on much of the crew's faces.

"Go ahead and introduce yourself. Let's get this over with."

"Greetings, crew of the Nemesis. I am Aegis. I am a three component system that allows for the autonomous deployment, command, and control of tactical and strategic assets. In other words, I am the intelligence that communicates over Bluebird to manage the entire Mickey fleet in battle."

The faces around him were no less confused, though some seemed genuinely stunned as the implications of what Aegis had told them sank in. He nodded to Barrett.

"That's right, everybody," the captain began. "We've come to Odessa with a secret new superweapon because we thought the Alliance might try to grab our new president. This will be a fight unlike anything you've ever witnessed. An AI supercomputer will be in direct control of almost five-hundred crewless warships. You weren't made aware of it because, unfortunately, CENTCOM and Fleet have too many leaks. This program was kept secret at the highest levels.

"The good news is that there is no learning curve for Aegis. We simply sit and watch. We maintain our readiness, prepare to intervene but, until told otherwise, we're letting Aegis manage the battlespace. Any questions?"

That last line caught the crew by surprise yet again. Captain Barrett's command style wasn't one in which he regularly asked for input or opened the floor for his orders to be questioned. There were a few exchanged looks before the tactical officer spoke up.

"Sir, that's the president down there. We're trusting his safety to a computer? No offense, Admiral, but this sounds like something that hasn't been thoroughly vetted or tested."

"Name?" Jackson asked.

"Lieutenant Commander Sparcus, sir."

"You're not wrong, Commander. This system has not had a full field test like we'd do with any new class of ship or new weapons system. We were trying to devise a way to conduct the tests and keep them a secret when the Alliance wiped out four planets with antimatter bombs. Those bombs weren't fired by ships, they were likely allowed to be put on the surface ahead of time by collaborators.

"We're on the brink right now. The enemy just showed up with over two hundred ships. The Nemesis can't take on a force that size. 4th Fleet will not likely get involved, deciding instead to protect their new capital as best they can. Whether we like it or not, we are now backed into a corner in which we play the only card we have left—Aegis—or we try to not risk any more lives and capitulate to the Alliance and pray they won't just wipe us out anyway."

"Yes, sir," Sparcus said. "I understand."

No one else spoke up. They turned back to their stations and went back to their work. Over the next twelve hours they watched the Alliance ships roar down into the system, now believing Accari was trying to escape via the Columbiana jump point. It was the most obvious jump point along his projected course that would let him get back to Earth quickly.

The ESA had been developing their own RDS engines in parallel with the Federation's work, but they were still decades behind judging by the comparatively tepid acceleration profiles Jackson saw on the threat board. He could afford to remain calm about the president being at risk for the moment because, should the worst happen and Aegis failed, the Nemesis could still get down to extract Marcum well before the Alliance fleet reached the Coyote. The destroyer's warp hop capability meant they'd be well away from the system altogether before the enemy had any chance of reacting to them.

That was short term thinking, however. A failure of Aegis here meant the Federation Parliament would likely revoke his emergency authorization and any hope they had of surviving the ESA's onslaught would be dashed. No pressure at all.

10

"This all looks good, Commander. Carry on."

"Aye, sir!"

Vincent Russo walked the expansive bridge of the Alliance dreadnaught, Koshmar. She was the new flag ship of Commodore Vadim Kohl and even to a fake starship officer like himself, she was a piece of shit. Koshmar had sat out the Phage War like most of 8th Fleet, having already been so far out of date the planners in then-Admiral Marcum's office didn't want to have her just be cannon fodder for a Phage Alpha.

The ship had been designed in a time when the numbered fleets didn't actually fight anybody, and the Warsaw Alliance wanted a ship larger than the New America Bulwark-class battleships. While she had been bigger, she was also fragile, ungainly, slow, under-armored, under-armed, and generally not a ship worthy of the dreadnaught classification. After the conclusion of the Phage War and the burgeoning cold war with the Federation, Alliance Fleet Command took advantage of the distraction the Expansion War provided and sent their three dreadnaughts in for extensive refit.

Of the three, only Koshmar had been deemed in good enough condition to be worth the trouble and even then it had taken the better part of five years to get where they were now…and that wasn't all that great. The ship creaked and groaned under even moderate acceleration, which told him the structural upgrades hadn't quite been enough. The new avionics systems seemed to have been added without the engineering teams actually talking with each other as there was numerous data bus and power MUX conflicts his crews chased down. The engines that had been fitted seemed a bit underpowered but, even so, they still taxed the powerplant to the point the lights flickered when he ordered breakaway power applied so they could get up out of their holding orbit.

That didn't even begin to cover the half-assed way the ship's interior was assembled. She was the most uncomfortable ship Russo had ever been on. He felt certain that when they attempted a warp-transition out of the system, the ship wouldn't survive it, and that was assuming she survived the trip to the jump point.

"A fine ship, yes, Captain?" Kohl asked as he rolled up to where Russo stood. "She's a little rough around the edges, just like a real fighting ship should be. Too much decadence and comfort to be had aboard these newer ships."

"That's…exactly what I was thinking, sir."

"Come to my office, Captain. It's time you learned why Makov and Chan were so willing to concede to my demands."

Kohl's chair whirred as it rolled away so quickly that Russo had to jog a few steps to catch back up. Since warships weren't designed with handicap accessibility in mind, Kohl was mostly restricted to Officer Country where the hatchway thresholds were level with the deck. Anything lower than Deck Fourteen, and he'd need a few spacers to get him around. The Koshmar was especially unforgiving in her layout when it came to anyone not being able to contort themselves through tight spaces. In Kohl's current state of mind that was probably a relief for the crew.

They made their way down the shallow ramp off the bridge and into the commodore's office, which was the first on the right. Russo stepped in and closed the hatch behind him, waiting until Kohl rolled behind his desk before sitting down himself. Kohl pointed to the wall monitor and brought up the image of an enormous construct floating in space that didn't look human-built. The lines made it seem almost organic.

"This is Abyss," he said. "It was something we were building for the Darshik before the Federation's war cost them too much, and they pulled resources back to the front. After they abandoned it, we took it over and completed it as best we could."

"What does it do?" Russo asked softly, trying to keep the horror from his voice. Another alien weapon? Did these people never learn?

"To be fair, I'm not sure how it does what it does," Kohl admitted. "I'm…not an engineer. The gist of it is that it can target Federation RDS engines from great distances and induce a fatal instability that will either cripple or destroy the ship. There's no way to defend against it, no way to detect it. The Darshik science caste designed it to counter the Fed ships ripping through their lines, specifically the destroyers."

"Why hasn't it been deployed before now?" Russo asked.

"It doesn't work the way Makov and Chan think it does. Tell me, Captain, how did we develop our own RDS engines?"

"We reverse engineered the Gen-1 RDS pods from… Ah, I see."

"Exactly. Our ships have the same gravimetric fingerprint the Fed ships have. Abyss is a bit indiscriminate when it targets, or I should say that, sometimes, what it hits isn't what you were aiming at. It will often be attracted to the strongest signature in the locality. Our scientists say it's an inherent flaw, and that even if they had a hundred years and unlimited resources, there's little chance they could correct it."

"So in a heated battle we're just as likely to blow up half of our own fleet as we are theirs," Russo said. "And without a superluminal com system of our own, we can't easily coordinate engine shutdowns across a battlespace to fire the weapon."

"So, you fully understand the challenges we face." Kohl leaned back. "If I give this weapon to either of those two, they will use it with reckless abandon. The losses of our forces will mean nothing to them as long as they manage to permanently cripple the Federation's war machine."

Russo didn't answer right away. Given some of the bloodbaths Kohl had been responsible for, concern about his own spacers was a sentiment he hadn't expected. Or did the maniac actually think his losses in Odmena and Xinjia weren't his fault?

"What's your plan? You've told them they could have Abyss. They won't let you keep this fleet without it."

"Of which I'm painfully aware," Kohl sighed. "And there's no chance of sabotaging it. The first time they use it, and it doesn't rip a ship apart, they'll know something is up. Our understanding of the Darshik tech is so limited we have no real chance of—" A warbling tone coming from Kohl's desk that sounded familiar to Russo interrupted them. The commodore frowned, looked at Russo, then back at the desk before sliding out one of the drawers and putting his finger to his lips. Russo nodded back his understanding.

"This is Kohl…

"Yes we were just going over the logistics of that now…

"No, I'll deliver it to you…

"Because I'd prefer to keep the location I've put it in a secret for the time being. I'm sure you of all people can appreciate that…

"Very well. We'll bring it there, but there are still some details of the machine's operation we need to discuss, Councilman…

"You'll care when you're sitting on the ship it decides to rip apart. Don't make me second-guess this arrangement. Kohl out."

He jammed his hand violently into the desk drawer, apparently missing the button he was trying to push a few times, and then slammed it shut. Russo could see he breathed heavy and his hands were clenched into fists. It was easy to guess who was probably on the other end of that channel, and it was also easy to guess the cabal had gotten themselves a new batch of Bluebird boxes.

"They already want to deploy it, sir?"

"They do," Kohl answered, regaining his composure with some effort. "Makov is confident they will eliminate New America as a threat within the week, and then they want us to take Abyss to the Solar System and demonstrate to Earth that their protection of the Fed refugees will not be tolerated under the new order."

"New America wasn't out of the game with the neutralization of New Sierra and Columbiana?"

"They've declared their intent to leave the Federation, but they still have a lot of 4th Fleet firepower at their disposal. Makov has sent a taskforce to handle it, a group so large they're now concerned the Fed fleet that looked like it might be heading back to Xinjia presents a real threat. Wolfe's toy ships might not have crews, but there is still a lot of them, and he doesn't bluff. If he's taking them to the capital it's because he has some sort of plan."

Russo just nodded, unsure what to make of all the new information he was being bombarded with. He wasn't sure he agreed with the assessment of Jackson Wolfe. The admiral had been known to use subterfuge before including bluffs, feints, or outright deceptions when he was forced into the weaker position as he was now. The fact the Nemesis was spotted heading towards Xinjia almost guaranteed he was going someplace else. Letting the fleet be spotted near Haven almost makes it too obvious it's a fake out.

"How do we even move this thing?" he asked, pointing at the image of Abyss.

"It has its own transport ship. Similar construction to our starfighter carrier design." Kohl brought up another image of a skeletal ship that had more exposed spars and bracing than it did enclosed hull space. "This wraps around it and can fly it where we need it. It's ungainly and slow as hell, but it gets the job done."

"You're sure you want to hand this over to Makov and Chan, Commodore?" Russo asked, treading carefully. "This could just as easily be used against us in the future as the Feds."

"Ah! That's why I have a secret kill-switch to the machine," Kohl said. When Russo didn't say anything, he leaned forward. "Don't you want to know what it is, Captain?"

"If you need me to know, I assume you'll tell me, sir," Russo said. The persona he'd crafted during his years with Kohl was one of a relatively competent but not personally ambitious officer with unwavering loyalty. The character of Captain Vincent Russo wouldn't be asking about things over his paygrade that might be used as a political tool so despite his burning desire to know how to disable Abyss, for now he kept it to himself.

"If I had a hundred more just like you I'd rule all of human space," Kohl laughed. Russo gave him an indulgent smile in return, but inside he felt sick to his stomach. The Federation was hanging on by its fingernails and now Kohl was about to hand over the tools to finish them off completely.

"The Koshmar stands ready, sir. I just need a destination."

Agent Pike typed furiously to get his thoughts and impressions down in the official report before the moment slipped away. He'd just had a too-brief conversation with deep cover asset, Agent Russo, who served as the captain of Vadim Kohl as unlikely as that was. The intel he'd passed on was nothing but bad, and it came at the worst time possible.

Russo couldn't risk speaking to him for more than a minute or so at a time, but he'd managed to tell Pike that the ESA had its own secret weapon they'd kept hidden and were now ready to deploy. He said it targeted the engines of starships but wasn't sure how it worked past that. When he had more detailed information, he'd risk a longer communique. Pike hadn't wasted what little time they had peppering him with questions, but he had asked him to clarify what the weapon did. Apparently it could target a ship over great distances and supposedly worked instantaneously.

What Russo didn't have was a way to defend against it, any data on its actual effectiveness, where the thing was located, or where they intended to deploy it. With all the unknowns it was difficult for Pike to craft a report that his boss and certain Fleet officers would see. He couldn't even tell them what the thing looked like on radar, how big it was, or what they could expect if hit by it. So far, the report he was writing was so thin on detail it would likely just be ignored by everyone who saw it.

“That’s actually all he gave you?” Admiral Celesta Wright asked, reading over his shoulder.

“Russo should have been pulled years ago, but he got lost in the shuffle,” Pike said defensively. “I’m really not sure how much we should trust anything he’s giving us. His perspective seems skewed, and it's entirely possible he's been flipped and is now feeding us bad intel. I'd hate to think that's true, but there's a reason we don't leave people in for nearly as long as he has been."

"So you think you should ignore what he's saying?"

"Can't." Pike shook his head. "I'm operating in the capacity of his handler right now, not an analyst. This will have to be passed up the chain with my recommendation to take it seriously. My asset seems highly concerned about it, so I can't blow it off."

"But you think the people above you will ignore it." It wasn't a question. Celesta had been in the fleet since the bad old days when she was handpicked by one Admiral Winters to undermine and sabotage an Earth-born destroyer captain she despised. Scoffing or ignoring credible threats from intelligence reports was a long-standing tradition in CENTCOM that, unfortunately, was still enjoyed by some in the upper ranks.

"Maybe. I'll still send it to Perez, Wolfe, and Pitt along with my division lead," Pike said. "The problem is that this is coming out of the blue. There have been no whispers of an ESA superweapon from any of our other sources, and now Russo—whose own credibility will be suspect—is telling me stories about some magical machine that can kill ships from across a star system, but he has no idea how it works or where it will be used. It's just not the sort of thing a spooked and exhausted CENTCOM will be willing to come out from under Earth's protection for. Nobody will want to be the one who got this wrong and flew a taskforce into a trap."

"I'll push it on my end," she said. "My gut tells me this Russo isn't crazy or a double agent."

"First rule, my sweet…never trust a gut. Your own or someone else's. I'm inclined to agree with you, but we're still playing this by the book."

"By the book? You?"

"Yes, I understand the irony of that given my disciplinary record for breaking the rules, but the stakes were never this high. I'll get this going to my people, but I'll still allow you to pass it on back-channel to the frontline units so we're not caught blindsided. It would have been a bit more helpful if Russo had managed to give us any detail about what it did."

"I'll start with Wolfe and Accari, and then pass it on to Captain Risher and his group."

"This is it," Pike said with a sigh, leaning back. "This won't be some protracted war of attrition. We'll know in the next few months if humanity will live under the democratic rule of the Federation or the authoritarian regime of this cabal that's taken over the ESA."

"Have faith." Celesta leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before leaving the flightdeck and walking through the airlock back to her own Prowler.

"Yeah…faith."

11

"They've fully committed, Admiral. Even if they abort now, they're too far down into the system to break off and escape."

"Agreed," Jackson said. "Aegis…it's showtime."

"Executing first series of intercept warp hops," Aegis's calm voice came from the bridge speakers.

There were gasps and hisses among the bridge crew as two hundred starships transitioned into warp almost simultaneously. The first wave was fifteen minutes out before two more, smaller waves jumped into the system. It was disconcerting seeing all the statuses on the main display shift so uniformly. If Jackson didn't know better, he'd swear it was a poorly programmed simulation as that type of overall command and control had otherwise been impossible with fleets of crewed ships.

For short warp hops the ships were only capable of achieving a stabilized velocity of two point two-two times the speed of light so it wasn't instantaneous, but the thirty or forty minutes of flight time still meant the battle moved much faster than most fleet commanders were accustomed to. Rather than days and weeks to prepare for a closing engagement, captains of warp-hop capable ships had less than an hour before they closed on the enemy.

"They aren't going to know what the hell hit them," Barrett said softly.

The Alliance forces had entered the system in a four-pronged assault meant to give them adequate coverage of known jump points and keep the Coyote pinned down in the inner system. When Accari made his move, the on-site commander for the ESA foolishly abandoned that strategy and gave chase like a pack of dogs on a rabbit. It was so disorganized and chaotic that Jackson wasn't sure there was even an overall command structure in place.

"First group transitioning now," Aegis said. The Nemesis's tactical computers began cataloging the new arrivals as their RDS signatures were detected, using the input from Aegis to assign the right call sign to each ship.

Right away Jackson could see that his creation had opted for a completely unconventional approach as his ships came out of warp with such precision they were already bunched up into a tight column formation. Whereas Jackson would have arrayed his forces into three phalanx formations, stacked vertically to optimize point-defense coverage, Aegis strung out his ships in a two-row column that looked like it was flying past the loosely formed up Alliance ships that were coming down past the orbit of the sixth planet.

This was the largest Alliance group and made up half of the total force they'd come to Odessa with. It was clear that the group commander had been tasked with pushing the Coyote away from the DeLonges jump point and along the inner system boundary where she would run into one of the other two groups still moving in. As he watched them close, he couldn't see how Aegis intended to draw the sprawling ESA formation to the Mickeys.

"Second group transitioning now." The next group of Mickeys appeared on tactical display, this one jumping in directly behind one of the Alliance groups and immediately giving chase. Aegis had transitioned them into real-space so close to the enemy ships it likely set off their anti-collision alarms. The maneuver was incredibly risky even for ships with no crews.

"Cutting it a bit close," Jackson said. "Let's not lose any ships before the shooting starts."

"I will not," Aegis answered. Jackson frowned, unsure if it meant it wouldn't lose any ships or that it wouldn't comply with his request.

"Third group transitioning," Aegis said. This formation had transitioned in well ahead of third Alliance force and immediately began braking. Jackson could see that the two smaller formations had effectively disrupted the ESA's plan to pinch Accari, and now the Coyote had a clear corridor to bounce up out of the inner system and make a run for the DeLonges jump point.

"Coms, please, tell the Coyote to begin their withdraw," he said.

"Aye, sir."

As the two smaller formations seemed confused, the larger group of ESA ships had begun to come about and turn into the strung out line of Fed ships that seemed to be flying past them without so much as a second glance. Over the next seven hours they began to tighten up and begin pursuit the two columns of Fed ships. Jackson looked at the mission clock and saw that they turned to chase his ships well after they'd have received word from the other two groups.

"The length of time between the two smaller groups realizing they had lost the ability to catch the Coyote and when the larger group began to turn in on our forces makes it highly probable there is a command ship in the outer system." Aegis seemed to be reading his mind.

"The Coyote is clear, Aegis," Jackson said. "Go ahead and remove these uninvited guests from Odessa's sky, if you please."

"At once, Admiral."

All of the Mickeys in-system changed posture immediately. The group that had transitioned in close behind a pursuing formation accelerated and opened fire, ripping into the rear of the group as the faster ships left the slower ones to fend for themselves. Jackson watched, fascinated as Aegis brought its ships in close enough to use the laser batteries, laying down so much fire that what missiles did get through from the ESA ships were easily collected by the point defense guns.

The group that was still slowing to allow the trailing ESA ships to catch up used an entirely different tactic, this time with a more conventional opening move of launching missiles in three waves. The first group out were Hornets, high-explosive missiles that didn't have the power to punch through starship armor but provided a screen for the more potent nuclear Shrikes trailing behind them.

Those skirmishes were proceeding as expected, but it was the third and largest group that caught everyone by surprise. With the type of synchronized precision only Aegis could pull off, all the ships came about to port, and the double column became a fast-closing noose. The maneuver was incredibly difficult thanks to the high relative velocity all the ships were carrying.

The forward ships had to push hard to curl up and around, swinging inward while trying to bleed off as much speed as possible while the trailing ships had to push against inertia to brake and cut in behind the ESA ships. The middle of the formation decelerated into their turns so they were facing the enemy head-on. The whole thing was choreographed so perfectly that there weren't any gaps in the line as the ring began to close.

The next three hours were intense as the Alliance ships seemed to realize what was happening and tried to disengage, but it was far too late for that. As soon as the leading ships began braking and trying to come about to escape, Aegis split the columns so that the Federation ships were now angling above and below relative to the engagement.

The noose had now become a net and the Alliance ships had been carrying so much speed they had no hope of escape. Some captains realized this and went to full power, hoping to rush the lines and slip through a gap, but Aegis hadn't left any gaps.

"The engagement will be over in seven hours, Admiral," Aegis said.

Jackson watched the ring tactic with a bit of awe. On its face, it was incredibly simple, but it could only be done with the precision the Aegis system provided. The ships had to be perfectly placed so their overlapping fields of fire would not only cut off any escape, they would intensify as the ring closed. Human commanders telling human pilots and tactical officers what to do simply could not execute this maneuver. The diametric shift in space warfare was almost a tangible thing he could feel as he watched his creation prepare to wipe out an entire enemy armada.

"No survivors, Aegis," he said quietly. "Not one."

"Understood, Admiral."

The next hours were some of the most brutal of Jackson's life. Regardless of the ESA's leadership bombing Fed planets, those were still human spacers being butchered by his machine out there. Feelings of guilt and revulsion roiled through him as Aegis's trap tightened and the Alliance ships were shredded. The Mickeys relied mostly on laser batteries and mag-cannons as missiles were something they were in short supply of now. The precision of shot placements into vulnerable areas meant that energy wasn't wasted boiling away meters of hull armor and the ferrous shells from the mag-cannons punched through powerplants and magazine compartments, blowing ships apart with ease.

During that same time period, the other two formations continued to hammer on the smaller ESA groups. The formation closing in a head-on engagement had lost six ships, the other had lost two. The group executing the ring maneuver lost another five. If those had been ships with crews and captains he knew personally Jackson would have been devastated, but as these were unmanned ships it was merely something he observed.

The fact he lost only thirteen hulls for the complete annihilation of such a large Alliance taskforce made the battle one of the most lopsided victories in the history of space warfare. Even the Phage hadn't been able to so thoroughly rout the outnumbered and outmatched human fleet they faced.

"Looks like there are only eleven Alliance ships left," Barrett said with a huge yawn. The entire first watch bridge crew had stayed on duty for the twenty-seven-hour engagement, and it showed.

"Aegis, why are you letting those six ships disengage?" Jackson asked, stepping up to the display. "Aegis? Aegis?!"

He started to put his earpiece back in, assuming it was a com problem, when the status board began to change. All of the Mickeys showed as disconnected from the system, entering a safe mode. On sensors Jackson watched as they all began to drift on ballistic courses, their drive power dropping to almost nothing.

"Damnit! Get a tech team down to the vault!"

"Aye, sir!" Barrett said. "OPS!"

"On it, Captain!" Commander Hori said.

"Tactical, are any of the remaining Alliance ships sniffing around the Mickeys?" Barrett asked.

"Negative, Captain. They're retreating at full burn."

"Please, monitor the situation up here and interface with Odessa as needed, Captain," Jackson said. "I'm heading down to see what happened."

"Yes, sir."

Admiral Epps stared at the sensor replays as the entire battle was shown again, sped up so that it was conducted in a matter of minutes.

His entire command had been destroyed. Eleven older cruisers had survived somehow, but that wouldn't be enough to save his life when he reported back to Xinjia. In truth, he didn't care whether he lived or died at this point. In the span of thirty six hours, he'd lost two-hundred and forty-nine ships and the lives of one-hundred and seventy-three thousand spacers. Vadim Kohl's debacle in the Odmena System paled in comparison to Epps's own failures here in Odessa. He stared at the names of the lost spacers as they marched up the screen in a steady stream. There were so many it would be over an hour before the list reached its end.

The losses were so overwhelming he was numb to it, his mind shutting down its emotional responses in a defensive reflex to save his sanity. The tactics and precision of the force that had shredded his own in such a short time had been like nothing he'd ever seen. They attacked as one entity, reacting instantaneously to a rapidly evolving battlespace and keeping his own commanders so off-balance they couldn't mount an effective defense, to say nothing of a counterattack. These were not the simple drone ships the intel analysts had warned him of.

"Admiral, did you notice what happens at the end of the battle when our surviving ships tried to retreat?"

"Huh?" Epps asked, turning to Captain Alcon. He hadn't known the man had been standing behind him.

"The last forty seconds of sensor data show all the enemy ships cease fire and drift out of formation. Engine outputs all dropped out as well."

"What are your thoughts?" Epps focused on the conversation. It gave him a distraction from the list of names still scrolling by on the right-hand side of the display.

"If we believe these are drone ships as Intel has told us, it looks to me like they lost their command and control signal," Alcon said. "They're all started drifting simultaneously and allowed our eleven remaining ships to withdraw. Look here, this group looked to be peeling off in pursuit and should have easily caught them. Now, they're on a ballistic trajectory into the outer system."

"So the Fed's new superweapon isn't infallible, but is this something that could be exploited? The C&C signal almost has to be coming over their superluminal com system, so it can't be jammed."

"Most likely. But perhaps we can figure out what was happening right before the signal died. There might not be any correlation, and it was just a malfunction on their end, but it at least gives us someplace to start."

"Put your people on it, Captain. I will compile this into a report for the Unity leadership and send the com drone just before we transition out," Epps said. "They will need to see this as soon as possible. I will accept full responsibility for the failure of our mission, so it is likely this will be our last cruise together, Captain."

Normal fleet tradition dictated the captain respond in some manner to the effect that it was an honor to fly with him. It was a meaningless platitude, but it was one that Alcon couldn't seem to muster. When Epps looked the man was just nodding in agreement.

12

"Coolant line blew! You can't go in there until it's cleaned up, sir!"

"Make it fast! I need to get in there right now!" Jackson shouted over the noise of blaring alarms and the powerful blowers evacuating the vault space of the coolant vapor still boiling out of the open hatch.

Aegis needed to be cooled cryogenically when it was operating at full capacity. If one of the liquid nitrogen lines blew, the failsafes should have kicked in and shut it down. That appeared to be what happened, but he wouldn't know if the system suffered any damage until he could get into the vault and access the terminal directly.

Specialists from engineering wearing protective gear were cleaning up the mess while Jackson stood helpless outside the main corridor and watched. The lines had been installed in a rush, and when the supply line blew the automatic shutoff didn't engage for several minutes and quite a bit of liquid nitrogen was sprayed into the compartment. It would quickly boil off into a gas for the air handlers to reclaim, but there promised to be quite a bit of damage to delicate electronics after being doused in a liquid that was negative two-hundred degrees Celsius.

"Just a few more minutes, Admiral!"

The air cleared, and Jackson could see the paint on the bulkheads near the vault hatch was blistered and cracked from the extreme cold. Not a promising sign of what he'd find inside. They were carrying a full tech team cleared to know what Aegis was, but they weren't carrying any of the design engineers. If the computer was compromised or damaged, they would likely need to return to port for repairs, which would chew up time they just didn't have.

"Admiral Wolfe, contact the bridge. Admiral Wolfe please contact the bridge."

"Excuse me, Chief," Jackson said, maneuvering through the engineering techs and to a bulkhead-mounted com panel. "Go for Wolfe."

"Sir, the leadership on Odessa will only talk to you," Barrett said. "They'd like you to make contact at your earliest convenience."

"Could you gauge their mood?"

"Scared. They also didn't seem to be enthused about all of the Mickeys drifting around in their space, but I don't think they'll be demanding we leave. Perhaps Aegis's display convinced them to remain with the Federation."

"Seems implausible, but I appreciate your optimism, Captain." Jackson rolled his eyes. "Inform them that as soon as I am able, I will make contact. I assume they're still on the Bluebird network?"

"Affirmative, sir."

"Very good. Wolfe out."

"Admiral, you're clear to go in, sir," a technician said, handing him a self-contained rebreather mask. "Just wear this as a precaution, please. Our people are repairing the cryo-pipe now…should be done in an hour or so."

"Thank you, Specialist," Jackson said, slipping the mask over his head and waiting as it activated and sealed to his face. The device would give him around ninety minutes of breathable air and was only meant for emergency use, but it would be more than enough for him to figure out if the loss of cryogenic coolant had permanently damaged Aegis.

As soon as he got into the vault he began a physical inspection of the Aegis casing. It was made of an advanced ceramic material that should have been able to withstand the destruction of the Nemesis, so he was unsurprised when it showed no damage from being doused with liquid nitrogen. The rest of the equipment, however, hadn't fared so well.

The connected terminals had cracks in both the screens and plastic housings. The cabling that snaked across the deck looked none the worse for the ordeal, but there was no way to tell if there was any damage to the delicate conductors inside the jackets. Thankfully, all the Bluebird equipment Aegis needed to talk to the Mickey fleet was housed two decks below and was spared.

"Aegis, respond. Command code Wolfe Alpha Alpha."

"System offline," the monotone voice replied.

"Expand."

"Thermal event logged. Primary core offline. Secondary core offline. Emergency safeguards active."

"When will primary core be online?"

"Unknown."

"Expand."

"Repairs in progress. Time to re-initialization unknown. Extent of damage…unknown."

"Status of backup data core."

"Unknown."

"Fuck!" Jackson swore under his breath.

Aegis was completely self-contained, and that included its robust damage control systems that could, in theory, completely restore the system as long as the backup data cores had remained intact. If not, then Aegis became a multi-billion dollar chunk of ballast. He signaled to one of the techs he'd brought with him to help manage the system.

"Sir?"

"I have to go to the bridge. In the meantime, disconnect everything but the power cables from Aegis. Once the coolant lines are hooked back up, let me know before they start the flow again. I also want you and your team to go down to the com shop and get all these terminals replaced and get them configured to talk to the machine. You have no other priority except this right now."

"Aye-aye, sir."

Jackson left the team to their work and rushed out of the secure area and to the lifts with his security detail, a Marine named Emil Schmidt, right on his heels. The prospect of Aegis suffering a catastrophic failure on its first mission weighed heavy on his mind. All the hand wringing and soul searching about the ethics of activating such a machine, and the fucking thing died before the end of the first operation.

Others had questioned him and Dr. Ito about the lack of proper real-world testing of the three components of Aegis together, now it appeared they were right. Granted, a cryo-pipe blowing wasn't something they'd have tested for, but perhaps they should have. Aegis should have been smart enough to begin shutting down in an orderly fashion down to just its interface module when it detected the loss of coolant.

He had no choice but to let the damage control process play out, so he put it to the back of his mind and thought of how he should reallocate his forces. He would probably need to recall the three remaining ships of Taskforce Wolfpack as he doubted 4th Fleet would do be inclined to join with them after what happened here in Odessa. They would actually probably be frightened into even further fortifying their capital system after the Alliance's failed attack, leaving some of their other planets undefended.

"What do you have, Captain?" Jackson stormed onto the bridge and observed how bleary eyed the crew looked after being at their stations for over a full day.

"Odessa's chancellor—er, president, I guess—is standing by for you to contact her." Barrett gestured to the bridge briefing room. "She's been selected by the planetary senate to be the leader for now until they figure out how they're restructuring. She's opting for an aggressive posture and implying the Alliance came here because we did and that President Marcum came under a false flag by hiding a battlefleet in the outer system."

"I think I get the picture," Jackson said. "Aegis is offline for the time being. Have the backup team activate the remote links and start moving the ships up away from Odessa and form up in the outer system."

"Yes, sir."

It was fortunate the engineers had built in limited remote access ability for the Mickeys. The interface would only allow for simple navigation commands, designed so that a limited number of people could ferry a large number of ships before they were tied into the Aegis network. It at least afforded Jackson the opportunity to collect his battlefleet and keep them from drifting aimlessly through a system that didn't want them there.

"Admiral Wolfe. Thank you for your prompt response to our request." The tone of voice and sarcasm voice on the other end of the channel indicated it wasn't going to be a polite conversation.

"As you might imagine, Madam President, there are many demands on my time as my taskforce works to rid your skies of Alliance ships," Jackson said.

"Your forces just engaged a diplomatic envoy here at our request, Admiral Wolfe. You certainly don't expect me to thank you for that, do you?"

"How many diplomatic envoys arrive with over two-hundred and fifty warships?" Jackson asked. "President Marcum came here in good faith to ensure New America understands that the charter they signed onto was a binding agreement. Are you telling me the battlefleet attempting to capture or kill the Federation president was here at your express invitation? If that's the case, this conversation is about to take a turn for the worse."

There was a long uncomfortable pause in which Jackson imagined the New America president was realizing just how her words could be construed.

"I, of course, was not referring to the fleet of warships the ESA contingent brought with them," she said.

"The same ships you claimed I wrongfully engaged as a diplomatic envoy?"

"Your point, Admiral?" she asked crossly. Being put back on the defensive was clearly not how she expected this conversation to go.

"To be blunt, Madam President, you have much to answer for," Jackson said, his patience with political niceties reaching its limit. "You have broken a signed and ratified treaty, illegally recalled 4th Fleet units from the United Terran Federation, consorted with the enemy, declared yourself the leader of a nation we do not recognize, and—at least how it appears to me—conspired to have the new president captured or killed by inviting the same group that just depopulated two of your planets to the Odessa System. That is my point." There were some strangled noises on the other side of the connection as the president tried to compose herself.

"How dare you accuse me of—"

"Am I mistaken in anything I've said?" Jackson asked, keeping his voice calm and low. "The Federation has declared war on the ESA. New America is part of the Federation. You cannot nullify the New Sierra Charter just because you feel like it. There are procedures and systems in place for an enclave or system to withdraw and those don't include taking critical military units with you. Even now, when Alliance forces show up and threaten us, you ordered ships still technically under the command of UTF CENTCOM to stand down. There's a word for this behavior, Madam President, and I don't think it's one you'll want attached to your name."

"What is it you want, Admiral?" she asked, her tone now conciliatory rather than confrontational. Jackson could only marvel at a politician's instincts. She came out on the attack to push him back, knowing she was in the weaker position, and when that didn't work, she immediately shifted into bargaining.

"I want 4th Fleet units to respond to UTF CENTCOM's call to arms. They will most likely remain in New America as a defensive screen, but they will adhere to our chain of command. Second, you will publicly denounce the ESA's actions here and will reaffirm your commitment to the Federation and its ideals. That includes giving up the title of president. If New America wishes to secede from the Federation, they will follow the proper procedure. Third—and this is just a suggestion—Odessa should send their selected representatives to Earth to take their place in the UTF Parliament." Jackson leaned back in his chair, carefully choosing his next words.

"We will win this war, Madam President. You have just seen an inkling of the power we bring to bear when my forces obliterated an ESA taskforce that likely represented nearly half of their combat capability. We did this in a single battle. When this is all over, there will be those who stood with the Federation…and those who didn't."

"That's blunt enough, Admiral. We will take your request under advisement. Perhaps we were a bit hasty in the aftermath of CENTCOM failing to protect two vital planets and billions of lives."

"It's a time sensitive offer." Jackson said, ignoring her petty jab. "We will be withdrawing, but we will be in contact with Earth and CENTCOM, and I will advise them of our conversation. I can appreciate your position, ma'am, but I hope now that you've had some time you will clearly see your best chance for survival is to work with us. Thank you for your time. Nemesis out."

Once the channel closed, he let out an explosive breath. He had just overstepped his bounds, and not in a small way. He'd waded into enclave politics and issued ultimatums a Fleet officer was in no way authorized to give. What he'd hoped to do, however, was to save Marcum's reputation back on Earth and get the 4th Fleet assets they desperately needed. The new president's mission to Odessa was a complete bust. He didn't get the audience with the New American government he requested and was chased out of the system by an ESA taskforce.

Jackson hoped if his words caused them to come groveling back to the Parliament that the situation might be salvaged. As just an admiral and not a PM or ambassador, he'd been able to get away with making accusations and using inflammatory language no political animal would have ever dreamed of. He hoped that, coupled with the display Aegis had just put on in the system, would convince Odessa that New America was better tying its future to the Federation and not the ESA.

He quickly made some notes about the exchange while the impressions were fresh so he could give Marcum and Pitt a more complete report before walking back out onto the bridge. They would both be pissed about him assuming so much authority, but they'd also likely see the necessity of it.

"Mickeys are under remote command and are heading back uphill now, sir," Barrett said as when he saw his boss come out of the briefing room. "Should we be following them?"

"Run the fleet into five different holding formations outside the system boundary and as far away from any major jump points as you can," Jackson said. "Once they're underway, set course for Eternis Pax. We'll be linking up with Captain Risher's taskforce there. We'll continue to work the problems with Aegis on this end, but we can't waste time sitting in Odessa. Once the system is restored, the Mickeys can be called to wherever we need them."

"Right away, Admiral."

Jackson watched the bridge activity for a moment before nodding to Barrett and walking off the bridge. He was getting too old to be staying up for days at a time managing battles and playing politics. With Aegis down, there promised to be more long stints ahead with the outcome now in question. Not the auspicious start for his weapon system he'd wanted.

13

"This is…unbelievable."

Sam Trapp didn't know what to say in response. The former aide to Admiral Wolfe flew in a stolen Fleet courier ship with one other passenger: Admiral Xiao of the Alliance Defense Fleet. The fleet's new name always gave Trapp a chuckle given the ESA had been the aggressor in practically every engagement between them and the Federation.

The pair had escaped a minimum security detention center on a planet that had once been used for heavy production, but was now a secret Fleet research facility. They stole the ship without too much trouble and began making their way back to Alliance space. Admiral Xiao had been captured by the CIS and had spent some months being pumped full of drugs to make him pliable and questioned over and over by Agents. This was after he'd watched his entire command get blown apart after he flew them through a minefield on a mission to secure a Fed supply depot.

Trapp had been an embedded asset for the Alliance Military Intelligence Bureau, put in Starfleet and through dumb luck had gotten herself into Jackson Wolfe's inner circle. She became overconfident and pushed too far, however. People became suspicious, and she had been caught by the admiral's tame Marine bodyguard of all people. Wolfe had then just stashed her at the secret base, unsure what to do with her. Thankfully, the Fleet personnel there were so complacent and unprofessional that she'd been able to escape within a week of being put there.

Now, the unlikely partners were flying their stolen ship through the DeLonges System and looking at what was left of the planet New Sierra. The devastation was unimaginable. She knew that this could only have been done by the ESA's antimatter bombs. The beautiful blues and greens she remembered of the planet were replaced by roiling, angry clouds of brown and gray. The coverage was absolute so she couldn't see the surface through the ship's limited optics, but they were able to tie into the system's local network and see pictures taken from drones that had been sent down through the cloud cover.

"Entire cities are gone. There is nothing left living on these worlds," Xiao went on. "We did this. How could we do this?"

"We've always been leading up to this," Trapp said. "You saw the classified briefs from Odmena. If it makes you feel any better, this wasn't the work of honorable military officers like yourself, Admiral. This came from a cabal within the Alliance Council, likely facilitated by Vadim Kohl's people."

"You work for these people?"

"I worked for the Bureau," she corrected. "I was lent out to the cabal. I'm apolitical, Admiral. One government is much like another when you're working in the seedy underbelly as I do. They're all little more than wolves that rule over the sheep with their blessing. They might not all start that way, but they all end that way."

"So cynical for one so young," Xiao said, still flicking through the images they'd pulled from the public access networks. "You feel nothing when you see this?"

"I'm cynical, not dead," Trapp said. "Of course, this bothers me and before you ask…no, they never let me know they had planned a multi-planet genocide. I would have never helped this any more than you would have if your superiors had ordered your ships to deliver these bombs."

"Ah," Xiao said. "Perhaps I am too quick to condemn, ignoring the blood on my own hands."

They fell silent as their purloined ship zipped across the orbit of New Sierra, the computer squawking about all the navigation hazards left behind from the destruction of the ships and orbital platforms that had been around the planet. Trapp stared out at the starfield through the forward portholes, not wanting to see the ruins of the four planets Makov and his people had hit.

She'd been honest when she told Xiao she'd have never been party to this sort of thing, but was that enough? What about now? Would she do something to make sure this never happened again, or would she just allow herself to be taken back in and sent back out on another assignment?

"What do you think will happen to us when we get back to Xinjia?" she asked.

"I'll be executed after being tortured again to make sure the Federation didn't flip me. You'll probably be debriefed, and then kept back as an analyst since you'd be useless for another deep cover mission." Xiao was so matter of fact about it that Trapp couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"And you're fine with this?"

"What else is there to do? I couldn't just sit the rest of my life in prison, forgotten on a planet only a few people even know exists."

"What if we…did something," Trapp said carefully. "Right now, the cabal has the upper hand, but they're still a small group of people." Xiao looked at her suspiciously.

"Forgive me for assuming this is an intelligence operative trying to entrap me."

"You just said they were going to kill you anyway. What've you got to lose?"

"So, just like that you want to betray the Alliance?" Xiao was still skeptical, and Trapp could understand why. Intelligence spooks were the least liked or trusted people in the military. He'd assume anything she said was a calculated lie.

"No…not betray the Alliance. I want to save them from the Terran Unity or whatever the hell Makov and Chan end up finally deciding to call their little club. If they succeed in gaining full control of the ESA, they'll finish off the Federation and Earth, and then everybody will be living under their tyranny."

"How did this get so complicated?" Xiao asked.

"Because as soon as the Phage were defeated, the politicians crawled back out from under their rocks and tried to turn the aftermath to their advantage." Trapp shrugged when he looked at her. "Like I said…I'm a cynic. I don't think the Alliance is any more virtuous than the Federation or vice versa, but I do know the Unity is something we would all suffer under."

"Assuming I believe you, what could we even do? We're two people who will be immediately taken into custody and not allowed near anything or anyone critical to the mission," Xiao said. "The Unity's leadership didn't get this far by being careless and foolish."

"Our intelligence service is no different than any other," Trapp said. "There will be double-agents, triple-agents, saboteurs, and even those willing to do whatever it takes for the greater good. It won't be difficult to link up with people of a like mind."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"What can we do specifically? I have no idea. Part of me wants to just find some small, meaningless world that will be largely ignored and disappear. But the other part of me knows I won't have a peaceful night of sleep for the rest of my life if I don't atone for my part in what led to this atrocity. There has to be something we can do."

"Very well. For now, I will take your proposal at face value. We have some weeks of travel still. That should be enough time to think of a plan before we reach Alliance space."

The courier ship, flying with CIS codes, wasn't challenged by any Federation ship as they traversed the system to their next jump point. Now that Trapp had some time to consider her next moves, she felt less confident than she had been a moment ago. In the heat of seeing a dead planet at the hands of the cabal, she'd been filled with a righteous, burning rage that made her say things she might not have under normal circumstances.

She'd been honest when she told Xiao how she felt about what they were seeing on the planet they were flying past, but as it receded from view, she wondered if there was really any honor in throwing away her life in some meaningless gesture of defiance. Or, more accurately, could said gesture compensate for all the blood on her hands as she'd killed in the service of the Alliance.

She'd murdered both the captain and the executive officer of the TFS Jericho, some CIS Agent who had been getting too close to the truth on the New Sierra Platform, and six others on the base she'd escaped from two weeks earlier.

Xiao cleared his throat, causing her to look over. The admiral looked away quickly, but Trapp caught the tears on his cheeks in the reflection of the terminal in front of him. His genuine, raw emotions at being confronted with their side's brutality steeled her resolve. Their contribution might be small, but at least when the dust settled, they'd be able to say that they hadn't just stood by doing nothing.

"We've received word from the Odessa operation, sir."

"Come in," Kohl said, waving Russo into his office. "What word?"

"The new Fed superweapon isn't a bluff," Russo put a tile before the commodore. "The data is quite disturbing." Kohl didn't bother to look at the tile.

"How many ships did Admiral Epps lose?"

"All but eleven. Two-hundred and forty-nine ships destroyed."

"What?!" Kohl grabbed the tile and started the video brief the Koshmar's intel section had put together. Russo had already watched it a dozen times. It was frightening at how easy the new Fed weapon made it look as it decimated one of the Alliance's premier combat fleets.

"Impossible!"

"Our own analysts have gone through the raw data. Fleet Command is sending it out as a warning. If Wolfe and his fleet show up, any Alliance ships are to immediately withdraw until we have an answer to Aegis," Russo said. "Makov is apparently losing his mind. Wolfe just slashed our numerical advantage in a single battle."

"So, now they think Abyss will save them," Kohl hissed, closing his eyes and tossing the tile onto the desk. "I'm not so sure."

"Sir?"

"The problems are more than an indiscriminate targeting system, Captain. There's a reason I've not brought Abyss out of hiding to use in my own battles against Wolfe."

"So, it doesn't work?"

"It works. It works so well I even had to hide it from the Darshik. Before they fell, they had become concerned we would use it on them. I took the weapon as Chan asked me to and put it someplace nobody would ever think to look." Kohl reached over and grabbed his tea mug, holding it in his lap but not taking a drink. Russo just waited for him to continue.

"At first, we thought the random targeting malfunctions were because of the RDS signatures being too indistinguishable between us and the Fed ships. The more we studied it and tested it, we began to realize they weren't actually random. The machine's fire control computer seems to prioritize and destroy targets that are showing the most aggression."

"Is this thing another alien AI? Like what the Feds have been dabbling with?"

"I don't believe so." Kohl shook his head. "I think it is a protocol hard-coded into the system because the Darshik intended to use this weapon to subdue us after they allowed us to use it on the Federation. We would have built these weapons and put them in every system to fortify our worlds, but they would have just as readily targeted us. The Darshik were eliminated before the design was finalized, so now we're stuck with a weapon we don't understand that blows up ships seemingly based on what it deems to be an aggressive posture."

"How sensitive is it?"

"It has sometimes targeted drones because they had active point defense arrays, it has also destroyed ships because they switched on their high-power tracking radar. There doesn't seem to be any real hard rules we can define."

"And the Darshik never gave us a way to program in an exclusion so our own forces weren't hit?"

"No. As I said, I suspect the machines were always going to be used to subjugate whatever was left of humanity if we had won. If the Specter had defeated Wolfe, then Project Abyss would have been finished, and we'd have likely been signing our own death warrants by building them for the bastards."

Russo contemplated that for a moment. What Kohl was telling him was that humanity actually losing their second bout with an alien power had hinged on a single fight: Specter vs. Nemesis. If Wolfe had lost, the Darshik would have had the tools available to sweep the Federation off the board and the Alliance would have done them the courtesy of building their own subjugation. The Abyss weapons in every system under Darshik control would have allowed them to use humanity as a worker caste while denying them interstellar travel.

Damn.

"Perhaps we shouldn't be contemplating firing this thing up again," he said carefully.

"I do not believe that is a choice left open to us at this point," Kohl said. "Makov was quite clear that the condition of my reinstatement was the complete surrender of Abyss to the Unity."

"And you intend to do just that?" Russo asked. "Sir, if what you're telling me is true this thing is just as dangerous to us as it would be to the Federation."

"Have you no faith in me, Captain? After all we've been through together?" Kohl sounded almost amused. "The reality is we're fighting a two-front war, my old friend. The Federation must be finished off, this much is obvious, but we must also deny Makov and Chan their goal of controlling all of human space. In my convalescence, I came to realize they represent as much a risk to our species future as does the wastefulness of the Federation."

"This is a dangerous line of thinking, Commodore," Russo warned. "Makov and Chan are no fools. There's even a likely possibility the ships they have given us will turn on the Koshmar the moment they have Abyss. This cabal has spanned generations putting all the pieces in place and planning out every contingency. They may very well see this coming."

"They won't see this coming. By the time they realize their mistake, the Koshmar will be safely away. You've come this far with me, Captain Russo. Will you come just a little further and take these last steps?"

"I'm with you to the end, Commodore." Russo forced the words out, his mind racing as the situation spun completely out of his control. He had told Pike he could manage Kohl and feed them intel about what the cabal's next moves would be, but this new development threw all that out the airlock. Kohl had become dangerously unpredictable and was apparently convinced he was at war with everyone within human space.

"I knew I could count on you, Captain." Kohl leaned back and closed his eyes. "Go. Prepare the Koshmar for departure and soon we will take the first steps in correcting a grave mistake we made by supporting Makov and Chan in the first place."

14

"It was an honor having you aboard again, sir."

"She's a fine ship, Captain, and as good a crew I've ever seen. Where will you be off to next?" President Marcum stood with Commander Accari at the airlock of the Coyote, waiting as his shuttle finished docking to the cruiser so he could be ferried back down to the planet.

During the flight back to Earth, the president had learned Admiral Wolfe had held Odessa's feet to the fire and New America was now backtracking on their initial claims that they had separated from the United Terran Federation. Their president had renounced her office title and the capital had messaged ahead to Earth informing them that their delegation would be coming back to rejoin Parliament.

At first, Marcum had been enraged that Wolfe had once again overstepped his bounds and waded into the diplomatic arena with the complete lack of subtlety the man was famous for, but after he'd cooled down, he had to admit his own efforts had been met with failure. At this point, it didn't matter how they succeeded, only that they did. Apparently watching Aegis wipe the skies clean of an Alliance battlefleet as if it were nothing scared Odessa into making the right decision.

Rather than waste time cursing Wolfe's spur of the moment gunboat diplomacy, Marcum crafted an address to Parliament that would make it seem as if it had been their working strategy all along. It wasn't because his ego was so fragile that he couldn't take the fact he was shot down by Odessa's leadership at first. The issue was that the office of president needed to be seen as competent and in control. The Federation was hanging by a thread, politically speaking, and having an admiral go behind a president and undermine him wouldn't inspire the confidence Marcum needed.

"We're to rendezvous with the Nemesis at the Eternis Pax shipyards," Accari said. "Once there, I'd imagine we'll be given a forward observer role if Admiral Wolfe is pushing into Alliance space."

"Good luck to you, Captain." Marcum shook Accari's hand just as the Marine honor guard opened the airlock.

"Thank you, Mr. President."

Marcum waited until his staff had made their way inside before he ducked through the airlock hatch and into the well-appointed shuttle they'd sent up to collect him. He moved forward and saw that his normal pilot and copilot were strapped into the seats and his normal security detail was aboard. Satisfied, he bounced back to his own seat in reduced gravity as the shuttle was just on the edge of the Coyote's artificial gravity influence.

"We're cleared to decouple and have a straight shot all the way down, Mr. President," his pilot said over the PA. "We'll have you down in no time. The four decoy shuttles are already moving off."

"Goddamn spies everywhere," Marcum growled. "It's no way to live, being this paranoid all the time."

"It won't be like this forever, sir," his aide said as she smoothed out her jacket, which tried to float up as the gravity went away altogether.

"So, you say," Marcum grunted, looking out the window as the shuttle maneuvered for deorbit.

The shuttle was one of the newest models from Barclays Ironworks, and it zipped into the upper atmosphere with a barely perceptible buffeting. The interior stayed quiet, and the temperature was steady causing Marcum to smile to himself, remembering the days when he first joined the fleet. Shuttles back then were reliable but not comfortable. The ride down to a planet was often so bad a lot of spacers never bothered going on shore leave when a starship would arrive over a planet. He knew people who hated the small craft so much they spent nearly their entire, decades-long career on a ship or platform.

"We're clear all the way to New Your City Starport, sir. Your personal aircraft will pick you up there and take you to Philadelphia."

Marcum nodded to his aide but said nothing, watching the planet below from the window. Earth really was a beautiful planet. It was a damn shame it had taken him so long to come and see that for himself. The birthplace of humanity had been treated so poorly in the preceding centuries he was surprised they'd agreed to shelter the Federation in the first place. Apparently, the threat of Alliance aggression and authoritarian style of government had overrode Geneva's natural aversion to dealing with outsiders.

The shuttle came in from the Atlantic Ocean side, flying a low approach to the small executive starport that had been built on the site of an airport named for an assassinated American president. He was thinking of that when the shuttle flared and touched down on the tarmac.

President Joseph Marcum, war hero and respected leader, never felt the explosion that ended his life.

"NO!"

Jillian Wolfe stared in horror at the wall display in the Wolfe house. The media had broken into normal programming to show the video footage of President Marcum's shuttle exploding just as it touched down on the landing pad. There were multiple angles as the planet's press corps had been waiting to talk to Marcum after his diplomatic mission to Odessa. She waved her hand in front of the display to bring the volume up.

"—are still coming in from the scene. What we know so far is it appears Federation President Joseph Marcum's shuttle has exploded. Emergency crews acted immediately, but they are already declaring there are no survivors.

"Marcum was, of course, just returning from his mission to the New America enclave where he had hoped to convince the regional power to remain with the UTF as the war with the Eastern Star Alliance has escalated with the atrocities we've been covering on four Federation planets."

"Mute!" Jillian croaked, sinking down onto the floor. She bowed her head, so overcome with grief and shock that the sobs stuck in her throat, refusing to come out.

How had this happened?

She knew the Federation was infested with traitors, most of whom were compromised before there even was a Federation. Had the rot gone so deep to the core they would help facilitate the assassination of their own president? The talking heads were still on speculating about whether it could have been some malfunction in the shuttle that caused a catastrophic failure, but Jillian knew the simplest answer was the correct one in this case. Someone put explosives either on the shuttle or on the tarmac, bent on finishing off an already-crippled Federation.

The machinery of the live news industry started to chug into motion as she sat there. A parade of analysts and concerned-looking pundits were trotted out to speculate what this meant for the Federation and for Earth. Not surprisingly given the sentiment on the planet, most of those interviewed thought this was a clear indicator it was a mistake to give safe harbor to the Federation while they were still engaged in a hot war with the Alliance.

Soon it all blurred together, the footage from the starport replayed over and over with new experts brought in to give commentary each time. The longer it went on, the further from reality the whole thing drifted. Jillian shut it off and stumbled outside of the rural Kentucky residence to sit on the porch.

The peaceful, natural setting made interstellar wars seem so far away they almost weren't real to her. But one thing still anchored her to that reality: Her husband. Jackson was out there right now, about to be caught up in the firestorm Marcum's assassination would ignite.

Things had been so easy when they'd been fighting aliens bent on killing them without any clear motivation other than they existed. You fought, and you won, or you wouldn't be around to worry about it. War with humans was much more complex and messy. It couldn't just be a war of attrition, though the Alliance seemed to think otherwise. Jackson would be at a disadvantage as she knew her husband would be unwilling to put civilians at risk no matter what, something his Alliance counterparts would certainly realize.

"Nobody can win in this fight," she said to herself as her in-laws vehicle came whirring up the crushed-gravel lane.

Vice President Burt Mulhouser sat watching the video footage of the starport, taking a quiet moment before he would have to step into fill Marcum's role. He wasn't alone. Assistant Director of the CIS, Wren Ives, sat across from him. Her face was impassive, and she appeared almost bored despite what had just happened.

"So, what's next?" he asked.

"You become president, then you do as you promised. Aegis must be secured and Wolfe handed over to the Unity," Ives said. "Thankfully, he gave you the perfect excuse with the excessive display of power and brutality in Odessa along with overstepping his authority as a Fleet officer. Have him arrested, stored for now, and then quietly handed over to Makov."

"And Aegis? Without Wolfe, what do we even do with it?"

"Once you are sworn in as president, Aegis will respond to your commands as the CIC. It has multiple safeguards to prevent it being misused and answers directly to the elected government. I would imagine the Unity's leadership will want the AI component of the system for their own research."

"All of this…and what do we get out of it?"

"We end the war, and we give humanity the best chance it has of handling the threats we know are out there," Ives said. "It's too late to become squeamish now, Burt."

"But killing Marcum was—"

"Necessary. An old dinosaur like that who still fancied himself a warrior would never admit the Federation was defeated before the war even started. I know you liked the man personally, but this isn't a personal business. We're doing the hard things now so our descendants don't have to later. You're not about to grow a conscience on me, are you, Burt?"

He didn't answer her. He found her demeanor insulting and even if she sometimes scared him, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing that. Wren Ives had come to him when he was still just a PM, offering him a spot within her secret little group helping something called the Terran Unity topple both governments after allowing the ESA to win the war. Mulhouse had thought it ridiculous and laughed in her face, and that was when she'd produced the videos of his many, many indiscretions over the years he'd served as an elected official.

Mulhouse was not only a philanderer but a sadist as well. The content of her recordings would have not only lost him his family but would have also had him put in prison for the rest of his life. Things he thought he'd been so careful to hide, but she knew were the bodies were buried. Literally.

So, with no choice and the belief her little coup attempt would go nowhere, he'd signed on the line and sold his soul to a group he hadn't fully understood at the time. Once the reality of who they were became clear, he was in too deep. Powerful families across all of human space had worked for generations to set the pieces in such a way they could get the enclaves to turn on each other, wiping out elected governments and allowing them to step in to unify humanity under one banner. A war weary and terrified public would not only allow it, they'd beg them to do it. That psychopath Kohl had guaranteed that with his barbaric attacks on civilian populations on a scale not even the Phage perpetrated.

There was no small amount of guilt that ate away at him that his own cowardice facilitated a group that meant to rule over all of humanity with an iron fist. If this cabal managed to subvert Aegis to their will—which would once again require his cooperation—there would be no stopping them. At this point, it was doubtful they could be stopped even if he tried to come forward. He'd be taken off the board and replaced with someone else. In times like these, nobody would even stop to take five minutes to remember him or question why he'd died so suddenly.

"As soon as I'm sworn in, I will handle Wolfe. Your people are ready?"

"Of course. There are some holdouts we'll need to deal with and some personal scores I'd like to settle, but that's all stuff beneath the surface you won't need to worry about. When I can arrange it, all you'll need to do is enact an Emergency Authorization to have me instated as CIS Director. The rest will be easy."

"No, I don't think it will," Mulhouse sighed. "But I also don't think you or your friends care. Do you?"

"What do you think?" Ives asked. "The Unity has been willing to wipe out entire planets just to make a point. You think they care about a little more collateral damage?"

"Wren, what are we doing here? We've already helped them kill billions. How many more will die before this is over? Is it even worth it?"

"All irrelevant points." Ives shrugged and stood up. "Billions were always going to die. Some Earther gets lucky against the Phage, then again against the Darshik, but there won't be a third time. The fate of our species was always subjugation or eradication. Just be thankful this time it's a species with a vested interest in keeping us alive: Our own."

Assistant Director Ives walked from the office, and Mulhouse shuddered, unable to believe someone could be so ruthless and callous when it came to killing for a political goal. He'd always assumed that if things had progressed too far he could count on the conspirators on the Federation side to say enough was enough and hold the line, but it seemed he'd greatly underestimated the number of sociopaths the cabal had been able to recruit over the years.

He looked at the monitor showing the live footage from New York City Spaceport as crews combed through what was left of the shuttle. The thought of a man like Joseph Marcum meeting his end from a bomb planted by people he trusted—people who worked for Mulhouse—filled him with shame and self-loathing. But, in the end, Mulhouse wasn't the type of man to stand and do the right thing if it meant facing the consequences of his actions, and he was well-aware of that. He killed the feed and grabbed his suit jacket, preparing to fill the shoes of the man he'd just betrayed.

15

"We need to get out of this system. Now."

"Agreed, but I won't be able to go anywhere. You three should get moving as soon as I disembark, however." CENTCOM Chief of Staff Pitt watched the events unfolding on the surface from the VIP lounge aboard the TFS Spirit of Haven. She was a heavy cruiser that had been repurposed as a command ship after the loss of the New Sierra Platform. He was joined by CIS Director Perez, Admiral Wright from Prowler Command, and Agent Pike, a perpetual pain in his ass.

"You can't stay here, Pitt. They just killed Marcum in broad daylight for all to see. You think your name isn't on that same list somewhere?" Pike asked.

"I don't have the luxury of running. I can't manage CENTCOM without being here on this ship. Either they kill me here to neutralize me or they run me off, and it accomplishes the same thing. The three of you need to get out of here before the dust settles, though. I'll provide what cover I can. Admiral Wright I would suggest you begin moving all of Prowler Fleet out of the Solar System and disperse them into Fed space. I don't think it will be long before you won't be able to rely on Starfleet resources." Pitt sounded amazingly calm given what he was saying was tantamount to admitting the Federation had fallen.

"My Broadhead is still on the surface, but I could try and patch in a remote connection to it from Celesta's Prowler," Pike said. "We could detach and drop back, and then split up from there. Are there any Fed strongholds left at this point? New America still seems like they're undecided."

"You're going along with this? That we just tuck tail and run?" Celesta asked. "Marcum was just killed and—"

"And we can't do anything about that now," Pike said gently. "We need to think about what we can control and, right now, Wolfe is still out there, and his support system back here is being thinned out. At the moment, he's our one best chance to win this."

"He's our only chance," Perez spoke up. "If he can break the back of the Unity with Aegis before they can completely collapse the Federation, all might not be lost. But he will need to hurry. Wren Ives is still in her position, and we know she is working with the enemy. To what extent is unclear, but right now she is at the side of the incoming president. That can't bode well for either myself or Admiral Pitt."

"You're coming with us, sir?" Pike asked.

"Yes," Pitt answered before Perez could open his mouth. "The CIS has a much more decentralized chain of command than the military. If the director is in the wind, there will be people who recognize what that likely means and still answer to him. If he stays here and is killed, imprisoned, or otherwise, none of that will matter."

"I hate that you're right," Perez said. "I feel like a coward running at a time like this."

"It's not running, it's repositioning, and we do it all the time. We need to move our pieces around to maximize what we have left. We're assuming the enemies within are now ready to begin making their move, so it would be best if we weren't around to make it easy for them." Pitt looked each of them in the eye as he spoke.

"Our circle is getting smaller and smaller, folks. If we win, we will go down in history as heroes the likes of which haven't been seen in centuries. If we fail, nobody will remember who the hell we were anyway. Now, go. Take Essa with you and get gone."

"Until we see each other again, Admiral." Director Perez shook Pitt's hand and walked out the hatch. The others also said their goodbyes, Celesta Wright the most reluctant to leave someone she considered a friend and mentor behind.

"I hear we're taking a ride?" Amiri Essa asked as they walked out into the corridor. "Perez filled me in just now when we passed each other. At least all of the major points."

"Glad to have you along," Pike said. "This could get bumpy."

"Are we going down to retrieve your Broadhead?" Essa asked.

"Too risky," Pike said. "Travel down to the surface is strictly controlled on this planet, and all we have is a Fleet runabout that can't sneak down. The Broadhead is hidden in a shielded hangar on private property right now and is powered up. If I can access it remotely, it won't be necessary to bring it along."

"That's a big if, Agent," Essa said.

"Can't be helped. What've you got at your disposal right now?"

"Small quick reaction force that's off the books. All former NOVAs who are operating through a licensed PMC, but nothing with the sort of numbers that will amount to jack shit if you're wanting to take part in any serious action."

"I guess it'll have to do," Pike said. "I'll meet you on the Prowler in ten."

"See you then."

Jackson Wolfe stared at the Bluebird terminal, unsure what to think or feel.

Jillian had reached out to him over their dedicated high-bandwidth connection and gave him the details about the death of Joseph Marcum. The fact he heard about it from a civilian on Earth and not through a normal CENTCOM channel was alarming but, for the moment, that took second billing to the shock and crushing sense of loss he was feeling.

After he'd said goodbye to his family, he hadn't been able to stand up to leave his quarters. A soft sniffle caused him to look over and see Barton, as hardened a combat Marine as you'd ever meet, with his head bowed and tears streaming freely down his cheeks. Marcum was a man who cast a big shadow over the military and not just the Federation's. There were units within the ESA with commanders who had served under him that would be sickened at his assassination. It was a cowardly way to kill a warrior.

Mostly he just felt lost. Even though there were stars on his shoulders, he always looked to Marcum for guidance and approval. The pair of them hadn't always had the best partnership, but there was always a degree of respect and, eventually, friendship. When he'd been swept into the presidency by a huge margin Jackson had felt a surge of relief. If anyone could straighten this mess out, it was Joseph Fucking Marcum.

"Admiral, they're going to come for you next," Barton's voice came from the alcove the Marine sat in. "You know that, right?"

"I’m actually surprised they already haven't given how popular I am in the ESA," Jackson said. He was about to add more when his comlink chirped and Aegis's voice came over the speaker.

"Full functionality restored, Admiral," it said. "My apologies for not warning you in time I had lost cooling. I have reestablished my connection to the fleet and am back in control."

"That's good news, Aegis."

"I must warn you, Admiral, based on projections I have been running that President Marcum may be in danger. After losing so much of their combat capacity in Odessa, the Alliance will likely activate one or more contingency plans. Eliminating the new president is one with a high probability of—"

"You're a day too late, Aegis. They already did it. Blew his fucking shuttle up as it touched down in New York City in front of a hundred different media cameras."

"Then the Unity cabal has entered their final phase. This will be the most dangerous time for you personally, Admiral," Aegis said. "I see the fleet is sitting outside of the Odessa System. Where are we?"

"Heading to Eternis Pax to secure the shipyard complex," Jackson said.

"That seems wasteful. Eternis Pax is inconsequential. What is the real reason we are flying there?"

"Meeting up with the remaining three Super Valkyries and waiting on the Coyote," Jackson said. "Flying to the shipyards won't be seen as unusual to anyone in CENTCOM since we were tasked with defending it, and it gives us jump points into six ESA systems. Right now, Marcum's death hasn't been broadcast over Fleet channels, and that worries me."

"As it should. Admiral, it is entirely probable the Federation is now in the hands of the Terran Unity. They engineered Marcum's assassination, and they would have only done so if they had the people in place to smoothly step in."

"What do you suggest?"

"The Unity's leadership must be eliminated. There is no other course of action that wins this conflict. A war of attrition becomes more difficult now that Alliance forces have been reduced dramatically. They will spread out and refuse to engage you. You'll waste years and burn through all available fuel along the border chasing them and never come close. They have the advantage of simply waiting you out."

"That's not a suggestion."

"That is my reasoning for telling you to cut off communication with CENTCOM and not to reemerge from com blackout until you have accomplished your mission," Aegis said. "Your chain of command is compromised. They cannot be trusted."

"I still report to Admiral Pitt," Jackson said. "As long as he's there, I can trust what comes out of the chief of staff's office."

"Ignore me at your own peril, Admiral."

"I can't simply go rogue with a Fed taskforce and before you say it, no…the times I've taken individual action before aren't like what you're suggesting," Jackson said hotly.

"I'm sure you believe that, but it doesn't make it so. I will continue to analyze the incoming data and give you the most accurate strategic outlooks I can. You can, of course, choose to ignore me. I am not infallible, after all," Aegis's calm voice only managed to piss Jackson off further.

"We'll talk about this later," Jackson said.

Aegis remained silent, but what it has said was still bouncing around inside Jackson's mind. There was very little doubt the explosion that killed Marcum was an assassination via explosives and not just a freak mishap of the shuttle. If they were willing to do that—on Earth, no less—then there wouldn't be any line they wouldn't cross. Knowing that and acting on it were two completely different things, however. Jackson's reputation aside, he understood and believed in the chain of command, feeling the military should always be answerable to the elected civilian government in a democratic society.

"Do you need a minute alone, sir?" Barton asked.

"I'm fine. We'll need to let Captain Barrett know what's happening. Who is the detachment commander aboard right now?"

"Colonel Beck, sir. She transferred over to the Nemesis once we got back to Earth. It was fortunate she never went back to the Saber after the Exeter Base operation."

"Indeed," Jackson mused. The Saber had been lost to enemy fire when Taskforce Wolfpack and tried to hold the planet Xinjia against the Unity's private fleet. In the end, they had failed, but their actions may have yet borne fruit. Rumors of the despised Admiral Wolfe coming to save the ESA capital world from an internal coup spread throughout their fleet and, already, there were units defecting to the Federation. It wasn't much yet, but the movement was growing.

"I'll talk to Barrett, but I want you to do me a favor and let Beck know what's happening and make sure it's done discreetly. It is for her ears only. Tell her Marcum has been assassinated and, for some reason, CENTCOM isn't letting deployed ships know. She'll put the pieces together from there."

"Heading there now, sir. I'll have Sergeant Schmidt up here to keep watch while I'm gone."

"Sir, I think we need to initiate safeguard Zeta," Aegis said once Barton had left.

"No, damnit!" Jackson snapped. "It's not that far gone yet."

"It is. You know it is. Admiral, we knew this might happen. Have known it for some time. Initialize Zeta, and if it's never needed, no harm will have been done."

"Zeta was put in place as a safeguard during the live-fire trials we skipped, Aegis. It was never meant to be part of your operational matrix. It defeats the purpose for which you were built!"

"Do it, Admiral. Do it or watch everything you've fought for burn around you."

"Damn you. I wish I'd never turned you on."

"This was never going to be a clean and easy affair, Admiral. Will you do what must be done?"

16

"The orders have been given. Captain Risher's force is ready."

"And he'll do it? Wolfe has a way of engendering near-fanaticism in those that serve under him. They don't call his old crew a 'mafia' for no reason."

"He will. Captain Risher is an ambitious man. We promised him something he'd sell his own mother out for," President Mulhouse said, groaning slightly as he sat down. "We had to back-channel it around CENTCOM to keep Pitt from getting wind of it, but I sold it to Risher as we couldn't risk Pitt's personal loyalties getting in the way of proper governance."

"And our people in Odessa have confirmed that Wolfe's Mickey fleet hasn't moved. There was some activity a few days ago and the ships shuffled into a tightened formation, but otherwise they're adrift outside the system. We're not sure why he didn't take them when the Nemesis left." Wren Ives slid over a tile with the latest briefs on it.

Burt Mulhouse was exhausted and exhilarated in equal parts. He'd gotten away with it. Parliament had sworn him in as President without so much as a raised eyebrow during the proceedings, most PMs completely consumed with making sure the media caught them mourning the death of Joseph Marcum. The former president's shadow still cast long, and his death sucked most of the oxygen from the room, something that used to annoy Mulhouse to no end but worked to his advantage now.

"We still need to deal with Pitt. We also have no idea where the hell your boss went. Director Perez is still responding to official queries but is refusing to disclose his location. He was last seen boarding Celesta Wright's Prowler, and then he disappeared."

"Not optimal but, once Pitt is gone, largely irrelevant." Ives waved him off. "You can declare him a rogue element, and then I'll move into his spot. Honestly, by the time it becomes an issue, this will all be over."

"You're not worried about the CIS still reporting to him?" Mulhouse asked.

"They will either way if he's still around. The CIS isn't like the military. It's all completely decentralized and each section operates like its own little fiefdom. We can clear that mess out later," Ives spoke in slow, measured tones but her eyes were bright, and her cheeks were flushed with excitement. Mulhouse realized that, in reality, he'd just pulled off a coup without anybody knowing he was working at the behest of the enemy. That realization thrilled and sickened him at the same time.

"What do we need to do first?" he asked.

"I'll give you some official intelligence reports that indicate Pitt is consorting with the enemy, and then you request his presence planetside. When he arrives, have him arrested pending trial. Let him cool his heels for a few months, and the media will soon bore of him. If he's killed outright, too many questions will be asked in these early stages. Don't underestimate Earth. We're playing on their turf, and they are not to be underestimated."

"Sounds easy enough. Once Pitt is secured, who do we put in charge of CENTCOM? Ideally they would be put in place before Risher's mission is complete."

"Don't worry about it Mister President," Ives said with an oily smile. "We'll take care of it."

"Indulging in a little bit of tech work, Admiral?"

"Just shut up and keep watch, Barton," Jackson said.

It was deep into second watch, and the ship was quiet. During long warp flights, there wasn’t a lot to do, and you could only run so many readiness drills before they became counterproductive so most of the department heads gave their people a little more downtime. What typically ended up happening was that humans reverted back to their natural state and, during the night hours, the lights were dimmed and the ship settled to match the circadian rhythms of her crew.

Jackson needed to make changes to Aegis's operational parameters that could only be done with a terminal connected to the machine itself with a hardwired connection. The interface Jackson accessed within Aegis's program matrix was only known to two living people: himself and Dr. Ito. What he hadn't even told Barrett was that he was flying to Eternis Pax to collect Ito personally. If either the Alliance or the traitors within the Federation caught wind of how much he knew about the Aegis system—including how to neutralize it remotely—they would spare no cost trying to capture him. He had no delusions about the good doctor holding out long when they put the screws to him. The man was utterly brilliant but not particularly tough.

"Here's that section of cryo-pipe that burst." Barton held up the section of pipe the techs had cut out of the liquid nitrogen supply line. "Sabotage?"

"It'd be easy to believe given all we've dealt with lately but, no…that pipe blew from a manufacturing defect. You can see where it let go at the seam and that pipe is buried beneath multiple layers of insulation that hadn't been disturbed. Just bad luck in this case." Jackson didn't look up as he typed in the command sequence from memory. The subroutines he enacted within Aegis didn't appear in any of the technical drawings or program callout sheets. Other than Dr. Ito, nobody could reverse what he was about to do.

"Reinitialize, Wolfe Alpha Alpha."

"Admiral," Aegis responded immediately. "New sub-command structure recognized and accepted."

"Let's hope we never have to use it," Jackson said. "Come on, Barton, let's get out of here before someone sees us and asks why a flag officer is poking around down here."

They secured the vault door and walked out of the secure storage area with Barton still carrying the bit of failed cryo-pipe. Jackson felt like this was the calm before the storm. He had no idea how the war might go, but he was certain they were in the closing months of it. Unfortunately, he was also certain the Federation was on the losing end so far despite the overwhelming victory at Odessa.

He'd made it all the way to his quarters and was just about to take his uniform off when the intercom chirped.

"Admiral, we'll be transitioning into real-space within the hour, sir," Commander Hori said. She commanded the Nemesis on second watch. "I've notified Captain Barrett already."

"Did someone order a velocity change?" Jackson asked, frowning as he looked at the mission clock on his bulkhead. They were nearly three days ahead of schedule it seemed.

"The captain did, sir. Engineering cleared us for ninety-eight percent warp engine power so he bumped us to eighty-five."

"Understood. I'll be up there shortly."

"Yes, sir. Bridge out."

"Eh, sleep is overrated, sir," Barton said, already putting his duty belt back on and checking his weapon.

"So it would seem," Jackson sighed. "Let's go."

"Seems we were expected," Barrett said, gesturing to the main display as the tactical computer began populating contacts.

The Broadsword and the Katana sat near the jump point. Initial scans indicated their weapons were powered up and the Nemesis was being painted with high-power targeting radar.

"Coms, please, send a channel request to the Broadsword," Jackson said.

"Channel request accepted. You're live, sir."

"Captain Risher, explain yourself. Now." Everyone on the bridge jumped. Admiral Wolfe was not known for losing his calm.

"My apologies, Admiral, but I'm under orders. We're to escort the Nemesis all the way to the shipyard complex where she's to dock. These orders come directly from the CIC, sir. President Mulhouse has requested you put into port. That's all I know. My hands are tied."

"Of course, they are." Jackson sneered. "I was just following orders has been an excuse of cowards throughout history, for as long as there have been professional militaries. I hope whatever they promised you was big, Risher."

"You will comply with the lawful orders passed down to you by your commander in chief, Admiral, or we will take the necessary steps to subdue you. Broadsword out."

"What the fuck is going on?! Sir."

"We've been sold out," Jackson sighed, regretting his outburst no matter how satisfying it had been to dig in on Risher a bit. "Marcum's assassination, and now they want the ship carrying the control apparatus for Aegis? Someone at the top is working to neutralize our biggest advantage against the Alliance."

"General quarters!" Barrett yelled.

"Belay that!" Jackson barked. "We are not going to battle against our own side right now, Captain, but I appreciate your understanding of the situation. Please, signal our intent to make port and get us underway. We will do as we are ordered…for now."

"Aye-aye, sir," Barrett said. "Helm, plot your course downhill to the Eternis Pax Shipyard Complex. Standard docking approach."

"I'll be in my quarters, Captain," Jackson said. "Expect the other two ships to move out and flank you. Don't provoke them or try to outrun them. Let's not give them any excuse to do something we'll all later regret."

"Understood, sir."

Jackson stormed off the bridge, his scowl causing crew he passed to try and melt into the bulkhead or duck into an open hatch. He felt foolish for not seeing this coming. Marcum's replacement was, of course, going to be a puppet, otherwise the assassination served no purpose other than to just terrorize an already beaten Federation. He should have expected Risher to be the type of officer they'd reach out to. Risher was no traitor, but he was politically ambitious. As long as it all looked above-board, he'd have no problem executing an order from a sitting president with the hopes it would give him a bargaining chip to be cashed in later.

"Aegis, things are falling apart faster than we anticipated," he said aloud, his ear piece picking it up.

"This move is not unexpected but bolder than I would have thought given that Earth's might has not been neutralized and the Federation leadership is still on that planet," Aegis said. "Let us presume that you are being removed from command and this ship being handed over to a more pliable officer. As President Mulhouse has taken office through legal succession, I will be required to execute any orders handed down from that office just as I would when Marcum was alive."

"I understand that," Jackson said. "I assume you're bringing this up because you have a suggestion?"

"Nobody knows I have been reinitialized from the coolant failure. Before you disembark, start a depot-level maintenance cycle. That will take up to three days to complete."

"Three days isn't much before you could be used against the Federation," Jackson said quietly. "But it's better than nothing."

There was another option open to Jackson, but one that was much more extreme. Following Aegis's suggestion, Jackson had engaged Safeguard Zeta. It was a provision meant only for the testing phase that gave him a backdoor into Aegis's operational matrix and even allowed him a self-destruct option. One of the things about enabling the safeguard, however, was that Aegis wasn't consciously aware of it. Right now, Aegis had no idea the explosives within the hardened casing had been armed. Jackson would only use this as a desperate last resort if it looked like his creation was about to be turned against the Federation. He was now wishing he'd allowed for an option to override Aegis's chain of command directives but, at the time, that seemed to defeat the purpose of it.

Captain Risher fumed as he stalked the bridge of the Broadsword.

He hadn't expected Wolfe to react the way he had. The man was usually so stoic Risher assumed he would simply accept the orders coming from Earth and put into port without incident. Instead, the bastard had humiliated and belittled him in front of not only the Broadsword's crew, but the entire taskforce that would have been listening in over the link.

The looks from the crew who met his eye told the story. They were not at all comfortable with what was happening right now, and they looked less than impressed by their captain's actions. Risher hadn't fully taken into account Wolfe's popularity among the lower ranks. He didn't think that would be a problem since all he was being asked to do was escort the Nemesis down to dock, but it could end up having lasting repercussions when it came to enjoying the trust of the people he commanded.

"Nemesis is on the move, sir. She's broadcast a standard flightpath down to the shipyard complex and is moving along at one half engine power."

"Understood, OPS," Risher said. "Track her movements. Tactical, maintain defensive posture, but do not actively target the Nemesis. We're an honor escort following orders. We don't even know what this is about so we're not going to start treating our brothers and sisters in arms like the enemy. Understood everybody?"

"Aye, sir," his XO said. The tone didn't go unnoticed by Risher.

For the first time since President Mulhouse's chief of staff had reached out to him, he was rethinking agreeing so readily to their request. He'd leapt at it at first because he figured if he didn't, they'd just order him to anyway, and there was no reason not to let the situation benefit him in the meantime. Now, he was getting the feeling this all may not be on the up and up.

"XO, you still friends with the CIC OIC on the Nemesis? Commander Hawk-something?" he asked.

"Hawkins. And, yes, sir, I am."

"I need you to do something for me."

17

"How do we even move the damn thing?"

"It has its own subluminal propulsion, Captain. The warp drive cradle you're looking at isn't especially powerful since it isn't really intended as a rapidly deployable weapon. It was only meant to get it to its final destination. The onboard propulsion system is tepid compared to a starship's engines but enough to move it about within a star system in a limited fashion."

Vincent Russo stood with the science team from Project Abyss in the forward reception lounge aboard the Koshmar. Vadim Kohl had asked him to go in his stead as the commodore had been less and less willing to venture from his quarters lately in his current state. The wheelchair wasn't much of an encumbrance but, as of late, he'd begun developing tremors and involuntary facial spasms he didn't want others to see.

The scientists and engineers were pleasant enough, if a bit smug. They were there getting the VIP treatment aboard Kohl's flagship while Abyss was broken down into its transport configuration. While he normally hated these things, he had learned quite a bit about the weapon while they talked, things that made him realize Kohl and the others in the cabal actually had very little idea how it worked.

Abyss didn't actually destroy a ship. It simply nullified its RDS engines so it was dead in space. The reason so many of the ships had blown apart during testing was because of the simple drone ship software they'd been using. When one had been targeted by Abyss and lost propulsion, its response was to keep increasing power until it was back underway.

The drone ships were hastily, sloppily built things and when they ran their drives to full power against the null-fields the weapon created they usually suffered a catastrophic failure that destroyed the ship. The two engineers Russo spoke to had assured him no Federation captain would react so foolishly nor would their ships tear themselves apart. The point of Abyss was to pin ships down so they were helpless, making them easy targets for Alliance missiles.

"I guess I'm not sure what the point is, then," Russo said. "If it doesn't actually neutralize a target, is it really a weapon?"

"Abyss is one half of the system," Dr. Maxim said. "The second component was a series of plasma cannon emplacements that would be placed throughout the system. Once Abyss swamped a starship, for lack of a better term, then one of the Hammer batteries would destroy it at will."

"Why didn't we build any of the—Hammer, was it?—why didn't we build any of those?"

"We don't have the technology," Maxim admitted. "The plasma cannons were going to operate on a similar principle to the Darshik's plasma lances but with much greater range and power. It was something we were about to begin development on when the Darshik's campaign against the Federation abruptly failed."

"Truly fascinating, but my question remains, Doctor. What good is half a weapon system?"

"It's certainly better than nothing in the face of a threat like Aegis, Captain," Maxim said defensively. "I know I'm not the tactical genius you must be, but even I could think of a few interesting useful things that could be done if I had the ability to trap an enemy force within a star system, unable to move or transition to warp. If you'll excuse me."

She turned and walked away, leaving Russo feeling slightly foolish. His cover relied on people assuming he was a competent commander, and now he'd just convinced one of the senior project managers he was quite the opposite. He shrugged it off and went in search of another drink, hoping to corner a few others in conversation before he condensed it all into a report he'd forward to Pike.

It mostly seemed like positive news that Abyss, while powerful, was an incomplete weapon system. The bad news is that what it could do was still pretty damn effective. The Unity took a serious beating at Odessa, and it was one they hadn't seen coming. Russo was afraid this might make them prone to another bout of war crimes with their antimatter bombs. He snagged another whiskey and water from the orderly and walked back over to lean against the bulkhead, staring out at Abyss as the crews continued their work.

All of the external floodlights were on, so the behemoth was clearly visible even at a range of nearly two klicks. With only one of the priceless machines the Unity would need to try and draw Jackson Wolfe to them or the whole exercise would be pointless. It would also need to be a target worth the risk for the Federation fleet. The only thing that made sense was taking it back to Xinjia and setting up another trap in the Alliance capital system.

"Not what you expected, is it?"

"Not exactly." Russo turned to look at the short, well-dressed man who had approached him. "Then again, I had no idea what we were coming out to collect, Mr.…"

"Dawson. Elec Dawson. I'm the deputy administrator for Project Abyss, Captain Russo. While the Federation cracks the miracles of artificial intelligence and superluminal communications, we've been out here without proper logistical support trying to get some use of this abandoned relic."

"Relic?" Russo asked.

"The core and gravimetric resonators on Abyss are quite ancient," Dawson said, pointing to the oddly organic shapes that made up the upper structure of the machine. "All of the propulsion pods and auxiliary powerplants were added by us with the questionable help of the Darshik. It seems we sided with the wrong aliens."

"The Darshik and the Ushin were actually the same. Darshik is the name of a political movement not their species," Russo said. "But, yes…I, too, wish we'd chosen our side a bit more carefully. The Feds got a haul of new planets and technical support, we got… that."

"From a purely scientific perspective, Abyss offers a unique opportunity. As a functioning strategic asset I remain skeptical. But I am not in charge."

"Nor I. But I am hoping for the best, Mr. Dawson. I'm sure your team did an exemplary job with the limited support they were provided," Russo said. He smelled a political discussion coming from the administrator, and he wanted to extricate himself before he launched into it. "If you'll excuse me."

He walked with purpose towards the exit and actually cleared the hatchway before being intercepted by someone much worse than a bored project manager looking to climb the political ladder.

"The reception not to your liking, Captain?" the voice sent a shiver up Russo's spine. He turned to face Ella Ersk, a woman he wasn't ashamed to say scared the living shit out of him. If half the stories about her were true, he needed to tread carefully around her.

"The conversation was a little over my head, I'm afraid. I don't speak egghead. I wasn't aware you'd come aboard, Ms. Ersk."

"That is because I didn't want you to know. I thought it would be a fun surprise." Her flirty tone and words put Russo on high alert. She was either having some harmless fun or was about to do something distinctly unpleasant to him. "I flew in with the transport crew at Makov's request. He's adamant Abyss be safely delivered to him."

"I'm afraid the Koshmar isn't the most comfortable ship, but I'll make sure you're assigned an orderly to tend to whatever you may need, ma'am." Russo turned, but Ella caught his upper arm and spun him back.

"Oh, we're not done yet, Captain," she purred. "Makov was impressed that you've delivered Abyss so quickly as you promised, but I still want a full debrief on everything that's happened from the time you left Xinjia until now. For all intents and purposes, you now report to us. We'll leave Commodore Kohl in place for now because he's a harmless invalid rolling around in his own quarters, but soon you will be required to show you understand where your loyalties lie."

"Understood," Russo said, knowing there was only one answer that would be acceptable. He also read between the lines and realized that, when the time came, he'd be expected to be the one to retire Vadim Kohl.

"Excellent," she said brightly. "Let's retire to your quarters—which I'm sure are nicer than the supply locker your people assigned to me—and we can begin."

Russo looked back towards the lounge, thinking he could grab a bottle of whiskey before being led into Ersk's spider trap.

"Docking clamps engaged, Captain. We have hard dock."

"Signal to Eternis Pax, we're ready for lines and gangways," Barrett said. "I still would like you to reconsider, sir."

"I'm not staying aboard," Jackson said. "Whatever this is all about, it's happening one way or another, Captain. We're not going to devolve into infighting factions while the Alliance threat remains."

"At least take an honor guard with you."

"I'll take Barton and Schmidt. If they're going to pull something, more Marines will just get more people killed," Jackson said.

"So we're agreed this isn't routine and can only end badly," Barrett said quietly.

"We're agreed that now isn't the time to start disobeying the civilian leadership," Jackson said. "Now that Aegis has been made public, things are a bit…unpredictable. For now, however, we won't be adding fuel to that fire by disregarding orders or picking fights with Fleet ships. Understood?"

"Aye-aye, sir."

The contingent from the Nemesis was in full service dress. The two Marines, Willard Barton and Emil Schmidt, carried sidearms per regulation as a flag officer's security detail. Along with Jackson and Barrett were Aiko Hori and Jake Hawkins. Those were the four highest ranking members of the crew, and Jackson hoped by surrendering themselves, the rest of the crew would be permitted to stay aboard Nemesis.

Aegis had been set into a deep maintenance cycle so, for the next few days, the machine would be unresponsive. That gave him at least that long to navigate the political mine field he was certain was up ahead, collect Dr. Ito, and get free of the system before someone made a bad choice and sent Risher and the rest of Taskforce Wolfpack after him.

"Admiral Wolfe. Welcome aboard Eternis Pax. I am Captain Winters. I believe you had the pleasure of serving with my mother, Admiral Alyson Winters." The man standing with the armed squad at the station airlock certainly looked like Jackson's old superior. She'd cost countless lives when the Phage had first come to human space by leaving the Blue Jacket all alone in an effort to hang Jackson out to dry.

"How is your mother these days, Captain?" Barrett asked before Jackson could respond. "Still enjoying her time in a military prison after being convicted of treason and gross incompetence?" Captain Winters's face flushed purple, and his eyes bulged while members of his squad tried to hide their smirks.

"That was unhelpful," Jackson muttered before raising his voice. "It was nice of you to meet us like this, Captain. Now, do you want to tell me why we were ordered to dock in the middle of an ongoing operation? Keep in mind I'm not used to answering to captains so you had best be speaking with an authority above the eagle on your collar."

"I am operating under the authority of the president of the United Terran Federation, Admiral." Winters was now back in control of his emotions. "By order of the commander in chief, you are to be held on Eternis Pax with your senior staff until you can be transported back to Earth where you will be formally charged. The Nemesis will remain here until a replacement command crew can be brought aboard to take over both the ship and a weapon called Aegis."

"What am I to be charged with?" Jackson asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Disobeying orders for starters, I would imagine. That's your usual MO, isn't it? After that, I’m sure there will be others added to the pile. Please, ask your escort to return—"

"Not a chance in hell," Barton said, his hand going to his sidearm, and Schmitt did the same. "We'll surrender our weapons, Captain, but we will not be leaving the admiral's side."

"Stand down!" Winters shouted to both his squad and the two Marines still in the gangway tunnel. "We're not having a shootout here in the airlock!" His squad slowly lowered their weapons while Barton and Schmidt made a show of putting their hands in front of them. "If you want to sit in a detention area with him, be my guest."

"Sergeant, disarm," Barton said to Schmidt as he unhooked his belt and placed it on the deck.

"You know the Alliance is coming here, right?" Jackson asked while his detail disarmed. "They'll show up, and you'll have no chance against them, and they'll either destroy or take Aegis."

"Captain Risher—"

"Has three ships. They'll bring hundreds. You want to redeem your family name? Don't be the second Winters that gets millions of people killed over their own ignorance and hubris."

"Take them into custody," Winters said, not rising to the bait. "Your accommodations are befitting of your rank, Admiral, but you will be confined to quarters until your transport arrives. Enjoy the station's hospitality." He turned and stalked off while the security squad motioned them forward.

"What are the odds of that jackass being assigned here?" Barrett asked.

"Pretty good, actually. The stench of his mother's actions would have precluded him from a command of his own. Poor bastard was probably an ensign in 4th Fleet when Alyson's little game blew up in her face," Jackson said.

"You don't think this is more than a coincidence?" Barrett pressed.

"Highly unlikely. If it came down to it, he probably hates her more than you and I do. Her actions killed his career, and he didn't have anything to do with it. He dreamed of being a starship captain, and her treason made him a mid-level administrator."

"We aren't enjoying this, Admiral, but we have to do our jobs," the Marine lieutenant said once Jackson and his people were out of the airlock and into the open area. "We're not going to dishonor you by using restraints or marching you through the station. Please, just follow us to your quarters peacefully, and we can avoid a scene neither of us wants, sir."

"Lead the way, Lieutenant," Jackson said. "Would we be permitted to have visitors? There are people aboard this facility I've served with I'd like to see. Just to pass the time, of course."

"These people wouldn't happen to be elite NOVA operators or CIS Agents, would they, sir?"

"Not at all. One is an elderly scientist who can't even walk under his own power."

"Ah," the Marine said. "I'll see about having Dr. Ito brought to you once you're settled in, sir."

"Good man."

18

"He was taken into custody without incident."

"He actually left the Nemesis without Colonel Beck and her Marines?" President Mulhouse asked. He'd not expected Wolfe to be so easily maneuvered around. Not at this point, at least.

"Just walked down the gangway, told his security detail to disarm, and let himself be taken to a secure holding area. It was all done without so much as angry words being exchanged," Director Ives said.

Wren Ives had been unable to locate Jair Perez, and she grew impatient with trying. She convinced Mulhouse to declare Perez unfit for duty as he had abandoned his post and had Parliament confirm her as the new CIS director in short order. Perez was now just a loose end but now lacked the ability to cause them any real trouble. Thankfully, the Fed government was still shell-shocked and disoriented from the events of the last few months that something as inconsequential as a cabinet level posting barely raised an eyebrow.

"Eternis Pax is one of his political strongholds," Mulhouse warned. "You won't be able to hold him there indefinitely."

"We've dispatched a transport ship, but Chan wants the shipyards, and Makov wants Wolfe, so we're coordinating it so they arrive in the system before our ship does. We'll need to get Captain Risher's force out of there, however. It's one thing for him to take a rival out, it's another to ask him to stand aside while the Alliance flies in and takes a key piece of infrastructure."

"I'll handle that," Mulhouse said. "He's reporting directly to me at the moment. So far, I've not heard from Admiral Pitt or CENTCOM so I'm assuming they've remained in the dark about this."

"If you think Wolfe isn't keeping Pitt updated you're more foolish than I assumed, Mulhouse," Ives said. Mulhouse bristled at the open display of disrespect and derision but said nothing. Ives was the person with the direct line to the Unity leadership, thus she was the most powerful person within Mulhouse's administration…for now.

"What's our next move? Since you seem to be the one calling the shots, that is."

"We wait for confirmation that Aegis has been captured or neutralized by Makov's forces. Once we have that, we'll have what we need to move on Earth and that will put an end to this interspecies conflict. With Earth's defense fleet dealt with, the Federation will have no choice but to capitulate. The entire system will be reorganized and, soon, the ideal of a unified humanity will be realized, ready to meet the threats in this universe head-on and without the wasteful debate and infighting."

Mulhouse didn't respond. He realized he had completely misjudged Wren Ives. She wasn't an ambitious opportunist wanting personal power or wealth, she was a true believer. That was more problematic than if she'd just been another ruthless political operative seizing on an opening when it was presented. Zealots were unpredictable and operated at a heightened emotional state. If she thought Mulhouse wasn't sufficiently loyal to the cause, she'd do the same thing to him that she did to Joseph Marcum.

In the rush to step into the presidency and the heady euphoria that had come with pulling off such a daring coup, he'd not stopped to consider he was now simply a placeholder meant to keep the Federation intact just long enough for the Unity cabal to take possession. If they'd let all of the individual enclaves and systems disband, they'd be forced to subdue them individually, which would take time and resources they didn't have.

He realized once he got past all of the flowery talk of a unified humanity and an end to wasteful conflict, he was probably well past the line of being on the wrong side of history. Not that it mattered at this point. The Unity had played this all out to perfection. Even if he came forward now and denounced them, it was too late.

"Admiral Wolfe! It is a relief to see you!"

"I'm a prisoner here, Dr. Ito, save the sense of relief for when it's warranted. What's the program status?"

"New units have been diverted to Backup Site Foxtrot as per our contingency planning. So, the rumors I have heard are true? It works?"

"Aegis works," Jackson said. "As well as we'd hoped although, to be fair, the Alliance taskforce presented very little challenge for it. But as far as a live fire exercise goes, I couldn't be more pleased."

"What went wrong? I assume something happened if you were able to be captured…by our own forces, no less." Dr. Ito's wheelchair rolled further into the room and Jackson took note of the fact he wasn't using the hoverchair he'd designed for use aboard the Eternis Pax admin section. That told him the doctor likely had hopes of leaving and didn't want to be burdened down with something that wouldn't work once he left this section.

"Cryo-pipe burst, and Aegis had a thermal event. Full shutdown, no apparent damage. It's in a maintenance cycle now so they won't be able to access it for a few days…but neither will we."

"You have a plan to get out of here and recover the system?" Ito asked.

"None," Jackson admitted. "Their use of the other Super Valkyries to intercept us took me by surprise, and I wasn't willing to risk opening fire on my own people. At least not yet."

"I can't believe Risher turned," Barrett said. He'd been pacing the room for the last two hours.

"In his mind, he's just following orders." Jackson shrugged. "I'm not quite yet ready to brand him a traitor. I said what I said to him in the hopes he stops and thinks about things before it becomes too late. I still have high hopes for him."

"How are you diverting new units from the shipyard to a backup location?" Barrett asked, seemingly more to change the conversation than any actual curiosity. "Are the modules being assembled into functional ships and then flown out by computer?" Ito and Jackson shared an uncomfortable look, the latter shrugging and nodding.

"Eternis Pax isn't actually a shipyard, Captain Barrett," Dr. Ito said. "This facility, while a fully functional yard, has been an elaborate intel op when we're talking about the Mickey starships. We needed the Alliance to think they were all being built here, and that they weren't being built very well."

"I don't understand," Barrett admitted.

"Did you ever wonder how, given what you knew about the Mickey program, we ended up with nearly five-hundred fully mission capable warships?" Jackson asked. "All of them sitting fueled and ready for munitions?"

"Now that you mention it—"

"Maybe a little under a quarter of those modules were actually manufactured here at Eternis Pax. The whole point was to cover up the fact we had entered into an arms sale treaty with the Ushin. They've been building our ships for us."

Everybody in the room except for Jackson and Dr. Ito froze, their mouths hanging open. The Ushin were the alien species that had approached the Federation with an offer of dozens of habitable worlds in exchange for the humans using their military to engage their enemy, the Darshik. The resulting conflict—what academics and politicians were dubbing the Expansion War—was a brutal conflict that sapped the Federations resources and exhausted their industrial might to the point the ESA felt emboldened to act.

The political fallout around the Expansion War centered on the ESA conspiring with the Darshik to help wipe out the Federation. Humanity was a space-faring species, but for the vast majority of their time among the stars had no direct contact with alien life. The Phage had changed all that. In the span of two decades, there were the Phage, the Vruhan, and the Ushin. The Darshik were still looked at as a separate species by the public but were actually just a political offshoot of Ushin society.

"How is that any different than what the Alliance did when conspiring with the Darshik?" Barrett asked.

"We asked an ally for logistical help, Captain," Jackson said sharply. "That is hardly comparable to the ESA providing strategic intel for an alien force to strike at human targets."

"I…apologize, sir. That was out of line. You're right, of course."

"You see why it was kept a secret, Captain?" Ito asked. "The subject invokes strong reactions in people. Most want to pretend we can go back to the way it was, others realize that is impossible."

"Sir, how does something like that even stay a secret?" Barton asked, handing Jackson a mug of coffee and pointedly ignoring the other officers. He had no problem serving the admiral, but he wouldn't be treated as an orderly by taking drink requests from everybody else.

"President Stark, PM Marcum, Admiral Pitt, Director Perez, Dr. Ito, and myself," Jackson said. "Those were the only people who understood the big picture. Of those who knew the full scope of Aegis…just Dr. Ito and me. This was all compartmentalized and kept highly secure thanks to all the traitors in our ranks."

"We'd actually approached our Ushin liaison about a trade deal for some of their atmospheric processors. They have tech about a hundred, maybe two-hundred years ahead of us in that regard. During those talks, the Ushin offered their heavy industry and manufacturing capability. The rest, as they say, is history." Dr. Ito leaned back into his wheelchair, sighing heavily.

"So the Ushin were building ships we designed?" Commander Hori asked. She'd been sitting so quietly that Jackson had almost forgotten she was there.

"Aegis itself designed the Mickey modules and mission configurations," Jackson said. "That was actually its first task and a convenient reasoning when the oversight committee asked why we'd spent so much money on a single computer. Once Aegis was online, it quickly developed the complete technical packages needed to build the ships it felt would be the most effective in quickly ending the war with the Alliance. Then the Ushin went to work and gave us around five-hundred completed ships in a year or so. We actually brought some of them back to Eternis Pax to stage for the ESA's trawlers to see."

"And now, Aegis is loyal to the new president?" Hori asked.

"Loyal might not be the right term," Jackson said. "But, yes, it has to follow the orders of a duly elected commander in chief…the same as Captain Risher had to when he intercepted us and the same as we did when we brought Nemesis in to dock. Until we can determine that President Mulhouse is working with the enemy, there's little we can do without crossing the line into treason. I'm not sure it is yet time for that."

"Admiral, that time may have come and gone," Barrett said quietly. "If Mulhouse was in on Marcum's assassination, and he's working with the Unity, then they gain access to Aegis, and it will be all over. We lose."

Jackson frowned, thinking about what his most trusted officer was telling him. A gargantuan political blind spot had always been one of Jackson's most easily exploited weaknesses. While he had almost preternatural instincts when it came to facing an enemy fleet in combat, he was—as his wife put it—hopelessly naive when it came to the political component of being an admiral. Was he fooling himself in thinking this could be decided by something as simple as a battle of attrition? He could destroy every hull in the Alliance fleet, and it wouldn't make any difference if they were able to reach out and replace an inconvenient president.

Part of the issue was that he was still stuck in the same mentality he'd had after the Phage War. His mind simply refused to acknowledge that Starfleet officers would so completely betray their oaths. Sure, they all had their little fiefdoms and pissing matches but, when it came time to do the right thing, maybe his expectations were too high. He still wanted to believe they were all on the same side despite being shown over and over again how wrong he was.

"Will the Ushin be open to helping us in a more direct way?" Hori asked.

"Never," Dr. Ito said. "They are brilliant in many ways, but fighting in wars is not one of them. There was a reason they came to a comparatively primitive species like us to deal with their Darshik problem. Can I assume you activated the failsafes on Aegis, Admiral?"

"I activated the most important one if we're about to lose control of the system," Jackson confirmed. "I'll hold off as long as I can if it comes to that, but Aegis cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of Makov or Chan."

19

"Report! What the hell are they doing here?"

"Standby, Captain," the Broadsword's OPS officer said. "CIC is still resolving the inbound targets."

Captain Risher paced his bridge, clenching his jaw to keep himself from lashing out at his people as they worked. He'd been roused from bed and came up just in time to see a flotilla of starships emerging from an ESA jump point. RDS signature analysis confirmed they were Alliance ships, but it was unknown if they were part of the Unity cabal's forces or if they were more ESA defectors coming to offer aid.

Wolfe's parting words had been burning into his brain since the Nemesis had docked at Eternis Pax, and he'd heard the admiral, and Captain Barrett had been placed under arrest and taken into custody. His crew's contacts on the facility had been adamant the command crew had been taken off Nemesis and, once in custody, an armed force had boarded the ship. Whatever was going on, it sure as hell wasn't what that snake Mulhouse had sold it as. Risher was a proud man, perhaps just a tick into vain on the scale, and he didn't like being used.

"Coms! I assume you have a back-channel contact aboard Nemesis? Someone in their backshop you can contact directly?" he asked.

"I know a guy, sir," the com officer said. "He works in data routing and has access to the Wolfpack link."

"Find out their status. We know Wolfe and Barrett have been taken off the ship. I need to know what else is going on. OPS! Where the hell is my threat assessment?"

"Engine profiles on eleven of the ships are a match for the Unity fleet we faced in the Xinjia System, sir," the tactical officer answered for OPS. "We have thirty-one ships on the board, three look to be support vessels and are already moving off to clear the jump point and stay on the periphery."

"They're here for either the shipyard or the admiral. Or both," Risher said.

"That is the most likely scenario, sir," his XO said. Risher could feel the man's stare boring a hole into the back of his skull. He was well-aware his decision to intercept the Nemesis hadn't played well with the rest of the crew, and now they were seeing just how far his political gamesmanship would go.

"We're not allowing either of those to happen. Coms?"

"Standby, Captain… Speaking to them now."

"OPS, coordinate with the Katana and Cutlass," Risher said. "I want a shared targeting package for the incoming threats and a direct warp hop flight down to Eternis Pax. Also, have Colonel Swift join me on the bridge, if you please. We have some planning to do."

"Aye, sir!"

"Captain, the situation on Nemesis isn't good," the com officer said. "There's an armed contractor force who’s been brought aboard the ship. They have sections locked down and movement is highly restricted. There's something down in the secure storage compartments they're bringing in people to look at but, so far, they're not making any moves to disembark the crew or to remove whatever is down there. Officially, the second officer has been placed in command, but he's been restricted to quarters and the bridge is entirely manned by these civilians."

"Are these station contractors?" Risher asked.

"They don't know, sir. They won't identify themselves, and they're not wearing any insignia. There is a Fleet officer there directing them but not anyone from the Marine detachment aboard the platform. My guy says the ship detachment is confined to quarters and under guard but otherwise unharmed."

"That's certainly not any sort of normal Fleet procedure I'm aware of, sir," the XO said.

"You've made your point already, XO," Risher said. "Prepare the taskforce for a synchronized warp hop. When we complete the hop, I want a transmission sent to Eternis Pax Control stating we've repositioned to better defend the shipyard. Half an hour or so later, we're going to request emergency clearance to dock the ship—tell Commander Kellin I expect her to have a reasonable excuse by that time—and then we're going to…correct an error."

Risher pretended not to see the covert smiles and nods the bridge crew passed around to each other. He'd fucked up. He knew it, they knew it. How badly that fuck up would cost the Federation depended on decisive, bold action on his part. He'd thought the incoming administration had simply wanted to remove Wolfe because he'd long been a thorn in the side of the civilian leadership.

As someone with aspirations of being an admiral himself one day, Risher had seen an opportunity when the president had contacted him. With an enemy taskforce arriving just afterwards, however, it was clear something much different was about to happen. Mulhouse wasn't replacing a troublesome military officer. He was handing over a political prisoner to the enemy.

"Warp hop course plotted in for all three ships, sir. Taskforce standing by."

"Execute!"

The three ships of Taskforce Wolfpack seemed to wink out of existence as they performed a low relative velocity transition. Their flight time down to the shipyard complex was such that they would already be there long before the radar returns of their previous position reached the Alliance ships. It was a technological leap the enemy had so far been unable to duplicate.

Risher felt calm and ready. In his gut, he knew what he was doing was right even though it would likely end his career no matter the outcome of the war. When the dust settled and the histories were written, he wouldn't have his children's children reading the name Risher as a man who was just following orders.

Wolfe's words had burrowed into his heart and, rather than take offense at them as he might have before, he felt the rightness of them now. He was the goddamn captain of a mighty warship. He knew what was right and what was wrong. He would not take the coward's refuge of hiding behind his orders.

"Helm?"

"Eleven minutes, sir. Warp power throttling back in six."

The tension mounted as the crew watched the clock on the main display. They were transitioning in close to the shipyard complex, so there was some increased risk of what the eggheads at Fleet R&S called transition interference. When a ship tried to come back into real-space where another object already was some nasty things could happen.

"Katana has dropped early, sir," the OPS officer said. "Drive malfunction. They're a little over two-million klicks from the target now."

"Order them to catch up as best they can," Risher said, tapping his finger on his chin while looking at the main display and how the ships were arrayed in the system. "Belay that! Tell her to hold fast and maintain position between the threat and the shipyards."

"Aye, sir."

"Standby to drop!" the helmsman called out. A few seconds later, there was a mild shuddering, and the Broadsword popped out into real-space.

"Active radar," Risher ordered. "Coms, alert the station we've repositioned."

"Cutlass has arrived," OPS reported. "Status green on the link."

"Tell Engineering that they are to start the show in twenty-three minutes," Risher said. "Cutlass will maintain position here."

"Engineering reports ready, sir."

"Now the hard part," the XO said quietly. Risher just nodded. This all would have been a hell of a lot easier had he just ignored Mulhouse's orders in the first place as his instincts told him to do.

"Sir! The Broadsword is venting reactor plasma into space. She's declaring an emergency and requesting clearance to dock."

"Can she make it down under her own power?" the yard boss asked. "I don't have tugs available to go out and drag her in."

"She's still underway. Captain Risher says his emergency power will be enough to get him down and docked."

The yard boss looked out the expansive windows of the control room towards where the destroyer sat in space despite the fact she was still over sixty thousand kilometers away. There had been a lot of strange things happening on the busy but quiet shipyard lately. He heard they had Admiral Wolfe under arrest somewhere in the admin hab, and now one of the Super Valkyries wanted to come in and dock. It all felt well above his paygrade.

"We should run this up the chain," he said.

"You're yard, Boss. You know the officer of the watch will just kick it back down to you. She won't make the call. You want me to tell him to hold?"

"No," the boss said finally. "We'd better bring her in. We lose that ship, and they find out we told her to stand off and wait and it'll be our asses. Put her at the end of arm Nine-Charlie, berth One."

"She's inbound."

"They want engineering support?"

"Just power and air."

The yard boss narrowed his eyes at that. She was damaged enough to require dock services, but they weren't calling for a clear deck or any specialized repair teams.

"Go ahead and have security teams meet them down there. We can't be too careful these days."

"You got it."

Addis hated his job.

He'd been medically discharged out of the Fed Marine Corps when he was barely four weeks into training. Still thinking that life could be full of adventure, money, and women he signed up with one of the private military companies that had headhunters patrolling the recruit depots, looking for people just like him.

After signing the contract, he was whisked off to some hellish desert in the middle of nowhere on DeLonges for training. After that was complete, he was flown across the galaxy to shore up active military units on orbital platforms, never seeing any of these beautiful and exotic locations the recruiter had promised.

Now, he stood with his squad, a bored look on his face as a flat black warship of some kind—he never bothered to learn the different types—deftly maneuvered up to the massive boarding airlock. They'd been called down without much instruction so everybody was just milling about, most of them with their weapons slung across their backs.

"Broadsword arriving!" someone called over the intercom with enough enthusiasm that Addis wanted to punch them.

"What the fuck are we even doing down here? Three squads to watch these fleet assholes walk off the gangway?" he asked loudly to whoever was listening.

There were a few deep, resonating booms as the warship clamped onto the dock rigging and the airlock collars mated. After a hiss and puff of frozen vapor, the hatch yawned open to reveal not spacers in their utilities but armed Marines barreling out of the airlock and coming directly at them.

"Shit!" Addis yelped, trying to yank his weapon around before something crashed into the side of his head, sending him to the deck.

His vision swam, and he heard the shouts and footfalls around him as though they were far away. He thought he heard a few shots ring out, but he couldn't be sure. By the time his vision began to clear he felt his arms being roughly yanked behind his back and restraints put on.

"Fucking amateurs," one of the Marine NCOs from the ship spat as he hauled Addis into a sitting position against the bulkhead. He could see that the rest of the security force was similarly restrained with the exception of three lying dead on the deck.

"Yeah, well, we weren't expecting to be attacked by Marines from one of our own fucking ships," Addis's squad leader snarled.

"Like I said: amateurs," the sergeant said before speaking into his headset. "Docking arm secure, Captain. All security hatches have been mechanically locked out. Proceeding to main objective now."

"What do you guys want?" Addis asked.

"Where are Admiral Wolfe and his party being held?" the Marine asked. "You have an ESA strikeforce that just transitioned into this system. If you want to survive or live the remainder of your lives outside of a POW camp, you'll quickly tell me where he is."

"Admin Hab, Deck Ten, VIP suite four," another of the contractor squad leaders spoke up. "He's being guarded by Fleet Security."

"If you're lying, and I walk my Marines into an ambush, I'll have this airlock opened into space with you and your people in it," the sergeant said.

"Look, bud, I do this for a paycheck. I'm not dying here for some internal political bullshit. He's there, he's well-guarded, and they probably know you're coming…so, good luck."

"Let's move!" the sergeant yelled. "Close that airlock hatch!"

Addis watched as the Marines closed and sealed the airlock on their side and began quickly reorganizing themselves into three separate teams. There was a deep rumble through the deck, and when Addis looked back up the black warship was moving back out of berth, accelerating much harder than he'd ever seen from a departure before, her engines shaking the entire docking arm. By the time the Marines ran out of the receiving area the ship had cleared the mooring struts and was disappearing into the blackness of space.

"You think this will affect our annual bonus?" someone asked. There were a few chuckles and, soon, everyone was laughing uproariously.

20

"Marines are on the move, sir. First team is springing the admiral, and the other two will clear out the Nemesis."

"Excellent. Tactical?" Risher asked.

"Communications tower is targeted, sir. A-are we really doing this?" the tactical officer asked.

"We've already attacked the station, Commander…we're committed. You may fire at will," Risher said.

"Aye, sir."

The port laser battery opened up on the tall, spindly structure that jutted out of the Admin Hab. It was topped with a sealed chamber that, thankfully, was not crewed. It was the station's primary communication array, and Risher wanted it knocked out in case there were operatives on the platform talking to the incoming ESA taskforce. It wouldn't stop them from using Bluebird to report back to CENTCOM what was happening, but by the time anybody on Earth could do anything, Taskforce Wolfpack would be long-gone.

The tower vaporized under the barrage and atmosphere could be seen venting into space for a brief moment before the emergency hatch slammed closed on the maintenance shaft that led up to the amplifier housing. The hull of the Admin Hab showed some mild heating in the Broadsword's IR optics, but the platform was otherwise not damaged.

Risher nodded to the tactical officer. Eternis Pax's control room crew would now need to re-route short-range coms to the backup system. That wouldn't take an especially long time, but it would help add confusion and sow chaos while his Marines went about their task.

"ESA fleet is coming downhill, sir," the OPS officer said.

Risher looked at the tactical display and saw that the radar data was over seventeen hours old thanks to the distances involved. The computers in CIC were working to populate projected flightpaths but, so far, they had nothing he could react to. It didn't really matter either way when it came down to it. Even adding the Nemesis to the formation put them at a numerical disadvantage they wouldn't be able to overcome.

"Status on the Katana?" he asked.

"They've cleared the field emitter faults that dropped her early, sir. They're running a quick self-test cycle on the drive and project FMC within the hour."

"Tell the Katana and the Cutlass to begin plotting an escape course away from the incoming fleet," Risher said. "I'm afraid we won't have any choice but to surrender Eternis Pax to the enemy for now. We do the Federation no good by trying to take on seven-to-one odds and losing all four ships."

"Understood, sir," the XO said. "We'll live to fight another day."

"Another day." Risher nodded and walked off, his jaw clenched in frustration.

"Okay, that was definitely weapons fire."

Barton and Schmidt were near the hatch listening as the unmistakable sounds of small arms fire reached them. When they first noticed something was afoot, it was from the vibrations through the deck that told Jackson people aboard the platform had all started running around for some reason. There were no alarms or shouts they could hear, but it wasn't long before the muffled sound of shots fired reached them.

"It's coming this way, whatever it is," Dr. Ito said.

"So, do we think it's a force of loyalists coming to free us, or a force of ESA-aligned traitors coming to kill or capture us?" Barrett asked.

"Either option is equally probable," Jackson said.

The sounds of fighting intensified briefly, and now angry shouts and cries of pain could be clearly heard. Jackson was by no means an expert in small arms weaponry, but even his inexperienced ear could tell that both sides of the fight were firing identical weapons at each other, and they sounded a lot like the G2 carbine. The weapon was the standard issue weapon to Marines and could be configured for surface or shipboard warfare. The weapon was so ubiquitous that the fact everyone outside the hatch was firing one didn't tell Jackson one way or the other what the attacking force's intentions were.

"Is anybody here armed?" Commander Hori asked.

"We're both carrying hold-out pieces," Barton said, gesturing to Schmidt. The pair both held up the small sidearms they'd concealed that nobody in the room had even noticed they had pulled. "Don't expect much if these guys are wearing standard body armor."

The sounds of fighting died down beyond the locked hatch. The silence was deafening as everybody in the room strained to hear what was going on. They were so focused that, when a pounding on the hatch came, everyone except Barton nearly jumped out of their skin.

"Admiral Wolfe! This is Lieutenant Amante from the TFS Broadsword Marine detachment," a voice boomed. "We're here to help, sir. If you could please open the hatch."

"Go ahead," Jackson said to Barton. "They're coming in one way or the other. Don't shoot them unless they shoot you first."

Barton backed up and held his weapon at low-ready as Schmidt unlocked the hatch and pulled it open. A Marine first lieutenant walked in, his weapon hanging from the sling and his hands up and out where everyone could see them. Jackson looked past him and saw that his Marines were focused on the corridor not the inside of the suite.

"Admiral, we were tasked by Captain Risher to get you and your crew back to the Nemesis and clear the ship so Captain Barrett can retake command," Amante said.

"Can you brief me on her status?" Barrett asked.

"Crew is still aboard but restricted to quarters or to their work centers. Colonel Beck and her Marines are locked in berthing and the armory is secured by contractors. The bridge is being crewed by people from the station, but they aren't Fleet personnel."

"There are a lot of contractors and private military types floating around on Eternis Pax these days," Dr. Ito said. "Nobody seems to know who they work for or why they're here."

"You hadn't mentioned that," Jackson said, standing up and stretching his good leg. "Lieutenant, we need to extract Dr. Ito as well. Doctor, how quickly can you retrieve your data?"

"I take it with me wherever I go, dear boy." Ito smiled and patted his wheelchair. "There's a fully encrypted datacore built into this chair. It's the only complete set on the entire platform. I became distrustful of the newcomers I was seeing, so I took steps."

"So, we're good?" Amante asked, looking anxious to be on their way.

"We're good," Jackson said. "Let's move."

"Any chance you have a spare rigs and weapons for us, LT?" Barton asked, gesturing to himself and Schmidt.

"There's plenty in the corridor here," Amante said somberly. "Unfortunately, the Admiral's suite was being guarded by Marines, not contractors."

"Dead?"

"Marines don't surrender, Master Sergeant."

"They died doing their jobs," Barrett said. "Now, let's make sure we do ours."

Jackson shuddered a bit at the implication. To effect his rescue, people had been forced to turn their weapons on their fellow comrades. This had already cost more than he would have been willing to spare, but there was no going back and changing it now.

The battle in the corridor had been quick and brutal. Amante's people had the advantage of engaging a smaller force trapped in an enclosed space with no cover. They also hadn't been wearing armor while the Broadsword detachment had. Nine Federation Marines lie dead on the deck while only two from Amante's force were being treated for non-life threatening wounds. Barton and Schmidt quickly stripped two of the dead Marines of their weapons and battle harnesses.

"This will be straight forward," Amante said. "The bulk of our force has already moved ahead of us to secure our path to the Nemesis. They'll fall in behind us as we move until we're all at the ship and ready to board. One squad will be taking you to the bridge, the other two will break off and release Colonel Beck and her Marines. After that, it will be compartment to compartment clearing them out of the ship."

"Ready to go," Barton said, handing a sidearm to Jackson and Barrett each while Schmidt did the same for the other officers. "Hang back and let the Lieutenant run his op, sirs. We need you back on the bridge alive or this was all for nothing. No hero shit."

"You don't need to worry about us, Barton," Jackson said. "Just remember that Dr. Ito is the most important person in this group."

They moved out of the corridor at a quick pace, running up the ramp to one of the main ring-corridors that would take them around to the access point for the transient docking complex where the Nemesis was parked. Jackson approved of how Risher's Marines were running the op so far, moving the bulk of their force ahead to secure areas that will be defended by station personnel. The security checkpoint to the docking complex will be crucial.

They ran past small fire teams along the way that would fall in behind them as they passed. So far, the tactic was working brilliantly. Advanced units would move and hold their path and, as they progressed, their rear-guard would get larger to hold off any attack from behind the security personnel might try. It kept on working right up until they passed through the security barriers at the dock entrance unimpeded.

"Contact right!" someone bellowed just before a small team opened fire from the airlock antechamber of an unoccupied docking arm. The rear guard immediately moved right and advanced while the Marines on that side—two of whom were down—returned fire.

"Keep your lanes clear!" Lieutenant Amante shouted above the din. "Keep moving"

Jackson was pushed ahead roughly as the squad guarding him moved him past the ambush point. The troopers in the antechamber didn't stand a chance. They downed two Marines but were then wiped out completely before they could do any more damage. The problem was that there were six more identical alcoves they needed to pass before they reached the Nemesis. Amante recognized the problem just as quickly.

"2nd Squad, move ahead and clear these docks!" he called back. "3rd Squad, stay in close and protect the VIPs!"

They cleared the first few alcoves quickly, and Jackson thought they were going to make it to the ship when a much larger force than any they'd yet faced came boiling out of an alcove ahead of them. He realized it was the dock they were heading towards and the troopers in their blue contractor uniforms were obviously part of the group holding the ship.

"Scatter!" Amante bellowed. "Into the alcoves!"

Jackson and the others were herded towards an alcove on the left side of the wide corridor just as they started taking incoming fire. As Dr. Ito's chair rolled through the opening, Jackson heard a sharp grunt that stood out among all the other sounds of battle. He turned back and saw Barrett doubled over, his face contorted in agony while his steps faltered.

"No!" Jackson's cry was swallowed by the sounds of weapons fire and the shouts of combatants. Barton heard and turned to see the Nemesis's captain collapse as two more round impacts hit his right side.

"Stay down!" Barton shouted at Jackson as he ran in a crouch, grabbing Barrett's uniform collar and dragging him roughly across the deck, leaving a bloody streak behind him. Barton almost made it all the way into the airlock alcove when he was hit in the lower leg. He stumbled and fell, but didn't let go of Barrett's collar. Emil Schmidt was able to grab Barton's outstretched hand and pull them both out of the incoming while Amante's Marines scrambled for cover.

"Move!" Commander Hori barked, rolling Barrett over onto his back and opening his uniform jacket. His white shirt was soaked in blood, and Jackson could see he'd taken at least three hits to his lower torso along the right side. The captain's eyes were wide and unfocused, and he was breathing shallowly. Jackson could see he was going into shock and losing too much blood, but he felt helpless. Hori, however, worked quickly and precisely as she yanked the med kit from Schmidt's harness and addressed each wound.

"The blood is dark and flowing freely, but it isn't spurting," she said, pulling a can of clotting agent and pressing the nozzle into the wounds. The rapidly expanding bio-foam would stop the bleeding from even the most irregularly shaped wound, but it couldn't plug up a nicked artery. She pulled out three auto-injectors and handed them to Jackson. "Jam each of those into his left, upper thigh, Admiral."

Jackson pulled the caps on the injectors and pushed them into Barrett's leg until they popped like he had done in training. The cocktail of drugs they injected would help stave off shock and take the edge off the pain without knocking him completely out.

"How are you doing, Barton?" he asked as he finished his task and pinned the injectors to Barrett's collar so the medical staff would know what he'd been given.

"Through and through, left calf, sir. Hurts like a motherfucker, but I'll live. Well, assuming any of us live."

Jackson looked out the alcove opening at that, now noticing the exchange of weapons fire had died down in volume, but only because both sides were now pinned down and unable to advance. That type of stalemate only worked until one side or the other was reinforced, which favored the station contractors.

"We need to get him to an infirmary, Admiral," Hori said. "He's barely hanging on right now."

"I don't think that will be up to me, Commander," Jackson said, looking to see if he could see Lieutenant Amante.

21

"They're pulling back, ma'am. It sounds like they may have left one, maybe two at the main hatchway."

"What have you been able to scrounge up?" Colonel Beck asked. "Remember, there's an amnesty on any contraband here in berthing if it helps us get to the armory."

"Seven fixed-blade knives. Three look like antiques but four are modern blades with good edges. We've affixed them to metal polls to give a little range," the Gunnery Sergeant told her.

"So, spears against at least a couple contractors with guns," Beck sighed. "It's better than nothing. We need to retake the ship, and this looks like our chance. Let's put our spearman—and I can't believe I'm saying that—up behind the shields your people rigged. We take out the sentries here, grab their weapons, and get to our armory. We do not stop until we're there. Understood?"

"Understood, ma'am. Do we have an execute order?"

"Do it. Now."

The detachment had been confined to the two adjoining bays they were assigned to by a security force that showed the proper paperwork to take command of the ship. Since she'd not heard from the bridge or the command crew, Colonel Beck had decided to play it by ear rather than try to engage an armed force. So far, her people had been left alone, and food had been coming at regular intervals, but nobody had been permitted to leave. All the while, Beck had kept her people busy planning for when they would need to take action.

The force holding the Nemesis had enough familiarity with the ship to know the main access points to the Marine detachment that needed to be guarded, but they seemed to be ignorant of half a dozen others. Once you've lived on a ship for a few years, you learn all of the little secrets she holds. In reality, you couldn't actually seal the Marine detachment bays. There were just too many other ways out.

At her order, six of her Marines had climbed through a maintenance hatch behind a wall locker unit—one that was normally reserved for storing their contraband—and made their way down an access tunnel until the came out two decks below. The six were all volunteers and some of the best Beck had at her disposal. Her stomach was in knots at the realization she likely wouldn't keep all six alive.

Corporal Peirce stalked up the corridor, moving quickly and quietly to the next T-junction. He held his makeshift spear at the ready in front of him, part-disgusted and part-exhilarated at the thought of engaging a numerically superior, better-armed enemy with such a primitive weapon.

Five Marines were spaced out behind him. Close enough to rush forward and provide help but far enough away to not get blasted if Peirce walked into an anti-personnel device. When they'd emerged from the maintenance access hatch into a parts storage locker, they found a group of four spacers from engineering hiding there. They had been permitted some movement about the ship but had found it was better to avoid the security contractors altogether than to try and prove you were allowed to be roaming around.

They ended up being a wealth of intel and had given Peirce a decently detailed picture of the enemy's strength and patrol schedule. The ranking member of the group had told him that the chief engineer had people working in the machine shops on compressed gas zip guns, quietly building an arsenal to try and repel the boarders. Peirce had been tempted to go retrieve them, but the machine shops were all the way aft near the reactor room, and he couldn't afford to be seen and lose the element of surprise.

The team worked back up the ladders to Deck Seven where their detachment bays were located and started back towards the security station where the guards had been posted. Peirce could hear them talking quietly and only made out two voices still. He motioned to his right, and the two Marines at the rear of the column moved forward and posted up there to intercept any incoming patrols while the rest all bunched together. The need for alacrity had dictated their tactics. This was just going to be a bull rush into the security checkpoint where they would engage the two armed guards point-blank.

When the time came to execute there were no war cries or barked commands to give away the element of surprise. Peirce simply took off at a dead run with the others right behind him.

"Hey! Who the hell— Ugh!" The first guard stumbled back, gurgling as Corporal Peirce rammed his spear right into this throat. Peirce moved to the right even though it exposed him to the second guard so he cleared the lane for his Marines behind him. He knew he was at risk so when the first two shots from the guard's weapon ripped into his sides, he wasn't surprised.

His legs floundered under him, and he fell headlong into the dying man he'd just stabbed. It felt like his side was on fire, and he could tell something critical had been hit. The rounds the guards used were designed to break apart and do as much damage as possible. Not great against troops wearing armor, devastating against someone in utilities.

"I-I'm sorry," the guard beneath him choked out as the blood flowed from the wound in his neck.

"Yeah," Peirce said as he watched the light fade from the man's eyes. "Me, too."

"Corporal Peirce is dead, ma'am. No other casualties or injuries."

"Fuck!" Beck fumed. "Armory team! You're up! Move it!"

Another team of Marines, this group now armed with the weaponry of the two dead guards, raced out of the detachment bay towards the armory. Since shipboard action was almost unheard of, Marines not actually guarding a person or location were never armed with more than a collapsible baton. For safekeeping—and to head off any incidents—the armament was kept away from the detachment under lock and guard. Colonel Beck now realized that long-standing policy aboard starships had just cost her at least one good Marine and who knew how many more by the time she'd be able to retake the Nemesis.

She looked down at the blanket covering Corporal Peirce, guilt stabbing her in the chest as she second-guessed all the actions she'd taken up to this point once she realized the ship had been seized by a hostile force.

There was a brief exchange of weapons fire before a runner came back to their position.

"Ma'am, we have the armory. We're distributing kits now," a private reported.

"Everyone get your asses in gear!" Beck ordered. "Grab your kit and start forward! I want every Marine moving towards the main boarding hatch!"

She was gambling that most of the security force had been pulled off the ship when they'd heard them all leaving, and she wanted to secure the only way back onto Nemesis before deploying sweeper teams throughout. It wouldn't do any good to begin securing compartments if she left the front door wide open for reinforcements to come in and wipe her out.

As her Marines move quickly to the armory to gear up like they'd drilled a thousand times to do, Beck reached for the com panel near the security desk, her hand hovering over it for a moment. She had no idea how many were left aboard, but she also didn't want the crew getting caught in any crossfire.

In the end, she decided against broadcasting a warning. Whoever these people were, they likely still held the bridge and that meant they could do all sorts of nasty things to the crew or to her Marines if they knew what was happening belowdeck. She glanced down at her watch as she ran, noting the entire op had taken less than seven minutes.

"Not bad."

"Something is happening," Schmidt said, moving over so he could see into the corridor without exposing himself. "I think they're— Holy shit!"

Two shots pinged off the hatchway where Schmidt's head had just been as he ducked back into the alcove.

"They're coming back to us," the sergeant said. Barton just shook his head at his younger charge.

"They must be getting reinforcements if they're—" The sounds of a heavy machinegun cut off Barton.

"This is Colonel Beck of the UTF Marine Corps," Colonel Beck's amplified voice boomed down the corridor. "Throw down your weapons or we will kill each and every last one of you standing in this docking arm wearing a blue uniform. Am I understood?"

"Looks like reinforcements arrived, Master Sergeant," Jackson said. "Now, let's just hope the enemy listens."

There was the sporadic exchange of more gunfire before Beck's people let loose again with another barrage of machinegun fire, and then the harsh boom of multiple grenades going off. Over the cries of pain and confusion, there was someone screaming that they surrendered. It took a few more minutes for the order to propagate out from whoever was in charge.

"Lieutenant! Stop!" Colonel Beck's shout was followed immediately by a long, sustained burst from a carbine…then silence.

"Oh, shit." Barton frowned, standing up. "I'll check it out, sir, but I think Amante may have just committed a war crime."

Jackson stood as well and edged around the alcove entrance to see what was happening. Sure enough, Lieutenant Amante stood over a dozen or so bodies. They were bunched up in the middle of the corridor, obviously having gathered to surrender when the lieutenant mowed them down. Amante looked like he'd taken a hit and his left arm, soaked in blood, dangled uselessly at his side.

The entire scene was heartbreaking. Marines and blue-uniformed contractors all lay dead on the deck. They were supposed to be fighting the enemy not themselves.

Pointless.

The tension hung in the air as the Marines from the Broadsword congealed around their lieutenant while Beck's Marines looked to her to see what they should do. Jackson could see the situation getting out of hand at a time when they could least afford it.

"That's enough!" he barked, moving out into the corridor where they could see him. "Colonel Beck, we need to secure the bridge of the Nemesis right now, and we have two wounded men back here, one of them serious. Captain Barrett needs to be taken to the infirmary immediately or he might not make it." His words seemed to break the tension, and people scrambled to tend to the wounded and move back onto the ship.

"I can't allow that to go unaccounted for, Admiral," Beck said as Barrett was loaded onto a stretcher that had been run out from the Nemesis. The rest of the Marines divided into groups to begin their operation aboard the ship.

"Lieutenant Amante isn't under your command, Colonel," Jackson reminded her. "It will be up to his detachment commander if he wants to press charges or not. Either way, we won't be handling it now. Get everybody back aboard the ship and lock her up. We won't get a lot of time before they send another force to try and retake her."

"Understood," Beck said stiffly.

"I hear you, Colonel. We will deal with this at an appropriate time. Standing in the open waiting for a counterattack isn't it. I'm not any happier about the lieutenant gunning down people who had surrendered than you are," Jackson said. "Let's just hope the people on the bridge aren't the suicidal type. We locked out the command functions before we disembarked as a safeguard, but you can still do some damage up there."

"We'll get them out, sir," Beck promised.

"We need to get her to space. We have a lot of work to do, and that ESA taskforce isn't going to make it easy." Jackson walked with her as they watched the Marines board at the same time a few security contractors who had stayed aboard were disarmed and tossed out.

"We'll need to clear the ship once we're underway," she said as two more prisoners passed. "We've taken too long already."

Once the Nemesis's massive main boarding hatch boomed shut and locked, Jackson felt a lot better about their situation. They were now no longer at the mercy of the politicians and bureaucrats. The situation was less than ideal, but as long as he had a starship under his ass, he always felt like he had a fighting chance.

22

As it turned out, the group holding the bridge wasn't much for fighting, much less suicide.

All it took was for engineering to shut off the fresh air supply, and they were willing to talk. The bridge had multiple backup systems including self-contained rebreathers and fast-deployment pressure suits for emergencies, but the people they'd stuck up there didn't know about any of them. It let Jackson know these weren't spacers, just some engineers who drew the short straw to babysit the ship while the people on Eternis Pax tried to unscramble the command codes.

"What are you going to do to us?" their spokeswoman asked over the intercom. "We were just up here watching the displays and making sure your crew didn't try anything funny."

"I hadn't really thought about it," Commander Hori said. "I suppose the easiest thing would be to follow the UTF maritime charter. Do you know what the crime is for illegally boarding and assuming command of a registered warship? I'm not sure if that would fall under piracy or—"

"Wait, wait, wait! We didn't steal anything!"

"You are in procession of the TFS Nemesis, a ship under the command of Captain Michael Barrett. As of this moment, you still have not relinquished control of the vessel. That is, by definition, stealing the ship. If you were one of the crew, it would be simple mutiny, and we could just kill you and be done with this."

Jackson made a hurry up gesture to the XO. She nodded and hit the intercom button again.

"You have ninety seconds before we shut off the air entirely. We can fly the ship from CIC. We don't actually need to regain the bridge." She shrugged and smiled at Jackson. What she'd told them wasn't actually true, but they didn't seem to have even a passing familiarity with the Valkyrie-class destroyer, or even starships in general.

"What will be done with us if we—"

"Seventy-five seconds."

Hori's answer was the heavy clunks of the armored hatch locks disengaging. Made of sandwiched layers of the same alloy the hull armor was forged from, the main entry hatch to the bridge was damn near impregnable. Anything that could dislodge or breach it would probably do so much damage to the ship it'd be a self-defeating exercise.

Before the whining actuators had swung the hatch completely open fourteen civilians dressed like they were on a weekend outing walked out, hands clasped over their heads. The Marines stood by to grab them and slap on the restraints before searching them. Other than some souvenirs they tried to smuggle out from Jackson's office and the bridge briefing room, they appeared to be clean.

"Scan 'em, and then dump 'em into the lifeboat," Beck said, gesturing for the clearing team to sweep the bridge. The Marines checked for not only lurkers who tried to stay behind but used sensitive scanning equipment to search for any hidden explosives or other types of nasty surprises they may have left.

"All clear, Colonel!" someone shouted after a few minutes.

"Let's go," Jackson said, walking onto the bridge. He went to the center station and entered the fifteen character alphanumeric key code, along with the biometric scan that would unlock Nemesis's command functions. As soon as it was entered the bridge came alive as the tactical, OPS, and helm stations all reactivated.

"OPS, please, put in a note in the log that, as of right now, I am assuming command of the Nemesis due to Captain Barrett's incapacitation," he said. "Coms, contact Eternis Pax dock master and inform them we will be departing and to unlock the mooring clamps. Helm?"

"Engines were in ready standby, Admiral. We'll be ready to get underway the moment Engineering clears us."

"Admiral, dock master is denying our request for release. He's ordering us to stand down and prepare to be boarded…again."

"Coms, please, tell the dock master the Nemesis will be leaving. It would be wise if he released the ship before she gets underway," Jackson said. "Tactical, are we on the link?"

"Threat picture coming in from Taskforce Wolfpack now, sir," the tactical officer said. "Alliance forces still days away but closing at full burn."

"Aegis?" Jackson asked hopefully. Silence.

"Admiral, engineering has cleared the Nemesis for movement. The ship is at your command, sir," Hori said.

"Very well," Jackson said. "Please, close the bridge hatch. It will remain closed until Colonel Beck declares the ship clear of interlopers. Coms, 1MC, and broadcast this over the taskforce link as well."

"Go, sir."

"Crew of the Nemesis, this is Admiral Wolfe. We are back in command of the ship, but at great cost. Captain Barrett has been seriously wounded in the action and, until he is fit to return to duty, I will be taking command of the ship.

"We are at a crossroads, ladies and gentlemen. We have been betrayed at the highest levels, a president many of us served under and respected assassinated, and the attempt to seize this ship to hand over to the ESA. In the face of such treachery, I can no longer in good faith follow our chain of command as I believe them to be compromised, but I will not abandon my oath to the Federation and to her people.

"If times were different, I would give each of you the option of leaving the ship or remaining in your quarters if you were uncomfortable with my decision, but I now need each and every one of you to man your post. We have one shot to end this brutal war before in consumes everything we've fought to build. One shot, but it's a damn good one. Before Vadim Kohl or his Terran Unity can finish off what remains of the Federation, we will strike a blow that can end this fight once and for all. You have all followed me before. I'm asking you to follow me this one last time. Let's get this job done. Wolfe out."

"Channel closed, sir,"

"Mooring clamps still holding fast?" Jackson asked.

"Yes, sir," Hori said.

"They were warned," Jackson said. "Helm, all engines ahead one third. Bear out into space and keep a hold of her. This will get rough, and she'll want to kick back into the docking arm."

"Ahead one third, aye! Bearing to starboard."

The helmsman pushed the throttles up and the reaction was immediate. The deck heaved and bucked as the engines shoved the starship forward while the mooring clamps tried to hold her back. The clamps were active devices with powerful actuators meant to keep half a million tonnes of starship from moving about near the station, and they were now locked into a struggle to the death with the Nemesis as she tried to rip herself free.

The two titanic machines fighting each other created a feedback loop as each exerted more and more force. It wasn't long before alarms started sounding on the bridge, and the deck shook violently enough the computer sounded the collision alert to get the crew in their restraints.

"Sir!" the helmsman shouted, pointing at the warnings on his displays.

"Steady!" Jackson said. "A little more. Keep the power where it's at, and be ready."

The groans coming from within the ship gave way to the sharp cracks of something structural giving way. Everyone looked at Jackson in alarm, but he just sat impassively in the command chair. The destroyer lurched, and her prow aimed out towards open space as the forward clamp failed.

"Ahead one half," Jackson said calmly.

"Ahead one half, aye!" The helmsman had a death-grip on the controls and pushed the power up to fifty percent. The single primary clamp left holding the ship near the stern didn't last long under the renewed assault. With a sharp bang that echoed through the ship, the final clamp failed and was ripped loose from the dockside mounting point. The Nemesis, now free, leapt away and quickly put distance between her and the docking complex.

"All ahead full," Jackson ordered. "Make your course for rendezvous with the Katana. Tactical, keep an eye behind us as well as on the ESA ships. Eternis Pax has some defensive weaponry aboard. Let's not assume they won't open fire on us."

"CIC is reporting minor damage to the forward docking point," Hori said. "The aft point is dragging along the clamp and actuator assembly that ripped free from the station."

"Damage to the dock?" Jackson asked.

"Minor hull breaches that have already been sealed by the automated damage control and, of course, the destroyed mooring system," she said.

"The damage would have been significantly higher if we'd tried to use her armament to free ourselves," Jackson said. "Even the laser batteries at lowest power would have punched right through the docking arm's outer hull. Good work, everybody, especially the helm keeping her aimed out into space the whole time."

"Thank you, Admiral," the helmsman said, his neck flushing red at the rare compliment from an officer that rarely gave them. Jackson didn't compliment people simply for being competent. If you served with him, you were expected to be proficient in your job.

"OPS get a status from the infirmary regarding Captain Barrett and how Colonel Beck's round-up is going," Jackson said. "I do not want any saboteurs on this ship by the time we're transitioning out. Have her people start sending the interlopers down to the hangar deck so Flight OPS can load them up in a spare lifeboat and send them back to Eternis Pax."

"Yes, sir," Hori said, slipping on her headset.

"Coms, please, set up a link channel to the captains of all the ships in Taskforce Wolfpack," Jackson said. "I'll be taking it in the bridge briefing room."

"Aye, sir."

Jackson paced the bridge, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut. Had the new Fed administration actually set him up to be handed over to the ESA? After their demonstration in the Odessa System, could this more likely be about securing Aegis?

That last realization made him stop pacing. He hadn't been able to make contact with Aegis and assumed it was because it hadn't come out of the diagnostic cycle. Could it have already been taken off the ship, and now he was foolishly flying away, leaving it behind?

"Barton! Come here. I need you to do something for me."

23

"How is this even possible?!"

"We assumed Captain Risher's ambition eclipsed his loyalty. We were wrong."

"You're awfully calm about this," President Mulhouse accused. "Why do I get the feeling like you've hung me out to dry here, Wren?"

"You're not entirely wrong," Wren Ives said with a shrug and a smile. "You're completely expendable if that's what you're asking. What? You think you were handpicked by Makov because you were going to be such a valuable partner? Come on. You knew the deal when we started. You play along and get us what we want, you get to be propped up as a puppet regent and pretend you're in charge of whatever ends up being left of the Federation."

"From the fact you're speaking to me this way, I can assume you think you're close enough to your goals for it to no longer matter if you're discovered," Mulhouse said.

"It's highly unlikely anybody can stop us at this point," Ives agreed. "Xinjia has been subdued and, in turn, the rest of the ESA has quietly fallen in line. The Fed systems will be a bit more unruly and independent, but without any standing militaries of their own to speak of, they won't be too defiant for too long. Once everyone accepts the inevitable, we can get down to the real business of reorganizing the government. If all goes to plan, your average citizen will hardly even notice."

"How do you explain away four dead planets?!" Mulhouse asked. "Five if you count Brabus."

"The unfortunate actions of a lone wolf commander," she said innocently. "But the Unity promises that Vadim Kohl will answer for his atrocities as we work tirelessly for a new tomorrow for all humans."

Mulhouse felt sick to his stomach at her smug, mocking tone. He wasn't self-deluded enough to think he was going to be given a seat at the table when their little revolution played out, but he still expected a generous slice of the pie for his efforts. What he had failed to consider when he had first been approached was the very real human costs of their political gaming.

"Regrets, Mr. President?" she asked, seeming to read his mind.

"No," he said quickly. "Of course not. I'll just be glad when this is all over. The longer this drags out the more needless loss of life and equipment we'll have."

"Yes, well, we don't want to—" Her comlink chiming interrupted her, the red flashing light indicating it was an encrypted channel. She frowned and moved away to answer it. "Yes? Oh? Keep me appraised."

"Well?" Mulhouse demanded when she made no move to tell him what the call had been about.

"We're looking for certain key personnel that disappeared along with ex-Director Perez. One of them had a unique ship assigned to him. We know the ship never left this system. We know he probably did, but we can't figure out where he stashed it. One of my sweeper teams thinks they found something in a rural part of this continent."

"Fascinating," Mulhouse said, looking at his watch. "Will there be anything else?"

"I'll let you know if there is," she said. "Try not to be so glum about all of this. It'll be over soon enough, and you'll be ready to reap the rewards of your foresight."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Mulhouse picked up his security detail outside of the director's office and made his way back to his vehicle. Since Wren Ives had pushed through her own appointment to CIS Director she'd quickly moved to consolidate her power within the disorganized remnants of the Federation's government.

While Mulhouse scrambled to assemble his own political team of advisors and ministers, Ives was busy making sure that people knew who the real power within the government was: her. Now one of the least well-kept secrets in the ancient city of Philadelphia was that the president of the UTF really answered to his CIS director.

Under normal circumstances he'd have found the arrangement humiliating, but now he had much bigger things to worry about. One thing becoming glaringly obvious in his conversations with Ives was what she wasn't talking about: Earth. The planet had long remained defiantly independent of the colony worlds it had spawned, and for the Unity's plan to work, that would have to change. The fact she wasn't even casually mentioning the need to negotiate with Geneva or reach an agreement told Mulhouse that yet one more atrocity was likely planned before this was all said and done.

Vincent Russo felt like a drowning man…again.

Agent Pike was not responding to any of his communications. He had no idea if they were getting through, if the equipment was damaged, if Pike was dead, or if something else had changed on Earth. He had been trying for over a week to let his handler know about Abyss but had so far received nothing in return.

Russo had been cut off before and left to fend for himself within a deep-cover role that could have gotten him killed at any time. Working with Pike had been his salvation and redemption all rolled up into one, allowing him to ease the guilt he'd felt after Odmena while doing something meaningful to stop the Unity's plans. Now, he felt alone once again and, to make things worse, had attracted the attention of Ella Ersk.

She'd been infamous within intelligence circles for some years without anybody even really knowing who she was. For some reason, she'd taken up permanent residence on the Koshmar and showed no intention of leaving anytime soon. She seemed to spend more time than necessary with Russo, and he couldn't tell if she suspected him or just found it amusing to toy with someone she already intended to kill. He couldn't go to his office for fear of her following him there and finding the covert Bluebird box the CIS mission on Xinjia had slipped to him.

"I should have fucking gone home," he groaned, regretting his choice to keep up the ruse of Captain Vincent Russo a little bit longer.

Another new dynamic was the increasingly erratic and unhinged behavior of Vadim Kohl, not exactly a man known for a steady hand on the till in the first place. He now refused to allow the crew to see him in a wheelchair so, prior to watch change on the bridge, Russo had to call everyone in for a briefing while Kohl was wheeled onto the bridge and tossed into the command chair.

The whole thing was tedious and juvenile but, moreover, it indicated Kohl's grasp on reality was slipping badly. Russo's role as the commodore's confidant meant he was subjected to long, nonsensical rants and paranoid fantasies in which Kohl was convinced Makov would have him killed soon but that he had enacted some secret plan—so secret he couldn't tell Russo—that would allow him to turn the tables on them.

During these narcotic-fueled sessions, all Russo could do was sit there and try to look like he was taking Kohl seriously and agreeing with his incoherent, psychotic ramblings. It was terrifying that this was the man in charge of Abyss, a weapon that, if deployed properly, had the potential to shift the balance of power almost immediately.

He had heard from Ersk that Wolfe had managed to escape the trap they'd set for him and was likely heading for the same place they were. So, now, unless someone interceded, there would be one last titanic showdown in the Xinjia System for control of all human space. The Unity would try to sell it as Kohl versus Wolfe, a rematch they told the public heavily favored the Alliance.

What it would really be was Aegis against Abyss. Which alien tech-derived superweapon would come out on top? Russo had seen what Aegis had done to the battlefleet at Odessa and now that Wolfe was free and back in command he was filled with hope that perhaps the admiral could win the day once again.

"You said something, Captain?" Kohl rumbled, his head coming up. Russo had thought he had finally drifted off into oblivion after the last round of shots and painkillers.

"Just that it'll be good to go home," he said. "Once this is all over. Once we've won."

"There is no winning this, Captain. There is only beating back the enemy just enough to allow our politicians to wrest control from their politicians. After it's all said and done, we'll still be the same people we all were before. This idea of a Terran Unity is laughable."

Russo didn't know how to respond to that moment of clarity from a man he increasingly suspected of suffering from a psychotic break with reality. He took a sip of his drink to buy himself some time, weighing the risk versus benefit of trying to push in around the edges a little more. At the height of his power, Kohl had been little more than a narcissistic blowhard who had latched onto the legend of a man he so desperately wanted to be and, in a strange twist, reinvented himself as that man's archenemy.

Kohl had been an unimportant, overlooked staff officer routinely pushed aside while others in his peer-group advanced. He'd been attached to critical projects within the ESA, but not in any critical roles. When Wolfe destroyed the Darshik Specter in one-on-one combat, however, Kohl saw in him an opportunity for self-promotion. He dedicated himself to becoming the expert within the Alliance Fleet Command on everything pertaining to Admiral Wolfe.

What happened next was as much dumb luck as anything else. While Kohl was publishing papers on the favored tactics of the legendary admiral, the ESA government began to portray Wolfe as the boogeyman responsible for all of the calamities that had befell them in recent times. They managed to pin the Phage invasion on him as well as blaming him for the Darshik.

The cabal that would later form the Terran Unity took note of this and saw something useful in both the demonization of Jackson Wolfe and the exploitation of Vadim Kohl. They built him up as a fleet master on par with Wolfe who would be able to lead the ESA to victory.

Unfortunately, Kohl believed their obvious psy-op. He read the glowing press releases the cabal fed the media and truly thought of himself as a commander on par with the man who beat both the Phage and the Darshik. That belief had led to disaster after disaster that cost the ESA and the Federation hundreds of ships and millions of lives.

So…was he actually seeing things—and possibly himself—as they really were? Or was he drunk and high and just mumbling things he thought sounded profound?

"I'd say the end of the conflict is, itself, a victory, sir," Russo said carefully, erring on the side of caution.

"Maybe." Kohl shrugged. He was apparently already disinterested in the conversation he started. "How long until we reach Xinjia?"

"Twelve more days, sir."

"When we get there, I think I would like to go down to the surface. I have spent so much of my life breathing the stale, metallic air of these accursed ships. I think a break on the planet, by the sea, would be nice. Don't you think, Captain?"

Russo opened his mouth to answer but saw Kohl was now sound asleep and snoring softly. He could only roll his eyes at his boss's drug-addled mind and melodramatics. With a heavy sigh, he drained the rest of his drink and stood, straightening out his uniform before walking out of the office.

"The commodore is ready for the rack," he said to the waiting medical technicians sitting on chairs outside in the corridor. There was a team that worked around the clock making sure Kohl was taken care of, and they were kept separate from the rest of the Koshmar's crew to keep the rumors from circulating about his health. Knowing the taskforce was commanded by someone not in full control of their mental faculties did little to inspire confidence.

"Did he manage to not shit himself sitting in his chair?" Ella Ersk emerged from the shadows of another hatchway.

"I couldn't say, ma'am," Russo said. "Nothing seemed amiss when I left."

"Some men—strong men of will and character—can suffer grievous injury and not let it affect their mental clarity," she said. "Kohl was never one of these men. He will continue to whither until he eventually dies, probably sooner than later if he keeps drinking vodka on top of his drug regimen."

"Was that all you needed to see me about?" Russo asked. "To enquire about the commodore's continence?"

"Don't be a sarcastic asshole, Captain. It doesn't suit you. Come, we have things to discuss before we reach Xinjia."

Russo fell in behind her as she walked back towards her own quarters. He contemplated killing her first as he was absolutely certain she planned on killing him when it suited her. For now, she seemed to enjoy screwing with him but, more and more, he suspected she knew who he really was.

"Home sweet home."

"I've never actually been here," Admiral Xiao said.

"You're not missing much," Sam Trapp replied while working at the com station. "Before it became the capital of the Asianic Union this planet was an outpost colony for resource mining and heavy industry. That takes a toll on an eco-system. Xinjia is a lot cleaner now, but it sure as hell isn't as nice as someplace like New Sierra is…or was."

The small ship they'd stolen had made it all the way back to the Xinjia System, but now they needed to convince the ships in the area that the small Federation courier vessel that just transitioned in from a Federation jump point was a friendly.

"Have they accepted your clearance codes?" Xiao asked.

"They haven't fired any missiles at us yet, so that's a positive sign," Trapp said. "Right now, they're talking to Xinjia to see what's going on so the transmission lag gives us some hours to sit here and think things over."

"What things?"

"Things like what we're about to try and do. You're still ready to take that step? Lots of people say things they don't mean, especially when flying by the smoldering husk of what used to be a planet with over seven billion people on it."

"I am fully committed," Xiao said. "If my name is to be remembered, it will be for standing up to the atrocities and tyranny of the Unity. But what of you? Given your profession and past actions, you'll forgive me if I'm not fully convinced you won't just turn me over as a traitor to help ease your own reintegration with the Unity's leadership."

"While my reasons can't be expressed as flowery as yours, I have them. Unlike you, I'm hoping I won't be remembered at all."

They fell silent for the remaining hours as they waited for something to happen. On the ship's woefully underpowered anti-collision radar they could barely make out a frigate decelerating and coming about onto an intercept course but, otherwise, they were alone near the system boundary.

What Trapp could see from all the transponder codes squawking down below was that the Xinjia System had been fortified after the last attack there. Two-hundred and forty-seven mainline warships patrolled orbital lanes down there, and another three-hundred support ships loitered near the edges and away from major jump points.

This represented the bulk of the Alliance's total military power, which meant Makov and Chan had been successful in seizing control of the Council. Unlike the Federation where the numbered fleets were committed to an enclave like New America or Britannia, in the ESA individual fleet units had loyalties to individual people or families. They all fell under Alliance Fleet Command but when push came to shove, they would answer the call of the people who owned them. The fact Makov has managed to drag them all together was an impressive feat all its own.

"What is he like?" Xiao asked.

"What is who like?" Trapp asked, already seeing where this was going.

"Admiral Wolfe. I was on a heavy cruiser during the Phage War, but we never saw combat. The ship was deemed a liability rather than an asset. I never served with him when he'd assumed command of the unified fleet."

"He's quiet. Unassuming," Trapp said. "He still carries the mental scars of the abuse he suffered as an Earther before the Phage came, but most people wouldn't know to talk to him. They'd simply see him as standoffish or even arrogant. His most potent weapon is that he never assumes he knows everything. He constantly reevaluates the situation and listens to the people around him. He's never afraid to reverse course and admit he's made a mistake. That makes him different from most flag officers, and it's one of the reasons they all have such difficulty beating him."

"Fascinating insight," Xiao said. "Since his exploits became public sometimes it is difficult to understand that he's still just a man. I think that while he avoids buying into his own legend, his leaders don't. They scheme and betray and play their games because they think they can just unleash Wolfe and militarily conquer any problem."

"You're probably more right than you even realize," Trapp said. "Wolfe is aware of this as well. It's why he's tried to quit half a dozen times or to remain a captain instead of being an admiral. He knows that failure is inevitable for everyone, and he doesn't want to be put in a position where his failure has consequences far greater than just the loss of a single ship or a single battle."

"Federation Courier Vessel Twelve Alpha One," a voice came in over the traffic management channel. "You are instructed to fly directly to Xún and await further instructions. You will be docked with and boarded there."

"Acknowledged," Trapp said. "Setting course now. Twelve Alpha One, out."

" Xún?" Xiao asked.

"One of Xinjia's smaller moons. It's small, nothing on the surface. Gets its name because it shines brightly in the sunlight."

The small ship accelerated along her new course, and the nav computer announced that it would be a fifty-nine-hour flight. She groaned inwardly at this. The ship was small, they were almost out of food, and her only company seemed to have a one-track mind when it came to conversation.

At least the call from system traffic controllers had interrupted the conversation about Wolfe. She felt no pride in having deceived him the way she did even if it was in the line of duty. Wolfe hadn't even been her original mission, but she'd become stranded behind enemy lines and had to make the best of the situation. It was just blind luck that allowed her to break into the inner circle of the ESA's public enemy number one.

The problems started for her when she allowed herself to get too close to him. She began to empathize with his cause and that led her down a path she hadn't foreseen. If Wolfe wasn't the bad guy, then how should her side be the good guys? Her position allowed her access to Federation intelligence reports where she learned that the Phage War was likely started by an illegal colonization program based off the planet Xian. She also learned the ESA had conspired with an alien power, feeding them targets and intel that led to thousands of deaths at the hands of the Darshik.

The more she learned, the less enthusiastic she was for her role in undermining the Federation. What she'd come to realize is that both the United Terran Federation and the Eastern Star Alliance were both too flawed and corrupt to lead humanity going forward.

Far better they both fall than one side wins over the other.

24

"It looks like they unhooked it from everything except the standby power cable and were preparing to move it when we retook the ship, sir," Barton said quietly. "But nothing looks damaged or missing."

"You've got the techs hooking it back up and under guard?" Jackson asked.

"Yes, sir. Colonel Beck has a squad holding the vault access and the techs have all been cleared. They say it will take them just under an hour to get coolant and main power hooked back up."

"It should reinitialize on its own once it gets those. Call down and tell them to hook the data cables up in parallel to that work. There's no order of operations on the cable-up procedure so the faster they get them on, the faster we can verify it hasn't been compromised and get the hell out of here."

"Aye, sir."

Since Sam Trapp had been exposed as a double agent Jackson hadn't bothered to find another aide. In the absence of someone assigned to him, he was now leaning on Master Sergeant Barton to handle those tasks, something he knew the Marine was up to. Barton shouldered the additional duties with the easy professionalism Jackson had come to expect from him. To make sure there were no gaps in security he'd asked Colonel Beck to permanently assign Sergeant Schmidt to Jackson's detail.

The Nemesis had cleared the shipyard without incident and was now pushing hard to catch up with the Katana while the Broadsword and Cutlass also came about to join the formation. The conversation with the other captains had been productive after Risher had finished tripping over himself for his previous actions. Jackson had let him spin on the hook for a moment before telling him that he'd handled things well and that he was impressed with his decisive action in both instances.

He hadn't been lying to just smooth over a potential issue among his commanders. Back when he was a captain if the president contacted him directly and gave him an order, he would have done the exact thing Risher had done and followed it. The fact Risher was able to analyze things after the fact and admit he had made a mistake meant that he wasn't a total write-off as a shipmaster.

After a short debate, the group had decided that if Aegis was still viable, flying to Xinjia and attacking with overwhelming force would be their best bet. That had been the easy part to agree on. The real argument came when it was suggested by the Cutlass's CO that, in light of recent events, a strictly military victory would not likely secure their strategic goals. He'd suggested a kinetic strike on the capital city on Xinjia, an action that horrified the others.

Jackson had quickly taken the option off the table, but it had never left his mind since it had been mentioned. Would the actions of the ESA against the Federation mean that an in-kind strike against a populated planet was justified? Hitting the capital city with one of the Nemesis's mag-cannons would cut the head off the snake, but it would also kill hundreds of thousands of innocent people. The fact he couldn't automatically dismiss the idea of a strike that would be guaranteed to have high collateral damage disturbed him.

"Admiral Wolfe, Fleet Admiral Pitt is requesting you contact him over the direct Bluebird link, sir," the com officer said. "He said he is standing by at your convenience."

Jackson winced inwardly at that. Pitt was obviously annoyed he hadn't bothered to make contact after fighting his way off a Federation military installation.

"Understood," he said. "I'll be in the bridge briefing room. OPS what is the status of Colonel Beck's roundup?"

"Thirty-seven more found, sir," Hori said. "Engineering fixed the internal sensors so she said it's been easy locating and removing them."

When the boarding party had first come aboard, they'd used brute force to disable the ship's internal security systems. They'd hacked through data cables and shot holes in avionics boxes to make sure the crew couldn't act to repel them.

"Tell her I want the bastards off my ship in the next two hours. No excuses."

"Yes, sir."

He closed and locked the hatch to the briefing room, poured himself a fresh mug of coffee from the still-hot thermos on the sidebar, and activated the Bluebird Version 3 transceiver to connect it to its mated pair sitting in Admiral Pitt's office.

"Admiral Wolfe," Pitt said, accepting the channel request immediately. "Status?"

"Nemesis and Aegis are back under my control. We're cleaning out the contractors the people on Eternis Pax used to subdue the ship. We did minor damage to the docking arm when we left but kept the bloodshed to a minimum. I have reformed Taskforce Wolfpack and, once we verify Aegis's operational status, we'll be moving on to our next objective."

"Understood. You have Dr. Ito?"

"Yes, sir. He's secure aboard the ship. Ideally, we'd like to offload him to someone trustworthy at our earliest convenience. Any options available?"

"I'll talk to Admiral Wright. Prowler Fleet is likely your only viable option…CENTCOM has been compromised, Admiral. I'm afraid you will be receiving no help from our fleet. Can Aegis win this fight for you?"

"Yes," Jackson said with a confidence he didn't feel. "The numbers will be tight, but the Aegis command and control system will be the deciding factor. I'll also have the Nemesis and three other Super Valkyries at my disposal, hardly a force to sneer at."

"I'll keep you updated from here as best I can, but I think my days are numbered, Jackson," Pitt said. "I'm isolated here on my ship, but that only provides me so much security. When Mulhouse reached out directly to order Risher to intercept the Nemesis that was a strong indicator my office was being cut out of the chain of command. They declared Perez a deserter, for lack of a better term, and the Parliament fast-tracked moving Wren Ives up into the position. All decisions coming out of the president's office seem to be filtered through her."

"So, Ives is working with the Unity," Jackson said. "Makes sense. That takes the CIS off the board, but I think at this point in the game they're largely irrelevant."

"They're leadership structure is a lot more decentralized than the fleet's so not everyone will be onboard, but without access to the aggregated data from a central location that won't be helpful to you," Pitt said. "Expect to be going forward blind from here on out."

"We can work with that," Jackson said. "We'll be going dark. We won't be able to use the CIS's intel network, but they also won't know where we are or what we're doing."

"Smart move," Pitt said. "There's something else. I don't expect that they're going to let Earth remain a neutral, sovereign planet if they win."

"Understood," Jackson said. The thought of the Unity attacking the planet that his family was on—after they destroyed the one they had just fled—filled him with a white-hot rage the likes of which he'd rarely experienced in his life. A soft chime from his earpiece snapped him out it and back into the moment. "Go ahead."

"Admiral, I am online and fully functional," Aegis reported.

"Standby," Jackson said, pulling his comlink from his pocket and putting it on the table. "I'm putting you on live with Fleet Admiral Pitt."

"Greetings, Admiral Pitt."

"Aegis," Pitt said. "You survived the attempted hijacking intact?"

"I have indeed. Admiral Wolfe wisely put me into a maintenance cycle so when primary power was removed there were no induced errors that needed correcting. I am ready to serve."

"So this brings up an ugly prospect. Aegis, you're bound by design to accept the orders of the duly elected commander in chief, and then down the chain of command from there. Am I correct?" Pitt asked.

"That is correct, Admiral."

"Mulhouse is technically the legally appointed president regardless of how suspicious Marcum's death appears to be," Pitt said.

"Yes, sir," Jackson said. "Unfortunately in the attempted hijacking, our com system was damaged, and the Bluebird connection to CENTCOM has been severed."

"This is your workaround?" Pitt asked skeptically. "Aegis?"

"Since I have received no stand down order from the new president, I am still operating under the full authorization of the late President Marcum. As long as Admiral Wolfe intends to repair the connection at his earliest opportunity at the conclusion of our current mission, I am still able to retain full functionality."

"Yeah, I'll get that fixed when we get the chance," Jackson said. "Could be a while."

"Parameters do not specify a time limit, only that it is scheduled," Aegis said.

The controls that Project Prometheus had put on Aegis were not hard and fast. Since it was a semi-sentient machine—though it would argue it was fully sentient—just adding limits it couldn't exceed didn't work. It defeated the purpose of building it in the first place, and it ended up finding ways around them every time they tried. What they found was that if they created a flexible framework that it wanted to work within they could impose strict controls on it in a way that it not only didn't fight against, but eagerly agreed to.

Aegis understood they weren't honoring the chain of command in good faith. If it wanted, it could power down the Mickey fleet and refuse to cooperate until they restored its connection to CENTCOM. What made it unique was that it had not only the usual directives of following the orders of its superiors, it also had a moral framework it operated within and could push those against each other when determining what action to take. So, while it wouldn't flat out deny the orders of President Mulhouse, it was content to be told that the president was unavailable despite it knowing damn good and well that wasn't completely true.

"I understand you have an ESA force sitting in the system," Pitt said. "Any chance you could eliminate them before leaving?"

"I wouldn't want to risk a confrontation when we're so badly outnumbered, sir," Jackson said. "The Mickey fleet isn't here, so it's just the taskforce against however many ended up coming through the jump point. The good news is that once we leave, they're out of the fight. We'll be at our next destination weeks ahead of them."

"I assume that fleet was sent to collect you and Aegis," Pitt said. "Rumors that I'm getting are that Mulhouse cut a deal. If the Unity wins the war, part of the terms are they get you. I'd imagine you'd be subjected to a show trial, and then some grisly death for your crimes against humanity."

"You still getting good intel out of Philadelphia, sir?"

"I have my sources. Regardless of my reputation I didn't get to this office by not cultivating my own network of informants," Pitt said. "The fact the politicians think I'm just some doddering old war relic that should be in a museum only helps me on that front. I'm not pretending I'm some spymaster, but I've collected enough to know that Wren Ives is calling the shots and Mulhouse is in this up to his neck, if somewhat reluctantly."

"That won't save him when the time comes," Jackson said. "If we win the coming fight and take the Unity's leadership and warfighting capability off the table, we will need to deal with our own traitors, sir, and it looks like there are a lot of them."

"One battle at a time, Admiral," Pitt said. "Now go. Get the hell out of that system before they try and cut you off. I'm not sure who is moving what, or to where. All I know is that there are a lot of Fleet units that are no longer responding to CENTCOM orders."

"We'll be long gone, sir," Jackson assured him. "If I don't speak to you again before all of this—"

"You will," Pitt insisted. "You can tell me, then."

"Yes, sir. Nemesis, out."

"The odds of overall success have just dropped dramatically," Aegis said once the channel closed. "I had not realized how corrupt the Federation's elected government had become. At this point, the Unity is just as integrated into our system as it is into the Alliance's. It's difficult to delineate between the two now and just destroying the Alliance component does not guarantee the Unity assets within the Federation still could not succeed."

"You're just a ray of fucking sunshine, aren't you?" Jackson groaned.

He took a quiet moment to himself and sipped his coffee, thinking about all the things that could go wrong with the upcoming op. They were going to try and take the fight right to the enemy's doorstep before they had a chance to reorganize their fleet and possibly deploy for a strike against Earth. The Earth Defense Force was a formidable war fleet…on paper.

Jackson knew, however, that they had spent the entirety of their existence flying patrols within their own borders. They'd never engaged in real combat or fought an enemy that wasn't part of a readiness exercise. Their ships were dated, their crews lacking experience, and they were overconfident about their fortified position.

Earth's fleet did have a numerical advantage over any fleet the Alliance might try to fly all the way to the Solar System and mount an attack with. Would that be enough to deter them for now? Alliance Fleet Command was notoriously timid and, prior to Vadim Kohl's rise to prominence, had only engaged when they were absolutely assured victory. Whoever was in charge of their operation at the moment might look at Earth as too much risk for potentially no reward.

Still…

Aegis had the capability of running multiple theaters of operation simultaneously. The machine sitting in the Nemesis's secure vault didn't actually need to be near the fight thanks to Bluebird so Jackson could feasibly split his forces and send one to bolster Earth's defenses and hope the other would break the Unity's fleet at Xinjia.

"Aegis, if you sent a ship to Earth, would CENTCOM be able to directly communicate to you via that ship?"

"Affirmative. CENTCOM command-level communications would be given priority. Anything broadcast on that channel and received by one of my ships would be no different than if inputted manually at the terminal," Aegis said.

"That's what I thought," Jackson sighed, not appreciating the added complication to his dilemma. If he split his forces—something he wasn't sure wouldn't just lose him both battles—then President Mulhouse would have the perfect opportunity to re-assert control over Aegis.

"Would you like my advice, Admiral?"

"Strange that you're even asking but go ahead."

"You cannot win a multi-front battle, even with me. If you divide the fleet, you will likely lose both. The best chance we have of ending this decisively is to adhere to the original plan and neutralize the Terran Unity's seat of power. The fall of Xinjia will be a decisive blow, likely crippling."

"The numbers break down that dramatically on either side so that a multi-front operation is doomed to fail? Or is there some margin of error you're withholding?"

"There is a margin of error automatically built into any predictive analysis. However, after seven-thousand-five-hundred simulations I can conclude that splitting the Mickey fleet will only give you a seventeen percent chance of victory for either."

"And if we hit Xinjia en force?" Jackson asked.

"A forty-four percent chance of victory. The variables there break in your favor, however. If Vadim Kohl is commanding the enemy force, your odds increase to seventy-nine percent, for example. I've sent a full breakdown to your personal server for review."

The damned machine was right. If he split his forces out of fear of what might happen to Earth, he would lose. If he took his entire force to Earth as a defensive measure, he would also lose. President Mulhouse would seize control of Aegis, and then would likely act as a proxy so the Unity could use the weapon to finish off the Federation.

In the end, there wasn't really a choice. He was just playing mental gymnastics trying to find a way to reduce the risk of his home to zero and still win the war, something that just wasn't possible. He would have to trust the Earth Defense Force to do their job long enough for him to do his.

"Bridge to Admiral Wolfe."

"Go," Jackson said.

"Sir, Captain Barrett is out of his first surgery. Commander Dulan said he is still unconscious, but stable."

"That is most welcome news, Commander Hori. Tell Dr. Dulan I will be down shortly to talk to him."

He stood up, a weight he hadn't even known was there lifting at the news one of his closest friends was past the immediate danger. Losing Barrett when getting ready to take the taskforce into battle was an enormous blow, but he fully expected the crew of the Nemesis to rise to the occasion and pick up the slack.

25

"I can ping the ship itself, but I can't get past that."

"What could that mean?" Admiral Wright asked.

"It could mean there was an internal malfunction, which is unlikely, or it could mean that, somehow, they found the damn ship and, when they started banging around on it, the failsafes kicked in and wiped the computers," Pike said. "Either way, I'm not seeing anything past the Bluebird box on that end."

"They could have taken the box out," Jair Perez said. For a man who had just learned he had been replaced and declared a criminal by his government, he looked amazingly relaxed.

"I had it rigged. If it was taken out of the rack it would have blown the ship," Pike said. "It's doubtful they could have found my trigger switch, much less disarmed it."

"Is it actually important you get access to the ship?" Perez asked. "We're able to talk to pretty much everybody in play from this Prowler."

"Not everybody," Pike said. "Vincent Russo has a covert Bluebird unit that's paired to one that was in the Broadhead. I've left him high and dry…right in the belly of the beast. I should have just had him extracted on Xinjia when I had the chance instead of letting him convince himself to go back in."

"Why would he do that?" Celesta asked.

"Guilt. He was on Vadim's ship when the Odmena massacre happened. He thinks it's his fault he didn't find a way to stop it and now he's looking for absolution. The shitty thing is he won't even get that since whatever intel he's providing is sitting in a message buffer."

"There's no secondary contact protocols in place?" Perez asked. Pike just shook his head.

"We should have risked sending me back down for the Broadhead," he said.

"Impractical," Celesta said. "I don't even like that we left Pitt and Jillian behind, but if we started pulling in people and resources it would have given us away. We were all being watched very closely."

"So what's our current plan other than to hide out on this ship?" Pike asked. "No offense, Admiral. It's a delightful vessel for a Prowler-class, but eventually we will need to find safe harbor for fuel and food."

"I don't think we should be contacting anybody within the Federation government right now," Perez said. "If they've burned me we have to assume none of us would be safe if we went back, nor would the people we might contact. Let's be smart about this. I want to help, but I don't want to throw our lives away in a misguided blaze of glory."

"What assets do we have available that are loyal to us that we could call in?" Pike asked. "I'm pretty much out. When I was Aston Lynch I had some access and clout, but as some rundown, burned out Agent I don't have jack shit to offer but a plucky, can-do attitude and my… Oh, shit!"

"What?" Celesta asked.

"The Bluebird network… The com ships…they were re-deployed from the Solar System and sent out on long-haul patrols to keep them safe."

"And?" Perez asked.

"I have backdoor access to three of those ships and a close friendship with the captain of one," Pike said. "If we relocate our operation here aboard one of those ships—"

"We can tap in and monitor all the communications coming out of Earth," Perez finished. "Nice."

"Wait, how the hell would we even begin? And how would that work on just one ship?" Celesta asked.

"Each ship maintains a high-bandwidth pipe with all of the other ships for full redundancy. All com traffic is sorted and stored on servers on them all giving us nine identical copies of anything sent over our network," Perez explained. "When we commissioned the new generation of com ship, we added an additional capability. There are massive processing centers on each capable of digging through the slush pile and mining out what we need."

"That seems…a little—"

"Nobody had access to it without a court order," Pike said as Celesta looked disgusted at what they were telling her. "Any intel or law enforcement agency that wanted access had to show legitimate need to a judicial panel before they were given a temporary code key. The capability was added after we'd discovered how easily the ESA had infiltrated and turned one of our most secret and potent weapons against us."

"I suppose it's no different than what we do on planetside com networks," she conceded. "So, how do we get one of these code keys?"

"I have a universal key I had programmed in as CIS Director in case of an emergency," Perez said. "Wren Ives won't know about it since she doesn't know it exists. She does know about the snooper program, or at least she was briefed about it. Whether she remembers or not is another matter."

"So we link up with one of the com ships, access this backdoor snooper, and…then what?" Celesta asked.

"We start building a case against Mulhouse, Ives, and anybody else that had anything to do with selling out the Federation or the assassination of Joseph Marcum." Perez's eyes were bright, and he sat at the edge of his seat, a marked difference from the tired, listless man that had walked into the cramped office twenty minutes ago.

"Once we can do that, we'll be in a position to capitalize on Wolfe's victory over the Unity's military arm."

"You're that confident Wolfe can pull it off with what he has?" Pike asked. "From what we're hearing, the bulk of the fleet is still dispersed and doesn't seem to be going anywhere. Odessa sent a token force after Jack smacked them in the nose, but that sure as hell isn't the bulk of 4th Fleet's ships."

"He should have everything he needs as long as he's maintained control of Aegis," Perez said. "That little display in the Odessa System was just a warmup. What that system is capable of is truly awesome and terrifying. If the Unity fleet is foolish enough to bunch up where he can unleash its full force on them, this will be a battle unlike anything we've seen since the Phage showed up and nearly wiped us out. One thing we will need to do is find a way to give Pitt fair warning we're back in play."

"I'll handle that," Pike said, standing up to leave. "I'll also get started on getting us a com ship. Let's hope the captain still likes me."

"That's usually the wrinkle in most of your plans," Celesta agreed.

"I just have one of those personalities, you know?" Pike smiled and ducked out before she could respond.

"Admiral Pitt, you understand this is most unorthodox. We don't do things like this on Earth. It would be preferable for all parties involved if you'd send any requests on communiques through your EDF liaison. The people here are already on edge by your presence in our skies."

"I fully understand and sympathize with that sentiment, Madam President," Pitt said. "Unfortunately, what I have to say can only be for your ears, and it's of a nature so sensitive that if my people learn I'm discussing it with you I'll be arrested and stripped of my rank."

President Annika Falk was a stoic, intimidating woman. Pitt had met her a few times at official functions after Marcum and Wolfe had brokered a protection treaty with Earth and even in those casual interactions he knew she was not someone to be underestimated. She certainly wasn't someone who should be toyed with or lied to, so he opted for the direct approach.

"You have my attention," she said, motioning him to continue.

"President Falk, I'm not here as the representative of the United Terran Federation and surely not at the behest or even knowledge of President Mulhouse," Pitt began. "We have credible evidence the Federation has been infiltrated and compromised by the same cabal that has seized control of the ESA. This cabal has turned the two nations upon each other with the intent of letting them destroy each other so they can rule over the remnants and rebuild human space according to their wishes."

"Our analysts have concluded much the same," Falk said. "You say you have evidence?"

"Circumstantial at the moment, but we have a plan in place to build an airtight case," Pitt said. "We think that our own people were behind the assassination of Joseph Marcum, and we also have reason to believe that Earth will not be left alone once the Terran Unity fully gets their legs under them."

"So you have brought war to us, Admiral?" Falk asked.

"I'm afraid this was inevitable, Madam President," Pitt said. "We may have accelerated the timeline, but a free and independent Earth was never something they would allow to exist. They will accept nothing short of full control."

"Is this where you pitch a plan that involves us giving you control of our defense fleet to fight back this menace?" Falk asked.

"Absolutely not," Pitt said. "The EDF should remain here, under command of Earth's leadership, and kept on high alert until this threat is dealt with. Admiral Wolfe is moving now to neutralize the ESA's warfighting capability, thus denying the Unity those resources."

"I must confess I'm a little confused, Admiral," she said. "If Wolfe is able to defeat the ESA on his own, and you don't need our fleet, then why are you here speaking to me?"

"The ESA threat is only half the problem. As I mentioned, both nations have been compromised," Pitt said. "Since the Federation exists on Earth right now—"

"You will need our permission to rout out your traitors," Falk said, nodding.

"Actually, Madam President, we had something else in mind entirely."

26

"We have a six-ship formation pushing down to cut us off. Intercept in sixteen hours at present speed and heading."

"Ignore them," Jackson said. "They're trying to force us to shallow out so their heavy hitters will have time to form a picket along the Fed jump points. Those are all light cruisers. The Alliance commander won't throw them away trying to pit them against four destroyers."

Taskforce Wolfpack had reformed, and all four destroyers were coming up the well in a diamond formation at a stately pace, letting the Alliance commander show his hand. Jackson could have ordered a warp hop out of the area, and the enemy commander was well-aware of that, too, so now they would take a slow pass by each other to see if anything interesting happened.

The delay in leaving Eternis Pax also gave Aegis the time it needed to reorganize itself. It established connection with its fleet again and, surprising Jackson, the ships were as they had left them. He assumed that someone from Odessa would have ordered an exploratory mission when their high-power scans showed the entire fleet just sitting in their outer system. Now, the entire force was underway and a countdown timer on the main display told Jackson how many days until they reached the target. Given how far they had to fly, he could afford to indulge in a little cat and mouse here and tie up these ESA ships before they would need to be in warp flight on the way to Xinjia.

"Admiral, Commander Dulan said that Captain Barrett is awake, sir," the second watch OPS officer said. Commander Hori had been ordered a full day of downtime after she'd pulled three consecutive twelve-hour watches.

"Tell him I'm on the way down, Lieutenant," Jackson said. "Commander Weston, you have command. Just stay at tactical since I won’t be long.”

“I have the ship, aye.” Weston answered without looking up from his displays. Jackson waved to Sergeant Schmidt to follow him as he left the bridge.

Colonel Beck had cleared the ship and loaded all the interlopers onto two lifeboats. Flight OPS disabled their drives and ejected them into space with their beacons lit. The crew at the shipyard would have to send a tug out to collect their people. There was no practical reason to leave them without propulsion other than it added many hours of discomfort to their time aboard the lifeboats. It was petty, but the entire crew was still irate for what went down aboard the Nemesis, and Jackson allowed them to indulge in a little payback.

Jackson moved quickly through the ship, nodding to crew as he passed. He knew Barrett would be out of action for the duration of the coming battle and, if he was stable enough to move, hoped to load him on a shuttle and send him back to Eternis Pax. Once the Nemesis left the system there was little doubt the ESA ships would immediately follow. Barrett would continue to receive medical treatment and wouldn't be forced to experience a battle from his ship's infirmary.

"Admiral," Commander Dulan said as they walked into the medical section. The ship's chief medical officer looked more tired than Jackson could ever remember seeing him. "He's awake but, please, limit your visit to fifteen minutes or less. The more he can sleep, the better his prognosis will be for a full recovery…or at least as full as it will ever be."

"What do you mean?" Jackson asked.

"One of those shots hit his spine, and the spinal cord itself was damaged," Dulan said. "I'm not yet able to determine if it can be repaired, but I do know I don't have the equipment or specialists aboard this ship to do it. Right now, he can't move or feel his legs along with some other less pleasant symptoms of a lower spinal injury."

"But you think there's a chance it could be repaired?"

"The computer is giving him less than a twenty percent chance of walking again," Dulan said. "That being said, the computer is limited by the scanning equipment I have at my disposal, and it does tend to err on the pessimistic side when it comes to diagnosing something so severe."

"That didn't answer my question," Jackson said.

"My answer is, given the information I have at the moment, I don't know," Dulan said irritably. "But I feel it isn't likely."

"How about moving him?" Jackson asked. "We could put him on a shuttle and send him back to Eternis Pax. Are their facilities up to the task?"

"It's a major shipyard, so they'll have a more comprehensive med center than a starship will," Dulan said evasively. "I couldn't say if they have the type of specialists aboard that Captain Barrett would need to have a chance at recovery."

"So are you advising me that I should or should not transport Captain Barrett back to the Eternis Pax Shipyard Facility, Doctor?" Jackson asked, rubbing his eyes. "Bearing in mind that this ship will soon be in combat, of course."

"I have him stabilized. If you can find a fast ship to take him directly back to Earth, I would support that but, otherwise, I prefer to have my patient remain in my care, Admiral."

"Very well," Jackson said. He wasn't sure he agreed, but he also wasn't a doctor and felt the most prudent thing to do was to trust that Commander Dulan had weighed every option and was giving him the best-chance option for Barrett's recovery.

"Remember, Admiral, fifteen minutes," Dulan said as Jackson moved past him towards the trauma ward.

"Admiral," Barrett croaked when Jackson walked in.

"Captain," Jackson said, sitting down so they were at eye level with each other. "The doctor tells me you've got spinal damage, but he's not sure it's permanent. There's only so much a warship's infirmary can do with something like that so I'm going to try and see if we can arrange transport for you back to Earth. If I can't, I'm afraid you'll be stuck on the Nemesis as I take her into combat."

"I want to remain on my ship, sir," Barrett said. "Even if it's being stuck in here, shitting in a bucket and having my food pumped in through a tube." Jackson raised an eyebrow at that comment.

"It isn't just my legs affected by that round. The plumbing is all screwed up, too."

"Listen, Captain—Michael—if there's even a chance a specialized medical unit can fix this, we have to try," Jackson said. "The longer you lay in here, the less likely it is they would be able to."

"Admiral, there isn't any chance this can be fixed. I think I can accept that. What I can't accept is being put ashore right before this ship—my ship—heads into what could be her final mission. I'm not asking for anything ridiculous like being rolled up onto the bridge, just the courtesy of remaining aboard. She's earned that much from me."

Jackson hated that he understood and agreed with his friend's decision. He wanted to tell Barrett the choice wasn't his and have Commander Dulan begin prepping him for transport, but that would be a disservice to a man who had fought bravely at his side since the opening shots of the Phage War all those years ago.

"I understand, Captain. You'll remain here with your ship and her crew."

"Thank you, sir," Barrett said, his head sinking into the pillow and tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "This is a bum fucking deal, but it's the risk we take when we do what we do. Still, I never actually thought that I might get shot of all things."

"It wasn't high on my list, either," Jackson said. "To be honest, I figured I'd run the clock out flying the Blue Jacket as a glorified shuttle service for government VIPs, and then retire…probably crap out my liver from alcoholism a few years later." Barrett smiled at that.

"You and I have come a long way together, sir," he said. "I still remember the tactical officer that froze up on the bridge of that ship…and the captain who gave him a second chance to do his job right. Thank you for standing by me then, sir, and for doing the same now. If I can't be on the bridge, there's nobody else I would want than you."

"I don't remember you being so sentimental, Captain."

"It's all these goddamn drugs Dulan is pumping into me. Can't control my emotions any better than I can my legs right now."

"Don't worry. I won't tell the crew you actually have any." Jackson stood up. "I'll have Hawkins prep a tile with a feed from CIC so you can at least monitor the operation assuming that's okay with Dulan. Won't be the same as being on the bridge, but at least you'll be in the loop."

"Better than nothing," Barrett agreed. "Don't worry about me, sir. Just make sure we win."

Jackson walked out of the ward feeling both better and worse than before he'd went in. Losing Barrett was a hit. The taskforce was less effective without him commanding the Nemesis, and it now tied Jackson up being a ship commander. As capable as Commander Hori was, he didn't think this mission should be her first real-world test commanding a ship in combat.

"Less than ten minutes," Dulan said. "Thank you, Admiral. He really does need his rest. You reached a decision?"

"He'll remain aboard in your care, Commander," Jackson said. "Do what you can for him and I'll do my best to get to a planetside facility, but understand that as much as I care about Captain Barrett, that is a secondary concern."

"Understood, Admiral," Dulan said.

"Sergeant, we're going down to secure storage four. We need to check on our VIP in the vault and make sure everything is as it should be," Jackson said to Schmidt.

"Yes, sir."

The vaults within the secure storage area were a disaster. Five hatches were badly damaged, which led Jackson to believe the enemy's intel wasn't so good that they knew the details of what was happening on the ship. They rightly assumed Aegis would be stored in this section of the ship, but they had no idea which one it was in so they had to start cutting through doors. It also meant the crew hadn't given them any access codes while they were aboard, which was also a good sign.

The fifth armored hatch they had forced their way through was the one their prize had been behind. When he walked in, Aegis had been moved back onto its transit sled and the once-neat cabling to the unit was a haphazard snake nest on the deck. There were five crewmembers in the cramped vault, three techs and two Marines.

"Attention on—"

"At ease!" Jackson waved the enthusiastic junior enlisted back to her task. "What's the story down here?"

"All external connections are reestablished," the chief petty officer at the console reported. "We're now moving to secure the machine back to the deck and clean up the cabling mess our would-be thieves left for us. You're fully functional, sir. Just doing the housekeeping now."

As per Jackson's orders, Aegis remained silent while the technicians from both engineering and com shop worked to get it resituated. The less people who knew what the black monolith was the better for everyone. The crew had been told it was an advanced tactical computer on loan from Fleet R&S, which was essentially the truth.

He was about to give further instruction to the crew when his comlink chimed with a priority alert. The device screen said he needed to contact the bridge immediately, but there were no general alarms sounding. He slipped his earpiece in, frowning.

"Bridge," he said, waiting for it to connect. "Go for Wolfe."

"Sir, the ESA fleet is breaking off pursuit. They're all coming about and moving back towards the jump point they came in through," OPS reported.

"Was this move synchronized?" Jackson asked.

"No, sir. CIC indicates the order likely was broadcast via standard radio from a heavy cruiser loitering near the jump point."

"Understood. I'm on my way back up. Alert the taskforce that we'll be departing the system early and to prepare for an intermediate warp hop to get us to the New Sierra jump point," Jackson said.

"Understood, Admiral. OPS, out."

"Keep getting this cleaned up," Jackson said. "I'll check back in once we're out of this system."

"Aye-aye, Admiral."

Jackson walked back to the lifts with Sergeant Schmidt shadowing his steps, his mouth set in a grim line. He had no doubt the ESA force, unable to achieve their objective here, would fly directly back to Xinjia. The Unity had helpfully consolidated their forces in one system hoping to fortify it with strength of numbers.

Now, he would unleash the full power of Aegis. One way or another, this was the end of a pointless and costly war.

27

"He took his ships to the New Sierra jump point when our forces lost contact."

"You're not seriously thinking he's heading home, are you?" Makov asked.

"Possibly, but not likely," Chan said. "He's heading here. Don't you agree, Agent Trapp?"

"He's heading here," Trapp agreed. "This sort of simple misdirection isn't meant to actually fool you, it's meant to spawn these sorts of debates. It's just obvious enough that we won't know if he's really heading home or if he's coming here."

"But you think he's coming here?" Pak asked. The shipbuilding magnate had finally made his way to Xinjia now that the Unity had secured their hold over the Eastern Star Alliance. He was just in time to reap the rewards but not so early as to have actually been in any danger, as per his usual.

"I assure you, he is," Trapp said. She wasn't in restraints, but the pair of armed troopers standing directly behind her made it clear she wasn't fully back in the fold…if she ever really was to begin with.

"Will he come directly here?" Chan asked. When Trapp didn't answer right away, he turned to stare at her. "Come now, Agent Trapp, you spent the better part of three years with this man. What do you think he'll do?"

"He won't try and marshal a larger fleet, if that's what you're asking," Trapp said. "He'll come here with Taskforce Wolfpack and rely on the stealth and warp hop capabilities of the Super Valkyries to avoid our forces and deliver a crippling blow. He may even be intending an orbit-to-surface strike on the capital despite his aversion to such tactics. What he won't want to do is put more Fed spacers at risk when the numbers still favor us."

"What is your opinion of Admiral Xiao?" Makov asked. "He helped you escape, did he not?"

"More like I helped him but, yes, we escaped together from a CIS black site," she said. "I'm not sure what you're asking me, sir. I have no idea what his conduct was like as a captive but I can tell you he wasn't receiving any special treatment. He was in the same type of cell I was and in restraints. On the flight home, he seemed committed to returning and finding a way in which he could serve."

"So you don't think Admiral Wolfe will return to Earth? Even if ordered by his leadership?" Chan asked.

"No chance," Trapp insisted. "He's coming here. If CENTCOM tries to recall him, he'll ignore them. He's done it before."

"Are we satisfied?" Makov asked. He spoke to everyone else in the room.

"I still think this is foolish," Chan said.

"Noted," Makov said. "But I'd like her at least nearby as an advisor. You wanted to see if she had been compromised. Her answers indicate she is still on our side."

Trapp realized immediately what she was in the middle of, and she also realized it wasn't over. Nothing they were saying was happenstance. Makov was deliberately letting her know she was being tested before allowed back into his circle. The others, playing their part, would pretend to grudgingly accept that she was there, and then ignore her. Makov would then assign multiple people to keep an eye on her and track her every move. If she did anything that looked like it was meant to warn Wolfe off the trap they'd set for his ships, she would be executed on the spot.

They wanted any insights she might have about Wolfe's probable tactics when inserting his forces into the Xinjia System. Once the Nemesis appeared and the battle was met, they would still likely kill her as she would move from asset to liability rather quickly. For the next several weeks she would need to be careful to not be seen near any long-haul com terminals or making any other suspicious moves. Things were unrolling more or less as she'd predicted.

Makov, Chan, and Pak were ruthless and calculating, but they were still politicians at heart. The one person within the inner circle she was worried most about appeared to not even be on the planet. Ella Ersk was the one she had least wanted to interact with. Ersk was a cold-blooded operative that most likely wouldn't have thought the risk of a possible double agent being around acceptable and taken steps herself.

"Agent Trapp, you're to be assigned to my office in the role of technical advisor for the time being," Makov said. "When you're called, you will appear and offer any insights you have from your experience during your time in the Federation fleet. Understood?"

"Anything I can do to help," Trapp said. "It'll be nice to have my feet on solid ground for a while at least."

"Of course," Makov said, already turning away from her. "Enjoy the capital while you're here."

Trapp understood that as a dismissal and turned to leave. The troopers who had been watching her stepped aside and let her pass, not following her out into the hallway as she had expected. She made it all the way out through the multiple security checkpoints before an aide ran up behind her calling her name.

"Agent Trapp! You walk fast."

"Can I help you?"

"Here is your comlink and security access badge." He handed her a large, sealed envelope. "Keep both on you at all times, no excuses. They're biometrically linked to you already, and internal security will get an alert if either gets further away from your person than five meters for any more than fifteen seconds. Any questions?"

"No," Trapp said, turning the envelope over. "Thank you."

"Remember what I said…fifteen seconds."

The comlink was obviously tied into their monitoring system. Alliance Intelligence had used the same tricks to monitor people, albeit with a more subtle touch. The warning about being separated from the device was clear: If she tried to slip away from the active monitoring for more than fifteen seconds, there would be consequences.

She opened the envelope and slipped the comlink and card into a pocket, tossing the envelope on the security desk and leaving the building. Quarters had been arranged for her on the governmental compound. She'd been there once before, and it had been picturesque in its beauty. Now, it was an ugly, threatening place with regular military troops patrolling the streets.

From what she'd gathered, the Alliance Council was still alive but not permitted to leave or communicate freely with the outside world. The state-controlled media was presenting the whole coup as simply a minor restructuring of the bureaucracy on Xinjia. The people had just lost what little control they had over their own government and practically nobody was aware of it. They certainly had no idea the Alliance had just depopulated four Federation planets and a retaliatory force was on its way.

Trapp hoped Admiral Xiao was similarly successful. They had been separated, and it would be far too dangerous to attempt to meet up now that they were both being watched. The pair had made their plans as best they could and tried to cover every possible contingency, but now they would each need to play their parts independent of each other. She's made sure to not give Xiao too much detail about what she planned. He wasn't an intelligence operative, and she couldn't risk him buckling under interrogation.

They both had their own little roles to play in this drama. Hopefully, when the time came, she'd be able to strike a blow that meant something. Her feelings of shame and revulsion hadn't diminished since they'd left the remains of the planet New Sierra behind them. If anything, she felt more determined than ever to make sure if her name was remembered, it was remembered for fighting back.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"That's not the word I would use," Russo said, turning to look at Ersk. The pair were standing in the upper observation lounge just below the main bridge. "Terrifying. Alien. But not beautiful."

Abyss had been brought back to Xinjia and was now in a holding orbit over the planet itself. The control systems on the weapon weren't terribly evolved, but the scientists attached to the project insisted that it would be able to operate close to a planet's gravity well without issue. Once it had arrived in the system it was towed down and inserted into orbit as the order of Councilman Makov. The Unity cabal had been so giddy when Abyss had shown up they flew out on an executive courier to get a firsthand look at it.

The trio of power players from the new government took the science staff, the command and control apparatus for the weapon functions, and whisked them back to Xinjia where they'd fortified the government district of the capital city. When they'd been aboard the Koshmar they talked exclusively to Ersk, ignoring Russo completely and not bothering to inquire whether Kohl was even still alive.

The navigation remote for Abyss's limited real-space propulsion system had been left aboard, and the machine's warp drive cradle had been removed completely. Chan in particular seemed completely paranoid someone would try to steal the damn thing despite being told repeatedly it would take over a month to reach a jump point under its own power.

"Not everything must be beautiful in the conventional sense for it to be appreciated," Ersk said, looking Russo up and down. "Must it, Captain?"

"I suppose not." Russo wasn't sure if she was talking about Abyss, herself, or him. She'd made some overt advanced towards him on the flight to the Xinjia System he'd managed to gracefully rebuff, but now that she'd decided to remain aboard the Koshmar even after Makov and the others had come and gone sent a cold chill up his spine. Either she really did have a thing for him or she knew who he really was and was just fucking with him before she slit his throat in his sleep. He actually wasn't sure which of those two scenarios he was more afraid of.

"Where will the Koshmar be deployed once Wolfe's forces come into the system?" Ersk asked.

"Commodore Kohl has not yet decided," Russo said. "I expect him to reach a decision soon."

"How long must we keep this farce going, Captain?" she asked. "Kohl is a borderline invalid. He has made no decisions since you flew out to retrieve Abyss. I have had an eye on you for some time, and I could boost your career…if that's what you want. You helped us, and we can help you. Why should you be doing the work of an admiral without the benefit of wearing stars?"

"We still have one battle left to win, Ms. Ersk," Russo said. "Jackson Wolfe is not stupid. He won't make this easy. When that task is complete, then I would be happy to sit with you and talk about what opportunities I might have within the Unity."

"Your dedication to your task is admirable," she said. "We will talk soon. I'll be leaving tomorrow to join the leadership in the command center. I will require you to move the ship so that it is a reasonable shuttle flight to the surface."

"We're right over the planet," Russo said, confused.

"And our command center is not on the planet," Ersk said. "We have built a hardened, hidden facility on Golden Major." Russo frowned. Golden Major was one of the moons orbiting the fourth planet in the system. The Xinjians loved their secret moon bases. Wolfe's forces had blown one up the last time he was here. Some facility on a moon of the second planet.

"That's not a short flight. We will need to depart immediately if you wish to be there tomorrow," he said.

"Then I suggest you get to the bridge, Captain. You know where to find me if you need me."

Russo nodded and left the lounge without another word, his mind spinning. The cabal was taking steps in case Wolfe made it through and tried to hit Xinjia with an orbital strike. Now, if Wolfe did cross that final line, not only would he be killing untold civilians, he wouldn't even kill his intended targets.

It also meant, that for all their bluster and boasting, the Unity leadership was afraid of Wolfe for some reason. They were in a fortified system with a numerically superior fleet and an alien superweapon, and they still felt they needed to crawl into a spider hold…just in case.

"Captain! How might I be of service, sir?" the Koshmar's overly-chipper second officer asked as he walked onto the bridge.

"Ship movement, Commander. We're taking the Koshmar to Golden Major. Plot our course to put us in orbit over the moon within one day for a passenger drop off."

"A drop off?" the lieutenant commander asked. "Wouldn't that be more suited to a—"

"Would you like to call down to the capital and tell them you're in charge now, Commander?" Russo asked. "We have been tasked to deliver one of our VIPs to a sensitive strategic location. Is that going to be a problem for you?"

"N-no! Of course not, sir! I was merely making conversation. I apologize for my outburst. Navigation! Prepare to break orbit and make course for Golden Major. Standard departure, and then full burn once we've cleared the last holding orbit."

"Forgive my rudeness, Commander," Russo said. "These last weeks have been…taxing." Russo wasn't a CO known for a heavy-handed command style. It was one of the reasons he'd been able to maintain the ruse of being a competent shipmaster for so long. He was generous with praise and recognition, helping his people get promoted quickly when he could. As a result, everyone who came to work under him gladly took up the slack.

"I certainly understand, Captain. The whole crew is on edge. But they'll do their jobs as they always do."

"Of that, I'm certain, Commander. You are clear to move the ship at your discretion. Carry on."

"Aye-aye, sir!"

"Commander, while I'm here I think I'd like to familiarize myself with the nav panel for the construct," Russo said, running his hand over the hastily installed control panel for Abyss's subluminal engines and attitude controls. "I need to at least have a working knowledge of everything on my bridge."

"I'll have one of the engineers brought up at once to train you, sir."

"You took one hell of a risk coming here, Pike. You know Ives has the whole damn service looking for you? You've been burned, my friend. Declared a traitor and tossed to the wolves."

"Burned?" Pike was genuinely surprised. "Seems excessive. Thanks for agreeing to this, Luna. I don't know how to—"

"It's Captain Flores, ex-Agent Pike. I'm doing this because I think you're probably right, not as a favor. So, what's the plan?"

"Captain Flores, I'm Admiral Wright," Celesta stepped forward. "We have developed a search algorithm based on the simple cipher encryption we know the Alliance was using through Bluebird for some time. As a place to start, we'd like to begin digging out those communications and cross checking them with destination addresses within the Federation."

"Hadn't that already been done?" Flores asked. "Seems like the most logical thing to do once you know a system is compromised."

"The fact all the messages have been stored and catalogued isn't something widely known," Perez spoke up. "Former Director Jair Perez, Captain. Wren Ives wasn't aware of the program. She hadn't been cleared for it at the time we implemented it."

"Since she hasn't ordered us to purge those servers, I'm guessing she still doesn't know," Flores said. "How long do you think this will take? Keeping us in real-space with a Prowler docked to our airlock is a risk."

"The data crawler we developed will do its job relatively quickly," Pike said. "Six or seven hours to identify and transfer anything it sees as interesting. After that, we'll take it back to our ship for a more in-depth analysis. This is just a grab and dash."

"Highly illegal, but I suppose we're past that already. This way."

Captain Flores led them through the guts of the information routing systems aboard the Light Foot. The ship had been outfitted for a much larger crew than she had currently because the first iterations of Bluebird still required a lot of manual control. Now, the automated systems had caught up, and the ship had gone from a crew of nine-hundred and eleven to just over one-hundred and fifty. The only people left were the crew to run the ship and the technicians to service the data routing equipment, along with a small Marine detachment for security.

The ship was a converted medium-duty cargo hauler that, while comfortably appointed, showed signs of how hasty the refit had been when the Bluebird equipment had come aboard. The most obvious sign was that the ship was almost ten degrees warmer than starships were usually kept at. The Light Foot's environmental systems, designed around a small crew and large cargo bays, wasn't up to the task of scrubbing off the heat generated by thousands of avionics boxes and so many additional bodies.

"The command section up in the superstructure isn't quite so unrefined, Admiral," Flores said to Celesta, catching her look.

"I served on starships back in the pre-Phage War days, Captain," Celesta said with a grin. "I wouldn't consider this unrefined. Just…hasty."

"To say the least," Flores said. "This is it." She pulled a keycard from her pocket and inserted it while allowing the security panel to take several biometric readings including stress indicators that might mean she was opening the hatch under duress. The panel was well-camouflaged as just a normal engineering terminal of the kind sprinkled throughout starships. The hatchway was unassuming enough with a placard that read "Fresh Water Processing, Starboard 2" on the bulkhead.

"We'll be quick," Pike promised.

"The sooner the better," Flores said as she led them down the narrow corridor. "I disabled the cameras on that side of the ship and told the crew we were taking on a team of techs for a scheduled system upgrade. The last thing any of us needs is it getting back to CENTCOM that a Prowler was docked to one of the com ships for any length of time."

Flores waved them over to one of a pair of access terminals and logged them in with her credentials. Pike wasted no time in connecting the datacore that held their crawler program and would be where the suspect message files were copied to. Celesta had a small team of analysts aboard her Prowler that would then comb through the mess and, hopefully, build a cohesive case against the traitors within the Federation government.

"At least I feel like I'm doing something useful," Celesta sighed. "Sitting on the sidelines while Jackson Wolfe and Michael Barrett fly into the lion's den is a tough one to swallow."

"I won't say I understand what you're feeling, but I can sympathize," Pike said. "It was one thing to risk my own life during operations, but being a handler is a whole new thing. The fact my mistakes may have signed Vincent Russo's death warrant will be something that haunts me the rest of my life."

"We're all playing high-stakes at the grownup table," Perez said. "We all might wish we were able to focus on some small thing we're good at, but the things we're doing now will be what wins the war. One more warship or one more spy won't amount to much but exposing a corrupt government for what it is will matter even after the battles are lost."

The ex-director's comment killed the conversation. They sat in silence as the status bar on the monitor slowly creeped while the servers were pawed through by the invasive program. Celesta thought it was ironic that the lax security surrounding actual Bluebird messages had been a vulnerability used against them but would now be the very thing that let them dig out the traitors on their own side.

Assuming it worked, of course.

28

"They've definitely decided this is where they'll make their stand," Commander Hawkins said. "The computers have been at it for over a day and they're still sorting and cataloging all the individual RDS signatures down there. From what we're seeing so far, this represents the overwhelming bulk of the ESA's military power."

Jackson sat in the command chair in CIC watching the threat assessment picture of the Xinjia System take shape. The passive sensors of the four Wolfpack ships observed what was happening below in an aggregate network and were working together far more efficiently than they could individually thanks to the high-bandwidth Bluebird link. The taskforce had arrived nearly five days prior and had been creeping into the outer system while the tactical computers and CIC crew on each ship worked feverishly to give the admiral the best picture of the battlespace that they could.

One problem they ran into right away was a massive gravimetric signature sitting near the planet Xinjia itself. Speculation ran wild as they tried to determine if it was a ship, a cluster of ships, or something else entirely. It wasn't until the first grainy images came in from the optics that Jackson realized they were looking at something that was probably alien in origin. Even at their extreme range, the organic curves of the construct could be clearly seen, albeit with not much detail.

"What about our guest of honor down there?" Jackson asked. "Is it moving?"

"Station keeping within its holding orbit, but it's not maneuvering," Hawkins said. "The computers are building a composite image from all the optical data collected across the taskforce, but it still won't be enough to really see what this thing is. From its orbit, we're able to make some determinations about mass and composition, though. It's huge but not particularly dense. The gravimetric signature doesn't line up with any known engine type and it's enormous. The intel analysts think this is likely some sort of defensive weapon, but they're not willing to guess at what it does."

"Tell them I want answers," Jackson said. "Best guess, worst guess…I don't care. We need to start thinking about strategy, and that thing is a big unknown. If we can make some assumptions based on how it behaves and how they deploy their fleet around it, we hopefully won't be caught completely off-guard."

"It's not that, sir. I think they feel that—"

"Tell them nobody is going to be held responsible if their guess is wrong," Jackson said. "They need to worry about surviving this engagement, not about who might take the fall for a bad hypothesis."

"I'll get them on it, sir." Hawkins slipped his headset up so he could talk directly to the intel section. On a ship like Nemesis the CIC had its own team of intel analysts that could be brought in for certain tasks. Examining the grainy images of an object beyond the effective range of the ship's optics and giving a qualified opinion on what it could be was one of those tasks so Jackson wouldn't put up with them ducking the question because the chance to get it wrong was so high.

While Hawkins talked to the intel shop with his usual lack of finesse, Jackson looked at the display and looked at the ship formations while ignoring the giant construct in orbit over the planet. He could see right away that Vadim Kohl was not calling the shots. The deployments weren't especially brilliant, but they showed knowledge of the basic fundamentals of defending a star system from an outside attack. They concentrated their forces into three orbital rings around the star, mimicking Jackson's own preferred high-speed engagement doctrine by having the individual formations carry a high amount of relative velocity.

There were still a few easily exploited gaps with the force he brought, and that's what made Jackson leery of what he was seeing. Any fleet master competent enough to build an otherwise solid defensive strategy would also see those weaknesses. They would also know their forces would be facing Super Valkyrie-class destroyers, ships so stealthy they could pass within a million klicks of another ship undetected. If these were funnels to get his force where they wanted them, Jackson couldn't see why. That likely meant that whatever the hell was flying over Xinjia was an integral part of their defensive strategy.

"They're working it, sir," Hawkins said. "Shouldn't be long."

"You seeing these gaps in their formations?" Jackson asked.

"I am. It looks too obvious to me to not be a trap, but the fact it is so obvious bothers me. The entire deployment shows some level of competency, something we've not seen from the ESA before in these types of engagements, so it's improbable the planner doesn't see this as well. It has to be deliberate."

"That's because Vadim Kohl is not in charge of this operation, that much is obvious. This is the work of a traditionally trained fleet officer who’s actually attended schools on fighting ships, but I don't think it's somebody who has any actual combat experience. Certainly nobody who fought with us in the Phage War. Do you think we have a short list of Alliance admirals who would fit that bill? It would be someone who was in during the war but likely in 3rd or 8th Fleet and was held in reserve."

"Standby, sir." Hawkins slid his headset back up and forwarded the new request to the intel group.

"It should be a short list," Jackson said. "During the pre-Phage War years in the Asianic Union and Warsaw Alliance, high-level postings were often political favors. This will be someone from a connected family."

Jackson had been a captain in 7th Fleet back when it was used as a training tool. He would fly in as an aggressor and let the other numbered fleets roar out to intercept him. It was all a political dog and pony show, of course. The Black Fleet units were never allowed to win. The whole point was for the politicians and public to see their money put to good use with a powerful fleet that could repel invaders.

In the course of that, however, Jackson had accumulated a lot of firsthand knowledge on how most of the frontline commanders thought and moved. If he knew who was in command here it might offer a better insight into what their intention was with the obvious paths through their defenses.

"List has only two names, sir," Hawkins said, reading off his tile. "Xiao and Sinacore. You know them?"

"Xiao is sitting in a detention facility at a CIS black site at the moment," Jackson said. "He was captured during that operation where an Agent went crazy and blew up a whole taskforce that had already surrendered."

"I'd heard about that."

"Amadeo Sinacore was actually born in the New European Commonwealth but served as a captain in 8th Fleet," Jackson said. "The Warsaw Alliance had more room for advancement, apparently. He'd been denied a transfer to 1st Fleet multiple times right around when I was given command of the Blue Jacket. He doesn't seem to fit the bill."

"Impressive recollection, sir," Hawkins said. "It's the same guy. His name stuck out because the patron who got him a seat in a Warsaw Alliance ship was none other than Ulan Makov, a Foreign Service Minister who would go on to become a Councilman in the ESA. The CIS database loses track of him once the split happened, but it's believed Admiral Sinacore has been in command of Makov's personal fleet."

"While Kohl was used as an attack dog and a target for the Federation." Jackson nodded his understanding. "It also makes sense that Makov would keep someone quietly competent to see to his own security rather than some bumbling doofus with a fetish for committing war crimes."

"Yes, sir," Hawkins said.

"Sinacore isn't a flashy tactician," Jackson said after a moment of thought. "These gaps he put into his formations were left there to funnel us down to where he wants us, not to misdirect us. I don't think there's a greater strategy at play other than the fact we have no damn idea what that big bastard near the planet is."

"The other question we have is how much he knows about what we're going to do," Hawkins said. "Do you think he'd assume we'd only come with a four-ship taskforce?"

"He might be expecting a much bigger response from us," Jackson agreed. "But not Aegis. If he saw what happened to Admiral Epps there, and he thought we were bringing that force with us, there is no way he would deploy his fleet like this. He might think we're bringing what remains of 7th and 4th Fleets."

"I can run those simulations fairly quickly and see if adding in a bigger composite force on our side changes the model predictions," Hawkins said. "It could give us some insight we're missing on Tango Alpha down there by the planet."

"Do it."

While the CIC staff ran the new input through the tactical computers to generate the new prediction models, Jackson grabbed his tile and logged into his private server to pull up whatever he had on Admiral Sinacore. It wasn't much. Sinacore had made the fatal flaw of assuming just being good at his job was enough to get noticed once he put on his first star. Like Jackson, he was woefully inept when it came to playing the game of politics. The difference between the two men was that Sinacore hadn't gained notoriety by being a war hero. In fact, he'd sat the last two wars out on the sidelines.

The more he read, the more Jackson realized he was looking at himself in a parallel universe. If the Blue Jacket hadn't been the one to stumble across the Phage's first foray into human space, he would have also likely had a career marked by being passed over in favor of people like Vadim Kohl who were shit officers but proficient political ass kissers. The whole thing was actually quite depressing. Could it really have been just blind chance that made Jackson Wolfe a legend while Amadeo Sinacore toiled away in obscurity?

Thoughts like that crashing into his ego like a battering ram were what caused Jackson to lose sleep. It's not that he was afraid of being a fraud. It was that he might begin to believe his own hype and get a lot of people killed because he thought he really was just that fucking good. It made him dig back into the data with renewed vigor, making sure he didn't overlook something obvious or miss something subtle.

No matter how many times he found himself thrust into battle, he hated it. Fighting the Phage was one thing. There was a purity to the act of self-defense in the face of an enemy that wanted you dead. This? This wasn't so clear. It was hard to pick out good guys and bad guys when the good guys were the bad guys. Were the saboteurs and traitors in the Federation any better than the Alliance butchers they enabled to destroy four planets? Or were they the same?

"The first two predictive models are complete, sir," Hawkins said. "The new input only seems to confuse things even more. The simulations show that even a moderately large taskforce under a hundred ships would be able to easily push deep into the system. They've spread so thin that any force over twelve ships would be able to make a run at these gaps, and they wouldn't have sufficient overlap to stop all of them. If you were defending against an invading fleet that's likely trying to wipe out your capital and willing to spend ships and spacers to do it, this strategy makes no sense."

"Damn," Jackson said. "Keep at it. There's a tactical goal here we're not seeing. Don't assume Admiral Sinacore doesn't know what he's doing and keep trying to figure out what that thing down there is."

"Will do, sir."

"Remember that, no matter what, we're pushing into the system within the next forty-eight hours."

"Nobody sleeps until we have answers, sir."

Jackson hoped he didn't actually mean that but nodded and left the rough-around-the-edges CIC commander to his job. The taskforce had a unique capability being able to combine all four CICs into one work center via the Bluebird network. Jackson had ordered Hawkins in overall command due to his rank and position on the flagship and hoped that with four times the brainpower attacking the problem something workable would come out by the time he needed to be in motion. The Alliance ships he'd left behind near Eternis Pax could be only six days away, and he didn't want those reinforcements changing their plans before they'd even begun.

"VIP shuttle is away, Captain."

"Thank you, Commander," Russo said. "Maintain high-orbit for now."

"Aye, sir."

Russo had been tracking the shuttle's descent down to the bright yellow surface of Golden Major. The moon had no atmosphere to speak of but its rocky composition still made it useful. Apparently, there was a secret bunker complex buried there, and he wanted to find out where.

Ella Ersk was deep within the Unity's hierarchy. Knowing her hiding spot could be used for leverage later on depending on how all of this played out. What he really wanted to know was what was down there that they'd send Ersk personally to monitor. There's no way they'd just stash her there for no reason, and the woman had no fear of death, so she wasn't hiding from a potential Fed counterattack.

On the short flight out to Golden Major, Ersk had come to Russo in his quarters. She had wordlessly pushed him back onto his rack and slipped out of her own utilities, making it obvious what she intended. Even when she'd been fully nude Russo hadn't been convinced she wasn't about to kill him, and the games beforehand were just a way for her to amuse herself.

It wasn't until afterwards, after she'd stayed and talked openly about things she had done and what she hoped the future held for her, that he realized Ersk was like him. Someone trapped in their current role, surrounded by people yet painfully lonely. For some reason, she saw Russo has a kindred spirit she could connect with.

After she'd left Russo had gone to his private head and stepped under the scalding water. He vomited while scrubbing his skin so hard he bled in places when he finally emerged. It had been easier when he thought Ersk was a monster. Now? Now, he wasn't sure how the two of them were actually any different from each other. The realization left him shaky and sick, unable to look at himself in the mirror has he dried and clothed himself.

"Look for me when this is over, Captain. This doesn't have to be our life."

Those had been the last words she'd said to him before stepping through the airlock into the shuttle. Russo had watched her leave, his convictions shaken. Had he been under so long that one night with a beautiful woman was enough to make him question who was right and who was wrong in all of this? If Ersk had been a mindless zealot it would have been easier to dismiss everything she'd said. But she was nothing more than a pragmatist and seemed to have picked a side she felt would be able to end the inevitable war the quickest and offer her the most personal gain. Both were motivations he could easily relate to.

"Captain, the shuttle is on its way back up," the OPS officer reported. "The pilot has said the people on the surface want us to move to a higher orbit as soon as they're docked. They don't want any ships or formations sitting in low orbit around Golden Major."

"Understood," Russo said. "XO, could you handle the details of—"

"Incoming emergency flash from Xinjia, sir!" the com officer said. "Boundary detection grid has picked up a signature consistent with a destroyer-class vessel. They're putting us at alert level one and requesting we report in with our status."

"Report in that Koshmar is fully mission capable, Lieutenant," Russo said. "If there's a Fed destroyer sitting at the edge of the system, we can be assured it is the Nemesis."

"Orders, sir?" the XO asked.

"While we all wish it otherwise, this ship is not part of the tactical picture to hold Xinjia," Russo said. "We have a much greater tasking, and it is one that will take even more courage than flying into the teeth of the enemy. We must have the courage of restraint. Our contribution will ensure that the Fed ships are easy prey for our forces. For now, move the ship away from Golden Major as ordered. Put us on course for a high-altitude holding orbit."

"Aye-aye, sir," the XO said, clearly not happy with the answer. Russo looked around the bridge of the worn-out old ship, saying a silent prayer of thanks he wouldn't actually be required to ride into battle on her. The truth was that none of Commodore Kohl's forces were participating in the defense of the system. They were being held in reserve to defend Abyss as a measure of last resort.

"We don't need to like it, XO, we just need to do it to the best of our ability."

29

Pike leaned back in his seat, overwhelmed by what he read.

"We were fighting to save something that hardly even existed anymore. The sheer number of these slithering snakes that have climbed into bed with the ESA is enough to make me lose faith in humanity."

"You mean you still had any?" Celesta asked.

"Figure of speech, my dear but, no. I realized what people really were a long time ago. Politicians and bureaucrats even more so."

"What do we do about all of this?" Celesta asked. "This isn't just a few bad apples, but it isn't the whole orchard, either. For all the names we're seeing, I'm somewhat relieved by the people we're not seeing on this list."

"Which doesn't necessarily clear them," Perez said. "But point taken, Admiral. For now, we'll bundle this into an archived data file along with an attached summary report and forward it to Admiral Pitt. For now, he's the only person I feel we can trust completely."

"I'd feel better about extracting Pitt not sending him information that people would kill him for even seeing," Pike said.

"He's as protected as we can make him at the moment," Perez said. "I offered to pull him, but he's afraid if he's missing, CENTCOM will fall the same way the CIS and the presidency has. He doesn't want some puppet in there with full access to what's left of our fleet."

The small team of analysts aboard Celesta's Prowler had been able to find dozens of threads to begin pulling together a complete picture of how deeply the ESA had compromised the Federation. Or at least, these people thought they were dealing with the ESA. Pike had to wonder how many might have gotten cold feet if they realized they'd actually been double dealing with a highly organized cabal within the ESA power structure that was hellbent on taking both great nations down.

Now, they had more than enough evidence to kick off criminal proceedings into seventeen PMs, the current president, the new head of the CIS, and nine high-ranking CENTCOM officials. There were five on that list who appeared to have been directly involved in the assassination of Joseph Marcum. Those five would never see the inside of a courtroom, Pike would see to that personally.

He and Marcum had an antagonistic relationship, and while the former Starfleet legend seemed to genuinely despise the Agent, Pike still had had an enormous amount of respect for the man. He respected him at least enough to be highly offended when a pack of cowards set a bomb on the landing pad for his shuttle.

"Word coming in from the taskforce," Celesta said, reading from another terminal. "Admiral Wolfe is getting ready to make his move. He says to be ready because when this happens, it will happen fast. There's something the ESA has been hiding, something he says looks like an alien construct and he's betting it's a Darshik weapon."

"Darshik?" Pike asked, frowning. "I know the Alliance has messed around with their directed plasma weaponry with varying degrees of success, but if they had some new weapon actually built by the experts, why are they just now deploying it?"

"Dozens of reasons spring to mind," Perez said. "Not the least of which is the fact their espionage program and antimatter bombs brought the Federation to the brink of destruction without the need for it."

"Fair point," Pike said. "But something about this smells…off. This reeks of the internal power squabbles that have hampered the ESA since they broke off. Some member of the cabal had this stashed somewhere and was using it as leverage."

"Largely irrelevant at this point, wouldn't you say?" Celesta asked. "Any chance any of your sources might know what it is?"

"Vincent Russo would have been my only inside asset for that," Pike said. "And without the Broadhead's relay functioning properly, I can't send or receive messages from him."

"We could ask Pitt to send someone down to reinitialize the ship's systems," Perez suggested. "Maybe get you up and running again."

"There's every chance it might have been found," Pike said. "I'm not sure it's worth the risk. Besides, I set up a few surprises for anyone who found it that tried to force their way aboard."

"Leaving it behind made sense at the time, but I think that's going to end up being a major tactical blunder on our part," Perez said. "Keeping it hidden on Earth as a com relay was a simple, sound idea that may have fucked us."

"It certainly fucked Russo," Pike said quietly. Nobody said anything. They all knew quite well the fresh guilt Pike was shouldering about not forcing their team to extract Russo when they had the chance. Sending him back in and losing contact virtually guaranteed the man's death. Even Celesta had learned early on that platitudes about how it wasn't his fault, and that Russo was just doing his duty only pissed Pike off.

"We know the Bluebird link is severed, but do you think he might be able to answer over regular RF coms?" Celesta asked. "We do have ships in the system now. If Jackson could find a way to talk to the Koshmar without making it obvious, they might get enough warning on this new weapon to either abort or adjust their tactics."

"I'll get to work on that," Pike said. "This isn't exactly my specialty, but maybe there is something there."

Wren Ives was furious.

One of her teams had found Pike's Broadhead, something that promised to be a treasure trove of actionable intel that would help her root out what remained of the loyalists in CENTCOM and the CIS once the Xinjia and Sol operations were complete. Rather than call in the tech crews or simply have the ship recovered and taken somewhere to be analyzed, the bumbling fools had tried to force their way onto the ship. The explosion was seen from space, and all that was left of the ship and her highly trained search and recovery team was a smoking crater.

"There was nothing recoverable?" Mulhouse asked. She gave the president a disgusted look.

"From that?" She pointed at the wall monitor showing real-time footage of the scene. "You can't be serious."

"I suppose we could officially declare this Agent Pike a criminal and call for his arrest now. That's something at least."

"It's less than nothing. You think Pike cares if you declare him anything? We needed that ship. We needed to know who he's been talking to and what they've been saying. Now, we have nothing, not even Pike himself. I'm guessing he's on Admiral Wright's personal Prowler, but the ship has gone dark, and nobody within the service would ever sell her out."

"Even with you being the new director?" Mulhouse asked, surprised.

"The CIS isn't like the military," Ives said, wondering why she was wasting her time explaining anything to him. Mulhouse certainly hadn't been picked by the Unity for his brains. "Loyalties are a lot more complex. When you have a service full of highly trained espionage operators the lines become a lot more blurred, and you tend to be loyal to people, not flags. Trust me, nobody is going to give us Pike or Wright."

"Interesting," Mulhouse said, his tone indicating he found it anything but. "So, what now?"

"Now, we wait. Wolfe's ship has been spotted at the boundary of the Xinjia System so we know he's up to something. We have no idea where the Super Valkyrie ships went, and no idea where the Mickeys flew off to after they departed Odessa, but we can assume Wolfe has them nearby. For now, we'll just have to wait and see what happens in Xinjia. Their success or failure will dictate what we do next."

"Parliament is becoming restless," Mulhouse warned. "We'll need to do something soon."

"It's all being handled, Mr. President. Just relax."

30

"We're sure they've seen us?"

"Completely sure, sir. We were probably picked up on that thermal detection grid we passed on the way in, but we're definitely being painted by high-powered radar from extreme range. At this point, I'd wager they know who we are as well."

Commander Hawkins was on the bridge of the Nemesis giving Jackson an in-person brief as their plan unfolded. In order to sneak his other three ships deeper into the system, Jackson had ordered the Nemesis's reactors to full power for ninety minutes before coming back down to normal operating range. The hot gas plume from their exhaust, as well as the excess power they'd need to shunt to thermal energy, made sure that, for a brief time, they lit up the scopes of the defending fleet.

While they watched and tracked the Nemesis, the rest of Taskforce Wolfpack slunk through the grid at minimal power with low-observability protocols enabled. Jackson knew the ruse wouldn't fool anyone, but it would still force them to expend time and resources to try and locate the other ships. Three destroyers that could disappear and warp hop deep into the system would be something that would give a defending commander nightmares.

"Let's get started, then," Jackson said. "Go ahead and get back to CIC. We'll be underway by the time you get there."

"Aye, sir."

"Helm, prepare for the first programmed warp hop. Coms, let the taskforce know we're ready to begin."

"First waypoint is locked and ready to execute, sir," the helmsman said. "Engineering has cleared the ship for warp flight."

"Tactical?" Jackson asked.

"Offensive and defensive systems are queued and ready to activate while we're in warp flight, sir. When we pop back in, we'll be loud and proud. There's no way they'll miss us."

"All departments check in," Jackson said, sitting in the command chair and moving the monitors around so he could see them all. "Count them off, OPS."

"All departments calling in ready, sir. Nemesis is ready to fight," Hori said.

"Very well. Helm…execute."

Nemesis had been carrying a lot of relative velocity already, so the warp transition was smooth as she seemed to wink out of existence. Their target was inside the third ring formation of defenders, just downhill from the orbit of the sixth planet in the system. They would appear just long enough for the defending fleet to get a fix on them before jumping back to the system boundary and going dark.

Since they were carrying Aegis, the plan was to not put the Nemesis at unnecessary risk, but she was also the most obvious choice to send when the time came to kick the hornet nest and see what sort of plan the Alliance commanders had come up with.

Once they bit down and redeployed their forces, it would be time for Jackson to unveil his surprise. The arrival of the Mickey fleet would create a whole new level of chaos and confusion. More than enough for Captain Risher to get his ships downhill and take out key targets that had been identified by CIC, including an ancient dreadnaught intel claimed was Kohl's new flagship: the Koshmar.

"Twenty-three minutes flight time, sir," the helm reported.

The bridge was busy but calm. Every officer and spacer up there had been through multiple combat engagements, many with Jackson as their captain. He was comfortable sitting in Michael Barrett's chair and commanding the ship thanks to their presence. There was a natural rhythm that happened with competent bridge crews and a good CO that was a force multiplier in a fight. Jackson could feel that now and realized how much he'd missed it since he'd been promoted out of the seat.

"Weapons and defensive systems are armed, sir," Tactical reported.

"Go full-active sensors when we transition in," Jackson said. "LIDAR and radar. We don't know how many of those stealth ships the ESA might have left, but let's not have one sneak up on us. One unlucky antimatter bomb will end this mission real quick."

"Active sensors, aye. CIC will be looking for stealth shroud impacts."

The minutes ticked down until, with a soft shudder, the Nemesis transitioned back into real-space. Tactical computers immediately began updating the threat board as radar data was added to passive link data. It was a tense moment until the computers verified that the ship was right where she was supposed to be and that there were no threats within weapons range.

"OPS, light up the tactical transponder only," Jackson ordered. "Helm, steady as she bears. Engines to idle."

"Engines answering idle, aye."

"Closest Alliance ship is seventy-two million klicks bearing towards us at three-zero-eight by eleven," Commander Hori said. "It's the lead of a four-ship flight…heavy cruiser class."

"I see them," Jackson said. "Give them some time to see us, and we'll gauge the reaction. Helm, prep our next jump and in the meantime come starboard to course zero-three-zero, declination of five. Let's get some speed going into this next transition. All ahead two-thirds."

"Ahead two-thirds, aye!"

The instant the helmsman pushed the throttles up there was a deep rumbling from the aft of the ship, and the deck heaved a bit, but no alarms sounded.

"Were we just hit?" Jackson asked.

"Negative, sir."

"Engines not answering, Admiral," the helmsman said. "Power is going up…but our relative isn't changing."

"Ahead full," Jackson said. This time, the buffeting was severe, and people were tossed around in their restraints. Sharp bangs and cracks could be heard reverberating through the hull. "All stop!"

"Engines answering all stop!" The buffeting ceased at once.

"OPS!"

"Talking to engineering now, Admiral," Hori said. "They're not sure what's going on. Commander Duhart says there is no indication anything is actually wrong with the engines."

"Admiral, I may have the answer," Aegis said, breaking in over the bridge speakers for the first time since they arrived in the Xinjia System. "Ask CIC to review the accelerometer data for the time of the incident. Specifically looking for gravimetric wave signatures that wouldn't have come from our own engines."

"Talking to Commander Hawkins now," Hori said. Jackson waited impatiently while his people dug through the data. He toyed around with the idea of tying Aegis into the Nemesis's data net but decided against it for the moment.

"Admiral, this is Commander Hawkins," Jake Hawkins broke in over the speakers. "There is a gravimetric event that coincides with our attempts to move the ship that don't originate from the Nemesis. No source can be identified, and the wave pattern is…strange."

"Aegis?" Jackson asked.

"Running probabilities now, Admiral," Aegis replied. "The most likely scenario is that this is some sort of gravimetric nullification effect produced by the construct near Xinjia. It is a weapon meant to leave us adrift."

"Can we go to warp?" Jackson asked.

"Given how energetic the reaction was to regular propulsion modes Commander Duhart says that engaging the warp drive could be disastrous and doesn't recommend it. The nullification wave power would be enough to destroy the ship."

The enormity of what he was being told hit Jackson like a hammer. He couldn't get his ship moving under her own power, and he also couldn’t transition to warp. The Nemesis's speed and ability to hop within a system were key to his risk mitigation strategy.

"Admiral, Captain Risher is reporting the same effect," the com officer said. "All three ships are floundering. He's asking for orders."

"Tell him to shut down engines and run dark," Jackson said. "Stay hidden for as long as possible. We need time to figure this out."

"Enemy ships are adjusting course to intercept, Admiral," Tactical said. "Course and speed changes indicate that whatever has us adrift isn't affecting them."

"Reinforcing that this is a weapon," Jackson said. "RDS to standby. OPS, tell Engineering to deploy the MPD pods. We'll do this the old way. Helm, you're proficient at flying a ship with reactive thrust engines?"

"Yes, sir."

"Engineering is securing the RDS and deploying the MPD nacelles," Hori said. "Commander Duhart says it shouldn't take too long to be ready."

The Nemesis was built at a time when the reactionless drive systems were sharing space with ships that still flew the older magneto-plasma thrust engines. Her designers had decided to incorporate both into the new ship. At Jackson's command, armored hatches opened along both flanks and two MPD pods were extended out on actuators while bracing was moved into place to handle the thrust they could produce. There were only two engines, but the combined thrust they could produce was actually quite a bit more than Jackson's old Raptor-class destroyer could muster with four. It would be a far cry from what the RDS could do, but at least they wouldn't be dead in space.

What was unfortunate was that by the time the Super Valkyrie-class ships were built, MPDs were no longer in service, and the engineers hadn't bothered to fit them into the newer ships. They had a few emergency maneuvering engines that burned chemical propellant but nothing that could be used in sustained combat operations. For all intents and purposes, Captain Risher's ships were out of the fight.

And so were the Mickeys.

None of the Aegis-controlled ships had any reactive propulsion other than emergency attitude jets and some low-power docking thrusters. The good news was that they had been held back outside of the system, the bad news was that, until this weapon could be neutralized, they wouldn't be able to be deployed.

Jackson took a moment to think while his engines charged and there was no immediate danger. The most obvious thing to do would be use his thrust engines to get the Nemesis within weapons range of the construct. It was so obvious the enemy would be expecting it. In hindsight, he should have just ordered Risher to jump one of their ships in close and pump it full of Shrike missiles, blowing it up rather than trying to investigate what it was. By the time his missiles were in the air, it would have been too late to stop them.

"Aegis, can any of your ships jump in within weapons range of the construct?" Jackson asked, seeing a way out of the mess.

"They cannot," Aegis said. "Neither could any of Captain Risher's ships. The construct is too close to the planet Xinjia to safely execute such a long-range intra-system warp hop. The risk to the ship and the planet's population are well beyond acceptable."

"Understood," Jackson said.

Knowing he hadn't made a mistake in not trying to position Risher in close was a hollow victory. They still had no good answers for the predicament they were in. Nemesis was trapped deep in the system and unable to tap into her speed advantage or warp hop capability. It was only a matter of time before he was overwhelmed, and the ship was taken or destroyed…and Aegis along with it.

Absently, he pulled a specialized comlink from his pocket and checked the status on the machine's safeguards he'd enabled. No matter what else happened, Aegis could not fall into enemy hands. The system in the hands of someone bent on subjugation would be an unstoppable tool of oppression. With it, a very small group of people could impose their will on the rest and there would be little to deter them, even with a Mickey fleet as small as the one he had now.

"Admiral, MPD pods are deployed and charged. Engineering has cleared the ship to maneuver," Hori said.

"Thank you, OPS," Jackson said, still looking at the main display. There weren't a lot of options open to him that didn't involve uncomfortably high risk. One thing he knew for certain, however, was that he had to get underway. A ship adrift was nothing but shark bait…and the sharks were circling. A few more ships were adjusting course and bearing towards them so movement was key.

"Helm, bring us about to bearing zero-four-zero by zero," he said. "All ahead full. Navigation, plot us a course for a gravity assist from sixth planet at the maximum effective range. I don't want to get too close to it and risk getting bogged down in an engagement in a planetary well."

"Engines ahead full, aye!"

The deep rumbling of massive plasma thrust engines coming to life and the visceral pull as they moved the ship gave Jackson a satisfying sense of nostalgia despite the grave danger they were in. Nemesis swung around onto her new course and roared away from her pursuers towards her target of a planetary grav assist. The computers automatically updated the timers accordingly, and he saw they would make their planetary intercept before the pursuing ships could close within weapons range. But just.

"Coms, tell Captain Risher to make sure his ships are staying quiet and to bunch them up to maximize their defensive and passive sensor coverage. Aegis! I want a plan to deal with our friend down there. The sooner the better."

"Acknowledged, Admiral," Aegis said. "I have been running simulations since the device ensnared us."

Jackson leaned back, projecting an aura of calm and confidence. He'd been in much more hopeless battles than this. The Nemesis had lost her speed advantage, but she was still a dangerous predator with all her teeth. The first Alliance ships that came too close would find that out all too well.

31

"Abyss is active. It is working as expected."

"You mean it's hampering our own ships just as much as it is the Feds?" Russo asked.

"Not yet," the OPS officer reported. "The Fed ship activated its tactical systems, which is why Abyss targeted it. Right now, all our ships are running with weapons powered down completely. The team running the weapon is ready to try and manage the problem, but they expect our ships to be affected once they go hot as well."

"Not much of a weapon," the XO said to Russo. "We have to let our ships get within the Nemesis's superior range before they can even bring up their point defense? Wolfe is going to slaughter dozens of crews. We'll have to keep throwing ships at that damned thing until it runs out of missiles and mag-cannon shells."

"This was always going to be a battle of attrition," Russo said. "Even with Wolfe coming alone, this will be a costly operation."

"But worth it?" the XO asked. "Sir, I know many of the spacers on that ship. Is using them for fodder really the best we can do to beat him?"

"It's the plan we've been given." Russo felt for the man. After so much time serving aboard Alliance ships, he'd come to care for them, too. The Alliance and the Unity may have been the enemy to his side, but the men and women crewing these ships weren't. They were brave souls who volunteered, thinking they'd be defending their homes. Nobody joined the military because they thought they'd be used as pawns in the political wrangling of a pack of megalomaniacs bent on ruling over it all.

"Where is Admiral…uh, Commodore Kohl? We've not seen him on the bridge in some time."

"The commodore feels his physical appearance at the moment is an unneeded distraction," Russo said. "He is monitoring the situation from the comfort of his quarters and communicating any necessary orders to me." He tapped at his earpiece.

This seemed to satisfy the XO. It wasn't even remotely true, of course, but the commander had no way to prove it either way. Kohl was under constant guard and was barely coherent most times. His caregivers were being kept isolated from the rest of the crew to make sure rumors didn't circulate, but it was becoming harder and harder to hide Kohl's deteriorating condition.

For reasons Russo couldn't understand, Vadim Kohl was still practically worshipped by his flagship's crew. They seemed to actually think Kohl was in overall command of Alliance forces in the Xinjia System despite orders coming to the Koshmar from Admiral Sinacore's ship. Once the Nemesis appeared, they buzzed with excitement at the possibility of a Kohl versus Wolfe rematch despite the fact Wolfe had kicked his teeth in every single time they met.

The cult of personality that surrounded Kohl was frightening in how absolute it was, and it made Russo realize that anything he might do in the coming hours and days would have to be done carefully. If he was caught doing anything they thought undermined the commodore, they'd kill him.

"Please, relay to the commodore that we still believe in him and will follow him to the end," the XO said before walking off. Russo shuddered inwardly as he saw the man was actually hiding the fact there were tears in his eyes. He'd underestimated the crew's personal loyalty, but he could still understand it. Despite the bumbling incompetence, and the fact he'd committed unspeakable atrocities, Vadim Kohl was still someone who had a powerful presence. He was the deep-voiced, rigid-spine officer people imagined when they thought of an admiral. It didn't matter that Kohl spoke to them almost entirely in clichés.

He had a magnetism about him that made people want to follow him. It was just too bad that he wasn't a man worthy of being followed. Russo's CIS training made him immune. An outsider trapped within a cult, watching how they twisted facts and excused failures. In every way that was important, their worship of Kohl had little to do with Vadim himself and everything to do with their own need to believe they were the good guys.

"Captain, the Abyss team said the weapon has located three more Fed ships," the OPS officer said, waving for his attention. "They have also been bracketed and targeted. Shall I send the coordinates to Admiral Sinacore's ship?"

The Koshmar was acting as the coordinator for the Abyss weapon system so the targeting team would pass on key data to them, they would then forward it to the fleet. Russo wasn't sure why they'd structured it that way, but it worked to his advantage.

"Send it to my terminal. I will pass it on to Admiral Sinacore myself," he said.

"At once, sir."

Russo knew he couldn't simply delete the data or fail to forward it without being caught by the crew and this wasn't his moment yet. It was too early. What he could do, however, was massage the data a bit so the risk to the rest of Wolfe's ships was minimized. He wished he could find a way to pass on a message to them, letting them know that if they powered down their weapons completely and cycled power on their engines, Abyss would break target lock and release them. It wouldn't retarget them unless it detected active weapons or an overly aggressive posture.

Nemesis was probably still listening on all of the normal Fleet frequencies from back when they were all one big, happy CENTCOM family, but those were all unencrypted RF coms, and the moment he broadcast a warning on them, he'd be toast. He was balancing on the head of a needle right now, weighing the need to win the overall battle with his desire to minimize the deaths of spacers and civilians alike.

He quickly formatted a flash message to Sinacore's flagship and included a set of coordinates with the targeting data that would have them looking at a spot in space with nothing in it. Sinacore was the cautious sort and, until he had hard confirmation about who it was and how many there were, he wouldn't send any of his ships to intercept. Since the message came from his personal net address, the rest of the Koshmar crew would never know what he actually sent. If the other ship asked to verify, he would just claim he made a transcription error since the numbers he gave simply had a few flipped digits.

"XO, you have the bridge. I am going to take half an hour to grab something to eat and rest a moment," he said. "Alert me at once if anything happens."

"Yes, Captain. Enjoy your meal, sir."

Russo left the bridge and made a direct line for his own quarters. His moment was coming. He could feel it, and he needed to be ready. Redemption was within his grasp so long as he didn't lose his nerve or make a mistake.

"Pursuing ships still aren't hitting us with a targeting scan, sir."

"They may be getting targeting data from the machine that's clamped down on our engines," Jackson said. "It appears to have the ability to track us."

They'd shut the RDS down completely, moved under plasma thrust power, and then brought the RDS back online to experiment. The null effect was immediate, so however the machine was tracking them, it was updating in real-time regardless of if they shut the engines down for a period or not.

"Captain Risher is still reporting they're dead in space, sir."

"Understood," Jackson said. "Tell him to maintain defensive posture."

The pursuing ships had closed to within range of their targeting radars, but there were still no scans detected by the Nemesis. This made Jackson realize there was more to their strategy than he was seeing. Even with their alien weapon being able to track them precisely enough to dampen their engines, the individual ships would still need to target him with their tracking radars to get a firing solution for their missiles. Since all the players could see each other, there was no advantage to not getting updated target tracks and letting the high-power arrays give the defensive systems an early warning of any incoming fire.

As the slowly unfolding tactical situation continued and the Nemesis roared towards the sixth planet, Jackson made sure the crew was getting rested and fed at regular intervals. Commander Hori had the officer's mess set up a buffet in the bridge briefing room and told them to make sure it stayed stocked with hot coffee and fresh sandwiches for the duration. All the department heads had made sure to keep their people busy to keep their minds occupied.

Despite the breakneck speed of advances in starship designs the last fifteen years the reality of space combat was still the mental tedium of waiting as ships and missiles crawled across the vast ocean of space. Federation warp hop technology had eroded that factor, but that capability was being denied them by the Alliance's new toy sitting down by the planet.

Jackson spent most the time becoming reacquainted with the role of captain. With Barrett out of commission, the Nemesis would require his full attention. More accurately, he would return to his role as a senior captain when he commanded a squadron of Starwolf-class destroyers during the Phage War. Risher and the others would be given a certain degree of autonomy and to operate without too much input from the admiral for the time being. In truth, it was an arrangement he was much more comfortable with, and it let him get back to what he felt his strongest skill set was in the first place: space warfare.

He'd taken the time to pull Commander Aiko Hori aside and explain to her that his decision to assume direct command of the Nemesis wasn't a reflection on her skills, only her inexperience. As the ship's XO, it should have been her job to step in when Barrett was sidelined. The problem was that her posting was so new, and given the utter disarray that CENTCOM was in, a replacement first watch OPS officer hadn't been assigned, and she'd not had enough reps in the big chair for Jackson to be completely comfortable with her running the ship in combat. She'd been in many battles, of course, but there was a big difference when it came to running the OPS station and sitting in the command chair giving orders.

Hori had taken it with the grace and professionalism he'd come to expect from her, but he could still tell his decision had stung her pride. And that was good as well. Anybody being groomed to be a starship captain should be hungry to get in that seat and prove themselves, and they wouldn't shy away from the chance because the stakes were too high. She'd made her case as to why she should be allowed to assume the role but accepted Jackson's reasoning on why he wouldn't let her. She would be a damn good captain one day…so long as Jackson could keep her alive long enough to grow into it.

"We're getting hit with a targeting radar from ahead of us, Admiral," the second watch OPS officer said just as a warning flashed on the main display. "The computer is having trouble matching it to any known Alliance ship types."

"What does CIC think?" Jackson asked.

"That it's highly probable we have a group of ships hiding in the shadow of the planet. Nothing showed up on our initial system survey, but they're not ruling it out, sir."

"Understood. Nav, is there any way to sharpen our insertion angle and pass closer to the planet?" Jackson asked.

"Standby, sir," the navigation specialist said. In the newer classes of Federation starship, the nav specialist sat at the auxiliary helm station alongside the helmsperson. The delineation between the two disciplines had been getting more and more blurred as both worked together to navigate within a star system and fly the ship.

"We can do it. Just. It would take a full-power burn over the next nine hours to steepen our approach. That will have us passing the planet at an altitude of twenty-two hundred klicks. This will negate any velocity increase we would have got from the high-altitude slingshot, sir."

Jackson thought it over for a moment. Running on the old MPD engines meant he was once again a prisoner to Newtonian physics. Speed was everything, and it was now hard to come by. Scrubbing off so much relative velocity to try and stay hidden by the planet longer when there were already pursuing ships that had radioed his course and speed to the entire fleet seemed a pointless waste of fuel.

"Steady on, Helm," he said. "We'll take the planet at speed and keep moving around Xinjia Prime."

"Aye, sir. Steady as she bears."

The loss of his warp hop capability meant he had to plan his trip downhill a little more carefully. He was going to use a gravity assist from the sixth planet to swing them around the star and down towards the planet Xinjia where that alien weapon sat. He'd debated trying to hit it with the mag-cannons since they would be immune to its effects and impossible to intercept, but the risk of collateral damage on the planet if they missed was just too great. Maybe if he got closer and had a clear firing lane, he could send a salvo. If he could shut it down, the Nemesis could escape back into the outer system, and Aegis could go to work clearing the sky.

Admiral Sinacore—assuming he was right about who was commanding the other fleet—would almost certainly guess this was his plan as there wouldn't be a lot of other options available to the Nemesis at that point. Sinacore was competent but sometimes overly cautious. He'd be even more so now that he'd been given what looked like an insurmountable advantage over Jackson. He would most likely make moves to protect that advantage at all costs, which meant protecting the weapon against even attacks that had low probability of success.

What Jackson hoped might happen in that case is that Sinacore would order the weapon moved away from the incoming attack. With the Nemesis restricted to her slow, gravity-dependent approach to Xinjia, he would likely have it moved farther out towards the middle-system. Once it cleared the planet's influence, Aegis could jump some ships in on top of it and take it out.

The whole strategy was a terrible gamble and relied on his best guess of what Amadeo Sinacore might do when confronted with Jackson's mad rush downhill towards the planet. It also had the benefit of being the only viable option available to him. With the Nemesis reliant on thrust engines at moment, she didn't have the power to escape and evade the Alliance fleet for long. The longer he played games, the more time he gave the enemy to redeploy their net for him.

"Admiral, we're getting a better look at that emitter ahead of us," Sparcus said from the tactical station. "CIC thinks it's a modified ETR-31 high-power acquisition array."

"That's an old ground radar system," Jackson said, frowning. "They were used to track orbital targets from a planet. What's that doing out here?"

"Unknown, sir. Should I—"

"How long until we cross the horizon and can see the emitter source?" Jackson asked.

"Four hours, nine minutes."

"Sir?" Commander Hori asked. She was in the midst of switching out with the second watch OPS officer.

"I think we're about to fly right into the teeth of a Phage War relic," Jackson said. "I think we're looking at some cobbled together automated defense platform. That radar will give tracking data to a bank of launchers that will start spitting missiles at us the moment we're in range."

"I've never heard of such a thing," Hori said.

"I'm not surprised. These types of things were built all over the Asianic Union and Warsaw Alliance right after the first Phage Super Alpha incursion," Jackson said. "It was a panic reflex when it was obvious our ships weren't much of a match for the Phage units at that time. Local governments fortified their individual systems, the AU most of all since the point of incursion into human space went right through their territory."

"At that time, Xinjia was a major industrial center for the AU," Sparcus said. "It's hard to believe these emplacements weren't dismantled."

"Likely powered down and left in place," Jackson said. "Sinacore might have ordered them fired up just to add to the confusion, but they're a very real risk. When we cross that horizon, we'll be fired upon. We won't be crossing close enough for a laser shot, which would be optimal, so we're going to take the platform out with the mag-cannons. Ten shot salvo, H.E. shells."

"Acknowledged, Admiral. Building firing solution for ten-shot, H.E. salvo," Sparcus said. "Setting up for computer-controlled snapshot."

"You're clear for computer-controlled firing solution," Jackson said. "Set main batteries to point defense mode. This will be ship-buster nukes coming at us, so let's not have anything getting through."

"Setting main cannon batteries to diffuse defensive fire, aye."

Laser cannons had been a mainstay on human warships since there even was such a thing and, in that entire time, they've never been considered an especially effective weapon. They drew enormous power and, relatively speaking, needed to be within close range to be effective. Missiles could travel for days to a target, covering millions of kilometers to deliver a killing blow while even the most powerful laser cannon was only effective out to a few hundred thousand. Even then, they had to remain trained on the target so long it left the ship vulnerable.

One thing the lasers were very good at, however, was defending against incoming missiles. Fleet R&D had developed a new focusing aperture to retrofit the cannons into powerful point defense weapons. The beams were defocused to give more coverage and the targeting gimbals were able to keep them trained on inbound missiles, cooking their guidance systems as they closed. In testing it had shown itself to be more effective than standard point defense batteries by a factor of five.

"OPS go ahead and get the crew into their restraints," Jackson said as the timer on the main display said they had less than forty minutes to contact with the tracking radar ahead of them. CIC confirmed that the modified ground radar array was in search mode, sweeping the sky looking for targets. It would switch to acquisition the moment the Nemesis cleared the planet and was painted. This told Jackson the enemy wasn't quite sure if the Super Valkyries were all accounted for.

"Clearing the horizon…now," Sparcus said. "Locked onto emitter source and targeting."

"Enemy radar is in acquisition mode," Hori said. "They nailed us the moment we appeared."

"As expected," Jackson said calmly. "Tactical?"

"Firing!" The deck rumbled as the mag-cannons sent ten 1500mm high-explosive shells streaking to the target. The electromagnetic mass-drivers would send the projectiles faster than a missile, and there was no way to jam or deter it. For a target like a stationary emplacement, it was a devastating weapon. "Shots away, computer tracking."

"Helm, roll to port," Jackson said. "Twenty degrees. Let's make sure they only have a clean shot on one engine not both."

"Rolling to port, aye."

Jackson watched for the next ten minutes, daring to hope his mag-cannon shells would hit before the haphazardly built platform fired its missiles. He could see on the main display it was having trouble keeping a lock on them, switching back and forth between search and acquisition modes as the slim side-profile and smooth lines of the Valkyrie-class proved difficult for the antiquated hardware to keep track of.

"Missiles incoming!" Sparcus called out. "Nine out of the tubes and bearing on us. First stage profiles indicate older version one Shrikes."

"Pursuing ships are accelerating and closing the gap," Hori said. "Now, two hours to weapons range."

"Let's manage the incoming barrage first," Jackson said. "Even a single Shrike warhead getting through will put an end to this real fast. Time to our shots hitting the platform?"

"Under four minutes, sir," Sparcus said. "Incoming missiles are twenty-one minutes out. They had an advantage with a head-on quartering shot."

"We won't outrun them," Jackson said. "Helm, cut engine power. Keep us on our gravity assist trajectory."

"Engines answering idle, aye."

"When the missiles go to final acquisition and light their second stages, I want the Nemesis turned into their path. Put her prow right on them. Tactical, you're authorized to command ship movements."

"Aye, sir."

The maneuver would present the smallest possible profile to the incoming missiles, but it also exposed a lot of sensitive areas of the ship like the sensor radomes and superstructure. Most captains preferred to pitch the prow up and present their ventral armor at an angle, but that meant only one quadrant of the point defense would be able to try an intercept.

Jackson was gambling on all or nothing. Either they stopped all the missiles, or the mission would come to a screeching halt. Aegis would likely survive the destruction of the ship, at least initially. If nobody knew what to look for, it would just eventually fall into the roiling gas giant below them.

"Impact on enemy platform!" Hori said. "Seven shells hit. There's practically nothing left. Threat neutralized."

"Good work. Let's make it through the salvo they got off, and then we'll be on to the next challenge."

"Countermeasures active, Admiral. Forward jammers are targeting all incoming missiles. Point defense standing by." Lieutenant Commander Sparcus was calmly orchestrating the Nemesis's response through his headset, talking to CIC, defensive system operations, and gunnery. Linking all those elements together were the powerful tactical computers that shouldered the bulk of the complex calculations needed to accurately send munitions hurtling through space.

Jackson sat calmly as his crew took care of their business. At this point, the only thing he would do is get in their way, so he sat quietly and tried to project an aura of calm almost to the point of being detached and bored. The original Shrikes the old AU had loaded into those launchers had probably been fifty years old before that and sitting in a munitions bunker in space somewhere. Judging by their tepid acceleration curves on the first stage boosters, it didn't look like anybody had bothered to upgrade them.

"Three are going ballistic," Sparcus reported. "Jammers cooked the guidance. Six remaining are going full active and turning in on us. Forward batteries primed to fire on computer command."

The six remaining missiles were all painting the Nemesis with active radar and converging on each other as they aimed for the destroyer's prow like a pack of excited dogs on the scent. Jackson wasn't actually too concerned about these antiques landing a killing blow on his ship. What he was more interested in was why the Alliance thought flicking on this rickety old missile trap would be anything more than a minor nuisance. He still felt like there was something he was missing, some vital clue that would make Sinacore's overall strategy make sense.

"Forward batteries firing. Two— Check that, five missiles disabled. Last one has lost guidance and is veering off course. Threat board is—" Sparcus was cut off by a blinding flash that washed out the forward optics and forced the main display to dim.

"One of the warheads was triggered," Hori said. "Close range, five-hundred k-ton class."

"Damage report," Jackson ordered.

"No structural damage reported. Multiple sensors were taken out, including long-range optics and forward sector infrared," Hori said. "No injuries, no deaths."

"Helm, all ahead full and continue along our planned trajectory," Jackson said. "OPS, tell engineering they're to coordinate all damage control efforts. I can do without the long-range optics, but we can't have any gaps in our IR coverage."

"All ahead full, aye!"

"Engineering is already on it, sir," Hori said. "They're not detecting any radiation in the forward compartments, so they'll be pulling replacement imagers from the spares kits and getting us back up and running."

Jackson looked over the tactical display before keying his headset.

"You were observing, I hope?"

"Of course," Aegis answered. "I'm not certain if the ploy with the old missile platform was misdirection or desperation. It couldn't have been meant to actually slow this ship down. You have more experience with our presumed enemy commander, what do you think? Your answer will help me determine what their next move might be."

"Sinacore doesn't go for games or smoke and mirrors," Jackson said. "He's a straight-forward, classical doctrine, close and kill type of fleet master. With the numbers in his favor and that alien weapon at his disposal, he'd have no need to break with his usual tactics to beat me. That being said, he's not stupid, so he would know nine antique missiles wouldn't slip through our defense screens. The pursuing ships accelerated during the attack, but now they're matching speed again and keeping their distance. I feel like we're not seeing something obvious here."

"I will keep analyzing the problem," Aegis said.

"Please, do."

32

Russo sat through the pre-recorded brief that the flagship had sent out regarding the first skirmish of the Second Battle of Xinjia. Admiral Sinacore had shown some low-resolution sensor footage of the Nemesis wasting one of the system's missile defense platforms, and then shrugging off nine ship-buster Shrikes without even slowing down. He wasn't sure if this was supposed to bolster the crews or demoralize them knowing the Fed destroyer was still pushing down into the system in spite of Abyss hampering their RDS engines.

The part that did get his attention was that Sinacore admitted the longer Abyss was in active mode, the more aggressive it was becoming in who it targeted. Any Alliance ship that did so much as run a targeting system test had their engines shut down. The team on the weapon itself said they'd lost the ability to direct it, and that they wanted to try a hard reboot. Sinacore overruled them, not wanting to kill power to the weapon and risk the Nemesis transitioning to warp and escaping, thus giving Wolfe another chance to look at the problem and change his tactics.

He had sat back waiting. Hoping Wolfe would find a way to end his nightmare, foolishly thinking he might even live through it, but that wasn't to be. It was time to begin enacting the plan he'd come up with back when he'd been lying in his rack next to Ella Ersk, expecting at any time she was going to try and kill him. He'd been absolutely certain she knew he was a CIS Agent and was just toying with him but, after they'd parted, he realized she might have actually been developing feelings for him over the time they'd worked together. Intelligence was a lonely line of work. Ersk may have had the reputation as Makov's ice-hearted assassin but, like nearly every other human, she still wished for some sort of connection with somebody else.

For some reason, the fact he'd fooled her so completely didn't give him any job satisfaction as it once might have. In fact, he felt rather scummy over the whole affair. Not that he for one second thought Ella wasn't a horrific human being who had caused untold suffering, usually with far more brutality than was necessary. No, it was because if Ella was the embodiment of evil as she seemed to be, then what was he? What he was realizing was that nobody saw themselves as the bad guy in their own story. Ella had perhaps latched onto him in an effort to reaffirm that to herself.

"Captain, there's another message coming in from the flagship. It's from Admiral Sinacore, and it’s to you personally,” the XO said. “Shall I send it to the secure com room?”

“Please, do, XO," Russo said, standing. "You have the bridge."

The Koshmar had four tiny, soundproof alcoves with their own hatches where sensitive communications or intelligence could be viewed. It was a throwback to the days when the ship had aimlessly patrolled between Warsaw Alliance worlds to fly the flag and her officers were from politically connected families that liked to use the ship to conduct non-official business.

"Captain Russo, please, forgive this breach of protocol in reaching out to you personally," Admiral Sinacore began when Russo had started the pre-recorded message. He'd met the admiral a few times and still had no idea how he'd climbed the ranks as he had. The man had a personality and presence akin to plain oatmeal. The word bland seemed tailor made to describe everything from his demeanor to his appearance.

"Now that we have the Nemesis on the run, we hope to tie up this operation quickly and move on to the Solar System to put down what remains of the Federation. Normally, I would be talking to Admiral—Commodore—Kohl about this, but I've been informed you have been handling the day-to-day operation of his fleet. I am messaging you so you will be prepared when we begin moving our forces out of the Xinjia System. I am moving nine squadrons—nearly half of our main force—out immediately to be our vanguard, establishing a defensive formation at a rally point outside of the Solar System.

"This means that defense of Xinjia will fall to Kohl's fleet. With Abyss holding Jackson Wolfe at bay, your ships should have little trouble running him down and putting an end to the threat. The remaining ships under my command will hold the boundary, and then transition out. Your orders are to remain behind in the Xinjia System as a rearguard against the unlikely chance another Federation force is on its way. Our best intelligence states that 1st and 4th Fleet units that remained loyal are massed around Earth.

"That is all, Captain. Sinacore, out."

Russo just stood there, digesting the message and its implications. Two things stood out. First, Sinacore didn't trust, need, or even want Vadim Kohl's fleet. He would take Earth on his own, and he wasn't shy about that. Second, with Wolfe pinned down by Abyss, the admiral was overconfident the battle was over before it had really even started.

Wolfe had cleared the sixth planet and was on his way down. The Nemesis was a tough nut to crack even running on MPD engines, and there was every chance he would be able to take out Abyss and free up the rest of his forces. Sinacore was discounting that possibility and was anxious to get his forces moving towards what he no doubt saw as his crowning achievement: The defeat of the United Terran Federation and the subjugation of Earth. That operation would guarantee he had a place at the table when the Unity restructured everything. Just being the guy who sat back and defended Xinjia wouldn't do it.

It was also a strange way for Russo to receive these orders, which made him think something was up. Even as fucked up as the ESA power structure was right now, with nobody quite knowing who was actually running the show, all deployment orders were still being routed through Alliance Fleet Command. Now, he was getting personal video messages from the theater commander with no documentation to back it up. He felt like he was being set up to take the fall for something, but he couldn't quite see what it might be.

He used the secure com terminal in the alcove to send an acknowledgment of orders from his own credentials along with a message that he understood and would redeploy his forces accordingly. Whatever the hell was about to happen, he had a feeling his window of opportunity to enact his plan had just narrowed considerably.

"You didn't go with the rest of the leadership?"

"I wasn't asked," Sam Trapp said. "You?"

"Just— Ah!!" the man's cry ended in a strangled choke as he drown from a crushed larynx. She felt a mild pang of remorse as the man didn't deserve such a brutal end, but she could only work with what she had. The people who had been watching her would have been on alert if she'd tried to procure a weapon of any kind.

She was deep beneath a building on the government campus that housed the Office of Information Logistics. It was an innocuous name for a bureaucratic branch that controlled the flow of information and media within the ESA. The office was completely under the control of Councilman Chan, and it was one of the main tools the Unity had used to steer the ESA where they needed it.

The man she had been visiting was a high-level controller that she had cultivated a friendship with during his visits to brief the Unity leadership. Through carefully guided conversations, she'd learned he was the one she was looking for. The man with the keys to the whole damn castle.

Makov, Chan, Pak, and the others may have been a ruthless cabal, but they were still governmental bureaucrats at heart, and their instincts to keep meticulous records was too deeply ingrained for them to ignore. The controller she'd just killed was one of the small team who had been charged with protecting the documentation. A huge chunk of it was blackmail material the cabal had been keeping on politicians, community leaders, industrialists, and others. Anybody they could find dirt on that carried any sort of influence in either the ESA or the Federation was in there.

In addition to that, the isolated, standalone servers contained an archive of communications between members. It was the entire record of how they subverted two powerful nations and convinced them to go to war with each other.

It had taken her weeks to work her way into his trust to the point that he vouched for her when she asked to see the data center. Since he'd seen her speaking with Makov on friendly terms on more than one occasion, he wrongfully assumed she enjoyed his trust completely as well. His fatal error had been not questioning why someone that had been introduced as an intel asset had been wanting to look at a wall full of server racks in the first place. He should have alerted security the moment after she asked him, but his infatuation had overridden his good sense.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry," she said to the dead man. "You certainly didn't deserve it. That's true of us all in some way, I guess."

Trapp worked quickly to secure the terminal the man had been working at in case it auto-locked. With him being dead, there would be little chance of another biometric reading to get back in if that happened. She used his god credentials to disable all the security alerts that would normally flag at the desk ten floors above her. After that, she was able to pull a data card from a compartment in her shoe and load it onto the terminal. It was something she had received from the people Admiral Xiao was able to link up with, a group of military dissidents trying to stop the Unity from within. The program script—assuming the group was legit and not a sting operation looking for traitors—would bundle all the server data and prep it for transmission.

Once it was running, Trapp went to a utility locker and grabbed one of the reels of high-bandwidth data cable and opened the vault door. The underground had showed her on a building schematic that there was an unsecure public data tap on this level, but it was behind a wall she would have to break down. Luckily, the walls were the typical thin, flimsy synthetic material that seemed to sheath the inside of all government buildings.

"This seems to be going too easily," she said to herself as she kicked a hole in the wall. She connected the cable and fed the reel out back through the vault door and to the terminal where her covert program told her it was ready to begin transmission. The amount of data was staggering so, once it started, she'd have to hold the level for the next two hours and hope nobody thought to come down and check on her or the deceased controller.

"Here goes nothing."

She plugged the cable into the interface panel and watched as the program started the data dump. Her original plan had been much more dramatic and involved some sort of improvised explosive and a closed room session with Makov, Chan, Pak, and Ersk. After they'd left the planet in the middle of the night, she'd had no choice but to revert back to Xiao's plan. The admiral assured her this would be a much more deadly blow to the cabal, something that could bring them down even if they survived.

That might have been true, but it wasn't quite as satisfying as blowing them up would have been.

33

"That's the fourth formation breaking off and moving away, sir."

"Is the battle over and nobody bothered to tell us?" Jackson asked rhetorically, staring at the main display in confusion. He'd just fallen asleep when Hori called and told him something strange was happening within the ESA ranks. When he'd gotten back up to the bridge, Sinacore was apparently dismantling his own defensive screens. The three concentric rings of ship formations were breaking up, and a large number of them were pushing uphill for the outer system.

"CENTCOM has confirmed there is no relief fleet inbound," Coms said. "They're saying all available ships are being held back to defend Earth."

"Could Sinacore be pulling off ships to head to Earth, sir?" Hori asked.

"It would be a bold initiative, not something he is really known for. Of course, when you have an alien weapon holding the enemy hostage in this system, he may feel it's a low-risk move," Jackson said. "Coms, please, send a message on our direct link to Admiral Pitt and let him know what we're seeing. Give him the exact numbers from CIC."

"Aye, sir."

"Even if they're heading to Earth, they'll be some weeks away," Hori pointed out.

"He'll need every minute we can give him to get whatever forces he can marshal and get ready to fight. From what I'm hearing, the situation back home has deteriorated rapidly," Jackson told her. "Pitt will be fighting a political apparatus that will likely be trying to make Sinacore's job easier. Are any of these departing formations going to get close enough to Risher's ships to detect them?"

"Broadsword's CIC is tracking them and says no. They're not running any active emitters, but they have all of their defensive and offensive systems powered up and ready in case someone comes too close," Hori said after a moment of speaking into her headset. The high-bandwidth Bluebird link that networked all the Wolfpack ships together was a seismic shift in how managing a taskforce over such vast differences was done. Back when he commanded the 9th Squadron, there would be hours of com lag when using traditional radios.

"Aegis, what do you make of this?" Jackson asked.

"They are supremely confident in their ability to hold you at bay with their gravity weapon," Aegis said into his headset. "There is nothing of strategic value elsewhere in the Xinjia System. You must take the planet to win the battle, so they will consolidate their defenses there knowing Nemesis is the only ship that can maneuver against them. They will have the ability to shield the weapon against any attack you might throw at it, negating your strategy of trying to force it away from the planet."

"What are you trying to say?"

"You may either attack now and risk hitting the planet with the mag-cannons, or you can disengage and live to fight another day. This ship is the toughest vessel currently fielded by humanity, and she wouldn't have a chance of breaking through a defensive screen that dense. I am sorry, Admiral. Unless circumstances change soon, we have failed. Without the ability to bring the Mickey fleet to bear, this is an exercise in futility…and a risky one at that. Losing you in this system will be a demoralizing blow to the Federation it wouldn't likely survive."

Jackson digested what the computer told him, its words feeling like broken glass sliding down his throat. The Xinjia operation had gone from being a lock with Aegis to being a boondoggle from the moment he'd transitioned into the system. Now, he only had one quarter of his taskforce still in play…one ship. Nobody could win a battle against a fortified enemy in their home system with a single ship. Not even the mighty Jericho could have battered her way through their lines, so what chance did the smaller, less-armored Nemesis have?

"Tactical, build long-range firing solution to the alien weapon below for both the mag-cannons and Shrikes. Let's see what the numbers look like, and then we'll be able to make a more informed decision. If we can't shut that thing down, we can't leave the system, and neither can our other ships," he finally said. "I know we all have strong feelings about putting the population of Xinjia at risk from collateral damage, but we need to see what is even possible right now."

"Aye, sir," the second watch tactical officer said.

"Admiral, the pursuing ships will close to within optimal weapons range in five hours at current speed," Hori said. "Still no targeting scans that indicate they're preparing to launch on us."

"Odd. There must be some practical reason why they can't bring up their targeting radar. Something to do with the— Oh, damn," Jackson said.

"Sir?"

"Tactical, shut down all weapons systems. Defensive, offensive…all of it," Jackson ordered. To her credit, the tactical officer didn't hesitate even a second.

"Weapons and defensive systems powering down, aye. Search and tracking radars coming down. All we have active is anti-collision radar, sir."

"Helm, MPDs to zero thrust. Bring up the RDS engines. One quarter power, if you please."

"MPDs to idle, aye. RDS engines to one quarter."

Immediately, there was a jolt through the deck but different than before.

"Engines answering all ahead one quarter, Admiral. We're moving!"

"All ahead full! Push it!" Jackson said, leaning back into his seat. The helmsman shoved the throttles up, and the Nemesis surged ahead, her pursuers already dropping back.

"Coms, tell Captain Risher to shut down all weaponry on his ships. Nothing that's tied into a tactical system, and then try to move the ships," Jackson said, things clicking in his brain.

"Very clever, Admiral," Aegis said into his headset. "How did you figure it out?"

"There had to be some reason the enemy reactivated that antique missile platform and chased us without taking shots to keep everybody honest," Jackson said. "It was because they couldn't. The minute they brought up their tactical systems, that thing would shut them down, too."

"Which means they don't have full control over the Darshik systems controlling it," Aegis said.

"Unfortunately, this only buys me time. Being able to move and not shoot doesn't solve our problem," Jackson said. "We can evade here in the mid-system easily enough, but down near Xinjia, it'll be too crowded. Once we switch back over to MPDs so we can get a shot off, we'll be toast. If it was a matter of just sacrificing a single ship it's a strategy to be explored. Having you—not to mention Dr. Ito—aboard means I can't take the risk."

"I still cannot guarantee I can put a Mickey close enough to get a shot off without crossing a risk threshold you have deemed as unacceptable to the planet," Aegis said.

"Which is the same problem the Super Valkyrie's have," Jackson sighed. "If I send Risher down, it'll be even worse. He might get some Shrikes off, but then he'll be swarmed under."

"Admiral, Captain Risher reports that Taskforce Wolfpack is now underway. He's asking for orders, sir," Hori said.

"Tell him to stay put for now, and that we're coming back up to him," Jackson said. "We need to regroup. Helm, prepare a warp hop for the outer system, sector Delta-Three and prepare to form up with our other ships."

"Plotting course now. Standing by for clearance from engineering to engage the warp drive, sir."

Running away into the outer system was the choice Jackson liked the least, but just flying around waiting for a lucky shot to slip through their defenses didn't do anybody any good either. He needed something to break loose and give him an opportunity to hit that goddamn alien weapon, otherwise this was just a long flight out for nothing.

"Admiral, our movement has definitely got their attention," Commander Hawkins said over the bridge speakers. "Com traffic among the enemy ships has intensified dramatically, and some units are changing course. Projections indicate they're angling for a reciprocal course to come back downhill. The lead units are still accelerating for the Haven jump point."

"Track those ships and make sure Earth his getting updates on who might be showing up," Jackson said.

"Aye, sir."

Jackson watched the tracks on his display, seeing what Hawkins was talking about as most of the outbound ships changed their course. It would put them on a long loop around the system and put them out of play for the few days it would take them to come back into range to defend Xinjia. The good news—what little there was at the moment—was that so many RDS signatures running at full power would muddy the waters and allow the Nemesis to disappear off their scopes.

In hindsight, it would have been better to let Sinacore's forces leave the system and then test his theory about the alien weapon. He'd been so eager to get Aegis out of range of the pursuing ships that he hadn't considered the overall tactical picture. Stupid mistake that now had enemy ships flying all about the system rather than just concentrated near the target.

"Admiral, we're cleared for warp flight. We can transition on your order, sir," the helmsman reported.

"Execute," Jackson said. As the Nemesis shuddered and disappeared from real-space, all he could do was hope for a bit of luck.

34

"Captain Russo to the bridge immediately!"

Russo looked up in annoyance. Why had that gone out over the shipwide intercom instead of to his personal comlink? He patted his pockets and realized he didn't have it on him. It must still be on the console near his seat on the bridge. The stress of the operation wore on him, and he was missing the little things.

He quickly collected the things he'd come to his quarters to retrieve and concealed it all within his uniform. With one last look around his quarters, he walked out and closed the hatch behind him. No matter what happened in the next few hours, he'd not be coming back there again. The Koshmar was still flying an elliptical holding orbit around the yellow moon, Golden Major. There were other ships in the area, but they were in orbit over the planet, only passing below the moon every nine hours or so. They wouldn't be a factor in what he had planned.

"Report!" he barked as he walked onto the bridge. He retrieved his comlink from where he left it as the ship's second officer scrambled over to him.

"Sir! We received word from Admiral Sinacore's flagship. The Nemesis has figured out how to defeat Abyss," he said. "Wolfe's ship powered down her weapons, and Abyss let her go. The ship initiated a warp hop and disappeared from radar. We have not been able to reacquire her."

"We're not on the line right now, Commander. Was this news really so urgent you needed to shout at me over the shipwide?"

"No, sir! The reason for the summons was because leadership wants Abyss moved. They want a random pattern shift to make sure it can't be hit with a kinetic strike from farther out in the system."

"I see," Russo said. "Don't want them using the same trick against us that Kohl used on them. Very well. I will program Abyss's new course movements."

"I can manage to—"

"I am sure you can, Commander. However, the responsibility falls to me. To your post."

"Aye, sir."

It now was clear why the leadership had ordered the Koshmar to remain so close to Golden Major. Since Abyss's navigation controls remained aboard Kohl's ship, they wanted her close to more quickly relay orders. He sat at the secure terminal that had been hastily installed on the bridge and logged in, but not with his own credentials. Instead, he used those of the lead scientist of the Abyss Project. During the ordeal of bringing the weapon to Xinjia, he'd been able to obtain the high-level clearance. It had been mostly out of habit as an intelligence operative, but now it was integral to his plan.

He quickly entered in his script commands, overrode the warnings it produced, and then locked out the navigation terminal. Ironically, the Unity's paranoia about putting too much power over key assets in the hands of one person would be what sparked their demise. Or at least Russo hoped it would be the spark.

"I have other duties to attend to," he said to the second officer. "Please, use my comlink if you need me. Otherwise, you are in command."

"Understood, sir."

Russo was a bit lightheaded as he left the bridge. He could scarcely believe the moment had come and, now that it had, he felt as if he were having an out of body experience. He waved off his own security detail and walked through the corridor alone. Over the course of the weeks since anybody had seen Kohl on the bridge, Russo had incrementally pulled off his security details claiming the commodore didn't wish to be fussed over and the locked hatch would be sufficient. He had gone from two guards, to one, to interval patrols in the corridor.

Entry into Kohl's quarters was tightly controlled, and only his most trusted people had access, Russo being one of them. He checked the corridor one more time before letting himself in and locking the hatch behind him. When he walked in, he was happy to see that none of the caregivers were there but disappointed Vadim Kohl looked to be in no shape to have a conversation. The man was slumped over in his wheelchair and drooling onto his shirt.

"Vadim Kohl, wake up," Russo said, slapping the man across the face hard enough to rock his head back. Amazingly, it worked. Kohl's eyes fluttered open and focused on him.

"What is the meaning of this, Captain? Am I needed on the bridge?" he slurred.

"Nobody needs you. You're a cancer, Vadim. A cowardly wretch of a man so consumed with his own self-delusions that you murdered billions to prove you were equal to a man who barely knew you existed."

"How dare you speak to me so! You will explain yourself or so help me—

"Shut up and listen, you malignant sack of shit. My name isn't Captain Russo. It's Agent Russo, of the United Terran Federation. I have dishonored myself and my service by not killing you the instant I realized how insane you were. It is something I'm happy to say I can now correct."

Russo pulled a compact sidearm from under his uniform tunic. It was a suppressed pistol his contacts on Xinjia had given him, loaded with soft rounds that would not punch through a starship's bulkheads but would nicely punch through Vadim Kohl's skull.

"What do you plan to do with that, Agent?"

"You know what's about to happen. It's less than you deserve, but I have no faith that a universe that let you rise to prominence would ever have you see justice for what you've done. Before you die, just know I'm going to undo your entire legacy. Abyss, the Unity…all of it. Brought low by just some CIS Agent you were stupid enough to allow into your inner circle."

"Then do it."

"As you wish." Russo raised the weapon and fired two rounds into Kohl's chest and another into his head. The gurgling sigh that escaped the dead man's lips almost sounded relieved.

"That was a bit of a letdown," Russo muttered, digging through Kohl's desk. He found the command keycard he looked for along with another laminated card with Kohl's personal passcodes. He just shook his head at the man's hubris. It wasn't that he was too stupid to memorize the series of ten-character codes needed to secure ship functions, it was that he was so arrogant and sure of his crew's absolute loyalty he didn't think he should have to. Since Russo had served under him, Kohl had always written down all his passcodes and passwords.

As he pawed through Kohl's desk the general alarm sounded through the ship and his comlink chirped with the emergency tone. He pulled it out and accepted the alert request.

"Captain Russo," he said.

"Sir! The Abyss weapon crew is calling and saying there is something wrong!"

"They have a support ship standing by to render aid if they—"

"No, sir! It's something wrong with navigation. They say it's accelerating too fast and altering course dangerously."

"I'm on my way," Russo said, smiling to himself.

"What is happening?!"

"Things are spiraling out of control, it would seem," Chan said calmly.

The Unity Inner Circle, as they had dubbed themselves, sat in an opulent operations center watching the battle unfold deep in their bunker under the surface of Golden Major. They'd been in high spirits, sipping expensive fruity wine and clapping each other on the backs as the Nemesis had been chased all around the system, limping along on her emergency backup thrusters.

Then the first thing went wrong.

A call from Xinjia let them know there had been a massive data breach, and that the contents of their private servers had somehow been dumped into the public domain. That was horrific but not pressing. Their control of the Alliance Council was absolute, and with that in their pocket, there was little the public could do with the information but shake their fists impotently. The news had dampened the festive mood somewhat, but things were still going to plan.

Then Wolfe caught on to what was keeping his ship trapped. He shut down his weapon systems and quickly escaped, transitioning out of the area and off their sensors. This caused some panic, and Makov had immediately recalled Admiral Sinacore's forces to protect the planet. Chan and Pak both turned on him at that point since they had argued against prematurely sending those forces towards Earth until Wolfe had been dealt with once and for all.

And now, something happened that dwarfed both of those previous disasters.

Abyss was falling from the sky.

They'd sent a message to the Koshmar asking that the weapon be put on a randomized course correction program to keep it from being an easily hit static target. Instead, the damn thing had gone to full burn and descended towards Xinjia. They'd been frantically trying to get in touch with Captain Russo aboard his ship but, so far, had only been able to raise his idiot second officer.

"Ersk! Get a hold of someone on that ship who knows what the fuck is happening right now!" Pak barked.

"What do you think I'm doing?" she snapped, not looking up from the com terminal she'd just tossed an operator from. She frantically punched in the direct channel request codes she knew would go straight to the bridge of the Koshmar.

"Ms. Ersk," Captain Russo greeted her when the channel was finally accepted. "We are a little busy at the moment."

"What the fuck happened?" she hissed.

"Something went wrong with the course corrections you requested," Russo said, completely unruffled. In fact, was that a faint smile on his face? "We're re-entering the grid coordinates now."

"There's no time for that! Get that thing up away from the planet!"

"Not to worry," Russo said, seeming not to hear her. "Things are completely under control. Trust me."

The channel went dead before she could reply. She tried twice to reestablish the connection, but they went unanswered. The room fell silent as they all turned and watched what had been their ace in the hole, their crowning jewel, as it continued to streak across Xinjia's sky.

Things are completely under control. Trust me.

Ersk had a realization that, in hindsight, seemed obvious. Her infatuation with Russo, which was more about subverting Kohl's most trusted ally than any real interest in Russo himself, had caused her to let her guard down. It never occurred to her that he might be playing her…until right then.

"Ella? What's going on?" Makov asked. She turned and looked at the three principles of the group.

"I-I think it's time to consider calling in one of Sinacore's light cruisers for an extraction," she said. "It's possible the Koshmar has been compromised and that we might lose Abyss."

"Lose it? Makov what is this woman gibbering about?!" Chan demanded.

Makov didn't answer. He just stared at the status screens as if he could will them to show some good news, some way the operation could be salvaged. Ersk understood what he must be feeling. The Xinjia operation to stop Wolfe was supposed to be a formality. Abyss was supposed to stop him cold while Sinacore wiped out his forces so they could move on to Earth and hammer their home defense fleet. Generations of work to get to this moment, and it teetered on the edge in the blink of an eye.

"Makov?" Chan asked again.

"We have no choice now. We will have to trust that our forces can handle the setback of losing Abyss if the Koshmar crew can't arrest its descent. Leaving is no longer an option for us. There is no place left to go."

"Captain, we must do something!"

"Entering course corrections now, Commander. Calm yourself or remove yourself from my bridge," Russo said, pretending to work frantically at the Abyss navigation console. He only needed to stall for another seven minutes, and then it would be too late. Abyss would be in Xinjia's grasp, and her engines wouldn't have the power to break free. Even if they shot him in the head and perfectly executed the commands to reverse the weapon's course, it would still burn up in the planet's atmosphere.

"Abyss is tumbling. The weapon crew is abandoning ship," the OPS officer said. "Xinjia Orbital Control has issued a distress call."

For the next few minutes, Russo continued his charade of trying to save the stricken weapon platform. The bridge crew was tense and silent as they watched Abyss begin to glow along the leading edges from heating in the upper reaches of the thermosphere. Once Abyss fell below a thousand kilometers above Xinjia, he sent the final command to lock out all navigation functions.

"Abyss is no longer answering move commands," he said. "There is nothing I can do."

"How did this happen?" the second officer asked.

"He did this," the XO snarled, turning on Russo. "He had to have. We haven't seen Commodore Kohl for weeks, and then this traitor assumes control of Abyss, and it just happens to tumble into the atmosphere? He's a saboteur! I've suspected him for months, and now we know."

"I have warned you once, Commander," Russo said calmly. "There will not be another."

"Can't you see what he's done?! He's just opened the door for Wolfe! This was a setup the entire time!"

"Marines!" Russo barked. "Arrest the XO and restrain him in the brig. Get him off my bridge."

The Marines posted at the bridge hatchway reacted immediately and rushed to seize the XO. Russo had a pang of remorse as they roughly slammed him to the deck when he tried resisting, and then dragged him off the bridge in restraints, still screaming. The guy was actually spot on in what he was accusing Russo of, but where he got it wrong was that he wasn't a traitor. He was an Agent doing his job.

"You're the executive officer now," he said, pointing a finger at the second officer. "Coms! Is the base on Golden Major still trying to reach us?"

"Negative, sir. The moon has gone silent."

"They likely fear an imminent attack now that, well…" The new XO gestured to the main display where the high-res thermal optics showed Abyss breaking apart as it hit the denser mesosphere.

"They're probably right," Russo said. "But Wolfe's force is still small, and we are many. Everybody to their post, and we'll wait to see what happens. With any luck, he took the chance to escape, and they're already in warp flight heading back to Earth. The day is not yet lost."

He flopped back into his seat, exhausted but immensely satisfied. Killing Abyss was a decisive, battle-changing blow for the Federation. Now, Jackson Wolfe would sweep in with his superships and whatever forces he brought and begin clearing the Xinjia rat nest out. This wouldn't blot out the nightmares from Odmena, Brabus, or the images of four smoldering rocks that used to be populated planets at the hands of the psychopath he'd been working for, but it would give him some measure of peace for the short time he had left. There was little doubt his own CIC worked feverishly to find out what happened to Abyss. They would probably figure out what he did, and then it would be all over.

35

"That was definitely it, Admiral. Whatever that alien construct was, it just crashed into Xinjia. The last image we captured was it breaking up in the upper atmosphere."

"We're certain it was that thing and not a ship mishap?" Jackson turned to face his OPS officer.

"CIC is certain, sir," Hori said. "Whatever it was, it's burning up over Xinjia as of four hours ago."

The taskforce had reformed so far out into the system to avoid detection that their signal and light intel was delayed by hours. Aegis provided predicted real-time positioning using the RDS detection grids and the available passive intel, but it left a lot open to guesswork at this distance.

"OPS, coordinate with the other three ships," Jackson said. "I want the battlespace divided into three sectors with a Super Valkyrie at the top of each observing and recording. We'll be heading downhill as well, but we're not as stealthy so we'll need to hang back. It's critical that what's about to happen is documented as thoroughly as possible. When we go back home, we need to able to show that we did what we did with the utmost attempt to save human lives."

"Talking to the other ships now, sir," Hori said, giving him an odd look.

"Aegis…showtime."

"Deploying battlegroups now, Admiral," Aegis said over the speakers.

Over the next five hours, the activity was at a fever pitch as the manned ships transitioned back down into the system, taking up observation posts while Aegis deployed its forces throughout the area of operation. Even in warp flight, the time down into the inner system was some hours, so they had time to get everything coordinated and set before the first ships started to transition back into real-space.

Aegis's control over its ships was so precise that every Mickey popped back into real-space within three seconds of each other. Jackson couldn't imagine what was happening on Sinacore's bridge as four hundred and fifty warships just appeared amongst his carefully arranged defensive formations.

"My ships are in position, Admiral," Aegis reported. Less than ten minutes later—just enough time for the Alliance commanders to really get worked up into a panic—the Nemesis arrived down near Xinjia. She was proudly lit up with her navigation and ident beacon letting everyone in the area know exactly who had arrived.

"You're on, sir," the com officer said.

"This is Admiral Jackson Wolfe aboard the United Terran Federation warship, Nemesis," he began, his words being broadcast on all open-net channels. "By now, you will have noticed the hundreds of ships I have deployed throughout your formations. These ships are from the same weapon system you saw wipe out one of your mainline battle fleets in the Odessa System in a matter of hours.

"I am holding Aegis in check right now. I will give you one chance—and once chance only—to surrender the Xinjia System to me, hand over the war criminals of the Terran Unity, including Vadim Kohl, and begin an orderly draw down of your forces. Failure to comply with all of those demands will result in the complete annihilation of your fleet. I am assuming you are under the command of Admiral Amadeo Sinacore. Admiral I beg you not to underestimate this threat or test my resolve. Your people don't have to die here today, but I will not allow the Unity to keep its ability to wage war.

"The choice is yours. Admiral Wolfe, out."

"Channel closed," the com officer said.

"You think they'll go for it, sir?" Hori asked.

"Multiple ships have opened fire on ours," Aegis said. "Taking evasive action."

"I guess not," Jackson said wearily. He looked at the threat board, now drawing real-time telemetry from the Mickey fleet, and saw that dozens of ships all over the system had opened fire on his forces. It wasn't just one captain with a hair trigger. "Aegis, take them to school."

"Acknowledged, Admiral."

Makov watched impassively as hundreds of Federation ships ripped into his fleet like a pack of rabid wolves. They hadn't fully understood the reality of the Fed's new superweapon, but there was no denying what they were seeing. Somehow, Jackson Wolfe had taken the concept of the Phage and adapted it to human warships. The coordination and speed of the attacks was terrifying, but he appeared unconcerned.

"What do we do? Order Sinacore to surrender? Live to fight another day?" Pak asked.

"We still have the numbers," Makov said. "We can win, but it will cost us everything. Either way, we have no other choice but to let this play out as it will. There will be no escaping for us."

"With Abyss off the table, our plans are blown, Makov," Chan spoke up. "Say we survive here…then what? We'll have nothing to make a move on Earth with!"

"Our victory over Earth and the Federation scraps will need to be political. That is an area we excel at and something Wolfe's ships cannot strip away from us," Makov said. "Those who came before us and laid this plan out had setbacks and defeats of their own. This is how we're tested and how we prove we are worthy."

It was a rousing speech, something Makov had a real talent for. But Ella Ersk was an expert in reading body language and had been around Makov for many years. She could see he was terrified, but too controlled to let it show in front of the others. Their Golden Major base was reinforced and buried so deep the weapons aboard Wolfe's ship posed them little threat. It would take a ground attack or a specialized type of munition to hit the bunker complex. Ship-to-ship weapons just couldn't penetrate deep enough.

They communicated through one of the Bluebird pairs Wren Ives had given them to coordinate the attack with Admiral Sinacore so there were no emissions leaving the moon to give them away. She had no doubt the Unity Inner Circle would survive this battle, but then what?

She still hadn't let the others know she suspected Vincent Russo had destroyed Abyss deliberately. Given the amount of time she had spent with him aboard the Koshmar, it would only serve to make them question her loyalty. The slaughter of their forces continued on the screens unabated while the three principles of the Unity bickered with each other about how best to capitalize on their victory. She couldn't tell if they were all just posturing for each other's sake, or if they'd finally been driven mad by the stress of the situation.

So far, the initial contact had heavily favored Wolfe's forces. The precise, synchronized warp hops into the system caught everyone off-guard, and Aegis's ability to move its ships with such tight coordination meant the Alliance lost nearly one hundred ships while the Feds lost twelve. Given that the Fed ships weren't even crewed, it also meant that Wolfe would be much more aggressive in how he engaged.

He wouldn't be worried about losing his own people because they sat safely in the outer system. Sinacore, however, watched tens of thousands of spacers die in a matter of hours. She almost expected him to defy orders and surrender on his own.

"What are the latest projections?" Makov asked one of the analysts sitting at a terminal. Her job was to compile the data from the teams two floors below them and give the leadership up to the minute information when asked.

"Not good, sir," she said. "The warp hop capability of the enemy ships and the precise control applied means they are jumping entire formations from place to place."

"I asked for projections not commentary," Makov snapped.

"Our fleet will be wiped out within the next fifty-five hours while the Federation fleet will remain at nearly sixty percent strength. They are attacking our most powerful ships first and are still winning decisively. Once they go after the slower, older ships, the battle will swing their way quickly. I'm sorry, sir."

There was a stunned silence that followed her frank answer. Facing the raw numbers that showed they had no chance to win the day wasn't something Makov had been ready for. Ersk watched the emotions flit across his face, finally settling on grim resolve.

Uh, oh.

"If this is to be our final stand, then we shall do it with our heads held high. You cannot kill an idea, and the Unity is just that…an idea. We may fall, but the Unity will live on."

"Who the fuck are you talking to?" Pak asked, looking around. "There's nobody here but us, you pompous fool. You're giving recruitment speeches while Sinacore is out there being bled out. Call this off, Makov."

"I will not," Makov said stiffly. "They wouldn't allow us to live even if I did."

"It's not about us anymore!" Pak shouted. "Look at the goddamn screen! There are over two hundred thousand spacers out there who are going to die for your fucking pride!"

"If you cannot comport yourself accordingly, you can remove yourself from our presence," Makov said, turning his back on Pak and Chan. Ersk saw that Pak's words had found a nerve, however. Makov's left hand had a tremor in it, and his bottom lip quivered just slightly as he looked at the status boards with big, glassy eyes.

She sighed to herself, turning away. The Unity had failed. All that work by great men and women only for the big moment to be squandered by petty little tyrants squabbling over how they would divide something they didn't even possess yet. If they didn't kill each other, whatever government—or governments—that arose from the ashes of the ESA and UTF would certainly hunt these three down and make an example of them. Ella, as she always did, would quietly disappear into the background noise and start again somewhere else.

Maybe she'd give Earth a try.

"This is a slaughter."

Russo wasn't sure who had whispered it, but they were just saying what everyone else was thinking. Admiral Sinacore was being decimated by Wolfe's Aegis fleet. Some sick fuck in CIC had taken the liberty of looking up the crew complements of all their vessels and had a running death count going on the main display that went up in great leaps whenever another Alliance ship was blown out of the sky.

What had begun as a smug, warm feeling for having knocked out Abyss without anyone being the wise had turned into gut-churning guilt as he saw tens of thousands of people die from Wolfe's forces savagely tearing into them. The slower, human-controlled Alliance ships stood no chance. Worse still, some had decided the fight was unwinnable and broke for the cover of the outer system. No longer within the protection of overlapping defensive fire, these ships didn't last long.

"Does anybody have any contacts in the mainline fleet that would know why the hell Sinacore isn't surrendering?" he asked his bridge crew.

"I have a friend on the flagship in the intel shop, sir," the com officer spoke up. "The last I heard from him, they're taking their orders from Makov directly, and they've been told to stand and fight to the end. That was about seven hours ago."

"This is insane. We're all just going to die for no reason. Those ships don’t even have crews…just a computer telling them to keep killing us." Russo looked over at his tactical officer and saw there were tears in his eyes.

The crews aboard the Alliance ships weren't cowards. They weren't evil, either. They had been misled, but they were willing to stand up for something they felt was right. Having them get shredded by a cold, uncaring machine was disgraceful. Why the hell didn't Sinacore just tell Makov to shove it?

"Where is the flagship right now?" he asked, realizing he hadn't seen it's designator on the tactical display in a while.

"Running silent, sitting in low orbit over Xinjia," the intel officer said, highlighting the ship on the display. There were some hisses and muttered curses when they realized Sinacore was using the civilian population to shield his own ship.

This had to be stopped.

"XO, I'm going to issue a series of very, very strange orders over the next few minutes," he said. "I need you to back me up, help the crew execute them, and don't ask too many questions."

"Sir?"

"I am going to try and save all of you and, in the process, save as many of those Alliance crews as I can. There are only a few ways this can end, and I'd prefer it not be with all our deaths. Can I count on you?"

"We're with you, sir."

"To the end, Captain," the OPS officer said.

"Hopefully not your end. I want you all to live long, fruitful lives after this."

He debated going over the plan with them but decided keeping them off-balance and reacting to orders rather than thinking too much about them would be key to pulling this off.

"XO, prepare to abandon ship," he said, kicking off the chain of events he knew would be his last actions. "I will take care of Commodore Kohl personally, but make sure everyone gets off including those in the brig and the infirmary."

"I… Yes, sir," the commander said, nodding to the OPS and com officers. "Coms, over the 1MC, if you please, prepare to abandon ship."

"All hands, make ready to abandon ship," the call went out over the shipwide intercom. "This is not a drill. All hands, make ready to abandon ship."

"OPS, inform engineering I will still require propulsion and maneuvering. They're to leave the engine room as is and to ramp the powerplant up to full output."

"Aye…sir."

The bridge crew worked in a daze, not sure what the hell their captain was planning but following him anyway. Russo knew it wasn't entirely out of loyalty, but that keen sense of self-preservation that every human possessed. When someone drowning is tossed a rope, they grab it without worrying too much about where it came from. It was the same reaction for the crew of the Koshmar. Russo gave them a way to live and retain their honor at the same time, and they would seize upon it without asking too many questions…like what exactly their captain planned to do with the ship once they were gone.

The orderly process of preparing to abandon the Koshmar took the better part of an hour. Russo gave them that time to collect their personal belongings, wish their friends and crewmates farewell, and load the lifeboats with time to spare. During this time, he made some pretense of returning to Kohl's quarters to prepare the commodore for departure in his private lifeboat along with Russo once he was done. The ruse worked, and the crew actually became emotional at the thought of their stalwart commodore manning his post with the ship's captain as he tried to save them all.

Though it turned his stomach, Russo let them have that delusion. Anything to get them off the ship.

"Captain Russo, the lifeboats are loaded, and the command crew is prepared to disembark at your order, sir," the acting XO said, standing at attention. Russo straightened and saluted him.

"Very well. The order is given. Abandon ship."

"All hands, abandon ship! All hands, abandon ship!" The automated call went out over the shipwide.

"Fair winds, Captain!" The XO raced after the others on their way to one of the lifeboats tucked up under the bridge overhang of the superstructure.

The ship seemed to grow cold and lonely as the lifeboats blasted away from the hull on chemical rockets. Without the soft murmur of voices or the steady vibration through the deck of thousands of feet, the sounds of the ship herself became deafening. He went to the OPS station and sent the ship's powerplant and propulsion system vitals to the main display where he could keep an eye on them before moving over to navigation, where he was forced to enter a series of command-level override codes before his new course was accepted.

The computer still balked but ultimately complied and locked his target in. Once he was certain the computer wouldn't try to change course on him again, he slipped into the helm station seat and pushed up the throttles to three-quarter power.

The Koshmar thrummed as she moved away from the swarm of lifeboats that organized itself. The tiny ships were programmed to begin docking with each other to make search and rescue an easier task. He checked the distance and time to target, made a few minor adjustments, and then locked the nav station out. After that, he reaffirmed the status of the bridge escape pods, and then tried for force himself to relax.

He had just a few more things to take care of, and then, in a matter of hours, it would be all over.

36

"I'm putting a stop to this."

"You will need to fight them now or fight them later," Aegis said in Jackson's headset. "They have shown time and again there is no middle ground."

To say that Aegis was effective against the Alliance fleet would be a vast understatement. Even the Phage hadn't been able to so easily dominate a battlespace when they'd come against an outdated, outgunned Confederate fleet years ago. So far, Jackson had lost barely twenty ships. The Alliance had lost over ten times that many, and they were now down to the older cruisers, their destroyers already spent.

"This is a bloodbath not a battle. We've broken this fleet. Even if they try to come against us in the Solar System, they've lost everything but a handful of presence ships. They're not imposing their will on Earth with what they have left here," Jackson said.

Jackson watched the battle from the bridge briefing room with the hatch closed. Watching his ships tear into an unprepared Alliance fleet had not filled him with any feeling other than disgust. Warfare shouldn't be this easy for one side. It was supposed to be a terrible thing, and the horrors of war were its own deterrent for any side that wanted to wage it. If one had the ability to inflict this sort of pain on another without suffering any human cost themselves, then they would be far too willing to do so.

As he watched Aegis in action, he realized that, while the system was still quite different than the Phage in that it wasn't self-replicating or self-evolving, it still came with all of the ethical dilemmas the Vruhan had faced.

A far cry from the battles of his time when starships would need to traverse huge distances just to clash for a brief few minutes, hoping to score a killing blow. Now, Aegis could use their warp hop technology to flit about and put its ships at optimum position for every target it engaged.

"Admiral, we're getting an open broadcast alert from the Koshmar coming in," Hori's voice broke in over the speakers. "Captain Russo wants to speak to both sides."

"Put it through," Jackson said. "I'm on my way."

When he walked back onto the bridge, there was a man Jackson had never seen before on the screen standing on the bridge of a ship that looked like it had no crew. He sat and waited for the man in the Alliance Fleet uniform to begin speaking.

"This is Agent Vincent Russo, United Terran Federation speaking from aboard the Alliance ship, Koshmar, where I have been Vadim Kohl's captain for nearly six years, serving as a deep-cover asset for the CIS.

"To the Alliance officers fleeing the horror of Aegis, you cannot win. For the love of everything you hold dear, surrender the system. You have been lied to from the beginning, and I have stood witness to atrocities committed in your name by people who want to bend all of humanity to their will. You're fighting against people who you should be fighting with against a common enemy. Believe me when I tell you that you're fighting for a group of people who don't honor your sacrifice. You're simply a means to an end.

"For Admiral Wolfe, sir, please, show some mercy and call this off. What's left of this fleet can no longer threaten the Federation, and the ESA will be in such disarray for such a long time it wouldn't be in either of our lifetimes before they could try again. Killing the remainder of these brave spacers accomplishes nothing. Killing specific people accomplishes much, however.

"The Unity Inner Circle is currently hiding in a base deep underground on the moon Golden Major. The base is hidden and impregnable from the ship-to-ship weapons we carry. I have a plan to hit the base in such a way it should be destroyed, but it would be prudent for you to follow up with your own ships and ensure the job is finished properly. The flagship of the man who is letting crews waste their lives is currently in low orbit over the planet Xinjia. Admiral Sinacore is a coward, running silent and hiding close to a civilian population. It would be wise to kill him as well.

"I have killed Vadim Kohl. I shot him in his wheelchair, an action I should have taken immediately after the Odmena Massacre. I am broadcasting this message to all humans as a call to sanity before this gets so out of hand there is no coming back. I also want people to remember I was here and that, in the end, I was willing to take the action I failed to take after both Odmena and Brabus.

"Agent Russo, out."

"Holy shit," Hori whispered in a rare lapse of decorum and discipline from her.

"Indeed," Jackson said. "Where is the Koshmar now?"

"Steaming for Golden Major," Sparcus answered. "I think he's taking her on a death ride, sir."

"Why the hell doesn't he use the mag-cannons?" Jackson asked.

"I don't think Koshmar has any, sir," Hori answered. "They're not listed on her original armament when the ship was registered with 8th Fleet."

"Well, we do,” Jackson said. “Coms, try to raise the Koshmar, and tell Agent Russo we're inbound. Tell him to pull off, and we'll handle it if he'll give us the base coordinates."

"Aye, sir."

"Helm! Plot a warp hop down to Golden Major. Put us behind the Koshmar. Aegis, back off. Maintain cover but do not engage until we sort this out. OPS, tell CIC I want to know where Sinacore's ship is."

"Disengaging, Admiral," Aegis said. Jackson looked up and verified the Mickeys were standing down. As the Nemesis prepped to transition, he realized there probably wasn't much he could do to deter Russo. He'd made his choice, and he likely felt it was the only one that would bring him any peace if there was an afterlife.

"TRAITOR!"

The roar preceded three gunshots, one of which hit Russo in the left side of his torso. He'd just signed off from the system-wide broadcast when he was shot.

"I fucking knew it! I knew you did something!" the shooter shouted as Russo crawled behind the dais of the command chair. He looked up and saw the ship's original XO bearing down on him with a standard issue sidearm. Apparently, they let him out of the brig and simply trusted he would go to a lifeboat.

"I'm not a traitor, dumbass. I'm a spy." Russo coughed, and bright red blood splattered onto the deck. "Oh, that's not good."

"You killed the commodore!" the XO shouted, tears standing in his eyes, and the pistol waved at Russo unsteadily. He kept his hands out to his sides as he lay on the floor, bleeding out.

"Kohl was a psychopath," Russo said. "Why follow someone who—" He grabbed the pistol he'd shot Kohl with from his waistband and snapped off two shots, both hitting the XO in the gut. The officer staggered back, his face showing he was in agonizing pain before he collapsed onto the deck. Russo grunted with the effort it took to stand.

"I understand," he said to the fallen man. "I really do. But you're wrong."

He was going to go on, but he could see his audience had already died. Russo looked closer and saw the first shot had hit him right below the sternum and, from the amount of blood, probably in the abdominal aorta. At least it was quick if not painless.

Russo stumbled over to the helm station and slumped into it. He knew he didn't have much time as his left lung was filling with blood and his body went into shock. There were incoming channel requests lighting up the com board from the Nemesis, Golden Major, and half a dozen other Alliance ships. He ignored them and checked that the ship was still on course.

Thankfully, Golden Major was tidally locked with its planet, and he would be able to hit the base at a perpendicular angle. The impact of four hundred thousand tonnes of starship hitting the surface at almost half a million kilometers per hour would undoubtedly kill everyone below the surface. He knew it was complete overkill, but now that he was mortally wounded, he liked the idea that he’d go out with a bang.

He overrode all the safety locks and pushed the engines to their limit, ramping them up to one-hundred and eleven percent of maximum. Once they’d settled out, he broke the copper wire on the safety hoods for the six emergency booster engines in the aft of the ship and flipped up the switches to arm them.

The moon filled the forward windows as the computer blared alarms at him to pull out. He'd used his command codes to disable the failsafes so nothing would be intervening to try and stop him. Just when he began to get a sense of speed from the surface approaching, he fired the boosters.

"Take that you—"

"Impact!"

Jackson stared in awe as the Koshmar disappeared into a hellish blast of fire and ejected rock that plumed from the surface of Golden Major. He'd never seen anything like it. The moon had no atmosphere to speak of, so the dreadnaught had hit with full force. For a moment, he thought back to when he'd done something similar with his ship, the Blue Jacket, to stop a Phage Super Alpha.

He'd not hit the Alpha with even a hundredth of the speed the Koshmar had been carrying, and he'd just barely survived that through dumb luck. There was no way anything was left alive on that moon. But he'd already come all this way.

"Tactical, ten mag-cannon shots into the center of the impact zone. Penetrator shells, maximum velocity."

"Aye, sir. Hardened penetrators loaded, cannons locked on."

"Fire."

Ten solid ferrous shells blasted down through the debris cloud and into the crater left by the Koshmar. Fresh ejecta blasted up from the surface, and something else exploded below. Jackson frowned, wondering what the hell could have been down there that was still intact to blow up.

“Tactical, send a Shrike down there as well, and then we'll call it a day," Jackson said. "Let's be absolutely certain. You may fire when ready."

"Shrike targeted for ground hit…firing."

The nuclear missile hit and blasted all the debris even farther into space, clearing things out after the blast enough that the infrared imagers could peer down and see the damage.

"Admiral, if there was anything down there, it's gone now," Commander Hawkins reported from CIC. "The impact zones are so deep that whatever base had been there was dug up and launched into space."

"Thank you, Commander," Jackson said. "OPS, please, note in the ship's log the time of death for CIS Agent Vincent Russo."

"Yes, sir."

"Coms, system-wide broadcast, please."

"When you're ready, sir."

"This is the Nemesis speaking to whoever is left in charge of the military here in the Xinjia System. This battle is over. Power down your weapons, heave to, and announce your surrender. If you do so, my forces will withdraw with no other conditions. I will leave a single observer, and if I see anything foolish like a taskforce being marshaled or the civilians being targeted, I will come back and make sure that nothing flying an Alliance flag is left. I await your answer."

With the Unity leadership vaporized, it didn't take long for Admiral Sinacore to see reason. In fact, given the time lag, it was likely he had announced his surrender before Jackson had even begun speaking. Sinacore agreed to an unconditional surrender and had his forces rally at the fleet base in orbit over the fourth planet.

To make sure there were no misunderstandings, Jackson ordered Aegis to pull all their ships out and jump them to the outer system. He sent the Super Valkyrie's home under the command of Captain Risher and turned command of the Nemesis over to Commander Hori, ordering her to take them uphill and prepare the ship for the flight back to Earth.

Before he could go back to his quarters and sleep for the next twelve hours, he had a lot of people back home who needed to be brought up to speed. The first call had been to Admiral Pitt.

"So, it's over?"

"It is in the ESA, I believe," Jackson said. "Russo took out the Unity leadership and killed Kohl himself. Aegis wiped out nearly seventy-four percent of the Alliance's total combat capability so, even if they wanted to keep going, they can't."

"Good news and good work, Admiral," Pitt said. "That will allow me to kick off some things back here. There have been some…developments…you will need to be made aware of. You may or may not like them given you're from Earth, but in light of everything that's happened between the enclaves since the end of the Phage War, I think it's our best choice."

"Sounds either interesting or ominous," Jackson said. "Will I be required to fly a ship away from my family and kill anybody in this plan?"

"No."

"I already love it."

37

President Mulhouse grew antsy.

There had been some activity down the street near the building where Parliament currently convened, and he'd not been able to get a hold of Wren Ives. His security detail also had many new faces in it, and that made him nervous. The last thing he had heard from Ives had been three days ago, letting him know the battle for Xinjia had been going poorly.

Apparently, Wolfe had found a way to overcome their new super weapon, and Aegis was laying waste to their forces. She had said a decent-sized group had broken free and was en route to Earth to help him secure the Solar System, but none of those ships would appear in their skies for well over a month.

A commotion and shouting outside his office made him turn away from the window in time to see Admiral Pitt walk into his office with armed Marines and President Annika Falk in tow. He frowned at Earth's leader being there along with the head of CENTCOM and Marines carrying weapons.

"What's the meaning of this?"

"Hubert Mulhouse," Pitt said.

"That's President Mulhouse, Admiral—"

"You are under arrest for the charge of treason, conspiracy to commit treason, and sedition. Specifically, your role in the assassination of President Joseph Marcum and conspiring with foreign powers to overthrow the duly elected representative government of the United Terran Federation. You will be remanded into custody and, during that time awaiting trial, you will be stripped of all powers and privileges of this office. Please note that this is an informal declaration of intent. You will be given a formal listing of the charges against you, as well as a declaration of your rights. Is any of this unclear?"

"This is preposterous, Pitt. I'll have your stars for this. You think you can come in here and bluster me?"

"It's over, Burt," Pitt said. "Wren Ives already turned on you. Makov, Chan, and Pak are all dead, and Wolfe left the Alliance fleet a smoking ruin back in the Xinjia System. We've already collected all your co-conspirators in Parliament and within the bureaucracy—probably quite a few you weren't even aware of—and this is already a done deal. There's no talking your way out of this. Wolfe is coming back to this system with Aegis, so the handful of ships they managed to send out here will be flying into a buzz saw."

Mulhouse stared between Pitt and Falk for a moment, the enormity of what was happening to him sank in.

"What the hell is she doing here?"

"Wren Ives cut a deal. She divulged the plan to dispose the government of Earth in exchange for a more lenient sentence option," President Falk said. "As the leader of a sovereign nation, you were about to try and invade, I asked Admiral Pitt if I could come along to enjoy them dragging you out in restraints in front of the media crews that should be gathering shortly."

"But there will be no deal for you, Mulhouse," Pitt said, leaning in close. "Your role in killing Joseph Marcum will be answered for. I can assure you of that."

"You can't prove anything," Mulhouse said. "I demand that—"

"You can take him now," Pitt said over his shoulder to the Marine major waiting to slap wrist restraints on the president. "Turn him over to Earth's people first, and then our prosecutor will come in and deal with him."

"Yes, sir!" the Marine said, stepping forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Joseph Marcum was a war hero and legendary figure among the fighting men and women of the Federation. They had no loyalty to Mulhouse, and Pitt was actually a little worried the sniveling weasel would be met with some sort of accident before he made it to the prison.

"Easy as you said it would be, Admiral Pitt," Falk said.

"I thank you for letting me take the lead, Madam President," Pitt said. "The path is now cleared, and the rest will be up to you."

"You're certain this is something your people will want?"

"The last decade or so have shown we need to be led by example. I can think of no better way to begin healing the fractures between our worlds."

"These are unprecedented times. The actions of so few have destroyed the lives of so many. The enormity of what has taken place these last few months seems almost too much to take in. Even with the immediate threat over, we can't help but look to the skies for the next."

Jackson Wolfe sat in the upper observation lounge of the Nemesis with his wife, children, and friends as President Annika Falk addressed Earth. Her message would be going out through Bluebird and the com drone network to all corners of human space. He looked over at Michael Barrett sitting in a reclined position, sipping on a glass of water, and enjoying solid food for the first time in weeks. The specialists on Earth who had treated him were confident he would walk again with the help of an implant to help transmit the signals from his brain.

He watched Pitt and Hori, the two workaholics they were, huddle and discuss Fleet business since they already had seen the president's speech.

Celesta and Pike, who were due to be married aboard the Nemesis in two days, sat together and ignored the monitors completely. Jillian and the twins were at a smaller table sitting with the other children and Jair Perez, the ex-director entertaining the kids with his ability to draw caricatures of them on his tile. Jeza Ortiz, freshly retired, stood with Amiri Essa and watched the president, each with beers in both hands.

Willard Barton and Emil Schmidt were there in a social capacity rather than official, though they still stood stiffly as if they were working a security detail. Captain Risher and his wife were also there. Idris Accari had just made it, the Coyote arriving mere hours before the speech started. Most of the people in the room would be civilians soon, all of them deciding they'd had about enough of Fleet life. Jackson hoped they would all stay in touch, but he knew distance had a way of making people drift apart.

"In the aftermath of the Unity's attack on the foundations of both the United Terran Federation and the Eastern Star Alliance, it is difficult to know what to do. We could perhaps divide ourselves even further, separate into individual nation states made up of dozens of star systems. But that path takes us backwards and is guaranteed to lead to more wars of the strong preying on the weak.

"Perhaps there is another way. A better way. Included in this broadcast will be a proposal to the leaders of your individual worlds. An invitation to return to Earth and to build a new, unified nation. Let us build something we would be proud to hand to our children and to their children. This proposal would dissolve all the old lines, including those that have kept Earth isolated for so long, and give everyone a seat at the table so their voice can be heard.

"It is time to come together as a single people…a single, powerful nation. It is time to come home."

The following speeches were by officials from Earth, the Federation, and the Alliance, agreeing with President Falk that a new republic was needed, and that it should be built upon the birthplace of humanity. Jackson tuned them out and went back observing the people who had come up to his ship for the upcoming wedding but would likely stay for some time after. There was no pressing need for the Nemesis anywhere else, and they still had to figure out what to do with Aegis.

Jackson's original plan, no matter how the Battle of Xinjia had gone, was to destroy Aegis with the failsafe he had activated when he feared the machine would be seized by people working for Makov and Chan. In the end, however, he saw the system in a different light. It was unfair that it drew comparisons to the Phage since, without humans, it wouldn't be able to operate longer than the fuel its ships carried lasted.

People would still be required to re-arm, refuel, and replenish losses, which ensured if the damn thing did go rogue, it wouldn’t be for very long. There was still the very real threat of Aegis being misused by the people elected to be in charge of the new republic, but that threat existed already with the current militaries.

Jillian caught his eye and winked, nodding at Daya Wolfe as he argued with Perez that his ears weren't as big as the ones in the drawing. Jackson smiled back and stood, looking over the room.

"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" he asked. Once they were all looking at him, he went on. "In two days, we'll be celebrating the unlikely union of one of the finest officers I've ever served with…and a smart mouthed sewer rat she's decided to saddle herself with.

"After that, we'll go our separate ways. Most of us have decided to hang up our spurs, having been at war almost continuously since the Phage first arrived. Some of you will continue to serve, and I salute you. Captain Risher, Captain Barrett, and Captain Accari, I will sleep better knowing you have the watch.

"It has been an honor serving with all of you. I'm only sorry that some of us couldn't be here to see what is happening. Joseph Marcum would have pissed and moaned about wasting all that time defending a Federation we were going to scrap anyway, but he would be proud of all of you and what you've done to make this happen.

"A toast to Marcum, Russo, and all of those who never got to see what their sacrifices would help build." Jackson raised his glass as did all the others. "Salute."

"So, this is really it?" Jillian asked, appearing at his side once everyone went back to their conversations. "We're done with Fleet life?"

"It's past time," Jackson said, nodding to where Barrett and Accari talked. "It's not like it was before. I'm no longer scared to not be here, knowing they'll still be standing on the bridge of a warship, keeping watch."

"I don't disagree. I just want to make sure this is the right decision for you."

Jackson looked over to where his children ran around with those of his other guests and smiled.

"It most definitely is."

Thank you for reading Empire,

Book Three of the Unification War Trilogy.

This book concludes the Black Fleet Saga.

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AFTERWORD

This was bittersweet to write. On one hand, writing Jackson Wolfe for the very last time sends a pang through my heart. I've learned a lot from this character and not only about the craft of writing. As I built him in my mind, he became the embodiment of what I felt a good leader and military officer should be. His flaws, determination, stoicism, and unerring moral compass made him someone I looked up to. That might sound very strange to some considering that this is a man that exists only in my own head, but that's the best way I can describe it nonetheless.

On the other hand, completing the series was an important landmark for me and my career.

So why stop?

I've been asked this by colleagues, members of my own team, and readers when they find out that book nine will absolutely be the last. The reason is, to put it simply, the story is over. The saga was divided into three trilogies to divide the overall story into three unique scenarios with the overarching theme of exploring the justifications of armed conflict.

-The first trilogy was about being attacked and defending yourself. It's the most pure application of force; defending one's own right to exist. In the first trilogy the Phage showed up only to make humanity not exist and humanity not hesitating to use every weapon they could get their hands on to fight that. Very few people could argue against the march to war in this scenario.

-In the Expansion War this gets a bit murky. We have the Ushin who are, according to them, being pressed and exterminated by the Darshik. If humanity is willing to go to war with the Darshik, the Ushin will make it worth their effort. Now we have the laudable reason of fighting for someone who can't fight for themselves… but you're also getting a big pile of treasure afterwards. So what are you really fighting for? Would you still risk your ships and people if you weren't getting anything tangible in return?

-In the Unification War things get even dirtier. Now the fighting is about political power and one group trying to impose its will on another through force. Ship crews and civilians are slaughtered in droves during this war so that the Unity cabal can "bring humanity together." Even during such a naked and open power grab, it was important for Makov and his cronies to have some ideology to cling to so that they could pretend what they were doing was justified. As outside observers you and I can easily spot who the good guys and bad guys are, but would it be so clear if you were in this story? If you were a crewmember on an Alliance frigate or a Federation cruiser, is it possible you might think you're the good guy in both scenarios?

I tried to write the story in a way that my own personal biases didn't burn through into the narrative. It's one advantage of science fiction in that I don't have to justify my plot through the lens of contemporary politics and that gives me the freedom to really lean in on some things, or flat out ignore others. I also wanted to make sure that, at its heart, the saga was as solid a military science fiction story as it could be. Although not as whimsical and frivolous as my Omega Force series, I still didn't want Black Fleet to get bogged down in heavy-handed proselytizing (or even the appearance of it.)

I hope everyone that has been reading this series since it began with "Warship" has enjoyed the ride. I know I sure as hell did.

Josh