THE ARKSHIP SAGA
Arkship Countdown – The Arkship Saga Prologue
Arkship Obsidian
Arkship Vengeance
Arkship Alliance
Arkship Conquest
Also by Niel Bushnell
Altitude
THE TIMESMITH CHRONICLES
Sorrowline
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Arkship Countdown – the Arkship Saga Prologue
ARKSHIP ALLIANCE
By
Niel Bushnell
The Arkship Saga Book Three
First published in 2018 by
Magic Number Books
www.magicnumberbooks.co.uk
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.
The right of Niel Bushnell to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
Copyright © Niel Bushnell, 2018
For Megan, with all my love
Contents
FRAGMENTS
GHOSTS OF HELLAS
BALANCE
THE MISTRESS
THE NEW WAR
BELIEF
THE VISITOR
TRANSITION
PURPOSE
NEW BLOOD
CONSCIOUSNESS AND PREJUDICE
THE PATIENT
STRANGERS
END POINT
DIALOGUE
THE FIELD
REGRETS
TIME
THE APOLOGY
ALONE
PERSPECTIVE
XK-2526
ACCEPTANCE
DRIFTING
THE FOOL
THE SECRET
INTERVENTION
RETURN
THE UNSEEN
CONVICTION
CONVERGENCE
TRADE
ENCOUNTER
THE DOOR
THE WAVE
THE PURGE
SUMMIT
REUNION
CIRCLE
GALLUS
REFLECTIONS
QUICK FIX
DARK
THE MESSAGE
GHOSTS AND ECHOES
ANOTHER DAY
GRAVITY
THE DEAL
LUCY
WAITING
CONTROL
POWER
THIN LINE
IN THE STORM
CONNECTIONS
INSTRUCTIONS
COLD SOLUTION
ADRIFT
CONSEQUENCES
MERCY
RETREAT
TRANSIT
SYMMETRY
THE PROMISE
ARRIVAL
TIME
CONSENT
TARGETS
CHOICES
BALANCE
SERVICE
THE TURN
ACCEPTABLE LOSSES
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS
REALIZATION
WITHDRAWAL
NAMING
HOME
CHAOS
AUTHOR’S NOTES
FRAGMENTS
The debris field was vast, extending out in every direction to form a glittering cloud of scorched junk.
Captain Lewis White watched from the bridge of the Hope of Montrose, squinting to find details in the distant fragments beyond the slender windows. He was tired, and his legs ached from his shift on the bridge. He was used to the long hours, standing over his crew, watching, giving orders, playing the part of the stoic leader of his arkship, but he was an old man now, and old men dreamed of chairs. White sighed regretfully and turned away from the view to walk the narrow gantry of the bridge.
‘You’re certain?’ he asked, stopping at the station of his science officer.
The young woman spoke quickly, not looking up from her console. ‘Alloys and composition match, Captain. That is the ore station Nostow One, or what remains of it.’
‘Time of destruction?’
‘The debris field is still expanding. The rate of deceleration suggests it broke apart in the last two days.’
White ran his hand through his cropped hair, the growing tremble of fear dispelling his fatigue. ‘Broke apart?’
The science officer – her name was Lamb – isolated a series of images on her screen and enlarged them. ‘Scorching and damage suggest an external source. Those marks would indicate missile impacts.’
‘An attack,’ White said heavily.
Lamb nodded, turning to look up at him. ‘The ore station was destroyed by hostile fire.’
‘Crew compleCrew compliment of the stationment of the station?’
The officer touched her console and opened a new page of information. ‘Forty-eight.’
‘No distress calls? No sign of trouble?’
‘Nothing.’
The knot of fear festered in White’s stomach. He walked to the navigation officer’s seat. ‘Any ships in the region?’
‘Nothing on long-range scanner,’ the officer responded. ‘We’re alone here.’
White returned to the windows, gazing at the drifting wreckage of the station. ‘They knew we were coming. We have arrived on schedule . . .’ He spoke his thoughts, hoping to find clarity. ‘All was well on our last contact . . .’
No answers came to him. He shook his head and returned to his science officer’s station. ‘How long do we have?’
Lamb checked her console again. ‘We have enough enixium ore to last six more Cube transits.’
White sighed. ‘Can we harvest it from the wreckage?’
‘In time. But it I doubt we’d find enough to see us through one transit.’ She accessed her archive, and a new screen of information appeared. ‘There’s another ore station in transit range.’
‘Who owns it?’
‘The Venusian Accord.’
White cursed under his breath, then remembered where he was. He straightened, clenching his toes as he tried to ease his weary legs. He pushed his shoulders back and inhaled until his lungs were full. ‘Send a message to the rest of our ships, tell them what we’ve found here.’
Lamb obeyed, working her console.
Captain White paced the bridge, thinking. This was the third ore station to be destroyed in the last month. Three times he had arranged a deal to replenish their ore, three times they had travelled to a station, only to find it destroyed. White didn’t like to jump to conclusions, he preferred evidence and methodology over instinct, but even he could not deny that there was a deliberate pattern to this destruction, a pattern aimed at him. Their position was weakened with every new transit, their ore supply diminished. An attack was coming, it was only a matter of time.
‘Captain,’ the navigation officer called. ‘Contact: an arkship out of Cube transit.’
White looked to the windows and saw the shockwave of disturbed space upset the debris field. The chiseled bulk of an arkship overshadowed them. He didn’t need to check a console screen to know that it was much longer than the Hope of Montrose’s mere seven hundred meters. He guessed it was four times that, with a formidable armament dotted over its stone and metal skin. He looked over the shoulder of one of his officers, reading the information on his screen. White shuddered, realizing who the arkship belonged to.
‘Power up the Gilgore grid,’ he ordered. ‘Charge weapons, fire up the Cube drive and plot an evasive course away from that arkship.’
The bridge cam
e alive with activity as alarms sounded.
‘Grid charging,’ an officer shouted. ‘Eight minutes to full power.’
‘Cube drive online,’ another announced. ‘Twelve minutes to deployment.’
‘Prep all fighters. And get the people to the shelters!’ White said, watching the menacing arkship, knowing that the bombardment was coming, any moment now.
The warning alarms continued, marking time.
Any moment now.
‘They haven’t attacked,’ he muttered. ‘Why haven’t they attacked?’
The arkship drifted closer and closer, pushing through the ochre gas of the Jovian Ruins until its surface details became visible. White could see the giant hanger bays, glowing rectangles of light cut into the dark polished surface. About them were gun towers, pointing towards the Hope of Montrose. They didn’t stand a chance.
‘Open coms,’ White ordered.
‘Channel open,’ an officer responded.
‘This is Captain White of the Jackson arkship, the Hope of Montrose. Under the terms of the Convention of Janus we request safe–’
A voice broke over the static-charged channel. ‘This is the arkship Gargan, of the House of Draig. I am Valtais Jacque Valine. Did you destroy our station?’
‘Your station?’ White asked, his thoughts struggling to keep up with the situation. ‘This is a Vermeulen facility, we arranged for–’
‘The Vermeulen family are part of the Draig Empire now. This station is under our protection. Or at least it was.’
‘We didn’t destroy it!’ White said quickly.
‘If that is true, then – under the terms of the Convention of Janus – you will submit to our inspection.’ There was a note of triumph in Valine’s words, and White felt the blood leave his face. He gripped the back of a chair, trying to catch his breath. He was trapped. To refuse Valine’s demand would doom them all to certain death.
Valtais Valine’s voice boomed over the com. ‘Are you there, Captain?’
‘Yes . . . yes.’ White composed himself. ‘We have nothing to hide. We await your arrival.’
He shut off the com channel and turned to his bridge officers. ‘You know what is to come. Offer no resistance. Shut down the Gilgore grid, but keep the Cube drive charging, in case we need it.’
His officers stared at him, their faces without hope. They looked to him for inspiration, but he had none to give. ‘We will get through this, I promise,’ White said, uncertain if he believed it.
A dot of light emerged from the Gargan’s hanger bay, growing as it approached the Hope of Montrose.
‘Invite the Valtais to the Briefing Room,’ White instructed an officer. ‘I’ll meet her there.’
He took in the bridge one last time, then found the exit.
The Briefing Room was on the next level down. White always found it a cold space, and he preferred to keep his meetings here short. He paced as he waited, rubbing his hands together, hoping to keep the chill out of his bones.
The door opened and two of his guards entered, followed by a platoon of Draig soldiers. Finally, a woman stepped through the doorway. She was taller than him, athletic with a domineering attitude. Her slim face was framed by short dark hair, beautiful but ruthless. She gazed at him with predatory eyes, her features set. Then, her red lips cracked into a smile.
‘Captain White,’ Valine grinned. ‘It’s so good to meet you.’
She sat in the chair at the top of the long table that dominated the room. Captain White’s chair.
Flustered, White stood over her, uncertain how to respond.
‘Please, sit,’ Valine said, offering him one of the other chairs.
White obeyed. ‘I promise you, we did not destroy that station. We came here to resupply. We wouldn’t do anything to . . .’
Valine raised her hand, and White’s voice faded.
‘I know you didn’t do it,’ Valine said quietly. She glanced at her soldiers and they left the room, taking White’s guards with them. The Briefing Room seemed to increase in size, and White felt the chill air against his skin.
‘You . . . you do?’ he checked.
‘What would you have to gain from destroying an enixium ore processing station, when you are in such dire need of enixium ore? You do need enixium ore, I presume?’
Captain White hesitated.
‘That is why you are here, Captain, is it not?’ Valine said, drawing a circle on the polished table top with her fingernail.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ White replied.
‘It’s a shame about the station. This leaves you in a very vulnerable position, doesn’t it? Your arkship, running out of ore, with a hostile ship in the region picking off defenseless stations.’
‘We still have ore,’ White protested.
‘Yes,’ Valine said quietly, her voice soft, calming. ‘Perhaps three or four transits? I hear other stations have been attacked. In fact, I am told there’s quite a shortage of enixium ore at the moment.’
White said nothing. He was trapped, no way out.
Valine put her hand on his, and he jumped. ‘The House of Draig has enixium ore. We could help you,’ she said.
‘You would trade with us?’
‘Trade? No.’
‘Then what?’ White asked, finding some of his strength again.
‘Our ore is for the Draig Empire, but you are allies with the House of Kenric, correct?’
‘We have a trade agreement with them, yes. But we want no part of your fight.’
Valine stood, walking behind White’s chair. ‘Our war with Prince Halstead is over. That was Orcades Draig’s war. Orcades is dead, and now I am in command, the newly appointed Valtais to the House of Draig. I do not subscribe to Orcades’ wasteful ambition. I seek expansion through co-operation. You can be part of that expansion, Lewis.’
She knew his first name. White shuddered.
‘Being part of the Draig Empire will bring you security . . . not just for your arkship, but for you and your family. I’m sure you want to see your wife and children prosper, don’t you? How old is little Morag now?’
White stood, his face flushed with anger. ‘What do you want? I’ll submit to your inspection, but you threaten my family and I’ll–’
‘You’ll do what? You are not in a position to make threats, Captain. And you do not need to. As I said, I am here to help.’
White glared at Valine, the hairs on his neck bristling. ‘What do you want?’ he asked again, keeping his voice level.
Valine returned to the Captain’s chair. ‘Your vessel is the flagship of the Jackson family fleet. You are the most senior captain, correct.’
‘We are a co-operative. All six captains make the decisions together.’
‘Yes, and I’m sure it’s all very amicable. But the reality is that you are the senior captain. Your recommendations hold weight. Your word is final.’
White sat again, listening.
‘What I want,’ Valine said, ‘is for the Jackson family to renounce their allegiance to the House of Kenric and join the Draig Empire. In return you will have our protection, and the enixium ore that you so desperately need. Free of charge for our friends.’
White’s features hardened. ‘You destroyed the station, didn’t you?’
Valine smiled, standing. ‘Send our offer to your fleet. I will expect your answer within four hours.’
‘Do we have a choice?’ White asked bitterly.
Valine stood at the door. ‘It’s time you realized you’re on the wrong side, Lewis. But it’s not too late to correct that oversight.’
She smiled once more, then was gone. White remained, thinking in the cold silence, before he reached for the com system and sent a message to the other captains.
GHOSTS OF HELLAS
Wynn rested on the bridge of Lexica, his feet on the console as he watched the slow turn of The Infinite through the thick dust of the Red Desert. The light dimmed and flickered as the cloud of dirt and particles drifted by. From time to time a
larger piece of rock obscured the filaments of starlight, pushing shadows into the tiny interior of the bridge. Somewhere out there, hidden by the crimson haze, were the larger pieces of the planet Mars; Hellas and Tharsis, two mountains of rock that dwarfed any other surviving fragments. He activated the navigational holograph and found their location. Not too far away, he realized, and adjusted their flightpath to take them closer in. The ship responded, an almost imperceptible movement that was only noticeable by the shifting vision beyond the windows. As Lexica accelerated, music played softly in the background; something Bara had chosen while she showered. He heard her singing, getting closer to the bridge, and he removed his feet before she chastised him.
‘Did you alter course?’ she asked as she appeared in the hatch, rubbing her short hair with a towel. Wynn smiled at her, taking in her naked body.
‘You can tell?’ he asked as she looked at the view.
‘Yeah, of course. Where’re we going?’
‘A tour of Hellas,’ Wynn said enthusiastically.
Bara stared at him, frowning. ‘It’s a big rock.’
‘Maybe, but I’ve never seen it before.’
She flicked the towel at him, catching his leg. ‘I told you not to put your feet on the console!’
Wynn laughed, pulling her into his lap. ‘Is their nothing you miss?’
‘Nope! Better get used to it!’
She kissed him, then curled up against his chest. ‘Why Hellas? Why not Tharsis?’
Wynn shrugged. ‘Maybe we’ll do that next.’
‘Some honeymoon,’ Bara said, poking his stomach.
He laughed, wallowing in this time alone with her, then he grabbed her hand, linking his fingers with Bara’s. Wynn looked at her thumb, followed the line of her arm, past her slender neck to Bara’s beautiful face. He lost himself in those eyes, knowing that his love for her was reflected back at him. For the first time in years, Wynn felt complete, content in this tiny kingdom of two. There was no need for anything more.
‘I love you, Duchess,’ Wynn said, moving to kiss her again.
Bara tensed, pulling away. She stood, drawing the towel over her exposed body. ‘Sol! Didn’t I say?’
‘I was only joking, Bara.’
‘You’re not funny! You call me that once more and – I swear, Wynn! – I’ll divorce you and go work the Ort Runner routes for the rest of my life.’