by Ken Wolfson
“Recall and reload, tell Cross she’s gotten a good start,” Adrian said. He counted down the final minutes as Phantasm closed. They slammed into Knights’ screen, which frantically hit with everything they had. It wasn’t enough, Jotunns powered through by the dozen and launched torpedoes. “Helm, take defensive posture! PDG target priority bombers first!”
At the last moment, Grissom flipped the supercarrier to bring both PDG broadsides to bear. Space ignited with tracer rounds and detonating munitions. The bridge rumbled under recoil of twenty-thousand rounds per second. Hundreds of torpedoes splattered, and the Knights swiped a few more.
“Brace for impact!” Zoey cried into the intercom. The bridge rumbled faintly and a few alarms went off. Adrian exhaled heavily, and winced as his throat cried out for a drink.
"Barriers at 64%, several penetrations," Winchester said. “They’re pounding straight through our dorsal barriers regardless.”
"Can you compensate?" He checked on their passenger. The Lord Governor’s eyes were squeezed shut.
"I can try shunting power between barriers. Amelie's probably got notes on doing that properly."
"That’s SOP for her. She's still logged into that console. Check her notes on combat deployment only, then hop on the phone with engineering." And just like that, he was invading her privacy.
Knights came in for combat landings. One bomber bounced off the hangar doors and smeared itself over the barriers. The remaining were swarmed by deck crew and their tools. Reloading was a complex procedure drilled thousands of times. ‘Practice until you can’t fuck it up,’ Adrian’s first DI had said. Loaders jacked fresh atlatls and smaller ordinance into their hardpoints. Maintenance patched up what dings they could with plasma welder and collision plate while refuelers topped off their power cells. Then the haulers dragged the fighter-bomber back into the launch tubes, and the crew chief started the countdown.
"We’re locked and loaded,” Cross reported.
"100,000 kilometers, Righteous’ acceleration is increasing,” Grissom said.
"Major, next fire mission, dispatch the torpedoes along the vector of minimal distance. At contact with the Phantasm screen, dispatch them at vector 2, 1, 4, 2, delta. All fighter bombers plus gamma and delta will hit the vector of least resistance," Adrian said.
“Matching vectors, sir?” Winchester said.
“Yes Major, matching vectors,” Adrian said. “And drop a double-flight of EWAR drones with the fibos, scramble their signatures best you can.”
Phantasm squadron made combat landings. Now two wings of furies held screen outside. Tarly had tried the arrogant frontal assault and gotten a bloody nose. Her next move would involve that cunning he knew her for. So he had to put her CVS out of the fight first.
The Torpedoes launched and crept across TACNET. Phantasm’s screen shifted vectors to follow them. Seconds before contact, the torps pulled a near-90 and burned off into space. About half the screen sprinted after to cover them.
They were left flat-footed as Knights poured into the vector they’d just vacated. Adrian struck Righteous across her bow, then her stern. Her barriers crumpled to flickering ruins. Multiple missiles penetrated and landed hits up and down her armor, knocking out sensors and point defense batteries in puffs of shrapnel. The Knights didn’t let up. The interceptors stood their ground through the EWAR choked space in a whirling melee of tracers and light missiles. The Jotunns dove through the mess and strafed everywhere they could reach, heedless of the return fire from her point defense grid. Debris and thermal signatures cracked off her hull.
Adrian watched them brawl, counting down the seconds until Tarly would have her full wing back out.
At two minutes he ordered, “Knights, pull back now! Pull back and reload now!” The blue signatures bailed hard. Seconds later the red supercarrier launched her hungry fighters back into space.
“Righteous’ barriers are at 17% and holding, many penetrations. Judging by EM sensors a couple of her generators are damaged,” Winchester said. More exact measurements of the supercarrier’s injuries were blocked by her own EWAR drones
“Knights we’ve wounded the beast, next sortie we go for her jugular,” Cross reported as they raced back to reload. The sweat streaked deck crew did the same dance all over again, huffing engine fumes and space dust as they worked.
Tarly's next sortie came right on their heels. Adrian gritted his teeth, but Phantasm raced Vindication and broke off into individual wings. They skirted the edge of the point defense range, surrounding Vindication at 10,000 kilometers. Adrian felt the hammer rise above the anvil that was his ship.
"Recall the interceptor screen, Cage, and launch chaff. Point defense grid, prep for 360-degree firing!" he ordered, wild-eyed.
Vindication threw up a sphere of fire. 200 autocannon and gunship support were a hell of a barrage. That wasn't enough.
An earthquake rocked the bridge, shaking Adrian to his rotting bones. Console screens cracked, and anything not strapped down flew through the air. Something roared in the distance and black smoke began billowing through an air vent.
“Barriers are down, resonance collapse!” Winchester cried. Vindication barriers overloaded on every level. Electricity arced up and down her power grid, incinerating several dozen technicians and igniting electrical fires in half a dozen sectors. The shaking stopped, and the returning Knights dove into the fray. Another melee erupted all around them.
“Damage report now, navigation?” Adrian said.
"One drive is down; the rest are still green. The range is 50,000 klicks," Grissom said. The battle raged for several minutes until Phantasm wing broke off and burned back for their mothership. Knights took potshots at their drive trails.
The Lord Governor was slowly turning green, his eyes wide open and watching the supercarrier be hammered around him.
“Space group do not give chase, return and reload,” Adrian said.
"Barriers are down for the long count and the power grid took a lot of damage, but all other subsystems are online. We're baring hull, though; the next salvo will cripple us," Winchester said. Meanwhile, Righteous still had a hint of barriers, and plenty of armor. Plus her honeycombed structure. This was a close-matched crunchball game, where both sides were even in the first half, but the better side kept adding up incremental differences until they snowballed in the second, and turned into a decisive hammering. He needed a reversal, a wild gamble.
“We’re reloaded and, in the tubes,, launching on your mark,” Cross said.
He walked over to Grissom's station and took the man by the shoulder. "Helm, are you ready to do something dangerous?”
“Always ready to make the bridge bunnies piss themselves,” Grissom said.
“We need to get close. Cut our acceleration. Close range to 500 kilometers. Cage, prep the point defense grid for free fire, and clear our own interceptor screen from our vector," he said. He felt the oh shit drop across the bridge. He was sending them into zero range.
A grin with the intensity of a volcano erupted across Grissom's face. "Yes, sir. It will be my greatest pleasure." He yanked on the throttle. Gravity briefly rose past 5g, and Adrian’s heart was dragged into his throat. Range dropped to terrifyingly low numbers.
Righteous suddenly loomed overhead. Oh wow she was massive, even at 500 klicks she took up a quarter of the screen, a giant silver knife decorated by the drive trails of her shocked fighter wing. A Lieutenant zoomed in and Adrian could read her nameplate, serial number, and see the blue banner painted on over her rising sun emblem.
"Fighter control, engage fighter blitz.”
Knight squadron launched from their catapult tubes. Soon as they were clear they pivoted through high gs to face Righteous and let their atlatls fly. Point defense fire raced up to meet the torps, Adrian tracked the lines of tracers meeting blue flight trails. At that range, there was no hope for the defenders. The mighty supercarrier rocked, the mountain crumbled.
She hewed about on misfiring mane
uvering thrusters and drifted across Vindication's T, barely fifty kilometers from her prow. Debris trailed off her, smashed armor plates and internal furnishings and bodies tumbling forever around the dead star system. At least one cooling tower broke off entirely and narrowly missed Vindication.
Tarly launched her own Jotunns. Of course she wasn't giving in that easily, Adrian noted with admiration. Maybe half her wing emerged from their launch tubes, along with several internal explosions. They pivoted and returned their own salvo. Adrian grabbed the intercom. "All hands brace for impact!" he yelled from every display on the ship.
Suddenly he was sitting on the carpeted floor of his bedroom, nosed pressed to his window. Outside, Wade County’s gas harvesters returned with full tanks from the harvesting season. The red gas giant took up half the sky. He watched the lights as the skeletal ships came in to land, and wondered what the view was like from up there. He’d been born on a passenger liner, mother said. He wanted to go to space so bad his heart hurt thinking about the void. He didn’t notice his guests until two heavy hands grabbed his shoulders.
“Hey sprouts,” dad said. Adrian looked up, and saw his smiling face. His dad was rugged, with a stubbly beard and permanently darkened features from years working in Farrigan’s forges.
“Hey dad.”
“Dreaming about going to the stars?” He sat down beside, and lifted Adrian into his lap. His beard and chin tickled the top of Adrian’s head.
“I don’t just dream anymore dad,” Adrian said. He sat up so he nudged his dad’s chin.
“I know, you’ve come a long way, and I’m proud of you. We came here to escape Farrigan and you’ve done more than escape.” Adrian shook his head.
“I couldn’t have done it alone, I learned from you.” He made a tiny fist and punched it into his open palm. His father’s smile broke.
“I did what I could.”
“So do I, except I did a lot more than you.” One of the gas harvesters disintegrated. The Wendago poured from the stars and the sky turned black. A klaxon wailed into the new night. Adrian stared at his father until he melted away, and the railgun strikes burned their apartment down.
He stumbled back. As the screaming of the dying carrier faded, a new sound broke through: the woof-woof of the atmospheric plant fans knocked out of alignment. They'd suffocate on smoke and CO2.
"Damage control," he said over the din. Civilians screamed in agony somewhere beyond the bridge.
"Atmosphere plant...down to fifteen percent output," Winchester said. "We've got 12 hours of breathable atmo at the current rate. There are fires, multiple sectors, and half a dozen hull breaches across multiple sectors. What are your priorities, sir?"
"Keep everyone breathing then worry about the lesser damage," Adrian said.
"Yes, sir. Prioritizing life support and hull breaches," she said, and got to work. Adrian pulled himself to his feet and looked to Cage. The new XO was slumped on his console, his left arm snapped and dangling limp at his side.
"I still have missiles, sir," he groaned. He left it hanging at his side and typed with one hand. "They’re being reloaded, I can still finish her off," he said.
“Hold that,” Adrian said. He left Cage where he was, because he had no one left to replace him.
"Helm, effective status?" Adrian said. Righteous came about like a wounded cow and presented them with her dorsal armor plate. All her sleek, Duphain-built angular plates had been pummeled and cracked so they resembled Vindication's blocky jigsaw.
"I'm down to five drives, but the maneuvering thrusters are all online," Grissom said.
No running, then,”
"How about our fighters?"
"We’re at 80% launch tube operational, and the deck crews are shaken but alive," Pask reported.
"Kill her," Cage said. “Kill the bitch for once.”
"She can kill us back," Winchester reminded them. Indeed.
"Zoey, hail Righteous, ask them to parlay," he said. Cage gaped at his apparent sudden capitulation.
“Is that the best idea?” Johnathan said, and was ignored.
"Righteous has accepted our hail," Zoey said.
"Put her on the main screen," Adrian said. “Hello Commander.”
Tarly had been singed, her trench coat was mottle black atop the blue. Soot caked her face, which only exaggerated her burning glare. Her sash had been burnt through and hung off her shoulder. Despite that, she still stood tall as ever, a hand on her sword hilt.
“Hello Adrian.”
"If we continue combat, both our ships will die. That fulfills neither of our objectives. I wish to negotiate our fate one on one." The words hurt on their way out of his mouth.
"No deal. The fleet of the glorious Emoche Hulle pursues; they'll arrive in twelve hours," she said.
"I'm going to open fire in ten minutes. We'll die together. No justice for me and no nobility for you." Adrian said.
Cage grinned as he posed over the red fire button.
Tarly gritted her teeth.
"Speak your offer, Commander," she said.
"I want you to come aboard and discuss terms, Commander to Commander. We'll settle this without killing our crews, like Commanders should," Adrian said. He appealed to her sense of honor as a forsaken noble heir, on her quest for redemption.
"You come aboard here. I don't trust you enough to board your old hulk," she said. That was a dangerous suggestion, for she could have any surprise waiting aboard her ship. Anything to give her a chance to attack his carrier without repercussions. Then again, would he do differently?
"I'll be there. I'm bringing a few goodies. Anything happens to me and we all die," Adrian said.
"Amelie has the conn? Wait, that isn't Colonel Nessella in the XO’s chair. What happened to your prize noble partner, Adrian? Did she throw herself out the airlock to be with her Mother Volantis?" Tarly said.
“Flight control, the fibos will cut loose now," Adrian said. Tarly fell silent at the gauntlet that was thrown down.
"You win again, Adrian. Bring your heartbeat sensor or whatever onto my ship. I'll be waiting on the bridge to discuss," Tarly said. She ended the connection.
"Prep a dropship. I need a long-range comms uplink and a vitals monitor," Adrian said. He marched towards the portal.
"Sir, you don't need to do this. We'll dig our graves in here," Cage said. He broke all protocol and grabbed Adrian's shoulder. “This is madness. They just blew up a fucking planet, they don’t deserve mercy.”
"Huzzah!" the bridge declared.
“I must second his proposal, she is beyond reason,” Johnathan said. Adrian sighed, and shook his head.
"I know Tarly. She will not back down from what she wants. She wants this ship dead or a prize, but more than that she wants revenge on me. This is the only way to extract Vindication and all of you alive," he said.
Cage flexed his fingers over the big red fire button.
"Consider it conserving assets. We can't go home if we’re dead. Now prep a dropship, that’s an order."
"Yes, sir," Cage said, with apprehension.
#
Chapter Forty-Eight: Negotiations
A full platoon of blue-clad troopers met the dropship at the airlock, shotguns in hand. Adrian’s eight guards met them around the landing. A woman in a blue officer’s trenchcoat, wearing a Colonel’s three blue bars stepped forwards.
"Mr. Huxton.” She was tall with a peaked face, staring at Adrian down her jagged nose.
"Commander Adrian Huxton, and you are?" Adrian said.
"Colonel Mrekhov Bast, XO of Righteous and the great Lady Commander Tarly," she said. "I will escort you to the bridge, alone. The crew are disciplined, but there could be a few righteously violent enlisted."
“Like hell he’s going alone,” Alenkot said, and pulled up his balaclava.
Adrian looked about the hangar deck. The deck crew and pilots glowered at him amidst their holed machines, some straining forwards ready to pounce.
“Alenkot,
stay here, make sure they don’t touch the dropship. If they start jamming the radio, give the signal,” he said. He patted the dead man’s switch under his chest for emphasis.
“Yes sir,” Alenkot said without certainty.
It was a long walk to the bridge, escorted by the wailing alarms and crying wounded being carted past on stretcher. Crew in blue WUs lined the walls, staring over the troopers' armored shoulders to catch a peak at the legend. He stared back without emotion. He recognized a few faces, who swiftly averted their gaze like the cowards they were.
They reached the bridge in 20 minutes. The troopers hauled the bulkhead open manually, and Adrian entered. After the darkened corridors the computer lights blinded him. When he blinked the spots away he saw the bridge was packed with officers, all sitting save for a solitary figure.
Lady Commander Tarly Artreys stood stark before him in a fresh uniform and sash.
"My Lady," Adrian muttered.
"Commander." A teenage squire girl unfolded a card table and set up 2 chairs. A boy poured two cups of water. Both wore blue jumpsuits, purple capes, and did their best to avoid looking at Adrian as they worked. It was rare for two squires to be taken at once, but a particularly vetted or accomplished noble could acquire them. Adrian sat down, but ignored the water.
"So how's it feel to take part in killing a billion people?" The girl squire threw a glare over her shoulder.
"Feels like victory. Razing a planet was not the outcome anyone wanted, but we gave them every opportunity to surrender and they refused. That's war," she said. “You understand, you blew up a couple Wendago cities at Vykhor.”
"Those weren’t garden worlds, and they hadn’t come to raze your planet,” Adrian said.
“Victory is victory, it justifies our means,” Tarly said. Then to her crew; “clear the bridge.” They waited as everyone slunk out. Tarly winked reassuringly at her squires as they left.
“Since you won, you've got your treasury, then?" Adrian said. Tarly’s expression flared at his smirk, but she didn't reply.
"We've got a matter to settle." The jeweled rapier was gone from her hip. In its place was a simple and efficient broadsword, with an oddly angled black hilt. During their first duel, she'd used a similar weapon. Adrian knew all its strengths and weaknesses, and more importantly; how she fought with it.