Warlord of the Spinward Reaches, page 12
Uly nodded. The others caught up with him by the way their mouths fell open.
“For how long?” Haydar asked.
The Mazhin were probably the experts on long-term starship travel, since they tended to live their entire lives on ships, given the choice.
“Story’s a couple thousand years old,” Sterling noted, looking around. “And the evidence suggests a chain of oral transmission prior to that. Suka Kuri, when did the Yarikh finally end?”
“Nobody knows, Sterling,” she said. “I’ve heard legends and rumors that would suggest some three to six thousand years ago, give or take several centuries and probably towards the longer end. Plus, we don’t know if the Yarikh left it.”
“We’ll assume that until proven otherwise,” Uly announced. “Timelines matter less than that the ship seems stable. Is it broadcasting any signals?”
“None we’ve been able to detect, Uly,” Haydar said. “I will also admit that I wasn’t looking that hard, either, since I presumed it had to be a derelict, after all this time. I’ll review those logs and devise some new filters to see if anything stands out against the background radiation.”
Uly nodded. He turned to Anari and smiled.
Her smile was at once triumphant and nervous.
“What else did Zamir tell us?” he asked her.
“That it was a treasure of the gods, Uly,” she nodded back. “Some of the things I’ve gone back and retranslated after knowing this place existed suggest that he was working from some older log books or something, that got him here. At the time, their ships were capable of long voyages, but weren’t all that powerful. Maybe halfway between Aibek Sulaymanov’s Moonlight and a comparable Seeker/Probe built today.”
Uly considered his options.
Nobody really understood the Yarikh, except through the lens of the Karaŋgılıkka, itself written much later by a people striving to live up to those legends themselves, long after the place itself had faded.
“We have time,” he announced. “You folks sit down and figure out if we can somehow get down there and then get back out again later. The folks who put it there had a reason, because they could have just as easily crashed it into the black hole, so presume that they wanted it found. Especially if they left notes that got Zamir Aytiev and us here to see it. Do the math and then figure it out. And we can leave and come back later with better tools if we have to. Am I clear?”
He looked around at hopeful faces, all of them balanced against the possibility that they might have to sail away, just as Zamir had, cursing their luck and their failures.
“Sterling, you and Drew come off duty and handle this until you’re satisfied,” Uly ordered. “I’ll happily pull doubles as a working officer instead of a glorified paper-pusher. Rope in whoever you need, remembering that you have Ononguli, Khet, Emro, Thogin, and others who might all have snippets. We’ve come this far. Can we do it?”
He rose, and the others automatically did as well. Uly smiled as they started breaking into groups to talk.
He’d let them sort it out.
Then see if the gods really did love them.
THIRTY-ONE
Anari had ended up spending a lot of time with Sterling, helping him understand what Zamir Aytiev had written, because she was sure those were his words composing the Karaŋgılıkka.
And she’d come to appreciate just how smart the kid was. Kid. She wasn’t much older, but he’d really been a kid, and was only now growing into what he’d be as an adult.
That was even scarier, considering where he was.
“No other clues?” he asked her.
They were in an office he’d taken over, filled with all his notes, all her notes, and everything anybody else had been able to think of that might be useful.
All she needed was a ball of yarn to connect various things stuck to walls to look like one of those silly conspiracy vids.
“I’ve gone back and retranslated this tale from scratch,” she told him. “And the next one, just in case, but he was off rescuing a princess from some warlord in that one. He occasionally laments that he didn’t have the weapon of the gods by his side, but that’s it.”
She watched him nod. They’d spent enough time together that she could see his exhaustion. It was a young face to have that many lines. Or eyes that bloodshot.
“I still feel like I’m missing something,” Sterling muttered.
“Angry dragon in their lair, waiting for fools to awaken it?” she joked.
“YES!” he cried. “That’s it.”
“What is?”
“Drew thinks that the ship is somehow operational,” Sterling replied. “That it must be doing something to remain stable in its orbit of the black moon. That suggests that there is someone aboard. Or something.”
“People don’t live that long,” Anari reminded him.
“No, but systems do,” he nodded. “There must be a system running. Tracking things. Making adjustments as gravity and nebular density cause the ship’s location to fluctuate. And we won’t know until we board it, because nobody knows what language it might respond in.”
“I presume Dan is planning on taking the team to board it, if you and Drew can get us close,” she reminded him. “Would a shuttle work better?”
“No,” he said definitively. “The gravity around here is a little hairy, and it couldn’t generate the thrust to escape from that deep.”
“Can Corsac?” she asked.
“Maybe?” he looked up at her. “Hang on.”
Anari watched him dial a number. Heard Drew reply with a couple of choice profanities.
“Roscoe. I was asleep.”
“It’s Sterling. I need your help calculating how close we can get the Fox, in order to direct dock with a soft seal on an airlock. I think Anari has solved the rest for me.”
She felt a blush take hold. Mostly, he’d asked questions and she’d reviewed Aytiev’s descriptions while trying to put them into useful terms for her favorite stellar cartographer.
She caught his smile, and then Sterling blushed as well, so she didn’t feel so bad.
“You in your office?” Drew asked.
“We are.”
“Lemme grab some coffee and I’ll be there in five.”
He cut the line and Anari watched Sterling sag in relief.
“You don’t have to do it all today, you know,” she told him.
“I want you to be able to walk those decks, Anari,” he replied with an utter sincerity that took her breath away. “You found this thing. You got us here.”
“You got us here,” she countered.
“I just took your directions and plotted them on a map,” he said.
“Which nobody else could have done,” she replied.
He started to say something, then caught himself, smiling crookedly at her.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he admitted. “We make a pretty good team.”
Anari blinked. Considered it.
They did, as weird as that sounded even in her head. Sabre School Emro. Sabre School Human, except that Suka Kuri had mentioned quietly that she was in the process of creating a Starfare School. Uly would be the first Adept, and Sterling a Seeker.
Like her.
“We do,” Anari admitted.
They watched each other awkwardly for a long moment, then the hatch opened and the whirlwind that was Drew Roscoe swirled in.
“What have you got for me?” he asked.
THIRTY-TWO
Uly was surprised at how messy the office was. Normally, Sterling kept everything sharp and military at all times, but there were papers piled on every surface. Notes stuck to maps and images printed on walls, and an overall sense of chaos.
Until you looked closer and noted that everything was in piles that seemed related. Specific.
Sterling had asked him to join them for a breakthrough. Uly had found Dan and brought her along, because she was the other half of his brain.
“From there, Drew thinks that we can sail right down to the ship and link airlocks,” Sterling finished explaining. “Commander Chastain and her team will board and confirm that the environment is not hostile, then we can see if it’s possible to get the other ship clear.”
“And you expect hostility?” Uly asked.
“Something’s got to be operating, Uly,” Drew spoke up. “Otherwise, that thing can’t stay here that long. Nine times in ten, it’s already fallen into the event horizon.”
Uly nodded. He’d studied enough orbital mechanics to understand the math. And the probabilities.
“Will it open fire on us as we close?” he asked the group.
Sterling. Drew. Anari. Dan.
“I have no idea, sir,” Sterling replied. “We can be prepared, but I’m not entirely sure how accurate a wavebolt will be in this environment. Never tried it.”
“If nothing else, we’ll try firing one in a safe direction after we’re done, just to record the results scientifically,” Uly nodded. “But we can do it?”
“The math works,” Anari said. “I’ve watched them go over it several times. Zamir Aytiev was sitting someplace close to this, doing that same math, and decided that he didn’t have the engines capable of escaping again later. And then he never came back with a better ship. Nor did anyone else.”
“What’s the margin of error?” Uly asked Drew and Sterling.
“Generators are in good shape,” Drew replied. “We’ll have everything back to the navigation displacer thrusters ready to go to the redline, but the math says we’ve got about a twenty percent safety factor over that when we get close. I’m confident.”
Uly accepted that. Drew Roscoe was still a small, slender man. Even more so than Uly. But he had a top-notch brain. And didn’t let his ego get too big for his hands to fly.
He turned to Dan.
“Boarding a potentially hostile alien ship?” he asked.
“Hogan’s Alley,” she replied, summing up the semi-automated training simulator she and her team used to practice with weapons in a hostile environment.
Like this might be.
And his job was to send her over, then try not to worry too much that she might not make it back.
All part of the legend of the Corsac Fox.
But he’d come this far. And the people he trusted thought that it could be done.
Thus, the next step.
“Everyone, fantastic job and well done,” he nodded to them. “Sterling, you look like you need to sleep for a day. We’ll aim for thirty-six hours from now, mid-morning, to make our approach.”
The smiles warmed him. It would be exceedingly dangerous.
But they could do it.
THIRTY-THREE
Sterling was on Guns. Drew might be flying with his notes, but the ship over there might suddenly wake up angry, and it would be on Sterling and his teams to protect everyone.
Just like that first time, when they’d stolen Wren from the Auga, then stumbled into an Auga patrol ship.
“All teams, check in on status,” he said into the private comm he shared with the various turrets.
Green lights all blinked once, but that was him making sure.
They’d only get one chance at this, and any mistakes might mean that they were trapped in here forever, though Drew had drawn up a couple of contingency plans that got progressively crazier as the risks increased.
For now, Drew had every scanner pointed inward and pinging. Nothing had responded to all the noise prior, but that had been at range.
Now, they would be sailing right up to the beast.
And it was huge. Storm Crow was about a match for size. Corsac Fox would look like a calf nestled up next to a momma cow when they docked.
“You ready?” Drew asked from beside him.
Sterling nodded.
“All hands, stand by to close,” Drew announced, then they both looked back over their inner shoulder.
Uly was in command today. As he should be. This might have been a joint effort, with most of the work coming about because of Anari. All he’d done was translate her words into places on a map for Drew.
One hell of a team.
“Mr. Roscoe, as you bear,” Uly said quietly.
All of this was quiet. Careful. Subtle.
Drew pressed a button and Corsac Fox started down the slide of the gravity well towards the Black Sword. That was what he and Anari had taken to calling it, because Aytiev had considered it to be the greatest weapon he’d never been able to reach.
And under a black moon.
Slowly, they closed, Drew marking off the distances.
“Mr. Roscoe, bring us about,” Uly ordered.
Sterling kept the turrets counter-rotating to remain locked on the Black Sword as Corsac Fox turned on a flat plane, the bow now pointed straight up, relative to the black hole below them.
“What’s the status of your engines?” Uly asked.
Drew did something and nodded.
“Maintaining our calculated threshold, even as we close, sir,” Drew replied.
Meaning, they could light the afterburners and still make it up and out to safety if they had to.
Not be trapped down here forever.
Had that crew ever escaped? Or had they faced eternity at the bottom of this particular well?
Sterling wasn’t sure how long he’d last before something cracked, if he’d been down there with no way to ever escape. Might step out an airlock and throw himself at the event horizon, just because it would be over quickly as you started getting close.
What had they done? Were they still there?
How derelict was that ship?
They’d find out soon.
“Backing on thrusters,” Drew announced. “Fifteen minutes to docking maneuvers.”
Nothing had responded. Reacted. Twitched.
No turrets were visible. Nothing had suddenly opened up a scanner or firing port.
Just a Black Sword, sitting here for all eternity.
Or at least until Anari came along.
He glanced over and shared a quick smile with her. Lots of brains inside all that green muscle. And really cute. Nice, too.
Sterling went back to his gunnery boards with a smile and focused on the job at hand.
Uly was counting on him. They all were.
THIRTY-FOUR
Uly watched Corsac Fox move close. Monstrous ship. Hopefully, it could still move. Could be removed from this situation to someplace safe.
It had been important enough to draw no less than Zamir Aytiev to the edge of the cliff, where he’d railed at his failure.
Uly wanted to succeed. didn’t every kid joining the navy want to go down in history as a hero?
Somewhere, Batyr no doubt had him listed as Missing, Presumed Lost. Four years was a long time to not check in.
He supposed that he was technically a deserter at this point as well, since there had been any number of opportunities for him to simply go home. Get home.
Be home.
But he was home. And had all these various people counting on him. Every one of them would want to go with him, and only five would be vaguely welcome, were he to sail into a Batyr port and identify himself. The others would be Danumash sailors to be locked up and traded home. Or ex-slaves. Or unknown alien species.
No.
If Uly had to remain out here for the rest of his life, that might be for the best for everyone.
Today’s heroics merely involved topping anything Zamir Aytiev had done in the one place that fellow had ever failed.
“All hands, maneuvering to dock,” Drew announced, finally close enough to show details with the naked eye that had only been blurry before.
The hull was a rainbow vortex of metallic hues rather than standard charcoal gray, like a cake that had been dyed, then swirled. Vahid had made something similar for Uly’s most recent birthday, showing off. He would appreciate this image.
And the scale. Huge. Corsac Fox was a large, fast, heavy Interceptor. This ship was larger than a Striker, what Batyr would have called a Forward Cruiser like Marshall Castillon or Vanguard Lesauvage that he had once served on. A bit smaller than Devastators or Battleships, but still massively impressive.
Dan had gone aft. The Team had gone with her, including Suka Kuri because they had no idea what languages anything might be written in and the Exemplar was far and away the best linguist on the ship.
Uly grinned that the men had been left behind, including him and Solomon Wyndham, who was Chief of Security these days, in spite of being all of eighteen years old.
He’d finally grown into his size. Big. Strong. Tough. Intelligent. Competent.
Another Danumash Midshipman that Uly had originally intended to turn into an officer that their next commander would thank him for.
In the Karaŋgılıkka, all the men went off and had their adventures, leaving the women behind to run the households.
And the civilization. Fitting that things were a little reversed today.
“Distance stabilized,” Drew called, bringing Uly back to the present. “Airlock corridor extending. Contact. Locking in with magnets, but the connection is a bit squirrelly. Stand by for soft seal. Combat Team, you are cleared to approach the other vessel.”
Uly held his breath and concentrated on good thoughts.
Dan and her ladies were about to walk into danger.
And history.
THIRTY-FIVE
Dan had put Ciah on point in her boarding armor, like usual. Shortest, in case the rest needed to shoot around and over her. The corridor was wide enough to provide both overhead and sides for people shooting, and the group had trained extensively on how to do it. Ciah would kneel. Dan would step up and slide to her right to fire. Katya to the left. Nasrin with her Omnibow. Two Emro with the ability to fire high.
Adding Suka Kuri just meant that the elder was at the rear today if trouble broke out.
