Imperial Sunset

by Eric Thomson

  Keen’s image faded away. Morane turned to face DeCarde and Gwenneth. “It’s hard not to feel for them. Keen puts on a good poker face, but he knows the future is grim.”

  “Someone said this to you before,” DeCarde replied. “Perhaps me, perhaps Iona, but we can’t save everyone.”

  “That doesn’t make it easier to bear.” A sad smile briefly crossed Morane’s face.

  “No. I suppose it doesn’t.” DeCarde stood. “I’ll see that B and D Squadrons prepare. We’ll try to do our best to help. Short of settling here, we can’t do more, right? And stopping short of our goal is not an option. Not if we’re to bring your scheme to life. And if we don’t bring your scheme to life, then my battalion might as well have stayed in Klim Castle, fighting to the bitter end.”

  — 43 —

  “This is not good.”

  “Hmm?” Lieutenant Commander Creswell’s head came up, and she turned her eyes on Lettis. “What’s not good, Chief?”

  “Three ships dropped out of FTL near Wormhole Arietis Six. Not Navy, that’s for sure. No beacon either.”

  “Telemetry?”

  “On the main screen.”

  Creswell studied the data. “You’re right. Not good at all. Those aren’t honest merchantmen. They have that look. The same look as those four we chased away two weeks ago.”

  “And those power curves as well, sir.” He pointed at a side display.

  “Woah. Really, not good.” Creswell touched the control screen in the command chair’s arm. “They probably came from Peralka through Wormhole Arietis Three, since we didn’t see them slip into the system. CIC to the captain.”

  A few seconds passed, then, “Morane.”

  “The Wormhole Six traffic control buoy reported three ships, definitely not Navy and likely not merchant coming out of hyperspace on a course to enter the terminus. Emissions signature is consistent with high-powered raiders. We didn’t spot them entering the system, which indicates they probably came from Peralka, like the others.”

  Morane’s muffled reply sounded suspiciously like a half-swallowed curse. “Meaning they could be the three we chased off the other day. Or members of the same clan. And since Arietis is now defended, perhaps they thought it would be a good idea to probe Lyonesse.”

  A pause, then a sigh. He mentally damned himself for tarrying in this system, trying to help the stranded colonists prepare their defenses. But leaving them to an uncertain fate without at least doing something would grievously wound his conscience.

  “Captain to the bridge.”

  “Officer of the watch.”

  “Order our and Narwhal’s shuttles to evacuate everyone on the surface and warn the battle group we’re leaving the moment the Marines are aboard.” He thought for a few moments. “Raise Myrtale.”

  Sirak answered with commendable speed. Morane told him about the three suspicious ships spotted by the wormhole terminus leading to Lyonesse’s dead-end branch.

  “I must recover the Marines, which might take two or three hours, if not more, and with Narwhal so sluggish, I fear they might reach Lyonesse and commit mischief before we can stop them.”

  “And you’d like me to head out right away.”

  “Push Myrtale, Nate and never mind the Fleet’s safety regulations. Every hour you can save by jumping before you reach the hyperlimit and by pushing into the upper FTL bands could mean lives saved. Track those ships and if they’re what we fear, destroy them.”

  “In other words, you’d like me to act like a typical frigate captain.” A sly grin appeared on Sirak’s swarthy features. “Done and done. Just don’t take too long. Otherwise, I might leave nothing for Vanquish to dine on. With your permission?”

  “Go. Godspeed and good luck.”

  Sirak’s face faded away. Morane, sitting at the desk in his day cabin, tapped its surface with his fingertips as his mind feverishly spun through a long list of scenarios, none of them with a happy ending for Lyonesse. Three ships might not seem like much, but they could devastate a colony of less than a million inhabitants, whose settlements were concentrated along one strip of shoreline in a matter of hours.

  So much for hoping no one would venture into that particular wormhole branch while more accessible systems lay wide open. And what about Arietis? Once they left, its colonists would quickly find themselves in an existential struggle with barbarians seeping in from beyond the empire’s old borders. However, even with the best will in the galaxy, there was nothing Morane could do besides sacrifice his dream. Arietis might not count as a strategic wormhole junction, yet its termini would make sure the system became part of a vital incursion route for any invaders, and therefore indefensible by two warships and a naval transport.

  The comm system chimed again. He glanced at the screen embedded in his desk. A call from the surface. DeCarde. Morane accepted the link.

  “Why the sudden evacuation, sir? We’re not done yet.”

  “Sensors picked up what looks like reivers near Wormhole Six. They’ll be on their way down the Lyonesse branch within a few hours.”

  “Shit.”

  “Myrtale is on her way as we speak, but I’m afraid the worst might happen, so there’s no time to lose. We shouldn’t have stayed this long in the first place. With the 16th Fleet gone, Arietis is doomed anyhow.”

  DeCarde snorted. “Doomed, perhaps. But I think we helped them buy a little more time.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know. For a warlord from the badlands to adopt Arietis as his or her fief instead of pillaging everything. You’re usually more upbeat and hopeful, Captain. Perhaps you need to spend more time with Sister Gwenneth and search for your waning faith.”

  Morane bit back a curt reply and tried to shove his anxiety about reivers reaching Lyonesse before the 197th Battle Group to one side.

  “Just get up here, Brigid. We must leave.”

  “What do I tell the colonists? Goodbye and good luck? Sounds a little harsh.”

  “Tell them the star system next door needs rescuing from death by reiver, just like we saved Arietis.”

  A sardonic grin appeared on the Marine’s face. “My, my, you are testy today. Warm up those drives, Captain Savior. We’re coming home.”

  Her face faded away, and Morane found himself tapping his fingers on the desktop again. He successfully resisted the urge to visit either the CIC or the bridge, knowing his presence in either wouldn’t speed up their departure, though it would ensure his impatience and anxiety became contagious. No one would thank him for that.

  **

  DeCarde tucked her communicator away and turned back to where D Squadron’s Pathfinders were putting another batch of Arietis Volunteer Force members through basic small unit tactics. They were willing enough after living in fear since the Arietis Task Force bugged out weeks earlier, leaving them with nothing more than abandoned naval stores at the Cintrea spaceport. Yet DeCarde didn’t think most would live long enough to become even semi-capable fighters.

  But the planet was ancient. It saw other species settle, thrive and vanish long before humanity showed up to re-occupy the towns and villages strung along the bottom of its continent-sized rift valley. That valley was the only place left where temperature, air pressure, and shelter combined to allow large-scale agriculture capable of supporting millions. But Arietis never supported millions. At least not during the centuries of human tenure. No one knew quite how many colonists remained, but Cintrea, Hauk, Lomis and Mezza, the four major settlements where she’d deployed her squadrons to train locals, seemed capable of housing much larger populations.

  She found the head of the Arietis Volunteer Force, an old Marine veteran who somehow ended here after retiring and slumming his way across the empire, talking to D Squadron’s first sergeant by the side of the road. Ramirus Brockway was one of the few left behind who knew what the business end of a plasma rifle looked like, let alone how to hit a reiver at five hundred meters, when the rebels bugged out. But at least Arietis would
n’t die off like Palmyra, Lorien and who knew how many other outlying colonies that didn’t realize soon enough the empire no longer protected them.

  At her approach, Brockway and the first sergeant came to attention. The retired Marine saw the expression on DeCarde’s face and grimaced. “You look like someone who just swallowed a lump of antimatter fuel, Colonel.”

  “I’m afraid we have to leave, Sergeant Brockway. Our sensors spotted a reiver wolf pack heading into the Lyonesse branch, and if we don’t go after them, the people at the other end won’t be as fortunate as Arietis.”

  “Now?”

  “Within the hour.”

  Brockway spat on the dusty road. “Satan take the reivers and their spawn.” His eyes met hers with unabashed frankness. “I’ll confess I’d hoped you might settle here, Colonel, or at least stay for a while, but I understand. You and your Captain Morane are what’s left in these parts to fight the scum.” He stuck out his hand. “Still, I’m glad to have met you, and so are the others. Maybe they’ve learned enough to make the next raiding party that lands think twice. On behalf of the Volunteers, thanks and may the Almighty watch over you.”

  “Good luck, Sergeant Brockway.”

  DeCarde briefly thought about offering the veteran a berth in Vanquish but understood her intimation he might abandon Arietis to its fate would insult him. This was now his home, something worth fighting for after a life of fighting for an empire that stopped caring long ago. She stepped onto the road and looked up at where the Cintrea spaceport sat high above the rift valley.

  “All Pegasus call signs, this is Niner. Wrap up activities, prepare for immediate departure, and activate beacons. Shuttles are inbound. Vanquish spotted tangos near our destination wormhole. They could threaten our future home. Acknowledge.”

  Five squadron commanders promptly replied, and moments later, she saw D Squadron break away from the Volunteer Force’s Cintrea Company to form in three ranks. The non-plussed colonists simply stopped in mid-stride and watched them leave until Brockway shouted an order to carry on. He gave DeCarde a final salute before joining his troops. She knew then they would never meet again.

  Half an hour later, after a forced march, DeCarde and D Squadron climbed aboard the creaky funicular connecting Cintrea to its spaceport and watched the rift valley dwindle below them. She found Combat Support Squadron, which was training the Volunteer Force’s own support troops, already formed up, ready to climb aboard Narwhal’s shuttles when they landed.

  The flight from Vanquish arrived first, however. A funny sensation settled in the pit of her stomach as she lifted off, leaving Major Waske and her troops on the dusty tarmac. But it passed the moment Waske reported she and hers were also in the air.

  During the flight into orbit, she tried to analyze that unexpected reaction and concluded Waske briefly stood in for Brockway and the other frightened but willing volunteers they were leaving to an unknown and probably unhappy fate. But as she’d told Morane several times during their long voyage, they couldn’t save everyone.

  — 44 —

  “The traffic control buoy confirms the three tangos dropped into the wormhole, Captain. They’re definitely headed for Lyonesse. They’ll enter ISC668231-2 in seven hours.”

  Though Morane knew it was coming, his fists clenched nonetheless. ISC668231-2 was the first of the two sterile systems in the Lyonesse branch. But Myrtale, still boosting out to the hyperlimit at a rate of acceleration that was making her inertial dampeners scream, wouldn’t reach Wormhole Six until the reivers were already halfway across the system.

  And that was if she jumped upon entering the hyperlimit’s red zone instead of waiting to reach a safe distance and pushed her speed beyond what was considered safe within a star’s heliosphere. Those additional stresses on top of the battle damage she suffered weeks earlier would cut her remaining service life short indeed, but Morane saw no other way. She was still the fastest ship in his flotilla. The fastest warship that is. Dawn Trader might outrace the frigate, but she didn’t carry sufficient ordnance to take on three reivers.

  Lyonesse would be on its own for the better part of a day before Myrtale arrived and face a desperate situation. Unless he could warn the colonists.

  Arietis no longer had a system subspace relay, but there was an outside chance Vanquish’s subspace transmitter might reach the Lyonesse system relay. It might give them time to prepare. If Lyonesse was listening. And if the listeners were inclined to believe his message.

  “Bridge, this is the captain.”

  “Officer of the watch.”

  “Aim our subspace transmitter at the Lyonesse system, boost its power as high as possible and send the following. Three suspected reiver ships are on their way to Lyonesse from Arietis. Expected arrival in the Lyonesse system any time after seventy-two hours from this message’s date-time stamp. We are following but will be as much as twelve hours behind. Signed, Captain Jonas Morane, Starship Vanquish, 197th Battle Group. Put it on repeat until we break out of orbit. And make sure Myrtale hears the message as well.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Morane sat back in his chair and let out an exasperated sigh. So close and yet it might be for naught. If only they hadn’t lingered around Arietis. Or swung by Lorien to witness its devastation. If, if, if.

  No doubt Sister Gwenneth would tell him to trust in the Almighty; that he had a plan in mind; that things were unfolding as they must, and that none of them would ever grasp, let alone see the downstream effects of each decision, each choice and each action. Sometimes such effects don’t become apparent for generations if ever.

  That was good and well, but it didn’t ease his growing anxiety. What would the future look like if Lyonesse, instead of providing sanctuary, met a horrible end because the 197th arrived too late? Where would he take his people and where would he build the knowledge vault that was his sole driving passion? Questions with no answers.

  “Bridge to the captain.”

  “Morane.”

  “Pegasus flights are in the air.”

  **

  “How did they take it?” Morane asked, not bothering with the usual greeting when DeCarde entered his day cabin to report.

  “I took the coward’s way out and only spoke with Ramirus Brockway. He wasn’t happy, needless to say, but he understood. We gave Arietis the chance to live and fight another day. It’s only right we do the same for Lyonesse.” She went to the samovar and poured herself a cup without waiting for an invitation. “What are the chances we’ll arrive in time to prevent total disaster?”

  Morane gave her a disconsolate shrug. “I don’t know. If the Almighty is smiling on Lyonesse, they’ll hear our warning and prepare. If not, the reivers might get half a day to wreak havoc unopposed before Myrtale catches them.”

  “Three against one aren’t the greatest odds, even if Myrtale can hit hard and take as good as she gives.” DeCarde made a doubtful face as she took a seat across from him.

  “Let’s hope they’re not in a hurry.” She paused. “You could always order Lori Ryzkov to drop Tanith, so we can push beyond the safety limits and only end up an hour or two behind Myrtale instead of what? Half a day or more?”

  “And abandon our mysterious prisoner? The one Friar Locarno and his Brethren consider so important they won’t even tell us his or her identity until we’re well out of reach from both the empire and the rebellion? They wouldn’t allow me to do that.”

  “Why not? You’re the supreme commander and shepherd of this convoy.”

  “Don’t ask me why or how. I just know they won’t allow me to do so. Tanith comes with us. Myrtale will hold her own long enough to shield Lyonesse until the reivers either break off or we arrive. Remember, marauders want easy pickings, not something they must fight the Navy for. There’s no profit in dying, and they have no cause to die for.” He tapped the desktop with his fingers for a few seconds. “I know the Marine Corps pulled its last unit out of the Lyonesse system eight years ago. The 77th, if I re
call correctly.”

  DeCarde nodded. “Also known as the Land Raptors, on account of their regimental crest. It features a Cimmerian pteranodon for some unknown reason.”

  “Perhaps they were wise enough to raise colonial troops in the interim. Equipping such a force wouldn’t be difficult, and as we saw with our friend Brockway and his drinking buddies, Marine Corps veterans pop up in the most unlikely places and organize things.”

  “If they did, someone forgot to tell Fleet HQ. There’s no defense force or colonial militia listed in the official records.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time a colony did its own thing without notifying the sector government, let alone Wyvern. Once the Ruggero dynasty started squeezing to consolidate its power, more than just the sovereign star systems pushed back. Even those under colonial office administration became balky in recent decades, hence the fractures now splitting wide open with such tragic results.”

  The ship’s public address system came on, cutting off DeCarde’s reply.

  “Now hear this. Departure stations in five, I repeat, five minutes. That is all.”

  “Do you think we’ll ever see Arietis again?” She asked instead.

  “I don’t know. Doubtful. Myrtale and Narwhal will suffer from enough structural stresses by the time we reach Lyonesse to ensure they never leave the system. Ditto for Tanith, because I’m not about to risk anyone’s life fixing the sabotaged antimatter fuel system. That leaves Vanquish, who I expect will finish her years as an orbital defense platform because I don’t expect the Lyonesse antimatter fuel cracking station to last without regular maintenance and orbit adjustments.”

  “And Dawn Trader.”

  “Which is neither a warship nor under my command once we reach our destination. No.” He shook his head. “This will be a one-way trip. Would you like to take a last look at Arietis? I can dial up a view.”

  “Pass. It’ll simply remind me we’re abandoning good people to a difficult future.”

  “Humanity’s collapsing empire is full of good people, Brigid. They’re in the majority. Yet they’ll suffer the same fate as those who deserve it. And there’s nothing you or I can do, except carry on with our self-imposed mission and see our charges to a safe harbor.”