Imperial Sunset

by Eric Thomson

  “Perhaps she has a copy of your family lore in her travel bag.” Morane chuckled. “Come to think of it, isn’t your family lore something that transcends a mortal lifetime and connects you to your forebears since before the birth of the empire? A bit like the Order of the Void’s teachings isn’t it?”

  She gave him a dirty glance and muttered, “Please, Captain, don’t compare us DeCardes to those mind-meddlers. Not even in jest.”

  Morane raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, you heard the sister. I’m just a shepherd, not a philosopher. But I am good at pointing out the obvious.”

  DeCarde gave him a dirty look and growled, “Obviously.”

  — 41 —

  “We’re in the Arietis system. All ships present,” Lettis reported, “and they came through the terminus in silent running mode.”

  “Now the real fun begins,” Mikkel murmured. “Bullshitting our way through a rebel-held system on the longest path between termini this junction has to offer.”

  “Have a little faith, Iona. I hear it can move mountains.” Morane glanced over his shoulder at Gwenneth, who gave him a solemn nod. “Besides, Arietis is not a strategic node. It’s merely one gateway to the peripheral imperial systems, far from the turmoil surrounding the sector capital. The local commander won’t be expecting trouble, nor will he or she be up on the latest news. That’s the one advantage of operating in a chaotic environment. You often can’t tell who is a friend and who is a foe until the shooting starts.”

  “But whichever flag officer runs this place will be puzzled by our heading for a wormhole cul-de-sac.”

  “Perhaps, but I can’t see the Arietis Task Force chasing us into a dead-end.”

  A few minutes passed, then the signals petty officer turned toward Morane. “Sir, I’m not picking up a subspace carrier wave from the system relay. Either it’s dormant or gone.”

  “How about normal radio waves?”

  “The usual coming from Arietis. But nothing from the system relay. And no starship beacons. However, I am picking up the wormhole terminus traffic control buoys’ subspace carrier waves. They seem to be the only extra-atmospheric transmitters in operation.”

  “Strange. Where is the Arietis Task Force?” Morane ran a hand, fingers splayed, through his hair as he studied the tactical projection with a puzzled expression on his face. “Hook us into the traffic control buoys. At least we’ll know if something comes or goes without waiting for visuals to catch up a day later.”

  They spent the next hour in almost total silence as the 197th’s sensors probed for human activity while its receivers kept listening to both the subspace and normal radio bands.

  “Nothing,” Lettis finally said. “No evidence of activity in this system either, but the planet’s satellite constellation appears functional, just like Mentari’s.”

  “Could it be a trap?” DeCarde asked. “Custis somehow spread the word about us stealing Tanith and they’re waiting in ambush?”

  “Possible but not probable,” Morane replied. “There’s no way for Admiral Ostrow to figure out our destination and I can’t see Custis ordering every system under his control to go silent in case a rag-tag battle group shows up. Besides, if the Arietis Task Force is setting a trap, would they leave the traffic control buoys active? Or at least would they leave them so any naval unit can connect, including us? Perhaps the Arietis Task Force left the system in response to a call for reinforcements closer to the badlands. In Peralka for example.”

  “Or the rebel Navy buggered off and abandoned this system. Arietis isn’t exactly an economic or political powerhouse. On the contrary.”

  “That could very well be, Annalise. And since this system has six wormhole termini, it’s just a matter of time before—”

  “Before reivers start probing? I think time’s up, sir.” Lettis pointed at a side display. “According to the Wormhole Arietis Three traffic control buoy, four ships just came through the terminus, inbound from Peralka. And they don’t look like naval units to me.”

  Morane and Creswell studied the buoy’s data stream.

  “Not Navy and not merchant. A wolf pack,” the latter said. “Reivers, no doubt about it. Look at those power curves.”

  Morane made a sound of agreement.

  “Which means Peralka is no longer under Navy control. Either Admiral Zahar withdrew the 162nd to reinforce another, more important part of the sector, or its commander remained loyal to the Crown and decided to head for Wyvern or one of the core sectors.”

  “Our last update from HQ shows the Arietis Task Force as coming from the 162nd Battle Group. If the one-six-two abandoned its home system, then that might explain why there are no naval units here either.”

  “Indeed, Annalise. And now the barbarians are probing the next junction in the network.”

  “They might know the Arietis Task Force bugged out along with the 162nd.”

  “Could well be. If they’re paying attention, they’ll soon realize that Arietis is no longer defended either. And then they’ll strike.”

  “Sir?” Morane turned to the signals petty officer. “The traffic control buoy’s carrier wave just vanished.”

  “Meaning they’re aware Arietis is no longer defended and destroyed it. If we head for the planet straight off, we might arrive simultaneously or shortly after they do. Four of them shouldn’t prove a problem for Vanquish, let alone Vanquish and Myrtale together.”

  Creswell nodded in agreement. “We need to cross the system from side to side anyway. A brief stop shouldn’t delay us much, and so far we haven’t expended ammunition since leaving Cervantes.”

  Mikkel reacted at once.

  “You want us to head for Arietis and beat off reivers? What about our mission? Sail to Lyonesse. Saving Arietis isn’t our fight.”

  “I don’t doubt that wolf pack is headed for the planet, Iona. The least we can do is intercept it and give the colonists a chance since they seem to be totally unprotected.” Morane’s voice was calm, his tone soft and measured. “Providence put us in a position to help, and I think we should do so. Plot a course to the Arietis hyperlimit. When ready, sync the ships and engage. Once we’re there, Vanquish and Myrtale will continue on to Arietis at best speed, while Narwhal and Dawn Trader go silent and loiter until we’re done.”

  Iona Mikkel knew any argument would be futile. “Aye, aye, sir.”

  **

  “They beat us by a nose,” Chief Lettis growled once he, and the rest of the CIC crew, recovered from the usual FTL emergence nausea ten hours later.

  Morane swallowed a few times to settle his stomach as he studied the tactical projection showing four red icons nearing Arietis. “Smaller ships, closer hyperlimit, Chief.”

  “Is there a point in running silent?” Mikkel asked. “Which Narwhal and Dawn Trader already are, by the way.”

  “No. Pour on as much acceleration as we can handle. Pass the word to Myrtale.”

  “Done.”

  “Signals, see if you can raise anyone on Arietis. Traffic control, for example. If their satellites are still up, they should be able to hear our subspace transmission. They may not see the reivers yet.”

  Several minutes passed in silence, then, “I have Arietis Traffic Control, sir. Audio only.”

  “On speakers.”

  “Who is this?” An irritated voice asked.

  “I’m Captain Morane, of the 197th Battle Group. And you are?”

  “Biro Jacks, operations manager.”

  “Are you aware four suspected reiver ships are on course for Arietis, Mister Jacks?”

  “Yep. Took the fuckers long enough.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Commodore Kajo pulled out with the rest of the Arietis Task Force eight weeks ago. No explanation, no farewells, nothing. The governor, his staff, and the entire colonial office bunch bugged off with them. Took the damned system subspace relay too.”

  “So you’ve been both leaderless and defenseless for two months?”

>   A grim chuckle came over the comlink. “Yep. Although we’ve set up our own governing council. We also scraped together a few hundred volunteers, pilfered the Navy’s storehouse in Cintrea and set up an informal militia.”

  “Then you’re ahead of other frontier systems. We passed through two where the entire population was either kidnapped or massacred. Places that never had a Navy presence to begin with.”

  “Those animals will find out we shoot back once they land.”

  “The 197th is inbound, though about an hour behind them. We’ll try our best to help.”

  “Thank you kindly, Captain. Shintaro Keen, our council chief, is about to warn the militia, but anything you can do is much appreciated.”

  “Then I suggest you deactivate your satellite constellation, so the reivers don’t shoot it up, just for fun. What they can’t track, they can’t target.”

  “Thanks for the suggestion. We’ll do so now. Good hunting. Arietis Traffic Control, out.”

  Morane exchanged a puzzled glance with DeCarde. “Biro Jacks sounds more annoyed than worried.”

  “Maybe they built the mother of all reiver traps?”

  Sister Gwenneth shook her head. “Many people hide their fear behind irritation. Jacks is deeply concerned.”

  “At least we can help with the reiver incursion, Sister.”

  “And your interrupting our journey for this purpose is a good thing, but do not be surprised if the people governing Arietis pressure you to stay and become their protector.”

  “I know.” Morane grimaced. “But much as it will pain me, I understand that staying here would be like trying to hold back the tide of history. Arietis is one of those crossroads doomed to see every barbarian invasion pass through, and that makes it utterly unsuitable for a knowledge vault.”

  “Can I make a suggestion? Something that might help salve your conscience about leaving the folks behind when we pull out?” DeCarde asked. When Morane nodded, she said, “Jacks mentioned a volunteer militia. Do you think we could stick around for a while after dealing with the reivers? To give the volunteers a hand with their training? And whatever else they need to deal with the next incursion? Send my battalion to the surface for a week or two. Let us stretch our legs, and we’ll do what we can.”

  Morane glanced at Commander Mikkel’s hologram, hovering by his elbow as always. “Iona?”

  The first officer gave him an irritable shrug. “Why ask me, Skipper. I know you’ll do as you see fit no matter what anyone says. Besides, it’s taken us this long to reach Arietis. What are a few more weeks before we enter the Promised Land?”

  “So it shall be done. Once we clean up the orbitals.” Morane settled back in his chair and stared at the tactical projection, willing his two warships to close the distance with Arietis and the approaching reivers.

  — 42 —

  “They’re about to enter orbit.”

  Morane made a face. “I was afraid we might lose this race, Chief. Although I’d much rather get close enough without being noticed for guaranteed kill shots, letting them enter the atmosphere and land, or worse yet, bombard the colony’s command-and-control nodes won’t do. Annalise, ping them hard with our targeting sensors. Let’s see if that spooks the bastards enough so they veer off and run. They might not quite believe the Arietis Task Force left for good and think we’re Commodore Kajo coming back.”

  “Pinging.”

  Several minutes passed without the reivers changing course. But as Morane expected, they finally realized something was coming up behind them.

  “We’re being pinged in return,” Chief Lettis said. “They know we’re here, armed and hazardous to their health.”

  “And they’re veering off,” Creswell added. “Smart little beggars.”

  Morane studied the ships’ relative vectors. “Iona, we will pursue. Cease decelerating and pour on the gees again. Annalise, as soon as we’re in effective missile range open fire. Coordinate with Myrtale on targeting. Two reivers each.”

  “Remember,” the first officer said, “a stern chase is a long chase. They may well reach their hyperlimit before we can score disabling hits, and you don’t sound prepared to follow them in FTL, let alone through the wormhole to Peralka.”

  “Doesn’t matter. If the only thing we do is frighten them into thinking the Navy never left Arietis, then it’ll at least buy the colonists more time to prepare.” He glanced over his shoulder at DeCarde. “With your help.”

  The next hour passed in tense silence, but it soon became obvious Vanquish and Myrtale wouldn’t catch all four reivers. The two lead ships had a better rate of acceleration than their comrades and were pulling away, leaving the laggards to their fate.

  Creswell startled everyone except Morane when she broke the CIC’s silence to announce, “Missiles away.” Muted vibrations reached them as the autoloader in the ship’s keel rotated to refill the launch tubes. Small blue icons separated from the larger images representing the 197th’s two warships. One cluster soon settled behind the rearmost ship and the other behind the second last.

  The lead ships suddenly winked out of existence as they jumped into hyperspace. Chief Lettis grunted. “The buggers don’t much care about stressing their hulls, because they weren’t quite at the hyperlimit yet.”

  “Needs must when the devil drives,” Creswell replied. “And we’re an avenging Satan come to life.”

  Then, a tiny supernova flashed in the tactical display, and one of the two remaining red icons vanished.

  “Those were our missiles.” Then the remaining red icon dematerialized. “Myrtale scored direct hits, but the reiver jumped seconds later, so there’s no way of knowing how much damage they caused. If it’s catastrophic enough, he’ll come out of FTL as a debris field. But we’ll never know.”

  “Better than nothing. Thank you, Annalise.” Morane looked at Mikkel’s hologram. “Take us back to Arietis and open a link with the man in charge, Iona.”

  **

  “I understand we owe you thanks for chasing off those unknown starships.” A wizened man, with craggy features that seemed almost as ancient as Arietis’ arid surface, looked out at Morane from the CIC’s main display. His eyes gleamed with the stubbornness of someone determined to outlive his contemporaries. “Shame you only destroyed one of them. I’m Shintaro Keen, by the way, the guy who supposedly runs this place since the governor and the Navy buggered off without so much as a goodbye kiss.”

  “Pleasure, sir. And we winged another who might not survive an FTL jump to the wormhole. But as my first officer keeps reminding me, a stern chase is a long chase, and something of that size can outrun a cruiser like Vanquish if it has a head start.”

  “Does your arrival mean we’re no longer alone? That the viceroy, whoever holds that cursed title nowadays, or his admiral figured out this system and its six wormhole termini isn’t something you abandon with complete disregard?”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but my battle group is merely passing through on another mission. We spotted the reivers and diverted to intercept them.”

  Keen’s face sagged into a crestfallen expression. “So you’ll be leaving us too.”

  “Yes, sir.” Morane felt his heart sink at the despair he saw in the chief counselor’s eyes. “I can hardly find the words to express how sorry I am, but I have no choice. However, if you like, we can spend a week or two helping you prepare. I carry a Marine Pathfinder battalion. It would please them to land on Arietis and give your volunteers with whatever training, advice and assistance they can before we move on with our mission.”

  “You know this attempted raid is only the first, right, Captain?”

  “I do. Arietis has an unenviable position, especially since it seems Peralka has slipped into the badlands because that’s where those four ships originated. If Peralka was still patrolled by the Navy, the reivers wouldn’t have dared come here.”

  “Good thing we own little of interest. Outside of the rift valley, there’s nothing. Not even native wildl
ife. Reivers must be daft to figure they can strike it rich.”

  “They’re not particularly intelligent, sir. Cunning, yes, and definitely cruel. But not smart. Otherwise, they’d engage in honest trade.”

  “Not smart? Or not quite human anymore? I’ve heard stories of what goes on in the badlands, Captain.” Keen sighed. “We’ll gladly take whatever aid you can give, and welcome your Marines with open arms. Arietis doesn’t offer much, but if you’re looking for a home base, you’ll find us more hospitable and more grateful than pretty much anyone in the Coalsack Sector. Keep that in mind.”

  “Yes, sir. We’ll be in orbit shortly. My other two ships will arrive approximately four hours after that. If you don’t object, I will land the first half of the 6th Battalion, 21st Pathfinder Regiment the moment we’re above Cintrea, with the rest to follow later in the day. Colonel DeCarde will be pleased to meet with whoever you appoint so they can discuss how she might help the Arietis Volunteers.”

  “That’ll be Ramirus Brockway. He’s what you might call the commanding officer of our little defense force. Former Marine. Solid man. But there’s not much to work with. Mind you, we haven’t broken into every Navy warehouse yet. Some of them are tough nuts, and could even be booby-trapped. Ramirus didn’t want to push things.”

  “We can try our codes, sir. And Colonel DeCarde’s people know a few tricks. Every last Navy storeroom will be yours before we leave.”

  “Much appreciated. Tell us when the good colonel is landing, and I’ll ask Ramirus to meet her at the Cintrea spaceport. Once again, thank you for stopping by to chase off those thieving scum, and keep in mind you could find a home here if you so wish.”

  Morane inclined his head. “We were merely doing our duty, sir. And that duty demands our presence elsewhere.”

  “I understand. Until later.”