Finest Hour (The Exiled Fleet Book 3)

by Richard Fox

  Chadda snarled, not at Gage, but at his implication.

  “I have a plan that can end this fight, maybe not with an all-out victory, but it’ll give the Daegon enough of a bloody nose that it’ll slow their advance down,” Gage said.

  “Tell me,” Chadda said.

  Gage reached into the holo and tapped in a code. The same graphics he’d sent McGowan popped up.

  Chadda’s head bobbed from side to side.

  “You’re insane,” he said.

  “Hammer and anvil, Admiral. Works even better when the target doesn’t know about the hammer,” Gage said.

  “You want me to pull my forces from over Mahali? There are a quarter million people in that city. They’ll be defenseless,” Chadda said.

  “You must hold Theni, Admiral,” Gage said. “The Amritsar and your navy are the anvil. My ships are the hammer. This requires both parts to work.”

  “And a bit gravity well maneuvering that I would never attempt,” Chadda said. “You commit to the attack and there will be no way for you to abort. Not without tearing your ships apart trying to fight your momentum.”

  Gage stood up straight and clasped his hands behind his back.

  “Albion stands ready.”

  Chadda plucked at his beard.

  “I’ll take a chance at victory over surrender,” Chadda said. “The Reich?”

  Gage shook his head.

  “I can’t sell a promise to the governor. Once you enter Harihara’s gravity well, then it will be easier to convince him.”

  “We do that—and your fleet doesn’t do their part—the Daegon will tear us apart,” Gage said.

  “And we pull our forces back over Theni without you to do your part, and I’ll have sacrificed most of my planet’s population for nothing. Albion and Indus have trusted each other for longer than either of us have been alive, it would be a shame to throw that all away now,” Chadda said. “It’s not like you’re asking me to accept a Reichsman’s word.”

  Gage chuckled.

  “We’ll begin our maneuver in…nine minutes,” Gage said.

  “Good.” Chadda stroked his chin. “And it seems I have a number of communication security issues to deal with. Shame if I lost contact with the governor’s bunker if he orders me to surrender after you commit to the attack…”

  “Tragic,” Gage said. “An issue no doubt caused by my communications techs. We’ll accept full responsibility.”

  Chadda winked at Gage and the channel cut out.

  McGowan chuckled, which grew into a full-bellied laugh moments later.

  “Something amusing, Captain?” Gage asked.

  “My apologies, sir.” McGowan wiped a tear from his eye. “I just tried to imagine Lady Christina making the same pitch to the Indus.”

  “Can your crews work under acceleration?” Gage asked.

  “For the chance to kill more Daegon? They’ll do anything,” McGowan said. “You’ve my full support, Commodore.”

  “Then let’s show the Daegon what Albion can do when it’s time for a stand-up fight.” Gage cut the channel and looked at Price.

  “Fleet wide address, sire?” she asked.

  Gage nodded and waited as icons for every ship pinged green in his holo tank. He flicked a tab and another channel opened, direct to the Castle Itter.

  Price waved at him and pointed at the anomaly in the holo. Gage waved her down.

  “Albion,” Gage said, and his words went to every sailor and speaker in the fleet. “It is time for us to teach the Daegon a lesson. Show them that the free nations of humanity will not bow to them, that they may have hurt us with a surprise attack, but when they face us toe to toe, they will pay dearly. This is where we fight back. This is where we make them pay. Our fleet will perform a low gravity well sling shot around the moon Harihara and then…then we will hit the Daegon harder than they can imagine. We must commit to this attack and trust in our allies. We falter and we will fail, and to fail now will mean the loss of everything. The Orion will be at the tip of the spear. Albion’s light burns. Gage out.”

  ****

  Aboard the Castle Itter, Klaven sat on a couch in his wardroom, watching a holo over his coffee table as the Albion fleet accelerated toward New Madras’ innermost moon.

  Diaz poured coffee from a tall metal kettle into a ceramic mug. Klaven didn’t seem to notice, his attention full on the Albion fleet. His Genevan guard stood sentry at the door.

  “It only tastes good while it’s hot,” Diaz said.

  “They’re insane.” Klaven leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “If their vector is off by even two degrees when they hit atmo, they’ll either bounce off or scatter out of formation or nose dive into New Madras. Spectacular failure or spectacular success…and that’s if the Daegon don’t…know what can they do…”

  “Valuable information to bring back to the Kaiserina,” Diaz said. “Perhaps if the Daegon were warned…it might curry some additional favor down the line with them.”

  Klaven sat back, his face firm. He picked up a small tablet and touched a button. The holo changed to Albion, a recording captured by Tolan’s ship just before it escaped from the system. Klaven swiped the screen and the view changed to infrared, and bright red patches appeared along the coasts and rivers.

  “You see all those hot spots? You know what those are?” Klaven asked.

  “Population centers.” Diaz set the kettle on the table. “Saturation from orbit is a viable threat and tactic to a planet that refuses to surrender once they’ve lost control of their skies. It’s been done to Reich worlds, and we’ve done it to places that did not have the decent sense to know when the battle is lost.”

  “You think the Daegon ever offered Albion the chance?” Klaven asked.

  “It’s neither our concern nor our business.” Diaz scratched a cheek, activating the recording device within his monocle.

  Klaven touched his tablet again and the holo reformed into the Daegon video from Malout. Klaven sat stone faced as line after line of civilians were put up against the wall of the gudwara temple and shot.

  “We fight without mercy to end wars quickly,” Klaven said. “This is a mercy in and of itself. But what the Daegon are doing…should we be party to this?”

  “That is for the Kaiserina to decide.”

  “My father told me stories of the Francia occupation.” Klaven sniffed at his coffee, then pushed it away. “Of how he took part in the divestment of Montelblanc. You know what happened there?”

  “Kaiser Washington 28th had placed that information under imperial quarantine,” Diaz said.

  “Three million—at least—civilians dead.” Klaven stood and walked behind his couch. “Officially, they died when a dam damaged by the fighting failed and wiped out the city. But you know what my father knew? He knew that the city had been sacked by the 22nd Legion. He walked those streets with Crown Prince Esparza before he became the twenty-ninth Kaiser. Want me to tell you what he saw?”

  Diaz didn’t answer.

  “It was enough that he needed extensive psychological treatment for many years. Even with the neuro conditioning, he’d have nightmares. Ones so bad he’d come into my room with his pistol in hand and stand over me. Know what he said when he did that? He had to protect me from the beasts. Too many times, I woke to see my father there, eyes locked on the door, terrified of the ghosts of the past. Reich ghosts.”

  “There was an inquest,” Diaz said. “Those responsible were held accountable.”

  “The hangings weren’t public,” Klaven said. “And that the Kaiser at the time of the massacre…suffered a fortuitous accident was just a coincidence, yes?”

  Klaven turned to his Genevan.

  “What say you, Rapoto? Curious that a Kaiser would die of anything but natural causes with Genevans around?” Klaven asked.

  “Our contract…was in renegotiation,” Rapoto said. “The Kaiser’s chief finance minister missed a series of payments and our protection detail was withdrawn until such time a
s the books were corrected. While we were away…the Kaiser suffered his accident.”

  “Imagine that.” Klaven raised his hands.

  “What are you getting at, Unter-Duke?” Diaz asked.

  “There was a marked shift in imperial policy after Montelblanc,” Klaven said. “Not that the Reich was ever averse to the summary execution of a terrorist or partisan, but we stopped being what the Albion and other nations accused us of being. Still…the memories remained.”

  “And?” Diaz sighed.

  “And,” Klaven pointed at the holo, the mass executions now playing on a loop, “and I don’t believe the Kaiserina would ally with this. Her father and my father walked the same streets of Montelblanc together. The 29th Kaiser was a good man. I refuse to believe that she—the 30th Kaiserina—is any different.”

  “It is not for you to decide,” Diaz said. “You have your orders.”

  “Observe and report, yes.” Klaven waved a hand in annoyance. “Don’t engage in hostile acts. Self-defense only. But if we see enough with our own eyes to know what—”

  “Willful insubordination does not please the Kaiserina,” Diaz said. “We serve the Reich. Not ourselves.”

  “Our empire wide and glorious,” Klaven said. “We stand supremely blessed. I serve the Fatherland and to the Kaiserina.” He smiled for Diaz’s monocle. “But…but there’s no use staying here after all the shooting and screaming has died down, yes? Perhaps the Daegon can give us slip space data to leave sooner?”

  Diaz raised an eyebrow.

  “What are you suggesting?” he asked.

  “The Albion fleet will be off the Daegon’s sensors for quite some time now that they’ve entered the moon’s gravity well. We know what they’re up to…the Daegon don’t. A trade of information. They give us a way out of the system, we save them some trouble.”

  “That’s…acceptable,” Diaz said. “Keeps to the Kaiserina’s instructions.”

  “Naturally, we can’t simply transmit this to the Daegon; the Indus and the Albion would be more perturbed. I need you to go in person to the Daegon fleet. A high g shuttle with a cloaking field will get you there just in time, but you have to leave very soon. I’ll have a team of Reichmarines with you for protection.”

  “This isn’t without risk,” Diaz said. “A Reich shuttle will look like an enemy to the Daegon and the Indus fighters.”

  “Then make sure you’re not detected on the way in. We have Daegon hailing frequencies. You’ll be fine. I’m sure.” Klaven smiled broadly.

  Diaz bit his bottom lip then clicked off his monocle. He bowed slightly and left the wardroom.

  Klaven slapped out a beat on the back of his couch.

  “What do you think, Rapoto?” he asked the Genevan.

  “We have a saying amongst my House,” Rapoto said. “‘To catch a falling knife, one must have sharp eyes and deft hands.’”

  “That…isn’t helping me at all.”

  “I’m not here to help.”

  Klaven wagged a finger at him.

  “And you’re…doing great at that.” Klaven drew a small device from a pocket and held it to his ear. “Hauptmann Richthofen? This is your Unter-Duke. I have a task for you… Afterwards, we can discuss a number of your relatives—specifically your two brothers—imprisoned for circumstances I believe need to be reexamined by a magistrate.”

  ****

  The light from explosions cast against Eubulus’ face as he paced slowly through his holo sphere. Daegon officers at their stations formed a ring around their commander, like silent spectators watching an angry bull await the matador.

  “Fourth themata squadron reports forty-nine percent losses after annihilating the Indus over Mahali,” one called out.

  “I expected higher.” Eubulus swiped a thick hand across the void battle and the projection centered on a loose formation of Daegon destroyers spreading over the city. Their hulls rolled to one side, orienting their cannons toward the planet.

  “The ferals withdrew their main force over the city; two carriers and one battle cruiser successfully disengaged. Last projected course was to their star fort before we lost them over the horizon,” the officer said.

  Eubulus grumbled and zoomed in on Mahali. The main highway snaking through a mountain pass to the city was jammed with vehicles and the undulating stream of civilians on foot.

  “They’re evacuating…different,” Eubulus said. “Have the Fourth saturate the escape route. Then finish off the city. No survivors.”

  “By your will.”

  The corner of Eubulus’ mouth turned up as fireballs stitched down the highway.

  “Father.” Gustavus appeared in the holo sphere, his shoulders tight and his eyes wide with emotion.

  “Not the time,” Eubulus said.

  “Father, the Albion fleet has gone off our scopes,” Gustavus said. “They entered the inner moon gravity well and—”

  “And what? Likely they made for slip space in a hard bore. Less for us to mop up.” Eubulus wagged a finger at an officer and the holo shifted over to the moon Harihara. The Castle Itter was just beyond the inner satellite’s orbit, still on course to bypass New Madras. He touched the Reich ship and the projected effective range of the spine cannon stretched out over the battle space. His mouth watered at the thought of controlling such a weapon, but the Daegon needed to rule over humanity, not watch it wither and die from a mass driver strike that could send a planet into an Ice Age.

  “We shouldn’t under estimate them.” Gustavus scratched the scars on his face.

  “Just because they got the better of Tiberian doesn’t mean I’m the same fool.” Eubulus crossed his arms over his chest. “Sensors, launch a suite of drones ahead of us and toward the moon.”

  “Yes, my lord,” an officer replied and thin tracks leapt out from the Daegon fleet to curve over the horizon while others fired toward Harihara. Eubulus’s brow furrowed as the drones sent to the moon blipped offline.

  “The Indus electric counter measures are better than we’ve encountered before.” The officer shrank slightly. “Our other drones are more successful, as the interference in the upper atmosphere from auroras and—”

  Eubulus slashed his hand across his throat as drone data came in. The Indus ships were converging over Theni City, forming a dome over and around the Amritsar star fort.

  “Hmm…finally.” Eubulus rubbed his palms together.

  “But the Albion ships.” Gustavus’ projection walked up to his father, arms out slightly at his side.

  “We’re in the final moves of this game, boy.” Eubulus zoomed out to see both the Indus force and his own fleet. “Maul formation,” he announced.

  His officers replied with a unified “By your will” and the Daegon fleet reoriented, with the four battleships forming a center as smaller ships aligned into layers around them.

  “Now we crush them,” Eubulus said. “One orbit to bleed them dry, one strike to break their backs.”

  “Why didn’t you do this when we first entered the system?” Gustavus asked.

  “This planet is a military outpost. They were too spread out for us to take them in one fell swoop when we arrived. I wanted them all in one place to destroy them. If I’d destroyed the star fort at the outset, their ships may have fled. Hard bore journey or not. My plan gave them something to defend, disincentive from running. No loose ends. You and Tiberian would appreciate that,” Eubulus said.

  “Yes, of course,” Gustavus said, somewhat sheepishly.

  “Now…who had eyes on the Albion ships when they entered slip space?” Eubulus asked.

  “We don’t know if—the Reich. The Reich did…I’ll hail them.” Gustavus turned in the sphere and tapped commands into the air.

  Eubulus paced around the holo, acknowledging a casualty estimate with a nod as it came up. The themata ships would suffer, but the battleships crewed by true Daegon would emerge with minor damage.

  “No answer.” Gustavus frowned.

  “Doesn’t matter
,” Eubulus said. “They’ll have a fine vantage to watch us finish off these ferals. Then they can go back to their Kaiserina with news of our total victory. They’ll bend the knee to us soon enough.”

  “And what am I to do with the Minotaur?” Gustavus asked.

  “I expect you to rack up a kill tally worthy of our name. Bloody your blade. It will make giving you official command over the ship easier once I report back to the Baroness.”

  “What of Tiberian?”

  “What of him? He’ll succeed in his task on the surface and go back to being a court pet with no need of that ship, or he’ll fail and then he will have no need of the ship when the Baroness melts his writ and pours it down his throat.”

  “I understand.” Gustavus smiled. “Permission to take the lead of the formation?”

  “Denied,” Eubulus said. “Fools rush to glory, son. The patient commander wins the day.” He held a hand out and a slave brought over a void helmet fashioned into a lion’s head, complete with diamond studded fangs.

  “Let the slaughter begin. Gunnery! Full missile launch. Set their sky on fire.”

  CHAPTER 20

  The Orion shook as flames danced against the shields. The battleship tore across the planet’s upper atmosphere, using the friction to slow its velocity after the tight slingshot around the inner moon.

  Gage, strapped into a crash seat, gripped the armrests as another jolt sent the ship undulating up and down as the helmsman called out orders. Bile stung the back of his throat, and he was thankful he’d skipped out on the meal Emma offered just before the maneuver began.

  Price sat in a seat next to him, HUD projections visible through her visor.

  “Anything on sensors?” he asked.

  “Nothing, sire. We’re inside a fireball, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “Then what are you looking at?”

  “Anything that isn’t the fireball around the hull,” she said. “No need to worry, right? Helm misses a course correction through an air current and it’ll all be over before we realize there’s a problem. So why worry?”