by G. P. Hudson
“That’s right,” Reese said. “It wasn’t a dream. You really are here. This is really happening.”
“I already told you,” the man said. “You have the wrong person. I don’t know anything.”
“Come now. Why do you persist with these lies? We both know that is not true. There is no reason why you should endure any more suffering. Why do it?”
“You have the wrong person.”
Reese took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Do you think this resistance makes you a hero? A martyr? Are you really that foolish? Let me explain the cold reality of your situation. No one will know what happened to you. Ever. No one will know how much suffering you endured before breaking. And believe me, you will break. Everybody breaks. Do you know why? Because no matter how much you fight, you cannot defeat your primary enemy. Time. Sooner or later, you will lose the last of your strength. Your resolve will disappear. Your willpower will desert you. When that happens, you will gladly tell me everything I want to know. It is inevitable. What isn’t inevitable is how much you will have to endure before that happens. The choice is yours.”
She shook her head as his eyes filled with hatred. “Go to hell,” the man said and spit bloody saliva at her.
“Hell? Really? Where did you think you were?” A comm request interrupted Reese, drawing her attention away from the brutalized man. “Go ahead,” she said, answering the comm.
“I am sorry to disturb you, Premier, but we have a situation.”
“What sort of situation?”
“A squadron of UEDF capital ships have entered the system and are advancing on the planet Trianda.”
“I see. I’ll be right there. Do nothing until I arrive. Understood?”
“Yes, Premier.”
Reese disconnected the comm and stood. “It seems we will have to continue our conversation later,” she said to the prone prisoner. “Fear not, I’ll make sure you are not left alone. Sergeant Mathers will continue to entertain you. Isn’t that right, Sergeant?”
“Yes, Premier,” said the burly soldier. “I’ll keep things really interesting.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.” Reese exited her room of horrors, and made her way to the nearby lift, barely noticing the sounds and smells of the subterranean level. So, the UEDF have moved against us, she thought. Why now? What has changed?
Reese chewed on that question as she took the lift to Government House’s Operations Room. The Empire hadn’t moved against a Frontier Alliance system since its forces were repelled in the early days of the revolution. As far as Reese saw it, they had enough on their plate dealing with the core systems.
When she entered the Operations Room, she found her generals gathered around an enormous holodisplay showing the squadron’s advance on the planet Trianda. “Have we received any transmissions from the UEDF?” she said as she stepped up to the generals.
“None, Premier,” said General Ribault, her chief of staff. “We are preparing a response to the incursion.”
“Don’t respond,” Reese said.
“Premier?”
“Leave our ships where they are, General.”
“But that will leave Trianda vulnerable once their orbital defenses are destroyed,” Ribault protested.
“I understand, and it is regrettable, but I am willing to wager that there is a fleet waiting in metaspace for us to do just that. Why else would they appear with just a squadron?”
“It is not just a squadron, Premier. They are all capital ships, and they include the new Zeta battleships. It is a formidable force.”
“Perhaps, but we do have the means to drive them off, do we not?”
“Yes, Premier. We do.”
“There is your answer, General. They are trying to be clever. A weaker force would be an obvious ruse.”
General Ribault frowned but did not say anything.
“Hail them. I want to speak to whoever is in command.”
Chapter 16
Admiral Reynolds sat on the bridge of the Valiant, his fleet’s flagship. He had commanded the Valiant when he had been a captain and saw no reason to move to a new ship when he became an Admiral. The capital ship had served him well over the years. With a few modifications, it made a perfect command ship.
He had considered creating an Admiral’s bridge, so as not to interfere with the running of the ship itself but decided to keep things the way they were. Instead, the existing bridge was made larger to accommodate his responsibilities. The fleet had grown dramatically in size with his promotion and required his undivided attention. Nonetheless, he couldn’t bear to leave the ship’s bridge. He needed to stay in tune with the Valiant, even if Captain Travers had direct command of the warship.
Admiral Reynolds now commanded a fleet that rivaled any other in the Empire. His fleet also included the powerful Zeta battleships that were purchased for the Pallian campaign. Their upgraded plasma beams and advanced shields were unrivaled at the time and had wreaked havoc on Imperial warships during the hostilities between the Empire and Zeta. Imperial engineers worked tirelessly to figure out the Zeta secrets. Their toil was rewarded, and they eventually succeeded in reverse engineering the Zeta technology.
While all ships in the fleet had since been modernized with the advanced Zeta weaponry, the Zeta battleships remained unique and formidable. Larger than UEDF battleships, they possessed a devastating array of firepower and defenses. Their inclusion made his fleet particularly intimidating.
That reality was not lost on the rest of the Admiralty. While the Admirals commanded their own fleets, they resented that a commoner like Reynolds now wielded so much power. With his recent successes overshadowing any of their personal achievements, it was no wonder that they wanted to be rid of him.
Even so, they would have to do a lot better than a meager hit squad if they wanted him dead. Reynolds still believed they were responsible for the attempt on his life, and the Emperor’s arguments to the contrary had not changed his mind.
They all needed to watch their backs, because regardless of what the Emperor might want, Reynolds was far from finished with the nobility.
Nonetheless, his thirst for vengeance would have to wait, as he had more pressing concerns. His priority was the Avar system. Once he successfully pacified the Avars, he could return to Earth triumphant. No one would dare challenge him then, and he could deal with his enemies at his leisure.
Settling into his command chair, Reynolds pulled up a display of the hundreds of ships that comprised his fleet. They included battleships, carriers, battle cruisers, destroyers, frigates, gunboats, supply ships, and a couple of hospital ships. He felt confident that he could take any system in the galaxy with that much firepower. Of course, taking a star system was one thing, and holding it another.
Still, the Empire had the means to bring the Frontier Alliance to its knees. What it didn’t have was the right people in charge. The blame for that fell squarely on the nobility. These so-called leaders were more concerned with safeguarding their wealth than promoting the interests of the Empire. The problem was that the other worlds knew it, and the moment they sensed weakness, they rebelled.
Reynolds didn’t serve these men. He served the Empire. He believed it could again return to an age of glory. One day, the Empire would overcome these turbulent times and restore prosperity to its population. Until that day, he would wash away its sins with blood.
The fleet had taken position near the Sol system’s jump gate. All captains had reported that they were ready, and now awaited his command. It was time for action. “Captain Travers, order the fleet to enter the jump gate and begin the journey to the Avar system.”
“Yes, Sir,” Travers said. “Relaying orders.”
The great UEDF armada got underway and began crossing through the Sol system’s jump gate into the interstellar highway known as metaspace. The Valiant and the other capital ships large enough to do so created their own jump points, bypassing the jump gate entirely. Once all warships exited the Sol system, t
he fleet began the journey to the Avar system.
Metaspace facilitated travel between star systems, and drastically reduced the time required to bridge the enormous distances. For Reynolds, entering metaspace was something of a pilgrimage. He had cut his teeth here as a young officer with his first command.
Looking back on it he had to laugh. The only reason he had been assigned to practically live in metaspace, hunting pirates, was because he was a commoner. The nobility would never have sent one of their own to what many considered a horrid environment. That was the first of many miscalculations on their part.
Reynolds may have been a commoner, but he wasn’t soft, and he adapted. He relished the opportunity to prove himself and grew to love the permanent firestorm that was metaspace. He learned to think out of the box and take chances. The experience molded him into who he was today. It forged the iron will that he was now known for.
Some speculated that metaspace was a celestial link to other universes. That it was the fabric stitching together the theoretical multiverse. Reynolds saw no evidence to support such speculations and had no time for wild theories.
For most, traveling through metaspace was a necessary evil. It allowed the Empire to expand and provided newfound opportunities for untold billions of people. Star systems were colonized, and trade between them grew. For the Empire, it established new sources of tax revenue, swelling its coffers and ushering in the most prolonged golden age in humanity’s history.
Of course, all that was behind them now. The colonies resented paying taxes to distant Earth. Corruption and blatant tax evasion grew to staggering proportions throughout the Empire. Increasingly aggressive attempts to collect unpaid taxes were resented, prompting protests and outright rebellion.
The nobility used harsh measures to collect taxes and quell unrest. It quashed the uprisings for a while, but also fueled the independence movement on many worlds. This movement served the interests of the corrupt leaders, who saw an opportunity to gain more wealth and power.
Reynolds was no friend of the nobility, but neither was he a friend of the corrupt colonial leaders. He believed in a robust and unified Empire. He also felt that the nobility was a growing cancer, eating away at the Empire from the inside out.
The Empire needed a revolution, just not the one the colonies had in mind. It needed to rid itself of corruption. That included the nobility and any crooked colonial leaders. Would that ever happen? He believed it would. One day. But he didn’t know if it would be in his lifetime.
The journey to the Avar system took much longer than most. The Avars were on the fringes of the Empire, which allowed them to escape unscathed during the early days of fighting between the Empire and the Frontier Alliance. If they thought they would stay that way, they were sorely mistaken. Reynolds was coming for them, and there was nothing they could do to save themselves.
Days later, they finally arrived at their destination. Hundreds of UEDF warships floated in the never-ending turbulence of metaspace, just outside the Avar system. For the Avars, time had run out.
“Capital ships are in position, Sir,” said Captain Travers.
“Thank you, Captain. Order all capital ships to open jump points and begin system assault.”
“Yes, Sir. Opening jump points.”
The fabric of metaspace was torn in multiple places, revealing the serene blackness of regular space on the other side. Without hesitation, each capital ship crossed through into the Avar system, while the remaining fleet waited in metaspace.
They entered the system near a smaller, less populated planet named Trianda and immediately launched hundreds of missiles at its orbital defenses. When the munitions came into range, the weapon systems protecting the planet jumped into action, lancing out at the oncoming missile horde and deploying countermeasures.
Reynolds smiled to himself as he studied one of his displays. As he had anticipated, defensive forces were positioned near the jump gate, and around the home planet. That left little Trianda vulnerable.
He intended to draw the Avar military away from the jump gate. Surely, they would race to aid one of their planets. When they did, the remainder of his fleet would come through the jump gate unopposed. While his fleet was strong enough to take the gate by force, it would mean the loss of ships. Ships he could use in conquering the rest of the system.
“All capital ships launch another missile volley, and move into plasma weapon range,” ordered Reynolds.
With the orbital defenses dealing with the missile onslaught, the UEDF capital ships steadily advanced toward the planet. The Trianda defenses retaliated by firing clusters of their own missiles at the UEDF ships. Plasma beams picked off many of the threats before they came close enough to do any damage.
Countermeasures were released, mimicking each ship’s signature and drew many missiles away from their targets.
Point defense systems came online on each ship to deal with the rest. Explosive halos formed around each ship, instantly detonating any rocket that made it that far. Behind that were the ship’s shields, which could handle the odd stray missile that made it through. None did.
Trianda’s orbital defense system was surprisingly robust for such a small planet. It was a potent obstacle to overcome. But it seemed trivial compared to the fortress protecting the homeworld.
As the UEDF came into range, they unleashed their modified plasma weapons. The orbital defenses returned fire. Plasma bolts and projectiles crashed into the UEDF shields. The new shields were based on the upgraded Zeta design, however, and easily absorbed the salvo.
The planet’s defensive systems didn’t benefit from the same technology, and the UEDF’s powerful plasma beams tore through their weaker shields. They found the armor underneath and burned through it, into the weapon systems’ guts. The plasma bolts turned the systems’ insides into a molten mess, and one by one the orbital weapon systems ceased firing.
Reynolds reoriented one of his displays into a split screen format. On the left side, he monitored the jump gate, on the right the homeworld. He watched the ships stationed there with growing anticipation, waiting for them to act. None did. The held their position, seemingly unmoved by Trianda’s plight.
Why aren’t they coming? he thought. His entire plan rested on the Avar fleet coming to the little planet’s rescue. Are they prepared to sacrifice this planet? Do they think I will hold back?
“Sir, the Avar leader is demanding to speak with you,” Travers said.
“Demanding? Is that right? Tell her I’m busy,” Reynolds said. He had heard about this system’s leader. She sounded like someone who was used to getting her way. If she hoped to get anywhere with him, an attitude adjustment would be in order.
The capital ships continued to pound the planet’s defenses until there was nothing left but orbital debris. Yet still, the Avar warships refused to move. Very well, thought Reynolds. Time to show my hand. “Captain Reynolds, advise all ships to move into orbit around the planet, and to prepare for orbital bombardment.”
Chapter 17
“Admiral, the Avar leader is asking to speak with you again,” Captain Travers said.
“Maybe her attitude has improved,” Reynolds said. “Patch her through to my comm.”
A beautiful older woman appeared on Reynolds’s comm. She had blond hair and captivating, yet steely blue eyes. She appraised him for a moment, her gaze piercing. Reynolds found himself instantly attracted to the older stateswoman and wished they had met under different circumstances.
“The infamous Admiral Reynolds,” said the woman. “I should have known. I am Premier Margaret Reese, leader of this system.
The comment surprised him. “You know who I am, Madam Premier?”
Reese laughed without mirth. “Who hasn’t heard of the Butcher of Allimania? Yes, Admiral, I know who you are.”
“I see. Well then, seeing as you know what I am capable of, I assume you are contacting me to surrender.”
“Just like that? You expect me to surr
ender without a fight?”
“If you do, I won’t bomb your cities.”
“I suppose I am expected to cower in fear now. Is that what you are looking for?”
Reynolds saw no fear in Reese’s face. She remained calm and unyielding. She displayed none of the bluster and false bravado of the other leaders he had encountered. She was the real deal. His attraction grew. “I expect you to do what is best for your people, Madam Premier.” He heard his voice soften ever so slightly. Did she notice?
“And you think that means surrender?” Reese said, holding his gaze.
“What else? I can take this system by force if I must. I can decimate your cities and send your economy back a hundred years. Why go through that?”
“My people want their freedom. That’s why.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Your people were free under Imperial rule. Let’s not confuse the issue. This is not about freedom, it’s about money. You resented paying taxes to Earth and were encouraged by the success other systems had when they rebelled. That is why you joined the Frontier Alliance. So far, it has worked well for you. Congratulations. Unfortunately, your time is up, and you have a decision to make. Surrender now or face the consequences.”
“And if I surrender, what terms will you offer me?”
Now it was Reynolds’s turn to laugh. “Terms? There are no terms, Madam Premier. You will surrender unconditionally, or face devastation.”
“Really, Admiral, I expected more from a powerful man like you. Do you really think you can back me into a corner like that, and expect me to do anything other than fight?”
Reynolds felt his resolve weaken slightly as he stood mesmerized by this stunning woman.
“Now I’m sure you have more ships waiting in metaspace,” Reese continued. “And I’m sure your fleet can defeat us, but that victory will come at a cost. You know that, or you wouldn’t have tried this bit of trickery to lure our ships away from the jump gate.”