Nightfall

by Jay Allan

  The doctor looked unhappy, astonished even. There was little doubt Denisov had stolen the crown as his most difficult patient. But, there was realization in his expression, too. He clearly knew Denisov had spoken nothing but the truth about their situation.

  The doctor just nodded, looking defeated in some way, as he acknowledged the admiral was right.

  “Okay, Admiral…but you have to take it easy when there isn’t a crisis. You won’t help any of us if you push yourself too hard and relapse.” A pause, then: “You could still die if we’re not careful…so keep that in mind.”

  Denisov nodded, or, at least, came as close as he could. He would try to remember that.

  It seemed like a damned difficult thing to forget.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Orbital Platform Killian

  Planet Craydon, Calvus System

  Year 318 AC

  “The technicians have finished installing the upgraded stealth units. The sixteen battleships are ready to go…but, I must say again, those units were not tested to any reasonable standards. They may work. They should work. But, there are a hundred things that could go wrong.”

  “We understand that, Dr. Witter, but I think you can see that there is no choice…and very likely no time to waste. Destroying—or even badly damaging—the enemy logistics fleet is just about our only chance to slow them down, to buy some time. Time you can use to complete and test more of the devices your teams are working on.” Barron understood the scientist’s concerns. He even agreed with them. Sixteen ships. Sixteen separate stealth generators. And, all it would take was one of them failing at the wrong time, and the entire operation would be compromised. The raiding force was strong—in many ways the main fleet felt gutted without those ships—but its target was vast, and whatever the Hegemony sent to Craydon, there was little doubt they would leave at least some defensive forces behind.

  None of that mattered. The fleet was busy preparing to defend its latest stronghold, but Barron knew they were going to lose. He didn’t share those thoughts, at least outside the circle of top commanders, nor did he behave in any way other than purely defiant and determined. But, the Hegemony forces were just too strong, and detaching sixteen of the fleet’s best battleships only made things worse in terms of the pending fight at Craydon.

  But, it gave something the fleet didn’t have otherwise. A chance. The forces at Craydon wouldn’t be fighting to save the planet, or even the Iron Belt. The combined might of Confederation arms was a decoy, their primary purpose to lure as much of the Hegemony’s force from Megara, and allow the raiding force to strip them of their logistics support.

  If the enemy’s supply and support ships could be hit hard enough, they would have to pull back from Craydon…maybe even from Megara. They were at the extreme end of a very long supply line back to their bases, and Barron knew his attack on those supply ships could do more than any noble stand at Craydon to stabilize the situation.

  At least he hoped it would be his attack. Admiral Nguyen had been silent on his thoughts, about whether Winters or Barron would lead the raiding force. The other would serve as his exec, and help command the main force at Craydon.

  “As soon as the stealth units are installed, the teams will begin to add the mods to the primary batteries.” There was hesitation in the scientist’s voice, again. The upgrades to the primaries were really just mods to the power transmission and flow parameters. In essence, trading safety and reliability for power. And range. The modified beams would be effective up to twenty percent farther out, and that took away more than eighty percent of the range advantage of the Hegemony railguns.

  It was only a guess what the cost would be for that…in disabled weapons and even critical failures. But, all three admirals present had agreed the changes should be made was quickly as possible.

  “Doctor, when can your people have the raiding force ready to go, with stealth units and enhanced primaries operational?” Nguyen sounded tired. Hell, Barron couldn’t imagine how exhausted the admiral was. He was about to drop himself, and Nguyen had more than fifty years on him. But, the fleet commander was still going, and keeping up every step of the way with his younger comrades, confirming to Barron again that he’d been the right choice for the job.

  “Three days, Admiral. Maybe four.”

  Nguyen was shaking his head before the scientist even finished. “The raiding force has to leave in two days, Doctor. We’ve waited too long as it is.” Barron had been thinking the same thing, and he suspected Winters had, too, but Nguyen beat them both to the punch. “You have to be finished in forty-eight hours, Doctor. I don’t care what you need. If it exists on Craydon, I will get it for you. But those ships have to be underway in forty-eight hours.”

  Witter looked like he was going to argue, but he glanced back and forth at the three admirals, each wearing a similar stony expression. Finally, he just said, “I will do all I can, Admiral.”

  Nguyen stared back, and his tone turned rigid, demanding, a lifetime of command duty clear in every syllable. “Make sure that is enough, Doctor. Forty-eight hours.”

  * * *

  “I want to thank you again, Andi, for bringing the researchers from the Institute here. I know you only did it because I asked you to.” Tyler paused, and he looked at her silently for a few seconds. “And, I also know you did it because you knew I’d be worried about you, that it would distract me.”

  Andi wasn’t surprised how well he understood what she had done and why. No one had ever known her like Tyler Barron, and it sometimes shocked her, as accustomed as she was to being mostly a mystery, even to those close to her, like the members of Pegasus’s longtime crew.

  “As a loyal Confederation officer, what else could I do?” She smiled at him, and reached over, running her palm softly over his cheek and back through his hair. She was happy they’d found some time, a little at least, to be together, amid all the stress and work preparing for yet another desperate battle. But, that happiness was a false veneer, she knew, and inside her was a black pit of sadness and despair.

  She knew Tyler as well as he knew her, and in his words, in his body language, in everything she could see and hear around him, she knew he didn’t expect to survive the coming battle.

  And, possibly worse, she didn’t expect him to make it either.

  The pleasure she felt, the joy at the two of them spending time together, it was quickly eradicated by the realization that these few, stolen hours could very well be their last together. She and Barron had always had an on again, off again kind of relationship, one of constant affection, but staggered by a realization that their lives were simply too different, that they were constantly pulled in different directions.

  Andi could never imagine herself as the dutiful spouse of an admiral, and she couldn’t quite get her head around one of the navy’s top officers married to a smuggler and a Badlands adventurer, either. I guess I’m a stone-cold killer now, too. Word of her battle to the death with Ricard Lille had spread throughout the fleet, despite the fact that she’d never spoken of it to anyone.

  Regardless, she’d always resolved to enjoy what time she and Tyler had together, and to leave it at that. But, her emotions had betrayed her, the stony toughness that had always shielded her like armor had developed a weak spot. She loved Tyler Barron, and she had resolved to herself, somewhere in her subconscious at least, that once this was all over, they would be together, whatever it took. Forever.

  Except there wasn’t going to be any forever. The Confederation was losing the war, darkness was falling all around, and nothing save for a few desperate plans stood between all of them and the abyss. And, even if the Confederation somehow survived, she knew Tyler Barron too well. He’d come through more than his share of battles, but she had a bad feeling about this one.

  She lay next to him, enjoying the warmth of his body as she always did and, deep inside, she believed it would be the last time. She wanted to burst into tears, to scream and beg him to run away
with her, to find some planet where they could hide, from the Confederation, the Hegemony. From everything.

  But, she knew the man she loved could never grant such a request, not even to her. She had to let him fight his war, and die, if that was his fate. And, there was nothing she could do to stop it, nor even really to help him in any meaningful way.

  She pushed back hard on the despair, refusing to feel sad, to give up the joy of those last few hours together. She slid closer to him and pressed her face against his, and then she kissed him.

  If they only had hours left, she would make the best of them…enough to last a lifetime if it had to.

  * * *

  “So, we’re all agreed on the route. It has an extra transit, but it’s probably the least likely to be patrolled in any way by the enemy, and the entry point is the closest to the logistics fleet, or at least our best guess on where those ships are deployed.”

  Barron just nodded silently. They’d discussed the topic for hours, eventually shifting to throwing problems at it, trying to convince themselves some other course made more sense. But, the plan had survived every attempt to tear it down. It was a shitty option, dangerous as hell and with an unknown, but probably small, chance of success. But, it was better than all the others they had.

  “The question is, how much velocity do we want coming out of the transit point?” Clint Winters was standing across from Barron, staring down at the tabletop display. “If we’re right about where the logistics fleet is, we can save a lot of time and hit them quickly. And, despite what Dr. Witter says, I don’t believe that blasting the engines hard won’t make it easier to spot the ships, even with the stealth generators going at full power. Any thrust we can blast before the transit instead of after helps our odds, in my view.”

  Barron nodded. He’d been thinking exactly the same thing.

  “If we’re wrong, though, the ships will need that much more thrust to change their vectors.” Nguyen had been playing devil’s advocate during the entire meeting, putting his two top commanders in the position of defending the plan…or abandoning it.

  So far, both had stood steadfast.

  “We’re not wrong.” The words blurted out of Barron’s mouth, almost involuntarily. “Their mining ships need to be at the most resource-rich planets and moons, and the mobile refineries need to be close to the mining platforms. It’s just a guess that the freighters and the shipyards will be there, too, but I’m willing to take that bet. They’ll be trying to keep their repair and refit operation moving as quickly as possible, and having to haul things all over the system would just slow them down.”

  Winters nodded, signaling his agreement. Nguyen was silent for a moment, and then he said, “I agree. It is decided then. The fleet will set out in nine hours, and it will follow the agreed upon course.”

  The aged admiral just stood in place for a minute, perhaps even two. He looked at both admirals, and then he nodded.

  “I’ve given a lot of thought to which of you should lead the raiding force, and which should stay here at Craydon and help me command the fleet.”

  Barron looked right at the fleet commander, as did Winters. They both wanted to lead the raiding force, Barron knew, though remaining with the fleet was, by all normal standards, the senior posting.

  “Both of you are more than qualified for either position, but I have finally come to a decision.” He looked again at both Barron and Winters, and then he told them what he had decided.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Planet Megara, Olyus III

  Year of Renewal 263 (318 AC)

  The Invasion of Megara – The Clouds Gather

  “We will do no such thing, Senator.” Bryan Rogan spoke into his comm unit, struggling to remain civil, even respectful, as he did. Dealing directly with Senators had been nowhere in the job description when he’d graduated from the Academy so many years before, and he felt like there should be someone he could hand that duty off to, some senior commander more adept at such things.

  But, there was no one. Bryan Rogan was the top Confederation military commander on Megara, at least he had been…by orders of Admiral Nguyen, and even by Senate action confirming the appointment. Until the Senate had relieved him.

  The Senator was tense, and clearly scared to death by all that was happening. As well he should be. We can put up some resistance, certainly, but we’re pretty much screwed in the long run. At least unless the fleet manages to return soon.

  Which is why these cowards want to surrender now. At least there’s some negotiating value in not making the enemy go through an entire campaign to pacify the planet.

  Rogan didn’t give a shit what the Senator and his pack of lying colleagues wanted, not anymore.

  “As I said, Senator, my forces—all volunteer partisans, by the way, since you fine gentlemen relieved me of my official command and, I believe, ordered my arrest—will resist the enemy at every opportunity. Resisting the landings is crucial, and we will not stop, not under any conditions. And, Troyus City offers some level of cover for our forces, all the more, because it seems the enemy does not wish to destroy the capital.” He’d added that last bit in a burst of spite. He had no intention of remaining within the city limits long enough to dare the enemy to blast Troyus from orbit…nor to tempt the Kriegeri in, and fight a desperate, building to building battle that would leave the city as wrecked as a bombardment would.

  But, he had every intention of keeping his forces in place while the landings were still going on. The Hegemony forces were coming down in massive strength all around Troyus. Clearly, taking the capital quickly was high on their list of combat priorities. Rogan wasn’t ready to commit too much strength to hold the city. It was shockingly unproductive, at least in terms of anything militarily useful, and he suspected feeding its vast population would become a critical problem almost immediately. He didn’t trust the Senate either, not at all. Certainly not in terms of staying in the fight.

  The politician on the other end of the comm line was angry. Rogan was astonished at the arrogance of the man. The Senate had ordered him to stand down and let the enemy land, and then they’d fired him and issued an arrest warrant. And, now, this fool is incredulous because I won’t do what he wants me to do…

  “Senator, I do not have time for this foolishness. If you and your colleagues find your spines, and your loyalty to people and country, I will be happy to work with you. Until then, I have a world to defend, and a large force of patriots who have rallied to my cause.” Almost all the Marines had responded to Rogan’s call to arms, and a surprising percentage of the other defense units as well.

  Rogan cut the line, and then he walked back toward the small building he was using as a makeshift command post. The enemy had cut his satellite links, and that greatly restricted his communications. He’d expected it, though, and he’d deployed independent commanders to a dozen different sectors on Megara, each with total autonomy. He’d taken the capital area command himself, and he’d commandeered every civilian aircraft on the planet. They would enable him to maintain some kind of links to his various commanders, at least until the enemy landed enough force to gain air superiority. That wouldn’t be terribly difficult for the invaders. Megara’s defenses were astonishingly short on atmospheric combat craft.

  But, Rogan didn’t care. He’d fight the enemy with missiles, with artillery, with guns.

  With knives and sticks and rocks if need be.

  But, he’d be damned if he’d give up, if he’d let the Confederation down.

  Or, if he’d fail the man who’d been the prime mover in giving him his current command.

  No, Admiral Barron…I will not fail, not while I still draw breath.

  * * *

  “I trust that the capitulation of the Confederation Senate will quickly bring resistance on the surface to a speedy conclusion.” Chronos sat on his pedestal, looking out over the officers he’d summoned, both those present and the ones down on the surface and attending the meeting in
the form of holograms. The fleet commander wasn’t one for such pretentious nonsense, and normally, he’d have conducted the meeting in one of Hegemony’s Glory’s conference rooms instead of in his sanctum. There was a place, though for spectacle, and he’d decided it wouldn’t hurt to remind his people, Masters and Kriegeri alike, that no less a personage than Number Eight was watching them conduct the invasion.

  Chronos knew the war had already taken too long. Total pacification would require years, of course, even if he was able to compel mass surrenders instead of taking each planet one by one. But, once he managed to destroy the main fleets of the enemy, he could send most of the Grand Fleet back to the Hegemony homelands, now so dangerously stripped of their normal defenses. He wasn’t sure he considered the Others to be the dire threat they were made out to be—they hadn’t been seen since before he’d been born—but he didn’t want to take any chances.

  “Commander…the Confederation Senate has surrendered, and they have ordered their forces to stand down, as per the terms set forth, but…” Illius wasn’t normally one to mince words, but the megaron hesitated, something that didn’t escape Chronos’s notice.

  “Speak freely, old friend.” Chronos hadn’t intended to address anyone so informally, but Illius was one of his oldest friends, and a man he truly respected. He would likely have ignored apparent concern from most of those present, but if Illius was concerned, things were probably not going quite as he might have hoped.

  “There are a considerable number of enemy positions still active, firing on our landing forces. I also have multiple reports of ground units attacking landing zones, almost immediately after the vanguards have disembarked. One LZ has actually been overrun, and another is barely hanging on.”