Odysseus Ascendant (Odyssey One Book 7) Read online

  ALSO BY EVAN CURRIE

  Odyssey One Series

  Into the Black

  The Heart of Matter

  Homeworld

  Out of the Black

  Warrior King

  Odysseus Awakening

  Odyssey One: Star Rogue Series

  King of Thieves

  Warrior’s Wings Series

  On Silver Wings

  Valkyrie Rising

  Valkyrie Burning

  The Valhalla Call

  By Other Means

  De Oppresso Liber

  Open Arms

  The Scourwind Legacy

  Heirs of Empire

  An Empire Asunder

  Other Works

  SEAL Team 13

  Steam Legion

  Thermals

  The Atlantis Rising Series

  The Knighthood

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2018 by Cleigh Currie

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by 47North, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and 47North are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781503901070

  ISBN-10: 1503901076

  Cover design by Adam Hall

  CONTENTS

  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

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER 1

  Forge Facility, Ranquil

  Her footsteps echoed off the floor and walls of the arching corridor as she strode through the immense structure that rested inside the corona of the Priminae System’s primary star. Normally, the sheer concept of this cosmic engineering marvel would occupy most of her mind, but Admiral Gracen had no time for that now.

  Her courier ship had just arrived in system, bypassing the normal meet and greet on Ranquil as it dived directly into the star that hid the Forge and docked with one of the hundreds of orbital stations that made up the shield system preserving the world within from the burning fires of the star.

  She had very little idea as to what exactly had happened to the commodore’s task force in this last mission, but whatever it was had to be serious. Weston was many things, but an alarmist wasn’t one of them, and while he was certainly more than able to be insubordinate for the right reasons, he rarely ever was rude unless wasting time with frivolities was about to get someone killed.

  Thus his message—via encrypted Priminae messenger crystal and delivered by hand by the Odysseus’ first officer—which all but ordered her to take time to visit the Forge facility where the Odysseus was undergoing repairs and refit, was unusual for the man.

  Whatever it was, Weston’s reveal had best be good.

  Or very, very bad. All things considered, she supposed she was betting on the latter.

  That was just how her luck went.

  She stepped around a corner and into one of the open sections of the station. The observation windows showed a vista of the roiling stellar plasma that lay beyond the shield as well as the serene world floating below. She only had eyes for the form of the Odysseus, berthed opposite her position.

  The big ship had taken a beating, and the admiral felt a pang in her chest at the carbon scoring that seemed to eclipse the white ceramic of the hull. Most of the holes had apparently been patched, but according to reports, the ship’s certification for deep-space travel was currently in limbo at the request of Commodore Weston.

  If she didn’t trust the man, she would be on a warpath already.

  We can’t have our damn flagship being held up in repairs one bit longer than needed. The Odysseus needs to be making regular returns to Earth’s orbit.

  Politics being what they were, the military situation on Earth was touchier than she’d ever seen, and she had served through three major wars that included “the big one,” as if that appellation hadn’t been used before. Right now, anything that upset the apple cart on Earth was a genuine threat to planetary security.

  So trust or not, Weston better have a damn good reason for requesting a hold on the certification.

  From what she could see, carbon scoring aside, the battle cruiser appeared to be in decent enough shape. A few combat scars would be an asset in the current climate back on Earth, giving the people a little evidence of the troubles that were still going on beyond the influence of the sun. Barring new information, Gracen wanted that ship back in space and doing its job.

  Yesterday.

  “Admiral Gracen?”

  She turned to see a young Priminae ithan, the local equivalent of a lieutenant by comparative ranks, approaching her. “Yes Ithan?”

  “I was sent to show you the way to the meeting concerning the Odysseus,” the young woman said. “If you’ll follow me.”

  Gracen gestured and then fell in behind the ithan as they started through the corridors. It didn’t take her long to recognize that they weren’t heading for the shuttle docks.

  “Excuse me, why aren’t we holding this meeting on the Odysseus?” Gracen asked.

  “I’m afraid I wasn’t cleared for any information regarding the Odysseus repairs,” the ithan admitted. “The entire section has been under rather extreme security since the arrival of the task group. Admiral Tanner’s orders, on request of Commodore Weston.”

  Gracen fell silent then and followed as the ithan led her through the maze of corridors.

  Eric Stanton Weston stood in the conference room with hands clasped behind his back, eyes on the ship that floated approximately a hundred meters away. He’d requested the farthest slip available, wanting to keep his ship and the being that had apparently taken possession of it as far away as possible from any other similar entities.

  He estimated that would ultimately prove to be a losing proposition as long as they kept the ship intact, but he had to at least try. Whether they would finish the core repairs to the Odysseus was the most important part of the upcoming meeting with the admiral, a subject he had decidedly mixed feelings on.

  The entity, Odysseus, was unlike the others he had encountered.

  Central was very much like the Priminae themselves. Far too calm and self-assured for his liking, but with the very real knowledge and experience to back up those assurances. Gaia had been, well, the force of nature she was named after. Or perhaps she pretended to be a force of nature. He really didn’t know, nor did he especially care at this point. Neither of the entities he had dealt with before was as young as Odysseus, nor as innocent in appearance or action.

  Eric didn’t have a clue how
to act with a child on his ship, let alone a child being his ship in a very real way.

  This is going to be a long discussion.

  A tone from the door signalled that someone was approaching, and he turned just as it opened to admit the admiral. Eric straightened to attention and saluted automatically as she walked in, eyes on him briefly before she looked past him to the Odysseus floating in the distance.

  “As you were,” Gracen ordered simply, “and let’s get this over with, shall we? I doubt I’ve been called all the way out here on short notice to hear anything good, so break the bad news already.”

  Eric realized his thoughts were evident on his face, judging by the way the admiral’s expression changed before he even began to talk. She sighed deeply, holding up a hand to cut him off even as he took a breath to begin.

  “Damn it, Commodore, this is going to be another Weston Special to clean up, isn’t it?”

  “Ma’am . . .” He tipped his head slightly. “I’m afraid this goes back to my second mission to Ranquil. There was an aspect of that mission that’s been downplayed in the reporting. I left out some details about the Priminae System designated as Central.”

  “You . . .” Gracen paused, head cocking slightly as she seemed uncertain she’d heard him correctly. “You left out some details? Commodore, you had best explain yourself right now. That statement could be interpreted as a dereliction.”

  Eric sighed. “I know. Didn’t feel I had a lot of choice at the time and, like most secrets, it snowballed on me faster than I would ever have thought possible. During the invasion I . . . encountered Earth’s version of Central.”

  “Stop.”

  Gracen’s voice snapped sharply as she held up a hand, glaring at him past the outspread fingers. She took a breath, her arm dropping slowly. “Something tells me I need more details than that. What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Central isn’t a computer system, Admiral,” Eric said. “Not in the traditional sense, at least, not any more than you or I are computer systems. I’m not even sure what the hell Central is, and I doubt the Priminae have the slightest clue either. It’s an intelligence, certainly, maybe more than that. People would have called it a god, once upon a time, but I wouldn’t care to make any real statements to that effect myself. Earth’s version is currently calling herself Gaia, so you make what you want of that.”

  Gracen pulled out a seat on the frictionless runners and slumped into it, a hand coming up to cover her face.

  “Commodore, if you need some time off, there are easier ways to ask.”

  He smiled slightly. “I wish it was that simple, but that’s the reason why I didn’t report this fully after the mission. No evidence, and I didn’t really feel like spending quality time with the psych coats.”

  The admiral grimaced. “Damn.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Well, you wouldn’t have said that unless you currently do have evidence, I suppose. Which means that you’re probably telling the truth . . . which means now I have to figure out how to explain this lunacy to the Alliance leadership.” She paused. “Okay, hit me. What the hell do you have?”

  “I have another one of those intelligences,” Eric answered. “One that’s a lot more talkative than the first two, for better and worse. There’s no keeping the secret now—too many people have seen it.”

  “It?”

  Eric glanced over his shoulder, out to where the ship was resting.

  “Him, maybe?” Eric said thoughtfully with an uncertainty to his tone. “It’s calling itself Odysseus.”

  Gracen’s eyes snapped to the ship floating against the backdrop of the roiling plasma, then widened as she began to grasp what he was saying.

  “Your ship . . . ? But . . . how?”

  “Wish I knew,” Eric admitted. “Whatever it is, however it happened, I couldn’t even begin to speculate. What I know is that my crew is now half convinced that the ship is haunted . . . and they’re not exactly wrong.”

  “Setting aside the evidence, which I will be looking at, what can these things do?” Gracen asked.

  “Can’t really answer that either,” Eric said. “I know it’s more than I’ve seen, and what I’ve seen is bad enough.”

  Gracen stared evenly at him, not saying a word. She didn’t have to. He knew full well what she was asking.

  “They’re mind readers, or close enough to make little difference. Any mind in their range, they scan automatically,” he said. “There’s no intent behind it, just autonomic reflex if Central is to be believed. I’m pretty certain they can warp space-time somehow . . . I’d be dead if Gaia hadn’t intervened when the Odyssey came down over New York. How they do it, even what they do, I really don’t know. Central and Gaia are . . . the quiet sort. They apparently did their sowing of wild seeds long enough ago that now they’re relatively content to play a more subtle role in their respective worlds.”

  He glanced over his shoulder to where the Odysseus was floating. “Odysseus, however . . . isn’t. He’s . . . Lord, I don’t know what he is, but he’s emulating a child, maybe twelve years old. He’s excitable, craves adventure, wants to fight, or at least he did. Not sure he liked his first taste of a real battle.”

  “A child?” Gracen’s tone was disbelieving, not that Eric blamed her.

  What he was describing, on every conceivable level, was utterly ridiculous.

  His ship was, in effect, a preteen.

  If it weren’t so damn serious he’d be laughing so hard his guts would hurt.

  That, or cry.

  “Well, I suppose you’d best show me to this . . . evidence of yours,” Gracen said after a moment, pushing back and rising from the seat. “Lord, if you’re telling the truth, the security breach alone is . . .”

  “Why do you think I’ve never brought my ship inside the magnetic field of Ranquil since that second mission?” Eric asked as he walked around the small conference table and gestured to the door.

  “That’s all well and good, Commodore,” Gracen snapped, “but we still send people down, extremely knowledgeable people or those of high rank. Myself included.”

  “Never figured out how to tell the admiral she couldn’t visit the homeworld of our allies,” Eric said. “If it’s any consolation, they’ve sent people just as highly placed to us. I suppose that we’re even in that regard.”

  Gracen snorted. “Get me Gaia’s contact number and maybe I’ll buy that. In the meantime, let’s see to Odysseus.”

  Eric nodded. Her reply was really about the best he could expect. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with his report yet.

  “There’s more I’m afraid.”

  “Oh God,” Gracen said, groaning and pausing midstep. “Some other alien impossibility you want to drop on me, I suppose?”

  “No, this is purely a military issue, but it’s not a small one.”

  “I can deal with military issues,” Gracen said as they started to walk. “What is it?”

  “The Imperials managed to get a partial data dump of a Priminae cruiser,” he said. “We have a list of their search terms, but no confirmation on exactly what they were able to escape with.”

  “I’m assuming that there’s something within those terms that concerns you?” Gracen asked as they started down the hall.

  “One in particular.”

  “Hit me,” the admiral said, visibly steeling herself as they walked.

  “They looked for the data the Priminae had on any ‘allies,’ as well as the locations of those allies’ homeworlds.”

  Gracen froze in place, face ashen. “Do we have any idea what they escaped with?”

  “Not fully. But on the plus side, the Priminae didn’t store Earth’s location in their ship’s database, so we know they didn’t get that,” Eric answered. “I believe that was at your request.”

  She breathed a little easier. “Yes, it was.”

  “Unfortunately, the Imperials likely got one thing of import,” Eric said. “Apparently, the Priminae me
ntioned in the database that we only have one world, one system.”

  Gracen closed her eyes. “Fuck.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Imperial Space, World Kraike

  “One system.”

  Navarch Misrem winced but nodded simply. “Yes, My Lord.”

  “One system. One world. How is this possible?” Lord Jesan Mich rose to his feet, arms thrown up as he stalked forward. “According to your data, they’re barely infants at that.”

  “The data seems to be consistent,” Misrem said, “though it is possible that we’re dealing with some form of subterfuge, of course. However, based on what we’ve been able to gather from other sources, and our own records in battle . . .” She hesitated before repeating herself. “It seems to be consistent.”

  “This is absurd,” Jesan grumbled. “How certain are we that the initial contacts were with a single ship rather than a string of individual ships?”

  “Not very,” Misrem admitted with an annoyed frown. “Our best scans of the area were always based on the gravitic power curve of the combatants, and the unknown contact had effectively zero power curve we could detect. That makes identification extremely difficult, especially since we didn’t dare put any vessels close enough to get solid visual confirmation.”

  “I see. I do not like acting without sufficient information. The initial invasion with the tame Drasin was . . . mishandled.”

  “In my opinion, My Lord, it was a bad idea entirely,” Misrem said. “What was the plan? The Drasin destroy worlds. We could not have moved in afterward, as there would have been no controlling those planets after the Drasin were through.”

  “The point was never control, My Lady Misrem,” Jesan said softly. “The plan was annihilation.”

  Misrem blinked, uncertain she entirely believed what she’d heard.

  “Pardon?”

  “You didn’t mishear.”

  “That’s madness,” she insisted. “There’s no benefit to the Empire in that.”

  “Yes and no. There is, in fact, a benefit to the Empire, but that wasn’t the point of the invasion.”

  “What was the point, then?”

  “Revenge. Some of our people hold long grudges,” Jesan answered. “Longer than you or I might want to believe.”