by Andy Hoare
He watched on the flickering holograph as the Chasmatan fleet attempted, in vain, to knot itself into something resembling order. If only he had been travelling at a speed at which he could have unleashed a broadside. As much as he would have savoured the opportunity to damage Luneberg’s flagship, that had not been the objective of his manoeuvre. Instead, he had hoped only to buy time for his son.
The enemy fleet did not redeploy in the manner he had expected it to. He had been certain it would be forced to spend some considerable time bringing its vessels around and regaining its previous formation, before powering after him towards the Rosetta; but that was not what they appeared to be doing.
Lucian watched intently as the escorts closed in once more on the two cruisers. Although ragged and ungraceful, the fleet soon regained some semblance of order, continuing on its previous course.
Lucian reached forwards and turned a dial on the plinth of the holograph, the static-filled, grainy projection above it blurring, before regaining focus, having zoomed out several dozen kilometres.
Lucian saw immediately the course on which the Chasmatan fleet was engaged. Luneberg was taking his ships against the alien vessels, which had formed up on one another and were likewise homing in on the other ships.
He could scarcely believe his luck. His enemies were going to pummel each other to the warp while he made good his escape!
The two fleets closed on one another with stately elegance, and Lucian felt tempted to pour himself a drink as Luneberg’s force manoeuvred for what the Imperial Commander obviously intended to be a fearsome exchange of fire. Would the aliens really allow themselves to be drawn into such a position for a third time? Amazingly, it appeared to Lucian that the xenos vessels were indeed heading for another pasting, although he noted that this time they clustered together for mutual defence. He ran the coming action through his mind, estimating that the two cruisers of Luneberg’s fleet would have the better of a broadside, if they could pull one off, although they would pay a high price as the aliens converged their fire in retaliation.
That, however, would have to wait, Lucian realised, as the servitor at the communications station had evidently been successful in opening a channel to Korvane.
‘…ahead Oceanid,’ Korvane’s voice sounded amidst a riot of static laden interference. ‘This is Korvane.’
‘Korvane?’ replied Lucian, filled with a sudden relief at the sound of his son’s voice. ‘Korvane, what’s your situation?’
‘Father,’ Korvane’s voice came back, made distorted and tinny by interference on the channel. ‘I am inbound to the Rosetta, e.t.a. ten minutes.’
‘Good to hear Korvane,’ replied Lucian, realising that his delaying attack against the aliens had indeed bought his son the time to make a dash for the Rosetta aboard his shuttle. ‘I take it you evaded the invasion forces?’
‘Invasion forces?’ Korvane’s reply came back. ‘Father, I don’t think you–’
‘That’ll have to wait, Korvane,’ cut in Lucian. ‘For now we need to concentrate on not getting involved, in finding Brielle and getting clear of this–’
‘No, Father,’ cut in Korvane, Lucian realising instantly that something must be severely amiss for his son to speak in such a manner. ‘We are involved.’
Despite the howling feedback and static flooding the communications channel, Lucian picked up on his son’s tone instantly, and he didn’t like it one bit. ‘Explain,’ he said.
There was a moment’s delay as only angry static answered Lucian, and then Korvane’s voice came back. ‘We are involved. The Rosetta arrived unexpectedly early at Arris Epsilon, Father, and in your absence I made contact with Imperial Commander Zachary Droon.’
‘And?’
‘And, I told him of Luneberg’s treacherous actions at the talks, and Droon told me of the ongoing conflict between the two worlds.’
‘It’s just a bush war, Korvane, nothing we need get involved with.’
‘Yes, Father, but he asked me for help, and he offered to pay quite a considerable–’
‘You’ve signed us over to some border princeling?’ Lucian felt his gorge rise, and fought to keep his temper in check despite the fact that he was quite sure he knew what his son’s answer would be.
‘I have pledged Droon our aid in ending the war against Luneberg.’
Lucian stood, anger flaring within him. ‘You may not have noticed, Korvane, but it appears that Luneberg has the same idea.’ Why the hell couldn’t Korvane have kept out of it? he thought, trying, despite himself, not to condemn his son for his actions.
‘Aye, Father, so I see, but I have negotiated a highly favourable deal, one that will recoup the losses incurred thus far. With the aid of the tau we will–’
‘The aliens, I take it?’ Lucian interrupted his son.
‘Yes, the aliens. I had no choice, but the deal may recoup our losses.’
Lucian knew Korvane referred to the collapsed deal with Luneberg, as if that was the fault of anyone other than the mad Imperial Commander. He sighed, knowing that his son was, if nothing else, an expert in such matters, and would have the deal sewn up so tight that he would have little choice other than to honour it. Well, he thought, looking to the holograph where he saw the two fleets about to clash, looks like we’re sticking around for the fight.
‘Right then,’ announced Lucian, decided upon his course. ‘Listen, Korvane, I am the Arcadius; not you, not Brielle, and not some squabbling petty noble. I say how our fortunes are made or lost. I say how we live or how we die. Do I make myself clear?’
Lucian listened for Korvane’s response, which came after a short delay. ‘Father, I understand, but I had no–’
‘You will do as I say or I will denounce your claim!’ Lucian bellowed, determined now more than ever to rein in his son’s good intentions. Good intentions never got anyone anywhere, not in the galaxy in which he lived.
‘Now listen,’ Lucian said, feeling a measure of calm returning now that he had put Korvane in his place. ‘This is how we’re going to get the hell out of this mess you’ve negotiated us all into.’
The Fairlight burst out of the Immaterium, Brielle immediately scanning the surrounding space for signs of her father or her stepbrother. She found them straight away, as she had expected to do, but she was somewhat shocked to see two entire fleets of vessels, apparently closing in on one another, as well.
‘What the hell has he got us into now?’ she asked herself, deciding immediately that something must have gone terribly wrong. She activated the data-slates surrounding her command throne, a dozen and more screens lowering from the shadows above. The screens sputtered to life, the Fairlight’s cogitator banks pumping reams upon reams of data across them. With practiced ease, she separated out the superfluous information, homing in on that which she needed.
The Oceanid and the Rosetta, her father’s vessel closing fast on her stepbrother’s, which appeared at anchor. One hundred and ten kilometres from their position, two fleets. One human, Luneberg’s, she knew, and one not. She smiled.
Reaching up to adjust the data-slates’ settings, Brielle homed in on the other two rogue trader vessels, picking up a signal from–
‘Brielle?’ The communication grilles set in the back of her command throne burst into life, causing her to jump in shock. She spat a spacer’s curse, before answering sweetly.
‘Father, this is Brielle, what’s happening? Are you alright?’
‘Yes, Brielle, now listen, as I won’t repeat myself.’ He wasted no time in pleasantries, she thought, typical of him to get straight to the point. ‘Rosetta and Fairlight are to converge on my position and follow my orders to the letter. You will not deviate from the course I give you, and you will not fire upon any targets until I order you to do so. Do I make myself completely clear?’
For a moment, Brielle was speechless. What the hell was his proble
m? ‘Father,’ she replied. ‘I am perfectly–’
‘Do I make myself completely clear?’ her father repeated, his tone angry and brooking no argument.
‘Completely,’ she said, slamming her fist down on the console and closing the channel. How the hell could he speak to her like that? Who the hell did he think she was? Had Korvane poisoned him against her to such an extent that this was how it would be from here on out?
Well, she thought, her stepbrother had had his day. She’d already seen to that.
Chapter Thirteen
Lucian stood in the centre of his bridge, studying the flickering image projected into the air by the holograph. The green globe was incomplete, almost half of the space invisible to him thanks to a damaged near-space augur array. Three groups of icons dominated the remainder, the one representing the Oceanid sitting dead centre, the movements of the others relayed relative to her position.
Some one hundred kilometres to the Oceanid’s fore, two of the groups of icons danced, reams of data scrolling next to each. The larger of the groups represented the alien vessels, and there were five of these. Lucian noted, with a professional’s appreciation, the formation that the alien ships had assumed, their weapons’ fields of fire overlapping in such a manner as to make approach from any angle other than directly to stern all but suicidal.
In contrast to the aliens’ deployment, the other group displayed only disarray. Lucian sneered as he regarded its arrangement, one cruiser and a dozen or so smaller escorts clustered around the vessel that he knew to be Imperial Commander Culpepper Luneberg’s flagship. It was typical of the man’s flawed character that he should deny his captains the benefit of a mutually supportive fire plan, instead concentrating solely on his own protection. He sought to destroy his enemy, the forces of the Imperial Commander Zachary Droon, but was evidently determined to minimise any risk to his own, personal safety. Well, thought Lucian, space battles were no respecters of safety, personal or otherwise.
The alien fleet and that of Imperial Commander Luneberg were currently engaged in the opening moves of what Lucian was quite sure would prove to be the last battle for one of them. Luneberg’s forces had sought to engage their foe, but had been evaded now on several passes. The aliens would fight, of that Lucian was certain, but they had been hurt by his own broadsides, and would do so only on their own terms. The ballet continued: the humans unable to close on their target, and the aliens thus far unwilling to be closed upon.
The last group of icons visible in the holograph’s globe of light represented his own, small flotilla. The Oceanid was a capable heavy cruiser, despite the damage she had suffered in recent engagements. Ten kilometres to the Oceanid’s port side lay the Rosetta, the cruiser captained by Lucian’s son, Korvane, who, only minutes before, had returned by shuttle from the surface of the world below. Inbound on their position, a mere fifteen kilometres distant, was the third and last of Lucian’s fleet, the cruiser, Fairlight, captained by his daughter, Brielle.
Lucian folded his arms as he considered his position, prowling around the holograph, seeking to examine the situation, literally, from every possible angle. He had been pitched into this battle by the actions of his son, who had negotiated an alliance with Imperial Commander Zachary Droon. The only problem was, he had destroyed one of the aliens’ vessels and crippled another before his son had informed him that these aliens were, by dint of the agreement brokered by his son, allies. The life of a rogue trader was never a simple one.
‘Fairlight,’ Lucian said, the servitor at the Oceanid’s communications station patching him through to the bridge of his daughter’s ship.
‘Go ahead, Father,’ came the response. Lucian noted instantly that his daughter sounded even more uptight than normal. He had no time to worry about her state of mind however.
‘Rosetta.’ The servitor opened the channel to the bridge of Korvane’s ship.
Lucian reached down to the console at the base of the holograph and depressed a control stud. ‘I am transmitting the approach plan to you both. You will note your positions within that plan. Do you receive and understand?’
He waited, affording his son and his daughter the time to relay the headings to their respective helmsmen. A minute later, his son was the first to respond.
‘Understood, Father.’ Lucian was pleased to note that his son offered no further response. Perhaps he was suitably chastised following their earlier confrontation on the subject of Korvane’s negotiating the alliance with Droon in his father’s absence.
He waited a minute more, before asking, ‘Brielle? Are you clear as to your role?’
‘I am clear, Father,’ came the response, after a delay that Lucian knew was calculated to communicate Brielle’s displeasure.
Just like her mother, he thought, allowing himself a wry grin at his daughter’s wilful behaviour.
‘Well enough,’ he said. ‘You both have your orders. Good hunting, and good luck.’
‘Good hunting,’ Korvane echoed, followed a moment later by his stepsister. Lucian took his seat at the command throne, taking a deep breath before issuing his order, ‘Helm, time to get under way.’
‘Aye, sir,’ responded Helmsman Raldi, saluting his captain before turning and leaning his weight to the mighty wheel.
Lucian looked to the holograph, seeing that his son’s vessel was manoeuvring into her allotted position. A couple of minutes later and the Rosetta was in position. He watched the Fairlight, his studied eye seeing instantly, and without recourse to his instruments that his daughter’s ship was out of station by at least a kilometre.
He sighed. ‘Brielle,’ he said, the communications servitor patching him through the ship-to-ship array instantaneously.
‘Go ahead,’ the clipped reply came back.
‘Brielle, you’re out of position. Close up on the Rosetta, now.’
A delay was followed by, ‘Yes, Father, I will. I’m simply picking up some flare. I can ride it out, but I don’t want to risk the compensators, not now.’
Lucian sighed for a second time. He had never been able to tell for sure whether his daughter was simply being evasive or whether she was outright lying. Another characteristic she had inherited from her mother and her people. It certainly wasn’t passed down from his own side of the family.
‘Well enough, Brielle. Just make sure you’ve shaken it by two point five. Understood?’
‘Understood, Father,’ the reply came back.
He smiled to himself. Brielle never could do things the simple way.
‘Ship to fleet,’ Lucian called to the communications servitor. It nodded an instant later to indicate that he was speaking to both ships. ‘Korvane, Brielle. We begin our approach run now.’ He nodded to the helmsman, who hauled on the huge, floor-mounted lever, feeding power to the main drives. The deck vibrated as engines roared into life, although thankfully they showed no sign of trouble from the misbehaving drive unit.
‘We find ourselves on the same side as these aliens, the tau as Korvane calls them. Now,’ Lucian continued speaking so as to forestall his son’s inevitable interjection, ‘this could prove troublesome, given that not a couple of hours ago I personally sent several thousand of them to the depths of the seven hells. Despite that, I did so for entirely plausible reasons, but I feel that the remaining vessels may not share our newfound friendship. Therefore, if we are to honour the obligations entered into on our behalf, we are forced to take a somewhat unusual approach. This then, is my plan. We must draw the tau onto the guns of Luneberg’s fleet.’
He sat back, knowing what was coming next. It came.
‘Father!’ Korvane’s voice came back, Lucian’s son’s anger obvious, even over the static-filled and distorted ship-to-ship channel. ‘Father, I negotiated our agreement in good faith, and even though you disapprove, we are honour bound to abide by it. The tau might be aliens, but they are Droon’s allies, and we c
annot be responsible for their demise.’
Lucian grinned. By the Emperor, he really had spawned a couple of humourless whelps.
‘Korvane, I am not asking you to do so. Just follow your orders and shut the hell up,’ he said, slamming his palm down and cutting the channel. He chuckled, imagining his son’s spluttering indignation at his words. He would have some explaining to do, later.
That would have to wait, however, as the three rogue trader vessels were closing on their target, a point of space just over three hundred kilometres ahead of Luneberg’s fleet.
‘Hard to starboard, if you would, Mister Raldi,’ Lucian ordered, his helmsman, who hauled on the wheel in response, bringing the Oceanid around on a new heading perpendicular to the Chasmatan vessels. ‘Trim mains to twenty.’
He sat back and studied the holograph, for Luneberg’s fleet was too far distant to see with the naked eye. He forced his breathing to a slow rate, not prepared to admit even to himself that he might be anything other than entirely confident that Luneberg would take the bait. One, two, three, he counted the minutes, looking for any sign of a change in course.
He saw it. Luneberg’s flagship began a long slow turn, intended, Lucian saw instantly, to intersect his current position, which it would do in something approaching ten minutes. He smiled. Imperial Commanders should restrict themselves to commanding Imperial worlds, he thought, for they clearly hadn’t got the faintest clue how to command a fleet.
‘Thirty to port, Mister Raldi,’ ordered Lucian, his helmsman bringing the Oceanid around upon the new course. ‘Open them up.’
The Oceanid thundered forwards, Lucian seeing from the holograph that the Rosetta and the Fairlight were maintaining formation, although his daughter’s vessel was still out of position, if not excessively. He let it pass.
He looked to the range counter on the holograph, seeing that it was rapidly counting down to the point of, what he knew was no return. In only a few minutes, the tau fleet would be within visual range.