Swords Above the Stars

by Roman Zlotnikov

  In the eyes of most of the people, whoever possessed the crown jewels was the true ruler.

  The general laughed out loud with delight. “Well, Your Majesty, that will be an unpleasant surprise for the duke.”

  As the general stopped speaking, her console flashed a warning, then began showing the lines of a message. The general frowned, reaching out to turn off the console, but suddenly froze and stared at the text appearing on the screen.

  The room fell silent.

  This was something serious.

  The general read the message to the end, then turned to look at Tera, her face covered with beads of sweat.

  “Your Majesty, the message is from the Second Outpost. A squadron of about forty pennants has appeared in the kingdom’s field of space. The ships are moving toward the Throne of the World.”

  There was silence in the room, then the girl said quietly, “Well, a series of successes is never continuous. If the duke has somehow managed to find allies from the far outskirts of space capable of sending a major force to her aid, we have only one option. To hold out to the end and die with honor.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “How soon will they reach the Throne of the World?”

  The general promptly made a calculation.

  “At the present rate? Ten days.”

  Marquis Amalia nodded.

  “The same time as the Royal Fleet if it has already left.”

  Tera rose from her seat, looked at those in the room calmly, and said, “General, I want orbital fortress Mae prepared to self-destruct in a week.”

  With those words, she left the room.

  When the girl went to her bedroom, her courage left her, and she fell on the bed, sobbing. Was it possible that all that she had endured was in vain?

  8

  The flickering screen cast a glare on the woman's skinny face as she bent over the console. A light noise came from a nearby console. The captain raised her head and studiously looked around the navigation room. The chairs at the consoles were mostly empty; their screens dark and lifeless. The cruiser was in standard flight mode, and only a duty shift was in the navigation room. Behind the captain’s back, the rustling of a heavy, sealed door could be heard as it slid open. From the corridor a sharp shaft of light illuminated the twilight of the navigation room.

  The captain looked around, and seeing who had entered, jumped out of the command chair.

  “Sit.” The guest went over to the operations scanner console and with a familiar gesture raised the screen.

  The captain fell back into her seat and looked around warily. All the officers on the duty shift stiffened. If the admiral appeared in the navigation room of the flagship of the fleet, it meant that a large shit storm was coming. What exactly could be about to happen? It was still two days to the end of the flight path.

  The captain sneaked a look at the screen. The admiral was staring intently at something on the screen, and behind her chair her massive man stood silently. Without interest, he threw lazy glances at the officers huddled over their screens. A not very pleasant thought crept into the captain’s head, but she caught herself and quickly turned away. The admiral had a sharp temper and was not very fond of anybody staring at her ‘boy for fun,’ as she called her massive man. The admiral finally got up from the console and turned to the captain.

  “Cruiser, raise the combat alarm. Get ready to leave cruise mode. Immediately after halting, the squadron is to reassemble into ‘Étoile’ order of formation. The object of attack is the Naval Museum. Activate field reflectors. Be ready to suppress enemy fire. I'll be in the command center.”

  When the door closed behind the admiral, the captain took a deep breath and shook her head in amazement. Attack the Naval Museum, that pile of old junk, by an order of formation that is only used to attack orbital fortresses? She sighed. Not to mention the fact that the admiral was in command, the captain could not remember a single occasion when orders that looked so absurd ever proved correct.

  The deputy chief of the Naval Museum watched in horror as an unidentified squadron began storming the pathetic museum facilities. The museum had only formerly been used as a fueling station—its huge fuel tanks were fitted out as exhibition halls, and historical ships that fleet command saw fit to keep for the edification of posterity were docked at the reconstructed moorings. These days none of the ships stationed here could not offer any resistance to the approaching squadron. Only a few compartments had been lovingly restored in these rusty old tins, through which guided tours usually ran, and within these compartments, most of the devices were dummies.

  She couldn’t even conduct standard checks. She could neither catch the emission levels of the engines, nor measure the voltage output of the field on the old junk at her disposable. And if she could do it—what would be the point? A cruiser, hidden behind a reflector field and approaching at quarter power appears no different from a corvette with engines running at three-quarter speed.

  Based on the orders received by the unknown squadron, their commander took the museum attack very seriously to ignore such elementary disguise. Besides, at that moment, the entire staff of the museum consisted of barely a dozen elderly naval and petty officers, armed only with personal weapons.

  The lieutenant tried again to get in contact with fleet headquarters, but the area of space was tightly covered by the overlapped reflector fields of the approaching squadron. She slammed her fist on the console of the communications system. To break through such a very dense screen she needed a planetary repeater. The deputy head of the museum turned back to the viewscreen.

  Yes, the approaching ships of the unknown squadron were assembled in ‘Étoile’ battle formation which is generally used to attack orbital fortresses or other heavily defended targets. The lieutenant, knowing she was powerless, gritted her teeth. If only she had something to counteract this evil force! Why was Eve so hard on her?

  A few minutes later, assault ships, still under the protection of the main ship’s reflector fields hovering at several miles out, began to emerge. The lieutenant watched on glumly as space marines in combat suits and carrying plasma rifles jumped down along the long tunnels and pipes of the moorings, dexterously firing off charges.

  It would be better to take measures to avoid unnecessary casualties. With the arrival of the approaching squadron she gave the standard signal for combat alarm, and now her old staff were frozen in place ready for combat. She grinned to herself. What would be left of them when they met the fire power of the armada, with hand weapons? The lieutenant reached over and turned on the intercom line.

  “Attention, deputy chief of the museum here. Enemy troops just threw out the first wave of up to eight standard assault groups. My orders are: no resistance and lay down your arms. I repeat: do not resist.”

  A few minutes later it was all over. The space marines that had seized the museum clearly belonged to the supporters of that brat princess. Most likely, the militia had seized one of the warehouses full of second-hand military equipment. When the lieutenant gave over her sword, she even laughed contemptuously. Where had they got hold of such junk? The navy had not used this type of battle suits in a dozen years, though she had to admit that these girls had acted with the skill of experienced soldiers. The officer sighed. Why bother the head with such thoughts? One way or another everything would become clear in a few minutes.

  All the museum staff had been disarmed and gathered in the conference hall. Despite all the assault holes being battened down, the life support system returning to normal pressure, and the bulkheads between the compartments being unblocked, the space marines still hadn’t raised their visors.

  They were all waiting for something.

  Finally, the conference room door swung open and a figure appeared in the doorway wearing the uniform of an admiral. The space marines stood to attention, not forgetting, however, to closely monitor their captives. Next thing, one of the oldest corporals suddenly gasped and jumped to her feet, standing in front of th
e figure that had appeared in the doorway. Majestically, the guest nodded and slowly walked towards the lieutenant.

  “I need to see one of your exhibits, Lieutenant; would you please escort me to it?”

  The lieutenant stared at the proud face, and held her breath.

  “Oh Eve, surely it can’t be…”

  The guest pursed her lips.

  “Hurry up. I have already spent too much time on your pile of rubble.” With these words, she turned and strode off.

  When the huge gate slowly parted to the side, the admiral stepped through it and stopped. Glancing at the huge empty space, she turned to the lieutenant and asked softly, “Was it here?”

  “Yes.”

  “So why did you cover it in a dome?”

  The lieutenant shrugged her shoulders.

  “The duke was afraid to draw attention to the museum, so I had to do that so that I could renovate it without stopping the flow of tourists.”

  The admiral nodded.

  “How long has it been gone?”

  “Twenty-seven hours.”

  “What is its state of readiness?”

  The lieutenant thought at first to evade the question, but the gray, watery eyes, were so ruthlessly demanding, that she shivered and told the truth.

  “I'm not sure. Commodore Danner personally undertook the renovations, and I was assigned to routine duties in the museum. I heard that the weapon systems and protection shields had been almost completely restored, but the main engines were only up to forty percent capacity.”

  The admiral again glanced at the empty dock, that not so long ago had been home to the docking bay of the last " Planet Destroyer " class battleship, and thinking to herself, she quietly muttered under her breath.

  “Clearly, we don’t have the time to catch up with it, but we still have a chance to arrive at the orbital fortress at almost the same time.” She turned to the lieutenant. “I'll leave a destroyer and a company of marines behind here. After two days they will leave you, but until then you will be under arrest.”

  The lieutenant stood to attention, “But, what Your High…”

  The guest cut her off with a gesture.

  “No, I am an admiral.”

  “Since that memorable day when I left the kingdom, all my people have called me admiral, and nothing else. I'm ready to believe in your enthusiasm and deep devotion to my person, but … only in two days’ time. Now make sure that during this time there are no incidents.” She gave the lieutenant a stern look. “And remember, the only thing that can make me return here sooner would be a fervent desire to punish any officer that caused my displeasure.” She grinned. “And I, as a rule, am self-indulgent.”

  ***

  The duke stood in the airlock, irritably tapping the boot of her battle suit on the ribbed floor, waiting for the doors to slide open. Finally, the gigantic doors shook and slowly slid apart. The duke did not wait until the door was fully open, before she stepped forward. Commodore Danner saluted sharply. Her face was beaming.

  “Your Majesty, the battleship "Power Karsaven" has arrived and is at your disposal.”

  The duke gave her a startled look and laughed mockingly.

  “Who came up with this rubbish?”

  The commodore blushed.

  “It was my idea. We just wanted …”

  The duke waved her off.

  “All right, just shut up, before you remind me of the recently deceased Branderra.”

  Danner drew back into herself completely. The duke moved ahead, her boots clattering on the deck. The commodore followed her, looking with hatred at her skinny back. She was thinking to herself, she thinks herself a ruler, but what would this blond bitch do without someone like her, Danner? The commodore gritted her teeth and shook her head. Eve, do not let her turn and see the hatred on my face. In recent years, the duke had become incredibly irritable. They passed down long corridors on flat ramps moving from level to level.

  The duke murmured, “Yes, this dish is bigger than the rest of the entire museum fleet put together.”

  “The fact is that the hangar only held the central compartment of the vessel,” replied the commodore. “The engines were part of the museum power plant, and the external gun batteries were used as rooms to accommodate the exhibition. We reassembled it after your last visit.”

  The duke gave her a quizzical look, “And before that you trembled before the old queen.”

  Danner stopped again. This time the duke felt that she had gone too far. In her mind she considered some idea to somehow mitigate the unjust reproach, but she had pushed her so violently that she had even scared herself. Finally, after the next corner they came to a sealed door, which was bigger than any door on any other ship. When it slowly slid open to one side, the duke stepped forward and stopped. They had entered a gallery encircling a huge chamber. Karsaven had been in this chamber many times, but in the past, all the space at the bottom had been filled with models of ships, huge images, exhibition stands, and layouts.

  However, now the battleship’s command and control center had been returned to its original appearance. Several dozen officers swarmed over their consoles. A small bridge led to the command deck, with a command chair set in the middle of a vast circular area, and the entire far wall held a huge visual screen. The duke clenched her fists and turned.

  Her eyes sparkled.

  “So, how did they manage to dismantle such a beauty?”

  The commodore, flattered by the duke’s sincere admiration casually replied, “Well, the cost of maintenance for this little boat was too expensive, almost as much as for an entire squadron, but …” At this point the commodore gasped, stumbling over her words after a disdainful look from the duke.

  “Shut up, I am almost drowning in the stench that pours out of your mouth.” The duke turned and strode to the bridge leading to the command deck.

  The commodore exhaled through gritted teeth and clenched her sweaty fists. A little more of this and she would throw herself on to the duke with a sword. Turning to the wall, Danner stood for several minutes to calm her nerves. Directly under the chamber she heard a chuckle and a muffled voice said, “How she was so full of herself. The duke, me and the duke, everything for the duke, and all that she did was wipe her boots with her.”

  “Serves her right, stupid cow, she plays a dangerous game. For this bitch, her subordinates are nothing but the mud under her feet.”

  “Apart from the late Agrippa.”

  “Well, she was a real bitch as well.”

  Danner, exhausted, leaned her forehead against the wall. They were strong words, but they were true. Then it occurred to her that a couple of days ago, or maybe even just an hour ago she, like her master’s obedient hound, would have thrown herself down to detain, seize, and catch any bastards, for having such seditious conversations. Yet now she was standing, leaning her forehead against the wall, and struggling to keep back the bitter tears that were ready to flood her eyes. At that moment there was an exasperated scream from the command deck.

  “Danner! Couldn’t you manage to tidy up the battleship’s engines you old bitch? How long do you think it will take me to plod all the way to the orbital fortress?”

  The commodore felt that all her efforts had been in vain. The tears flowed, splashing down her cheeks leaving a treacherous wet path. She frantically shook her head and turned to the door, pressing her hand against the admission key.

  “Danner, are you asleep or masturbating out there?”

  The commodore gritted her teeth, and not waiting until the door was fully open, she squeezed through a crack in the door, tore off her insignia and ran away.

  ***

  Tera stood next to the command chair on the platform, towering over the middle of the orbital fortress’ command and control center, staring at the big screen. Her mentor asked worriedly, “How soon will the monster reach the kill zone?”

  The general replied softly, “If it doesn’t increase speed, then twelve hours.”
/>
  “What if it can move faster?”

  The general nodded.

  “When I started my service, these things were much faster. This was probably dug out of the fleet museum. As I recall, when the rest were dismantled, one was sent there. Also, it considerably increased the size of the exhibition.”

  Surprised, Captain Amalia said, “But I was in the museum, and it looked much smaller then.”

  The general grinned.

  “Only the central part was in the hangar. Now you see it in its original form.”

  The mentor turned to the general, “So what threat is it to us?”

  The general shook her head in thought, “That depends on what condition it’s in.

  If the weapon system and protective shields are up to standard, then we can’t do anything to it or to anyone hiding behind it until it comes within a range of nine thousand miles. Also, its weapons will cause us trouble from about the same range.” The general grinned. “It was the only class of ships, which were fitted with batteries of heavy mortars.”

  Amalia added thoughtfully, “From such a distance, also supported by the Second Light.”

  Everybody peered at the screen again, where in addition to the silhouette of the huge battleship, around thirty more ships could be seen. At this, HQ Staff Major Esther sighed and murmured, “And I’ve only been Brigade Commander for two weeks.”

  The simple hopelessness in her voice startled everybody. A tense silence hung over the command center, then the little girl turned to Santana.

  “General!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty?”

  “I want you to use the fortress’ open channel and announce our situation. Everyone who wants to leave the fortress should have the opportunity to do so. Give people two hours to decide, and prepare all the shuttles.”

  Everyone froze. Then the general shrugged sheepishly, coughed, and asked, “Are we to prepare a shuttle for Your Majesty?”

  “No! The girl cut her off, and she abruptly turned and ran down the stairs and out of the control room.

  ***

  The duke sat in the command chair of the battleship and snarled angrily, looking at the center of the screen at the growing silhouette of orbital fortress Mae. Behind her stood a pale Commodore Danner.