The Last Charge (The Nameless War Trilogy Book 3)

by Edmond Barrett

  “You all right, Dad?”

  Guinness looked up at his son – he hadn’t heard him come in – and realised his mind must have drifted.

  “Yeah, just tired.”

  “It wasn’t too much for you was it?”

  “No, no, it was... nice to see everyone. Although I supposed we’ll be doing the same song and dance again next month.”

  A couple of local councillors had popped in during the afternoon and one had mentioned a formal memorial event for the following month. Guinness was one of four people from the county that had gone to war. One came back minus his legs and one didn’t come back at all. Now the council wanted to hand out freedoms of the city or some such.

  “If you want to head for bed I’ll deal with the clean up,” his son continued.

  Guinness looked around. The place certainly gave the impression that it had been bombed in the middle of a burglary. Then he looked up again at his son. He was a good lad, looking out for his Da. But then his Da was a man who’d spent the last three years keeping antiques and patchwork ships going as they were shot to pieces around him. He’d walked in the door in his uniform, a chief engineer, master of the engineering spaces, but at some point during the festivities, he’d taken off his jacket and become an old man again. In a few weeks he’d probably be just some old fart to be avoided before he started banging on about the war to people who wouldn’t be able to understand what it had been like.

  “No, I’ll help,” he replied getting up, “you don’t know where half the stuff goes anymore. If I let you do it, tomorrow I’ll be wondering where half my plates have gone. Anyway tomorrow I’ve got stuff to do.”

  “Oh? What kind of stuff?”

  “Figuring what the bloody hell I’m doing with the rest of my life.”

  ___________________________

  “Congratulations Lieutenant Commander,” the Admiral murmured as he pinned on the medal.

  “Thank you, sir,” Alanna replied as she saluted sharply and the Admiral continued down the line of recipients.

  The awards ceremony was followed by an obligatory reception, for which the fleet had put on a surprisingly good spread. But then how often would there be six freshly minted Earth Crosses, the fleet’s highest award, in a single room? Given that half of the medals had been posthumously awarded, if never again then, to Alanna’s way of thinking, that wouldn’t be a bad thing. Her conversation with Commodore Crowe’s widow had been awkward. She hadn’t realised he’d even been married. Always the unspoken question – why did you come back and he didn’t?

  Alanna took a spot by the buffet table and a particularly good cheese platter where she could watch the room. It was vaguely amusing to observe the full range of military personnel from ratings to admirals sharing a space, each attempting to make awkward small talk, while civilians – friends and family – blithely sailed through the middle of it all. She could see Schurenhofer, her father, and her former gunner’s boyfriend near the centre of the room, talking to a senior captain, which under other circumstances might have made her nervous.

  “Ah, there you are. I was looking for you Lieutenant Commander.”

  It was Admiral Clarence. Alanna automatically started to salute but with one arm still in a sling and her other holding a wine glass, she realised she was stuck.

  Clarence grinned.

  “Don’t worry about that. How’s the arm?”

  “Getting better, sir.”

  “I wanted to have a little word with you.”

  “About, sir?” she asked, although she immediately guessed what he wanted to talk about.

  “I understand from my office that you’ve put in to resign from the fleet.”

  “That’s correct, sir,” Alanna replied. “On medical grounds. The doctors say my shoulder is mending well but I’ll never regain full mobility in the joint. Ninety to ninety five percent but that’s not enough for fighter operations.”

  “I know this might sound like heresy to a redoubtable pilot like yourself, but there is more to the fleet than fighters. You’ve proved in the field that you have an aptitude for other command roles. You saved Deimos when no one would have faulted you for punching out,” Clarence said.

  Maybe it had been an acknowledgment of her success in saving the ship or perhaps it was simply a reflection of how many had died, but Alanna had been left in command for the long flight home. It was only when they reached Earth, once they had solemnly carried off the coffins and Deimos’s battered hull was towed into dock that she finally handed over command.

  When Alanna made no reply he continued.

  “The thing is, the fleet is about to lose a lot of people over the next six months. The reservists are being demobilised as we speak and the national militaries will want back the various bods they transferred to us. We will face not only a shortfall in numbers but also a real skills shortage. So I’m really hoping to persuade you to stay.”

  Alanna looked out across the room and listened to the babble of conversation. Through the windows she could see down into Dublin city and beyond that, the rest of the world.

  “I promised myself two things if I made it through. I promised that if I did, I’d find out what else is out there and I promised that I wouldn’t let the Old Dauntless be forgotten. I’m sorry sir – I’ll serve out my enlistment period of course and do whatever it is the fleet wants while it has me. But then I’m done. I’m looking into a job with the terraforming project on Mars. I’m still owed a guided tour at the very least.”

  Clarence sighed.

  “Can’t say that’s unexpected. Unwelcome, but not unexpected,” he said. “Take a look by all means. The fleet will wait for you – not forever mind – but it will wait for a while. Good luck, Lieutenant Commander Shermer.

  ___________________________

  “Corporal Alice Peats? Or is it Doctor Alice Peats? Is there an Alice Peats here?”

  “Here!” croaked Alice as she turned her head towards the flap of the medical tent.

  “You’ve got a visitor.”

  Wearily, she noticed the medical orderly duck his head back under the tent flap and then heard him speaking to someone before the flap was pushed back again and an almost forgotten face came through.

  “Damien!” she whispered.

  Damien Demolder, her former deputy, friend and lover. He tried to keep the shock at her appearance from his face and comprehensively failed.

  “Sorry I’ve kinda let myself go a bit since we last met,” she joked weakly. “I didn’t get fat though.”

  “Oh Jesus,” he said.

  There was no disguising what had happened. She’d been lucky, that was what she kept telling herself. She’d survived the amputation and blood loss, although fever had nearly carried her off. But she clung to life as those who’d found and protected her clung to a precarious existence dodging Nameless patrols. Until that day – that miraculous day – finally arrived, when a human ship – was seen roaring across the sky, ending their nightmare.

  “I followed after your group or at least I thought I did,” Damien said as he gently touched her cheek. Since the fleet returned I’ve been looking for you.”

  “You got here just in time then,” she whispered. “A hospital ship arrives tomorrow. I’m transporting to Earth – no room on Landfall for useless mouths.”

  Survivors were still being found. Most of the population of the planet that had survived had done so by getting as far into the wilderness as they could. Thousands, tens of thousands, were still out there. The fleet didn’t have the means to airlift them back and could only do supply drops. For those who had reached the refugee centres, there was no easy future. With the planet’s infrastructure devastated, there were months and years of work ahead for the traumatised survivors. Those who could not work would be returning to Earth, while those who could, would remain. In neither case would there be a choice.

  “They can do amazing things these days with prosthetics and regrown tissue,” he started to say before trailing
off as she squeezed his hand with the only one she still had.

  ___________________________

  In the chamber the holo pad began to glow and everyone stood as the Council members appeared.

  “Please sit,” President Clifton said as her hologram stabilised, giving them a moment to do so before she continued. “Admiral Lewis, welcome back and may I extend both my personal congratulations and those of the people of the United States. All of us owe you and those you commanded a tremendous debt of gratitude.”

  Lewis nodded his acknowledgement.

  “Now, Admiral Wingate, moving onto business. Your report, please.”

  “Thank you,” Wingate replied with a nod. “Council members, firstly I can confirm with a high degree of certainty that as per earlier reports, the Nameless have now completely left our arm of the galaxy. Furthermore, scouts that have reached Earth since the Home Fleet departed the Spur have confirmed that the Nameless are evacuating the system destroyed by the Phantom task group. Those scouts have also observed activity in other systems on the Nameless side of the Rift and it would appear the Nameless are fortifying their border.”

  “I by no means disparage the efforts of the fleet but this is an unsatisfactory peace,” said Prime Minister Layland.

  “Yes sir, we have a peace without a treaty, armistice or even ceasefire,” Wingate replied. “In essence, the war is over only because they cannot reach us.”

  “Nor have we stripped from them their ability to wage war,” Lewis said forbiddingly.

  “How then can we be sure that they will not return, a month from now or six months?”

  “Eventually sir, I regret to say I believe they will,” Wingate replied. “On a fundamental level, the Nameless believe that our very existence makes us a threat. Unless that changes, it is impossible to see any way by which we might meet them halfway. But in the short term I believe they cannot. Their fleet suffered massive losses attempting to break the Home Fleet at the Spur. Additionally, now that we have proven our ability and willingness to destroy a world” – several council members winced at that – “it means that we have demonstrated we are the very threat they so fear. Finally, while they can go round the Rift at the expense of both time and effort, by contrast we can cross it relatively easily. Thus, what remains of their fleet must be retained in home defence. They will rebuild and fortify, but so will we.”

  “Unsatisfactory,” Clifton agreed, “but far better than what we could have hoped for eighteen months ago.”

  “Yes indeed, Madam President,” Wingate replied. “We stand on one side of the Rift and they glare at us impotently from the other.”

  ___________________________

  Lewis and Wingate walked down the corridor away from the Council chamber, in the latter’s case, perhaps for the last time.

  “Still absolutely determined to retire, sir?” Lewis asked.

  “Absolutely. And you could still refuse, Paul. The Council can’t actually force you to become head of the fleet.”

  “And I’m sure quite a few of them would be glad if I did turn it down,” Lewis grunted. “But I’ll take it, at least for a while. There’s too much to do. Being a bona fide saviour of humanity opens a lot doors and, more importantly, treasuries.

  “I’ll only give the fleet three more years, though,” he continued. “Laura is trying to put Science Fleet back together again but she wants to let younger backs take up the load as soon as possible, then for the pair of us to spend our last years somewhere warm, an idea that I’m already finding very appealing.”

  Lewis smiled briefly to himself before adding: “Three years will be enough to get the work started on the Rift Line. After that, better for the old to make way for the new.”

  “The diplomats are already seeking rapprochement with the Aèllr and Mhar,” Wingate said. “The Aèllr are convinced that the Worms are a threat and if they go round the Rift, it takes them straight into the Confederacy.”

  “So old enemies become new friends. Another good reason for the old to take their baggage and go,” Lewis replied. “We stood alone once and won when we should have lost.”

  Wingate smiled and nodded. Currently, the Rift Line really only existed in name. Fortifications would need to be built and infrastructure to support it. Already ship designers and intelligence officers were attempting to evaluate all the lessons of the war, and beginning to incorporate them into the next generation of warships. It was a project that would take decades, but when would it need to be completed?

  “Peace in our time, the war to end all wars: that’s always the promise but we can’t offer even that lie. Someday they will cross the Rift,” Lewis said abruptly. “In the clear up we found a working example of one of their gates and they must have got versions of our jump drive. Given time, they will cross and they won’t make the same mistakes. This is our poisoned gift to the next generation.”

  “Fifteen years at least, fifty years at most,” Wingate commented almost whimsically. “That’s how long we’ve given the next generation to prepare.”

  They’d reached the main entrance to the building. Wingate paused at the top of the steps and looked up into the sky.

  “You’re right Paul. Here we are at the end of one war and already planning for the next – a poisoned chalice indeed. In imperfect solution in an imperfect universe, but what we did was our best.”

  THE END

  Glossary

  Aèllr: Carbon based oxygen breathing mammalian life form. First intelligent alien life form encountered by humanity.

  Aèllr Confederacy: Located approximately coreward of human space, a political union of the eight major and six minor planets occupied by the Aèllr race. Population: 32 billion (approx.), Government type - democracy.

  Baden Base: Battle Fleet instalation located at the edge of the Landfall system. Its destruction is generally considered to mark the beginning of the Nameless War.

  Battleship: Large gun armed ship, carrying heavier armour and guns than any other category of vessel. In human service this vessels frequently serve as fleet flagships.

  Centaurs: The human designation for a pre-interstellar spaceflight species now considered extinct. Believed to have been destroyed by the Nameless.

  Chaff: Standard passive counter measure, aluminium strips which give false returns or swamps radar systems. Chaff bursts are usually deployed by rocket.

  Coms (Communication) Laser: Low powered lasers used for communications at short range (up to 70,000 kilometres). Standard feature of all human starships, coms lasers transmission can not be jammed.

  Contact War, The: Humanities first interstellar conflict, fought against the Aèllr Confederacy. Largely fought with Earth's solar system the conflict ended inconclusively with the Treaty of Mars. Battle Fleet was founded during the early stages of the conflict.

  Cruiser: A category of vessel that can be loosely defined as the largest ships to be built in significant numbers. This classification is given to the workhorse of every fleet.

  Dryad System: Human controlled solar system close to Mhar Union and several of the Tample Star Nations. Dryad Two is borderline habitable and has large Zillithium deposits.

  EMD, Emergency Message Drone: Missile sized drone equipped with a one use jump drive and a small transmitter. EMD’s are for the vast majority of ships the only means of communicating across interstellar distances.

  Fire Control: A ship's weapon control systems.

  Governing Council: Political leadership of Battlefleet. The council is composed of rotating eight members, two from each continental block.

  IFF, Identify Friend or Foe: Identification system designed for command and control. It enables military and civilian- interrogation systems to identify aircraft, vehicles or forces as friendly and to determine their bearing and range from the interrogator.

  Jump Drive: The system used to travel between star systems. Not technically a faster than light drive but allows a ship to generate an artifical wormhole between two points in Real Spa
ce. The drive may not be used within the region around a planet or other large spacal body known as the Mass Shadow.

  Jump Space: Term given the region within a jump conduit through with space vessels pass.

  Landfall System / Planet: Human controlled system. Initially called Fortune, the system is now largely known by the name of its principal planet. An Earth-like body, Landfall has been conquored by the Nameless.

  Lazarus Systems: Collection of systems which automatically reroute power and command signals around damaged connections, allowing human warships to remain functional with even severe damage.

  Light Speed: 299,792,458 metres per second.

  Local Control: Targeting systems built directly onto each gun mount. These systems are a back up measure should a ship's main Fire Control be knocked out. They lack both the sensitivity and accuracy of main fire control.

  Mass Shadow: The 3 dimensional area surrounding a planet or large spatial body that prevents a vessel from making transit into or out of Jump Space. The size or ‘depth’ of a mass shadow is proportional to the mass of the spatial body generating the shadow.

  Mhar: Carbon based oxygen breathing mammalian life form. Third sentient race to be encountered by humanity. Technologically inferior to humans in most respects. Relations between Humanity and the Mhar are friendly. Government type: centrally planned democracy.

  Nameless, The: Interstellar capable species about which almost nothing is known due to their hostility to all other sentient life. The Nameless appear to exclusively favour missile armament and use a form of jump drive different from that of any of the other known races.