Exodus: Empires at War: Book 3: The Rising Storm

by Doug Dandridge

  “Are you sure, Admiral,” called out the ship’s Captain, Broderick Stafford, who had been in on the circuit.

  “By the Goddess I am sure,” said Montgomery, a broad smile cracking her ebony face. “That is them.”

  “But there’s no battle cruiser,” said the Captain, doubt in his voice.

  “That was one of the catastrophic translations we heard,” said the Admiral, putting a hand on the Com Officer’s shoulder. “Send a message to the rest of the force. They are to follow Galahad. Detach one destroyer to report to Commodore Basingee’s force and give them our projected course and destination.” The Admiral hurried from the com station and back to her own chair, linking into the ship’s comp and pulling up a map of the region. “Captain Stafford. Plot a course for that destroyer based on its heading, and get us there at best speed.”

  “Yes ma’am,” said the Captain, his voice tone showing that he wasn’t sure it was the correct decision, but unwilling to argue with the woman who had played hunches so many times in the past and been proven correct.

  HIMS Sir Galahad reoriented herself and started pulling space on a new vector, building up speed at the rate of three hundred gravities acceleration. The other ships of the force followed her course as soon as they received their orders, minus one destroyer which had orders to seek out the other scout force. Soon the information was disseminated among the entire crew of the eight million ton ship, and excitement grew as they realized they were on the track of the future Emperor, to bring him to safety from the jaws of death.

  * * *

  “But we’re only three days away from Conundrum,” said Prince Sean Lee Ogden Romanov in an exasperated voice.

  “And they are less than a day behind us, your Majesty” said Captain Maurice von Rittersdorf, feeling like he had beaten this horse before. “I am not willing to place our escape on the pure chance of a meeting with Imperial warships. The only thing I can count on is this ship and my crew.” The Captain looked around the conference room for a moment, seeing the unbelieving stares on the faces of his officers that he was talking to the Monarch as he was. But if I don’t, then who will. And what am I to do if we are caught in open space by a force we don’t have a chance of fighting? Eject him in a life-pod, and hope they don’t find him?

  “I still think we have a better chance making for the Sector Headquarters and hoping a patrol comes our way,” said the uncrowned Emperor, giving the Captain a forceful glare.

  “Are you ordering me to make a move that I consider unwise and detrimental to the mission?” asked von Rittersdorf, returning the glare.

  “Of course not,” said Sean, shaking his head.

  “So you will allow me to make the decisions that will make the difference between you living or dying?” said the Captain.

  The Prince sat there for a moment, not saying a word, and von Rittersdorf worried for a moment that the royal child might actually change his mind and give an order that would doom Dot MacArthur and all who sailed aboard her, including the Royal Personage.

  “I would not think of it,” said the prince, enunciating each word. “I do not agree with the decision, but it is your ship, and I am not in your chain of command.”

  Not yet, thought the Captain, realizing that if he succeeded in this mission this young man would soon be giving commands that would result in the life or death of millions of soldiers, spacemen and marines.

  “Good,” said the Captain, turning to look at his Navigator. “So what do you have for us, Lieutenant?”

  “This system,” said the young officer, no older than the prince, pointing at the holo that had sprung to life over the table. “Zeta Alpha Three Seven Nine.” The holo zoomed in to show a small red dwarf star of unremarkable status. The holo zoomed again to show the system. “While it doesn’t look like much, it serves our purposes in several respects. First, there are no known habitations, so no civilians will be put at risk. Second, this system is a true junkyard. Three asteroid belts, twelve gas giants, and almost three hundred moons. If we can’t disappear here, I’m afraid we can’t anywhere.”

  “What about this outer belt?” asked the Captain, pointing at the system feature on the holo.

  “That’s the prize, as far as this system is concerned,” said Lieutenant Kenyata, the navigator. “Of course it is very spread out, being as it is many astronomical units from the star. But there are a lot of rocks, both metallic and carboniferous, in that ring, as well as several concentrations of asteroids. Very unusual. And then there is its most useful feature, as this belt is almost right on top of the hyper limit.”

  “Wow,” said Lieutenant JG Giovanni Lasardo, the ship’s tactical officer. “That’s perfect.”

  “Indeed,” said the Helmsman, Lieutenant SG Katerina Stepanov, looking at the holo like she was already taking the ship through that space.”

  “It will depend on what we find as we exit hyper,” said Kenyata, pointing a finger at the zoomed holo and indicating a cluster of rocks and iceballs. “According to our best info, from records of the last system scan, we should find this cluster close to our exit point.”

  “And how recent is that scan?” asked the Captain, remembering that these mostly useless systems were only visited by the Survey Corps about once a decade, unless something of interest was found. There were just too many stars in Imperial Space, hundreds of millions of them. Only a couple hundred thousand of them had any interest to industry or science. Only about ten thousand had either habitable planets, or planets that could be terraformed to become so.

  “Unfortunately about ten years ago,” said the navigator, shaking his head. “It is scheduled for a visit this year, but with a war coming…”

  No telling when it will be visited by a survey team again, thought the Captain, staring at the holo. “But things should not be much different without some outside influence,” said von Rittersdorf. “After all, celestial mechanics are very predictable with enough data points, and the system has been visited dozens of times. Good work, Lieutenant,” he said, nodding to the Navigator. “This is better than I thought we could come up with.” He looked over at the Helmsman. “How much vector change will be needed, Katerina?”

  “I would think no more than five degrees,” said the young officer, looking at the holo while she input information on her flat comp. The holo moved out, and a line connected the MacArthur and the system.

  “Then let’s get to it,” said the Captain, looking over and seeing that the prince seemed to want to say something. “Yes, your Majesty?”

  “And what do we do after we get to this dream system?” asked the young Monarch.

  “Why, then we disappear,” said the Captain. “Not the noblest thing to do, but probably the smartest.”

  “And it their sensors are better than ours, and they catch wind of us?”

  “Then we run again,” said the Captain with a smile. “We know their screens give them an advantage in hyper, but I think we just might be able to outrun them in normal space.”

  “I leave it in your hands, Captain,” said the Monarch, standing and giving the officer a short bow. Then he was out of the room.

  The Captain looked at the door to the conference room for a moment, then gestured that the meeting was over. I feel for him. Finding out that his entire family is gone, then losing his ship and all his shipmates on the same day. And now with nothing to do. Von Rittersdorf sat there and thought for a moment. He had really not chosen the role of mentor to an Emperor, but now he was stuck with it. And there must be something the young man could do to take his mind off the here and now, and the recent past.

  * * *

  This is as bad as being aboard Sergiov, thought Sean, looking at the trio of Marine guards who had been set as his nursemaids. That thought brought on another wave of sorrow. Gorbachev. Bettencourt. Commander Popodopolus. Captain Ngano. All gone.

  Sean hit the lock as soon as the door closed behind him, then plopped onto the couch that took up much of the small living area. He bur
ied his head in his hands, feeling the tears begin to flow from his eyes. Mother and Father. Dimetre. Henry. All gone. Leaving me all alone. I don’t want to lead the Empire, not in a damn war. I’m completely over my head.

  A soft head butted against his arm, then butted again, and Sean dropped his hands and looked over at the silvery furred cat that meowed at him. “I’m not good company right now, Satin,” said the Emperor. The cat looked up at him and meowed again, and Sean smiled, putting a hand on the animal’s head and sliding it down to the beast’s neck. Sean kneaded the muscles of the cat, eliciting a deep purr. The cat looked at him and meowed again. “Miss your mistress” asked Sean, feeling more sorrow at the thought of Commodore Mei Lei and her crew, sacrificed so he could make his escape. How many are going to die to get me to safety? And is it worth the sacrifice?

  Sean lay back on the couch, and Satin climbed over him, then nestled in beside him. Sean smiled as he ran his hand through the cat’s fur, still wondering what he was going to do with this position he didn’t desire. Before he could think much more about his problems he dropped off to sleep, the cat purring against his body.

  * * *

  “They are slowing,” called out the Sensor Officer, looking back at the Group Leader.

  “And why would they do that?” asked the Group Leader, staring at the tactical holo that showed his ships in relation to the enemy they chased.

  “I know not, my Lord,” said the Sensory Officer.

  “Tactical Officer?” said the Group Leader, looking over at that officer.

  “One possibility would be problems with their electromagnetic screens,” said the Tactical Officer, staring at the holo. “Or they are slowing down to drop out of hyper.”

  “And why would they do that? Navigator. What is there nearby that they may head for?”

  “The only object is this red dwarf star,” said that officer, illuminating the stellar object on the holo.

  “And why would they do that?”

  “Unknown, Group Leader,” answered the Navigator, dipping a horn in a sign of confusion. “Red dwarfs are normally the most uninteresting of objects. They must know something that we do not.”

  “That would be assuredly so,” said the Helm Officer, looking over at the Navigator with an expression of scorn. “Since this is the space of these vermin.”

  “And that tells me nothing,” growled the Group Leader, giving a hand gesture of exasperation. “Navigator. Can we catch them before they drop from hyper?”

  “We could, my Lord,” said the Navigator. “Unfortunately, such a path will run us into the hyper barrier of the star.”

  And then we are pushed into normal space, and most probably destroyed, thought the commander, remembering what had happened to the larger enemy they had battled days past. And to one of his vessels as well. “When do we need to decelerate?”

  “Within the next couple of hours,” said the Navigator, looking over at the Helm Officer, who gestured agreement. “We should come out of hyper about an hour after they do.”

  “Could we take them out with missiles?” asked the Group Leader of the Tactical Officer.

  “I wouldn’t think so, my Lord,” said that officer, giving a head nod of negation. “Their electromag screens are no better than those of our ships. Much above point nine five light and their systems will be disrupted by hyperspace radiation. They would probably reach the enemy ship about the time they are dropping out of hyper, and run into the hyper barrier.”

  “So we just continue after them, and maybe get some missiles into them in normal space.”

  “That would be my suggestion, my Lord,” said the Tactical Officer.

  “Helm Officer,” said the Group Leader. “Follow that ship, and come out at the hyper limit as close as you can.” And once we have you in normal space, you will be our meat.

  * * *

  “Send the destroyers in,” ordered Rear Admiral Mara Montgomery, looking at the plot that showed the take from the lead scout vessels of the force. “All of group one.”

  The computer of course was extrapolating the view from the sparse grav wave signals coming from the rear most destroyer. It showed the two enemy super-cruisers heading toward a red star, within the sensory envelope of the destroyers. It was hoped that the battle cruisers were still out of the sensor range of the enemy. If they could see the destroyers that was not really a problem. They would probably discount the five small warships ability to successfully fight them. And they were starting to stair step down the levels of hyper to make an entrance into the system ahead.

  “What do we know about that system,” the Admiral asked her Flag Captain, Josia Greenefield.

  “It is a very cluttered system, ma’am,” said the younger man, pulling up a holo on a splitter screen. “Lots of asteroid belts, gas giants and moons. Really more than would be expected from such a small star. I bet that the captain of that ship their chasing had taken that into consideration.”

  “Makes sense,” said the Admiral with a smile. “And maybe that ship can find a way to hide long enough for us to come to its rescue.

  “Lt. Commander van Dyke,” said the Admiral, walking up behind the assistant com officer, filling in for Commander Lee so she could get something to eat and take a rest before the main action. “Send a signal to cruiser groups two and three. Order them to curve around the system to blocking positions.”

  “Yes ma’am,” said the officer, going to work on his board to send the coded signals to the ships in question.

  “Then send to the rest of the battle cruiser squadron to follow our lead,” continued the Admiral, putting a hand on the com officer’s shoulder, then turning and walking back to her chair. “Captain Stafford,” she said as the main viewer switched to a scene of the Flagship’s main bridge. “Take her in at maximum decel. When you can jump her down to VI, and then stair step in.”

  “Yes ma’am,” said the Captain, looking off the holo to call orders to his bridge crew.

  Just hold on, little destroyer, thought the Admiral as she set her forty-five million tons of warships into a plan that hopefully would bag them two enemy ships, and rescue the young man they had come to get.

  * * *

  MASSADARA SPACE, MARCH 23RD, 1000.

  “We’re getting a message from base,” called out the Com Officer. Bryce turned from where he was signing a screen carried by his yeoman and looked at the officer, asking the question with his eyes.

  “They’ve broken the Ca’cadasan code,” said the smiling officer. “A copy of the software is being downloaded now.”

  “Helm,” said Bryce to the officer, sitting there looking bored, as the ship was not moving. “Maneuver us into a position where we can best intercept the bleed from their signals.”

  “Yes, sir,” said the Helm Officer, fingers working his board as he looked over at the Sensory Officer.

  “Sending you location data now,” said that officer, her fingers blurring over her control panel.

  “Take us there slow, Helm,” cautioned Suttler. “I don’t want anything giving us away to the bastards before we have a chance to listen to their mail.”

  The Helm nodded and set the ship in motion, boosting at a mere ten gees toward the designated station. The ship was giving out appreciably no heat, all of it sucked down the wormhole instead of radiated out into space.

  Suttler looked at the plot, knowing that the enemy was mostly using tight beam transmissions from ship to ship. But even with tight beam there was some bleed off, signal missing the target and continuing into space. And the stealth vessel, almost as much spy ship as killer from the dark, had very sensitive sensors for just the purpose of picking up this bleed off, which could expand to a disk a thousand kilometers in diameter this far from the source. There would also, of course, be some broadcasts if one ship, such as a flag, wanted to send out a system wide signal.

  It took some hours to get to where they wanted to be. At ten million kilometers from that point they started to pick up signals mor
e regularly. The regularity grew as they approached the stopping point.

  “Helm,” ordered the Captain. “Maintain tracking on inhabited planet.”

  “Aye, sir,” said the officer, setting the ship to maintain a position that lined up with the planet in its orbit.

  Suttler studied the plot, noting the ships in orbit around the planet, and the big mobile station that had to be the command and control facility for the system. “Launch antennae drones,” he ordered. A moment later eight small drones separated from the ship and moved out a couple of hundred thousand kilometers, forming a ring around the vessel oriented toward the planet. Each connected with the ship through an ultralow powered laser, the whole forming a long baseline antennae that scanned the system.

  The Com Officer sat at her board, listening to the incoming traffic while the computer automatically categorized and organized it, shunting signals that could be translated off to the decryption program.

  “I’ve got something interesting here, sir,” called out the Com Officer, looking toward the Captain.

  “Put it on the screen,” said Suttler, leaning forward as the image began to form.

  A large Cacada appeared, sometimes clear, sometimes blurry with static. He looked like one in control from his bearing, and the silver and jeweled decorations on his horns. He was speaking, and it amazed Bryce how musical the language sounded despite the deep voice of the creature. It was easy to forget sometimes that these were sophisticated creatures from a long lived civilization. But still barbarians in so many ways, thought the Captain, watching as another species of sentient came into the screen for a moment to give a goblet of liquid to the Cacada, then backed away with its eyes to the floor. A definite slave species.

  The translation program started to kick in, changing the Cacada words to something a human could understand.

  “So, Low Admiral,” said the Cacada, looking thoughtfully into the viewer. “You understand your instructions?” The commanding officer of the system looked into the screen for a moment, obviously listening to the reply. “You must strike the three systems at the same time, so none of them can have a chance to warn their headquarters. Then we can hope to pick off ships as they enter the systems in singles or small groups.” Again the silence for a few moments. “The G5 star is the most important system, but don’t neglect the F6 or the K2, as they all form that protective triangle that bars our way to the truly populous worlds of the human Empire.”