2: Betrayal of Ramus

His name was Commander Jol Kareth of the Tenth Legion, though those who knew him best called him Commander Jol, or Jol if they were on leave. In the late hours after-action, when the bridge lights were low, Jol would often think about those who served under him and knew him best. His crew was the only family he had.
The Dreadnought, Aegis of Orion, was home to that family. Its hull was the size of a cathedral. It had the strength to weather any battle. Its banded armor plating was pockmarked with scars from countless skirmishes. Jol had even let a Church Shipsmith gild the side with a relatively small prayer of protection. Not that Jol believed in such, but some members of his crew appreciated the thought. The Aegis of Orion slid through the black of space as if it were an ancient sailing vessel from long ago on Earth's ancient oceans. It was built as a warship, a one-ship army. She could hold any line.
When the distress call came from Ramus, Jol had been four Imperial Hours out, on patrol duty on the edge of Ramus territory, cataloging radar blips in no man’s space. He had not believed the report at first. The Psikers wouldn't dare assault Ramus in such a direct manner, and even if they did, it should have been impossible for them to warp directly on top of Ramus.
He slid into the helm with practiced motion. He was used to the pressure of command. The bridge hummed to life; officers moved into position. He watched the burning dot of Ramus on the hologrid. His heart sank as images began to pour in of the destruction of Ramus. It would be four hours before his ship made it out of the final warp jump into the battle above Ramus.
By the time the Aegis of Orion made it to Ramus, the Psiker Warstars had warped away. But in chaos, the techs on Ramus had found a clue. Tracing the warp signature of the Warstars, they had found a smaller warp signature that matched. The Aegis was given the task of hunting down the rogue signature. It took Jol and his crew a few days, but they found a small convey and in it, a ship matching the rogue signature hiding in an asteroid field in no man's space outside of Karnage territory.
“Status report?”
“Target systems are down,” his tactician replied. “Taking hits from small frigates, but shields are holding. Looks like they're about to scatter. Several signatures are beginning to enter warp. The rest are powering down.” The Aegis crippled the ships that were trying to enter warp with a quick spray of firepower. The battle was over before it began.
Jol’s jaw clenched. He knew there was a connection between the courier they had locked down and the Psiker Warstars that had devastated Ramus. The warp signature was faint, but still trackable, matching the same warp way the Warstars had used to strike against Ramus.
“Bring the courier up on sensors,” Jol said. “Get me a lock on its ID and patch me through to their coms.”
A young lieutenant gave him the ship’s ID. The onboard computer took the input, searched its database, and spat out: “Unidentified Craft,” in a robotic voice. A scan of the rest of the ships in the convoy showed most of them to be unidentified as well, but two came up as members of the salvager ring known as the Black Ledger. The lieutenant continued his dig into the enemy craft’s records. It showed they had sold some data spikes thirteen imperial days ago to a Corinth info-broker under the name of Guild K’est. The payment method was a stack of encrypted coins, credited in such a way to suggest evasive intent.
“Guild K’est?” Jol thought to himself. The name would probably mean nothing to most captains, but to him it brought up a mental file, born of years of espionage for the War Born. Corinth brokers often fronted their political business; names were currency in Corinth Society, to be used and disposed of. He knew of one Corinth broker- Kir’n-who had made a career of selling warp lane access to both friends and subtly-placed rivals.
“Confirmed,” the lieutenant said. “Manifest indicates one sealed container labelled ‘data shard - non-operational’. We also found a shard with a warp lane leading from an abandoned Karnage hull-yard to Ramus. I suspect they copied the shard and sold the copy as ‘non-operational’”
A chill brushed over Jol. Kir’n had been sold a warp lane that directly led to the heart of Ramus, and the Psikers had taken advantage of their momentary weakness. His home had burned because of these dogs.
“Prep a boarding squad,” Jol growled. “Captain Torev, you’ll lead. Take the heavies. We breach in three. I want them alive-they'll answer for the desecration of Ramus.
Torev nodded and moved out. Jol watched on the map as the boarding ships crashed into the small courier, locking onto its hull, piercing into the metal sides, and unleashing a wave of angry Ramus heavy shock troops. Jol almost felt bad for them. Almost.
They cut across the corridor with precision learned by years of battle. The shock troops did not rush. Just efficiently cleared each room. On the third floor, they met opposition. A spray of fire lashed out across the front of Torev’s chest armor, bouncing off as he stepped back and out of the rain of fire. His team flanked the defenders, knocking them out with broad wave fire. In the middle of them, the shock troopers found a data shard.
Torev’s voice was careful. “We have the crate. Data shard locked inside. Signature present—Old Imperium tech by the look.” The shock troops brought the data shard and captured enemies aboard the Aegis. The data shard was taken straight to the command bridge.
“Open it,” Jol said.
The techs had it open within minutes. Inside the container lay a simple shard. It was an older model, well over two hundred years old. But the techs were able to hook it up to the computer with a little workaround. After bypassing the firewalls, Jol pulled open the main contents of the shard. There it was, the very warp way the Psikers had used to assault Ramus. A warp way that shouldn't exist.
“Contact the Corinth’s diplomat,” Jol ordered. “Guild K’est has some explaining to do.”
The diplomat answered with a polite flourish hours later. Jol knew the diplomat had made him wait, which only served to make him angrier. The Corinth’s voice came across the comms, like silk over wire, “Commander Kareth,” It purred. “We have many brokers and buyers. Guild K’est pays handsomely and acts within its right to trade within the Corinth Coalition. The Manifest is legitimate. Move on and let commerce do its work.”
Jol felt the old, acid taste of disgust. Commerce had given the Psikers a back door directly to the heart of Ramus. “We are detaining the manifest, and there will be a review of the Corinth's actions.” He spat.
There was a pause long enough to see the Corinth brighten in color, a sign of nerves within its species. “You overreach, Commander.”
Jol shut the channel. He sent the data shard to maximum security and had the Black Ledger crew thrown in the brig. Jol thought the trouble was contained, and it would be an easy report to Ramus. He was wrong. The galaxy has a way of cutting plans short.
The container had a trace, an echo of the sale between the Black Ledger crew and the Corinth, where it had been catalogued with a unique phrasing. The phrase ‘Operation: AsheFall’ marked the sale. Tracing the sale back, it had happened two imperial weeks ago.
Someone had put the phrase in the manifest as a tag. Not as a courtesy. A marker.
“Get intelligence on the container,” Jol said. “And query for any known buyers who ordered under the Operation: AsheFall tag.”
The lieutenant frowned. “There’s nothing on common exchanges, sir. If more were sold, they hid it well. We can trace the more hidden accounts, but it will take time.”
“Transmit our findings to the Council,” Jol said into the comm. “But encrypt it so only the Councilor’s sigils can open it. Do not let any broker, Corinth or otherwise, see this.”
He suspected the Council would hesitate. He preferred action to hesitation. If it were up to him, the Corinth and Psikers would both burn for the destruction of Ramus. The Council soon replied. They wanted absolute proof of the Corinth involvement. Jol would have to deliver the data shard and prisoners to the Council. It would be a dangerous journey. The Corinth would be hunting him.
The Aegis went dark and began its long trek back to Ramus. Jol’s technicians ran scan after scan, indicating they were alone in space, but Jol couldn't shake the feeling they were being hunted. As he exited their second warp jump, warnings began to flash on his display.
At the warp point, a ring of derelict Corinth freighters lay in tatters. Jol sensed a trap. His uneasiness grew when he noticed the K’est insignia clearly visible on the still-burning ships. The ships were bait, but where was the net?
“Countermeasures,” Jol ordered. “Stay clear. We don’t board unless we have confirmation.”
They swept the wreckage with long, painful sweeps. Then something small moved- the ghost of an engine coil igniting. It was not as dead as it seemed. A ship was waking.
The small ship pinged out a signal, but they were not hailing the Aegis. The net would be closing fast. There was little time to react. Panel flashed warnings as three sleek hulls ripped into existence from warp. Three Man-o-Wars moved into long-range attack- precisely as Jol had feared.
“Full power to the shields,” Jol ordered. “And get us into Warp!”
The bridge was a symphony of action. Systems answered. The attackers’ barrage rained down upon them. The broadside battered the Aegis’ side, tearing into its shields. The Aegis was no match for three Man-o-Wars. Then the worst happened. Just as the warp opened a Man-o-War moved into position and tethered itself with a gravity field to the Aegis, locking them together, trapping Jol and his ship.
They had no choice. “Open fire!” Jol commanded. The Aegis rocked back as the full might of her guns was unleashed at her captor. The Man-o-War’s shields held firm. Jol then saw the miracle. A slight haze in the Man-o-War’s shields next to the gravity field projector.
“Drop the shields,” Jol ordered in a final stand. “I want all power to focus fire on their gravity projector!” The shields dropped, and a spattering of firepower lashed out across the Aegis’ hull, but she held. The Man-o-War’s shield flickered, then its gravity projector burst into flames, and the Aegis ignited its engines, crashing through the warp way.
The Aegis slid along the warp toward Ramus. Its engines were a slow, powerful thrum that filled the old vessel with life. Within the ship, the sealed crate sat. Its secrets would determine the future of Ramus and the future of the galaxy.