Marphissa sat in her stateroom aboard the battle cruiser Pele, watching her display where the outside view showed grayness and the occasional flare of a light that could be a million light years away or within touching distance. No one knew. All she knew for certain was that the view of jump space brought with it no sense of peace or harmony.
Her living area aboard Pele was a ridiculously large and well-appointed stateroom intended for someone of CEO rank. Marphissa, rapidly promoted from a midgrade executive rank, thought it far too pretentious. She thought she had grown accustomed to her rank as Kommodor, but that had been mostly within the confines of the heavy cruiser Manticore. Nothing aboard Manticore had this much luxury to it. She felt out of place.
Maybe her discomfort wasn’t rooted in the fact that jump space made humans increasingly uncomfortable and uneasy as days went by. Maybe it was because she still did not feel qualified for her responsibilities. The fate of Midway Star System rested in her hands. It was not a comfortable feeling, no matter what kind of stateroom she might be occupying or what kind of space existed outside the hull of this battle cruiser.
“Kommodor.” The image of Kapitan Kontos appeared next to her display. “I wish to inform you that we will leave jump space in one hour. My ship will be at full combat readiness when we arrive at Iwa, per your instructions.”
Marphissa tried to rouse herself from her reverie. “Thank you, Kapitan. I will be on the bridge in one half hour.”
“Yes, Kommodor. I am sorry to have disturbed your planning for our actions upon arrival.”
She couldn’t help smiling at that. “All you disturbed, Kapitan, was my attempt to understand something.”
“Something related to this battle cruiser?” Kontos asked.
“No. Something related to us. To humans.” Marphissa took another glance at the outside display as another mysterious light bloomed. “Why is it, Kapitan, that no matter how long the journeys we humans take, no matter how strange the places we go, we always manage to take all of our baggage along with us?”
Kontos looked baffled, then his expression cleared. “You mean emotional baggage. Even the Syndicate never figured out a system inefficient enough to allow us to lose that in transit!”
“Well, I fully intend losing some of mine at Iwa,” Marphissa said. “I’m going to unload it on whatever is waiting for us there.”
* * *
A half hour later she was on the bridge, waiting through the final minutes before arriving at Iwa.
Marphissa had expected to find at Iwa Star System either a flotilla of Granaile Imallye’s warships laying claim to the star, or a force of enigma warships ready to defend their own possession of the star.
But as she shook off the mind-blurring effects of leaving jump space, Marphissa saw something else on her display, which was rapidly updating as the sensors on Pele and the other Midway warships tried to spot every change at Iwa since Manticore had left.
“Syndicate,” Kontos commented in wondering tones. “They didn’t care enough about Iwa to defend it when they controlled it, but now that they’ve lost it, they want it back.”
“Apparently they do,” Marphissa agreed. “And that is just like the Syndicate. The bureaucracy screws up and then they send citizens like you and me out to fix things.”
The Syndicate flotilla, which was about three light hours from the newly arrived Midway flotilla and barely twenty light minutes from the formerly inhabited world that was now the site of the hidden enigma base, contained an impressive mix of warships for the overextended Syndicate. Two battle cruisers, five heavy cruisers, a light cruiser, and nearly twenty Hunter-Killers, plus three troop carriers and four freighters.
“Kapitan Kontos, the Syndicate flotilla came in from Palau Star System,” the senior watch specialist on Pele’s bridge announced. “Their vectors track right back to that jump point.”
“Why so much for Iwa?” Marphissa wondered. Before Kontos could reply, a call came from Iceni. “We have company, Madam President.”
“Yes,” Iceni said, looking unruffled by the unexpected development. “I doubt this was originally intended for Iwa. The Syndicate was probably marshaling forces at Palau to strike at either Midway or at stars controlled by Imallye’s forces. They might have even come here along a planned attack route to hit either Midway or Moorea, but are now moving to reestablish a Syndicate base on that planet.”
“How would they know about the underground enigma base there?” Marphissa asked. “Our sensors have been studying the planet and we can’t detect anything now even though we know where it is.”
“I seriously doubt that the Syndicate forces know about the alien facility,” Iceni said.
“Kommodor?” Kontos interrupted. “The Syndicate flotilla is maneuvering. It can’t be in response to us. They won’t see us for another two and a half hours.”
Both Marphissa and Iceni fell silent as everyone waited to see what the Syndicate forces had done. “They’re coming around hard,” Marphissa finally murmured.
“Maximum push on their thrusters,” Kontos agreed. “They must have seen something that we haven’t yet.”
“The Syndicate flotilla is accelerating at the maximum rate the freighters with it can manage,” the senior watch specialist advised.
“Heading back toward the jump point for Palau,” Kontos said. “Something scared them. Imallye?”
“I hope not,” Iceni said. “If Imallye has brought a big enough force to Iwa to scare a flotilla of that size, we’re going to have some trouble dealing with it ourselves.”
The image of Kapitan Mercia appeared beside that of President Iceni. “If the Syndicate flotilla had seen some force of Imallye’s arriving from Moorea, then we should have seen it by now as well. Whatever they saw is way on the far side of the star system from us.”
Kontos sucked in a sudden breath. “The enigmas. The jump point we saw that ship of theirs using is over there.”
Marphissa quickly ran some data through her display, using one hand to draw vectors through the images of planets and ships. “If the enigmas have come in at the same place you saw that one ship . . .” She shook her head. “The Syndicate battle cruisers can outrun them and jump back to Palau. The others won’t make it.”
“Are we close enough to intervene?” Iceni asked. She paused for a moment to let her words sink in before adding more. “They may be Syndicate, but they’re people like us, or like we used to be.”
Kontos nodded, smiling. “If we can hit the enigmas while they are engaging the Syndicate flotilla, we might be able to inflict enough damage to ensure victory.”
“See if we can do it,” Marphissa said.
“Kommodor?” The senior watch specialist gestured toward her display. “The Syndicate flotilla changed vector again.”
Everyone focused on their displays, waiting to see what the Syndicate flotilla had done hours before. “They’re coming back around,” Mercia said, puzzled.
“Back onto their original vectors,” Kontos confirmed. “They are heading for the planet again.”
Marphissa felt a heaviness inside. “The CEO commanding that flotilla did the math. They know the troop transports can’t get away, so they’re going to land the ground forces on the planet to give them a chance.”
“And the battle cruisers will stay with their comrades and fight the enigmas together.” Kontos was smiling again, his enthusiasm and admiration for the Syndicate flotilla’s actions obvious. “Kommodor, we must help them.”
“They are still the enemy,” Marphissa reminded him. “As much as a quarter of the men and women aboard those units may be snakes. Remember what Syndicate mobile forces did to Kane.”
“I have not forgotten,” Kontos said, the smile and admiration disappearing from his face. “But, still, in this they are doing the right thing.”
“They are,” Marphissa conceded. “I would li
ke to know why the snakes are permitting it. Work up a vector toward that planet. We don’t know yet where the Syndicate ships will go once they have dropped off the ground forces, so we will head for that world so we can also drop off our ground forces before proceeding into battle with the enigmas.” She would have to call Colonel Rogero and tell him that, and did not for a moment imagine that he would be thrilled by the news.
“Here is your vector, Kommodor,” Kontos said a few seconds later. “Assuming you wish to limit our velocity to point two light speed?”
She felt an urge to check with Iceni, but decided this was as good a time as any to see if the president had meant it when she granted Marphissa full control over the mobile forces. “Yes. I don’t want to go any faster until I know more about what the enigmas are doing. We should see them within a couple more hours and at least be able to tell if they were also heading straight for that planet as of several hours ago.”
Marphissa forced herself to study Kontos’s proposed vector, taking her time to look it over. The urge to act quickly, to maneuver now, was a human one, but very mistaken in space. Just because you could see the enemy did not mean that the enemy was a threat. In fact, the enemy might be days away from being able to engage your forces. But still the instincts passed down to Marphissa from primitive humans hunting on the plains and forests and tundra of Old Earth insisted that she must act immediately against an enemy that could be seen.
“Good,” she finally said. “All units in Midway Offensive Flotilla, immediate execute, come starboard five seven degrees, down zero six degrees, accelerate to point two light speed.”
Pele swung around under the push of her thrusters, nimble and fast, then waited as the other warships matched the movement. The HuKs and the light cruisers moved almost as quickly as the battle cruiser, the heavy cruisers were noticeably slower, the troop transports were about as agile as the heavy cruisers, and the battleship Midway’s thrusters brought the vast mass of that warship around with ponderous deliberation.
With everyone lined up in the right direction and main propulsion lit off on every warship, Pele and the other warships keeping their acceleration slow enough to match that of Midway, the flotilla dove into Iwa Star System, heading for the orbit of the planet where humans and enigmas would soon clash again to determine the fate of everyone in this region of space.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“MADAM President, what can I say to the Syndicate forces?” Marphissa asked.
Iceni was sitting back, her lower face covered by one hand as she thought. Finally she answered, her eyes meeting Marphissa’s. “I should say this to them. I will send a broadcast to the Syndicate flotilla that we may be enemies to each other, but we can work together to defeat the enigmas. I will say that we are willing to suspend hostilities against Syndicate forces until the aliens are defeated.”
She paused, waiting for Marphissa’s reaction.
“That is . . . pragmatic,” Marphissa said. “They might accept it. I do not think they would believe any offer that did not obviously benefit both our force and their flotilla. What about the enigma base? Will you tell them of that?”
Iceni brooded over that question for several seconds more, then nodded. “Yes. Those Syndicate ground forces may be massacred before we can get there to help them, but I will not let that happen without at least trying to warn them. I’ll transmit from Midway, Kommodor. If I receive any reply from the Syndicate forces, I will ensure you are aware of it.”
It took another two hours, as they watched the hours-old movements of the Syndicate flotilla toward an unseen enemy, before the light showing the enigma ships finally reached the Midway flotilla.
“There they are,” Kontos said as a new set of symbols appeared on the displays accompanied by an urgent alert sound.
“Forty-four of them,” Marphissa said. The largest of the enigma warships was larger than human heavy cruisers but significantly smaller than human battle cruisers or battleships. But there were a lot more enigma warships than there were human warships. “Seeing those numbers, I’m even more surprised that the snakes in that Syndicate flotilla haven’t ordered the battle cruisers to run and leave the rest to their fates.”
“It will be very hard for them to win,” Kontos conceded.
“Kapitan,” Marphissa said patiently, “it is impossible for the Syndicate flotilla to win. They are choosing to die here. I do not understand that. You know how the snakes think. There is nothing here that they would consider worth the sacrifice of those two battle cruisers in addition to the other warships in that flotilla.”
“They would abandon the ground forces to their fates,” Kontos agreed. “Perhaps the snakes have firm orders to stop the enigmas from taking this star system, and would face death from the Syndicate even if they escaped from Iwa.”
“That is possible,” Marphissa agreed. She was looking at her display, where the vectors from the two human flotillas and those of the alien armada were now visible and made obvious an unpleasant future. “We can’t get to them in time to help. Not if they hold to what they’re doing.”
“They won’t even know we’re here for another hour,” Kontos said. “And they won’t receive the president’s message until then, either. They don’t yet know any alternative exists.”
Marphissa pressed her back against her seat, glaring at her display. Another hour before the Syndicate warships finally saw that the Midway flotilla had arrived, then almost another three hours before she saw what they did with that information. And about another twelve hours of travel at point two light speed after that before this flotilla neared the planet where the Syndicate ground forces were probably landing at this moment. “The enigmas were coming straight for that planet’s orbit as well, and as we guessed the Syndicate flotilla was heading to meet them.” The long, long curved tracks of the two forces met a light hour from the planet. “The enigmas and the Syndicate flotilla will engage each other while we’re still too far away to do anything but watch what happened hours earlier.”
“If the Syndicate flotilla turns back to meet us—” Kontos began.
She shook her head firmly. “They’re obviously trying to protect those troop transports and freighters. Unless they know the enigmas are going to chase them, turning away and running toward us would just leave those transports and freighters completely open to attack. Unless something else happens, I don’t see any chance of the Syndicate flotilla changing its vector.”
As if triggered by her words, a new alert sounded and new symbols appeared on her display.
Marphissa stared as the display reported that yet another flotilla had appeared in this star system, this time at the jump point from Moorea. Two more battle cruisers, three heavy cruisers, a light cruiser, and eight Hunter-Killers.
Granaile Imallye’s flotilla had arrived.
Before getting to Iwa, Marphissa had anticipated fighting a couple of two-way battles, her forces against Imallye and her forces against the enigmas. But now there were four flotillas at Iwa, and each one of those flotillas regarded the other three as hostile. “Imallye’s forces, the Syndicate forces, and the enigmas, will all attack us at the first opportunity. The only good part of that is they will also attack each other at the first chance that offers itself.”
“A four-way fight?” Kontos asked in disbelief.
The image of Kapitan Mercia appeared before Marphissa. “Well, Kommodor, we have three different enemies to choose from. Which do we attack first?”
Put that way, the answer wasn’t too difficult. “The enigmas. We’ll continue on our approach to intercept their armada.”
Mercia nodded. “I am obligated to point out that it is possible Imallye’s forces will ignore us, the Syndicate, and the enigmas, and proceed straight to the jump point for Midway while the rest of us kill each other.”
That was an ugly possibility. Marphissa remembered the implacable woman she had excha
nged messages with at Moorea. “That could happen. We must give Imallye a reason to come after us.” She knew that Iceni would be listening in to this conversation, and would know what that reason would have to be, but Marphissa did not feel comfortable telling her president that it was time to broadcast her presence as bait.
President Iceni’s image appeared as well, looking both resigned to her fate and determined. “I will transmit a message to Imallye. A long message, so she can confirm that it is coming from Midway.”
“Thank you, Madam President,” Marphissa said. “May I suggest that you also include some recent details of events here so that Imallye will not think the message is just a recording.”
“I’ll do that.” Iceni glanced to one side, studying the situation on her own display. “What are your intentions, Kommodor?”
Marphissa took a deep breath, then spoke clearly. “I intend continuing onward to engage the enigma armada, splitting off our troop transports to land our ground forces as we pass closest to the planet. If any Syndicate warships still survive when we reach them, I will not target the Syndicate units but allow them to continue engaging the enigmas as well. Once the enigmas are destroyed, I will evaluate the state of any surviving Syndicate warships before turning to engage Imallye’s flotilla. After destroying Imallye’s forces, I will bring our flotilla back to the planet to support our ground forces in their assault on the enigma base.”
“That’s as good a plan as any at this point,” Iceni said. “How does Colonel Rogero feel about it?”
“Colonel Rogero is . . . not happy,” Marphissa said, choosing her words carefully.
“I’m not surprised. But as bad as things may be on the surface of that planet, they will certainly be a lot better than if his soldiers stayed on those transports with that many enigma warships on the loose.” Iceni paused to rub her forehead, revealing for a moment beneath that not-quite-concealing-enough gesture the concerns she was otherwise hiding very well. “I approve of your plan of action, Kommodor. Proceed. Remember that the enigmas often try to surprise their opponents, so take nothing for granted.”