“So what you’re saying is that you don’t trust us Dariama to take the position of honor at the front of the formation. You think we’ll break and run as soon as Zukra comes into the system.”
Bonnie shook her head. “No, Admiral Sobong. That’s not at all what I meant. I merely meant that we have much more experience fighting the Ashkelon than you do. We’ve fought six major battles with them in the last year. Not counting four raids. The Taegu and Bagrami have been fighting them for more than a year as well. But you have not had the joy of fighting these assholes yet. And experience counts in this kind of thing.”
Sobong looked down at the conference table and pursed her lips in an eerily Human expression. Bonnie was constantly struck by how much the Dariama were like Humans. Except for their strange ears and different knee and elbow joints, they could almost pass for one.
Sobong spoke, still staring down at the table. It was almost as if she were speaking to herself, thinking out loud.
“We Dariama have a lot to make up for, Admiral. We have performed poorly in every war for the last two thousand years. Yes, we have broken and run from several battles in that time. Every species in the Arm looks down their nose at us. They call us cowards behind our backs. Sometimes to our faces.”
Sobong lifted her head and looked Bonnie straight in the face. “We will take the front of the formation, Admiral. This is our time to put the Arm on notice. The Dariama will not go quietly. We will meet these bastards in the place of honor.”
There was a silence in the room. Bonnie glanced down and across the crowded table to Commander Winston. Winnie had been Tactical Liaison with the Dariama for months. When it came to the Dariama, she was the most knowledgeable Human in the Arm.
Winnie looked back at her and gave slow, almost imperceptible nod. Bonnie moved her gaze to the right, back up the table to the figure of Admiral Woderas, leader of the Taegu detachment. He also gave a short nod. Finally, Bonnie looked directly across at the huge figure of Admiral Baysig of the Bagrami. Baysig gave her a wink and a smile.
Returning her gaze to Sobong, Bonnie spoke.
“So be it,” said Bonnie. “The Dariama will take the front line. And good luck to you, Admiral.”
Sobong leaned back now, her point won. She looked across at Bonnie.
“And if I could make another suggestion…”
“Please,” said Bonnie.
Chapter Twenty-One
One Light Year from Dekanna
Battlecruiser Revenge
Admiral Zukra greeted Admiral Tanno in his day cabin, just off the bridge of the Revenge.
“Welcome, Admiral,” Zukra said, speaking Nidarian. He lounged back in his chair and waved at a decanter on the table between them. “Please, sit, enjoy some wine. I had this brought along especially for you. Straight from the best Nidarian vineyards.”
Tanno took his seat. A slave hurried to pour his wine. Tanno lifted it in a toast.
“To the destruction of the Humans!”
Zukra smiled, took his own glass, and toasted with Tanno.
“Indeed, Admiral. This time, we leave their ships a cloud of junk cluttering up the Dekanna system for a thousand years!”
“Aye, m’lord,” said Tanno. “With our fleets combined, we outnumber them by almost two to one.”
Zukra leaned back again, happy. It had taken him a long time to get to this point. The Humans had humiliated him again and again - at the initial battles in the Sol system, driving his task force out of that system; then fighting him to a draw in his own home system, taking the planet Deriko away from him.
Leaving his fleet so battered it had taken many months to repair and refit.
No more.
Now we smash the Humans. And the Dariama cowards. And the remnants of the Taegu and Bagrami fleets as well. And then…
Zukra looked across the table at the admiral in front of him, swilling wine as if he didn’t have a care in the universe.
…then I smash the Nidarians. This idiot admiral in front of me has no concept of what is coming. And that fool Garatella - I will personally chop his head off in the arena. Then we’ll roll over the rest of the Arm like a hot knife through butter.
“Should we talk fleet deployment and strategy, m’lord?” asked Tanno.
“What? Oh. Yes, of course. We should do that,” answered Zukra. He bent forward and brought up a small holo over the desk.
“I expect the Humans to be in the front of their formation. They would never trust the Dariama to take the first shock. So we’ll put our destroyers and cruisers in a double column up front, with our battlecruisers right behind them. We’ll blast through the Human fighters and keep going, right into their capital ships. We’ll hit them hard and fast. I really don’t care how many fighters and destroyers I lose - I intend to keep going right at them, without stopping. For that matter, I don’t even care how many cruisers I lose. I’ll sacrifice every cruiser I’ve got if that’s what it takes to blast my way through these animals.
“When we break through the Human front and start blasting away at their battlecruisers, they’ll realize the battle is lost. They’ll have no choice but to break and run toward Earth. We’ll chase the survivors back there and wipe that planet clean of these animals once and for all.
“When they break and run, Tanno, you send a detachment to hunt down any stragglers that flee Coreward. Mop up any remaining resistance here at Dekanna and pacify the system. Once you’ve got the Dariama surrender, just wait for me here. I’ll meet you back here when I’m finished with Earth. That should do it. We’ll have no more worries from these rebellious species.”
Tanno drained his wineglass and reached out for another. The slave poured the wine and Tanno started on his second glass.
“I had hoped to go to Earth and help destroy them there, m’lord. Is there no chance I can accompany you?”
“No, Tanno. Stay here and keep control of this system until I return. We can’t have any rebels escaping to start trouble somewhere else.”
“And what comes after that? Once we have Dekanna? Where do we go next?”
Ah. He’s not as stupid as he looks. He’s fishing for any hint that I intend to turn on the Nidarians. Which I do. But he can’t know that.
“First, we’ll need to fully pacify Dekanna and get weapons factories set up here, establish another spacedock to build warships. Maybe two. Then, it’s straight out the arm - right toward the Perseus Transit. We’ll sweep everything before us.”
Tanno mused aloud as he sipped his wine. “There’s a lot of wild barbarian systems out that way. Some of them can fight.”
“Compared to us? Don’t be an ass, Tanno.”
Enroute to Dekanna
Packet Boat PB04
Jim was sleeping when his internal comm started the insistent beeping that meant he had a priority call.
“Oh, Lord,” he groaned. “What now?” He rolled over in bed and glanced at the clock.
It was 0514 hours.
“This better be good,” he spoke to the empty air. “Read message.”
Jim came wide awake. “On my way,” he replied. Jumping out of bed, he threw on his uniform pants and ran for the medbay, tugging on his uniform shirt as he went.
Corporal Gaines was standing at the medbay entrance, wringing his hands, as Jim approached.
“I think she’s waking up, sir!” the young medic exclaimed, in obvious distress. “She’s tossing and turning and mumbling. I don’t know what to do!”
Jim nodded, blasting through the hatch into the medbay. He ran over to the medpod and looked at Rita through the transparent lid.
Sure enough, she was moving. Her head rolled back and forth. Her eyelids fluttered. Her limbs moved spasmodically, as if she was dreaming.
Jim flipped the latch on the top cover and raised the lid of the medbay. He leaned over it, stroking her cheeks, her hair, trying to calm her.
&nb
sp; “Easy babe. Easy. I’m here. Just relax. Just take it easy. You’re safe.”
She kept twitching, rolling her head. Jim was at a loss what to do next, so he just kept stroking her hair, rubbing her shoulders. Suddenly her eyes flicked open. She stared at him, frozen. He could see fear on her face.
“It’s OK, babe. I’m here. You’re safe. Everything is OK.”
She stared hard at him. The fear on her face didn’t change.
“Who are you?” she asked.
***
Hours later, Jim returned to his bed, dog-tired. Between the medic and himself, they had gotten Rita stabilized again. She was sleeping now, mildly sedated.
But she didn’t recognize Jim.
And worse, she didn’t know herself.
That was the last thing Jim had expected. He had thought she would wake up, look at him and smile. Give him a hug and a kiss. Tell him how much she missed him.
None of that had happened. She had simply recoiled from him in fear. She didn’t know him.
And she had no idea who she was.
This is not good. I’ve heard of amnesia from a blow to the head. I guess this is from the poison in her system. But it’s sure a bad time for her to forget everything. We’re one day away from a battle with Zukra.
Her vitals showed her internal organs were still declining. The poison may have been cleared out of her system - but the damage had been done. She needed urgent hospitalization.
He had sent a message to Bonnie via ansible. He hadn’t waited around for a response; there wasn’t anything Bonnie could do. They had to tough it out, hope that Rita could hold on until they arrived at Dekanna.
In ten hours, they would be in the system. Jim would take Rita directly to Naval HQ and hand her over to the Dariama doctors.
Maybe they can help her.
A sudden realization hit him. He wouldn’t be able to fight in the battle with the Fleet. Bonnie had told him that when he returned from his crazy mission to find Rita, his career was over. He would be drummed out of the EDF.
To stand by and watch as Bonnie and the Fleet took on Zukra…and be unable to do anything. Jim couldn’t imagine any torture worse than that.
I’m going to go reason with Bonnie. Surely, she’ll relent. I know we are short-handed on pilots. Surely, she’ll let me take a Merlin and join the fight before she shitcans me. Hell, I’ll fly as an ensign, if that’s what it takes.
Dekanna System
Battlecruiser Merkkessa
Bonnie read the message from Jim once again on her tablet and sighed.
She saw no use in sending a response. There was nothing anyone could do until Jim arrived in the packet boat. And that would not be for another ten hours.
In the meantime, she had a fleet to prepare. A battle plan to tune, adjust, disseminate to the rest of the fleet. A hundred things to check to ensure that all was ready for battle.
And she had another message. One that caused her no small amount of humor. A message from Captain Westerly on the battlecruiser Victory.
Arriving pretty much simultaneously with Zukra. Try not to shoot us as we come into the system. If we can, we’ll come in behind him and give him a little surprise.
She had sent a message back to Westerly.
Kick Zukra right in the ass if you get a chance. I’m sending you a little surprise also. I left two cruisers at Deriko to protect Tatiana until Zukra left. Those two are on their way here now. I’m going to re-direct them to join up with you. That will give you four cruisers as a screen. Enjoy!
Now it was getting late. Maybe she could sleep a little. She got up from her desk and went through to her Flag Cabin behind. Luke was waiting for her in bed, also going through his tablet.
“Looking at your battle plan?” Bonnie asked.
Luke grinned. “When you’re a destroyer captain, you don’t have much of a battle plan. Get between the enemy and your capital ships. Hope you don’t die. That’s about it.”
Bonnie smiled. “There’s a little more to it than that.”
Luke patted the bed. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”
Bonnie nodded, pulled off her uniform, and lay down beside him.
“Lights, out!” she called. The room went dark. They lay quietly for a long time, each in their own thoughts. After a while, though, Bonnie felt compelled to speak.
“How many times now have we lain awake before a battle, wondering if we’ll make it through?”
Luke was silent for a bit before he finally spoke. “I think I’ve lost count.”
“And why do we do this, again?”
“You know why.”
They were again quiet for a while. Bonnie was the first one to break the silence.
“Yes. Because someone has to.”
Bonnie reached out a hand, felt for Luke’s, took it, held it.
“Try not to die tomorrow, love. I need you.”
“I’ll do my best. And you likewise. Come back to me.”
Bonnie squeezed his hand. They went quiet, then.
There was not much else to say.
Enroute to Dekanna
Packet Boat Donkey
Their last night before arriving at Dekanna was a long one. Neither Rachel nor Paco could sleep. They knew they might enter the system tomorrow and find the mangled remains of the EDF fleet floating in the black, shot to hell. It was a distinct possibility. Even counting the Dariama and the detachments of the Taegu and Bagrami fleets, the EDF was heavily outnumbered.
But they had high hopes they would arrive before the battle started. And get a chance to join the fight.
And that depended on Zukra. Nobody was sure when he would resume his advance. He was hovering one light outside the Dekanna system with his Nidarian allies. They had made no movement in forty-eight hours. Scouts reported there was a bit of shuttle traffic between the Ashkelon flagship and the Nidarian flagship, but otherwise things were quiet. They were just sitting there.
Taking their time, thought Rachel. The old psych game. They want to intimidate us. They hope we’ll turn tail and run, just thinking about it. They clearly don’t know Bonnie Page very well.
She heard a noise down the passageway. Paco was out of his cabin, moving toward the cockpit. She heard another hatch open.
Why, that son of a bitch! He’s going into Tika’s cabin! I told him not to do that! That fucking pervert!
“Tika. Is Paco in your cabin playing with your inert body?”
Oh.
Well.
OK…
Everybody faces death in their own way.
Planet Ridendo
City of Mosalia
Ollie knew Helen was dead. He had known since the night of the mission to the spacedock. If Helen had escaped, she would have sent him a message.
There was no message.
But actually, he had known long before that. He had known Helen would die as soon as the truck trundled off down the street from the warehouse on its way to the spaceport, with the woman he loved hidden in the shipping container.
And he had let her go. Against his better judgment, he had authorized the mission.
It was on him.
A coded message from the packet boat had finally arrived two days later, letting him know Helen didn’t make it. Jim Carter had been picked up successfully, and the packet boat was taking Jim to Dekanna. They would return to collect Ollie in four weeks. Maybe. If the EDF survived.
It didn’t matter. He didn’t care if they ever collected him.
His best Resistance cell had engineered the attack. They had packed a truck with enough explosives to take down a city block. It had taken months for them to collect the materials, bring them to the warehouse and prepare them.
Now it was time.
He would have preferred to attack Admiral Zukra’s palace. But that building was on the pinnacle of a hill in the center of the city, protected by a maze of winding streets and vehicle barriers that guaranteed failure if they tried to park a truck nearby.
Instead, they had selected Ashkelon Naval Headquarters at the spaceport. The large ten-story building was perfectly situated, at least from their viewpoint. Although it was protected by a heavy fence and armed guards, the back of it was right next to a warehouse.
Poor planning on the part of their Navy, thought Ollie. Somebody wasn’t thinking far enough ahead on that one.
The Resistance had loaded the truck with 8,000 pounds of explosive. It had been driven into the spaceport and parked on the street in front of the warehouse - placing it directly behind Naval Headquarters.
I wish they could have gotten it a bit closer. But I think this will do.
The thought had crossed his mind; all he had to do was sit in the back of the bomb truck when it went off - and the pain of losing Helen would end.
But Helen wouldn’t like that, he knew. She would call him a fool and a coward for taking the easy way out.
So he sat in a vehicle two klicks outside the spaceport fence, waiting.
He had to see it.
He had to know that Helen had been avenged. He had found a spot on the streets where he could park with a good view of the distant building.
Ollie leaned over, putting himself below the level of the car windshield in case it blew out toward him.
The concussion rocked the car. The sound was deafening, a cracking push of sound that left his ears ringing. The overpressure knocked out windows up and down the street, glass falling from the buildings around him like sharp, glittering ice. He waited a second after the concussion, to make sure the windshield of the car was still intact, then sat up to take a look.
Far in front of him, the Ashkelon Naval Headquarters building had disappeared. All that was left was a huge dirty cloud rising high into the air over a monstrous pile of rubble.
That’s for Helen, you bastards.
The Short End: Broken Galaxy Book Four Page 22