New Contract (Perimeter Defense Book #3)

by Michael Atamanov

  I greeted the officers and got a discordant mumble in reply. Off to a bad start! Once, their reply to the Prince had been an elated roar. Without showing that I was disheartened by the cold reception, I began my speech:

  "The most recent intelligence from our cloaked frigates shows that the Alien fleet is still in the Hnelle system. Their reports indicate that the Aliens have one Queen; five Mammoths; one hundred seventy Behemoths; four hundred cruisers, both Sledgehammers and Chainsaws; and two thousand five hundred smaller starships. That means this must be the remnants of the very same Alien fleet we went up against in the Aysar Cluster. That is both a good thing and a bad thing. It's good in that the Aliens were not able to reinforce their heavy ship losses in the ten months since our last battle. That means their resources are, in fact, limited, and that they are not capable of replacing lost ships. What's bad is that this exact Alien fleet has already met with us in combat and demonstrated its ability to learn from mistakes. We won't be able to pull the same tricks as last time. That's why we're going to have to change tactics. Only light ships will be headed to the battle in the Hnelle system this time."

  "But that's suicide!" Someone screamed out from the depths of the hall.

  The rest of the officers started grumbling and turned to see who had been bold enough to dispute the fleet commander's decision like that. Admiral Mike ton Akad, scrolling through a list on his palmtop computer, pointed me in the right direction:

  "It's the captain of Curse-36, a total greenhorn. He graduated from the Space Military Academy just last year, and has only fought in one battle."

  While I listened to the admiral speak, another two captains loudly voiced their own objections:

  "How will we survive the six hours needed to recharge our energy drives? That's plenty of time for the Aliens to make minced meat out of us!"

  "Do you not understand that the Prince doesn't give a shit about us? We'll be there dying and distracting the Aliens, while Queen of Sin slips past the dangerous system to safety!"

  The audience began buzzing in discontent. Here, the microphone was taken up by Tamara Vuzhek, the highly-decorated captain of Warhawk-4.

  "I want to remind you all that this isn't the first time something like this has happened. Remember before the battle in the Nayal system? The Crown Prince explained clearly what is to be done with cowards," the girl exclaimed, reaching for her holster.

  "Warhawk-4, stand down!" I hurried to interfere and ease my subject’s nerves. "Let them talk. This is all understandable stuff!"

  I saw on Tamara Vuzhek's face that she did not understand. Many other officers seemed to feel the same, which is why I immediately explained:

  "The Alien Queen has one very unfortunate ability: she can attack people's minds. She must be trying to fill us, her potential victims, with a feeling of dread, hopelessness, and futility. The strong of spirit will bear such a mental attack easily, but the weak will break and give in to the suggestions. They will start to believe that the Aliens will reward anyone who joins their side. During our raid through Alien-controlled Swarm space, we had a few officers come under the Queen's sway. Fortunately, our Truth Seeker detected it before they could betray us, and they were arrested in secrecy. Now, we have another meeting with the Queen ahead of us, so it's important to pick out all those who have already given up mentally before the battle begins. It's better to replace these people with more reliable officers than to have them stab us in the back later. So, ladies and gentlemen, who among you thinks this situation is hopeless? Who among you supposes that Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky has nothing better to do than send his most experienced and loyal people to their deaths?"

  I took a close look at the silent crowd. No one was making a peep or voicing their doubts about the forthcoming battle. I could relax a bit. The rebellion was suppressed before it even got off the ground. The officers were listening to their commander with rapt attention once again. I continued my speech:

  "And now, let's talk about another thing I heard said – that 'the Prince will flee on his yacht.' We won't point fingers now at the one who said it, but let him think long and hard on whether these thoughts truly belonged to him, or were inspired by the enemy. If I wanted to run, I could have done so long ago on a cloaked frigate. But, as you see, I remained here with you. And one more thing, I'll be going into battle on one of your ships, so I wouldn’t be able to flee even if I wanted to."

  Standing change. Empire Military faction opinion of you has improved.

  Present Empire Military faction opinion of you: +18 (warm)

  Oh! Better already. I was on the right path. Now was the time to build on my success.

  "No one in the Empire has such vast experience fighting Aliens as the veterans gathered in this hall. Sure, we may no longer fly under the banner of the Perimeter Sector Eight Fleet, but our experience and abilities remain as they ever were! We have defeated the Aliens in Hnelle two times before. We have met with the Queen, and come up against even larger enemy armadas in the past. If anyone can take the Aliens in Hnelle, we can! We've never been defeated! The whole Unatari star system has placed their hopes on us. The lives of sixty-three million people are hanging in the balance. It’s our job to save them. My mission is to figure out how we can do that. Your mission is to practice our new approaches and tactics over the next two days until they become second nature. They are what will help us survive the forthcoming battle. Notice here that I didn't say 'win,' as I myself do not yet know how to destroy the Queen. But I did say 'survive.' We are capable of not dying and thinning out the Alien fleet a good deal. That much I promise you!!!"

  Standing change. Empire Military faction opinion of you has improved.

  Present Empire Military faction opinion of you: +19 (warm)

  Global standing increase. Current value: -51

  "Crown Prince and fleet officers, I beg my and Captain Corwin's forgiveness for our late arrival!" Katerina ton Mesfelle and her husband were panting as they flew into the hall. "Georg, we've been under way since early morning. We wanted to apologize for yesterday. We went to the palace, but they said you were gone. It was no simple task finding another shuttle that could take us into orbit. But we still listened to your speech. The first assistant from One-Eyed Python arranged for us to watch remotely. Cousin, I beg of you, take me with you into battle! I miss real action so bad! I promise to make my report on the battle so riveting that viewers the Empire over will be nervously biting their nails with their eyes peeled and their faces pressed against the screen!"

  I smiled and, slowing down a bit, nodded in agreement. My cousin gave a joyous yelp and threw herself at me, hanging off my shoulders. Based on the laughter that rang out in the hall, no one even remembered the atmosphere of dread that had been reigning here before. The officers had a very good reaction to our old war correspondent’s arrival. And just then, Corwin ton Mesfelle-Ugar approached me with a goose step, and bent down on one knee:

  "Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky, it would be a great honor to me if your Highness were to choose One-Eyed Python as a flagship for the upcoming battle!"

  "I gratefully accept your offer, Captain Corwin ton Mesfelle-Ugar!"

  I extended my hand, helping the captain to his feet. I looked around at the applauding crowd and said into the microphone:

  "Now this is how we should be feeling before an encounter with the Aliens! Friends, we have just two days to prepare, so let's get to practicing. When we make our move, we can show the Queen just how serious a mistake she made bringing her troops to our system!"

  The Sector Eight Fleet

  "Georg, it’s not my fault that the Viscount got his hands on the Tivalle system!" Katerina ton Mesfelle broke the silence that had been ruling over the captain's bridge on One-Eyed Python.

  At that moment, I was sitting immersed in my thoughts, so I gave a surprised shudder before turning to look at my cousin. She repeated:

  "That’s right, cousin. I had nothing to do with it. Duke Avalle royl Anjer jumped on t
he tasty morsel as soon as he saw the chance. Asteroid ice processing plants are quite the gold mine. The Head of the Orange House appointed his only son Sivir holder of the Tivalle star system and, simultaneously, Viscount Sivir, in his capacity as manager, confirmed his own appointment. To be honest, you and I both overlooked this eventuality. The right way to have done it would have been to remove Viscount Sivir ton Mesfelle from his post in Tivalle right after his father became Orange House Head, and put someone else there to manage it..."

  "Yes, I agree. We were clearly asleep at the wheel there. By the way, where is the Viscount now?"

  Katerina looked at me somewhat strangely, as if expecting me to crack up and say I was joking. But I remained silent, and my cousin shook her head in reproach:

  "Georg, you must have stopped paying attention to politics completely. Viscount Sivir ton Mesfelle was appointed Perimeter Sector Eight Fleet Commander right after you resigned."

  I then actually did start cracking up:

  "Sivir is the Sector Eight Fleet Commander?! You've got to be kidding me! I've never seen a worse commander in my life! Last time he was entrusted to lead a group of ships, his mission was to simply bring them to the Hnelle system. But even that primitive assignment was too much for him. His own subordinates started rioting because he was such an incompetent commander. What's the deal? It seems like a strange and illogical choice."

  "Don't say that, Georg. There's a logic to this, and it's fairly elementary. Just look at the bigger picture. Think about who is first in line to the Orange House Throne. Crown Princess Inessa royl George ton Mesfelle has yet to be declared Countess, even though seven months have passed. That is very strange, and there can only be one explanation: Duke Avalle royl Anjer wants to make his own son Count, despite the fact that it circumvents the traditional succession order. After all, the title Viscount, in essence, means the oldest son of a Count. And if the position of Count is vacant, the previous one's oldest son can become the new Count under specific circumstances, jumping many positions ahead in the process. To do that, this decision must be approved by the Orange House and the Emperor.

  Now, let's say the Duke is able to put this decision through the Orange House. The deputies loyal to him would vote how they're supposed to, after all. It would have to be confirmed by the Emperor though, which is a problem. In the many-century history of the Empire, I found just eleven such instances and, every time the Viscount became Count, instead of the proper candidate, it was because that person was a great military commander. Knowing that, Viscount Sivir ton Mesfelle took the bull by the horns and made himself Perimeter Sector Eight Fleet Commander. For him, it's a quick way to the top. All he has to do is prove his courage and skill in the eyes of the Emperor."

  "Then why has Viscount Sivir made no attempts to liberate the Alien-controlled Hnelle system?" I snorted. "If he took down the Alien armada, even I would be impressed with his talent as a leader, to say nothing of the Emperor."

  Katerina smiled.

  "Viscount Sivir ton Mesfelle may not be an expert in military matters, but that doesn't make him an idiot. He only wants to use the fleet as an elevator to the top. The Viscount has no desire to risk his own life in a hopeless battle with the Aliens."

  My cousin went silent as a whole horde of people flooded into the captain's cabin. It was Captain Corwin ton Mesfelle-Ugar returning from lunch, accompanied by his senior officers. Shortly after he took his seat, the captain donned a brightly colored helmet with a microphone and began giving orders:

  "Ten minutes to warp tunnel exit. Ladies and gentlemen, let's get cracking! Take your seats. Systems check. Communications, setup a common fleet channel as soon as we enter the Hnelle system. Tactics, wait for the Crown Prince's orders."

  Corwin ton Mesfelle-Ugar turned back toward me and smiled with two rows of ideally even white teeth:

  "Crown Prince, this is my first time going into such an uneven battle. They have fifteen ships to every one of ours, and their firepower surpasses ours by two hundred to one. What I’m most surprised by, though, is that I am not feeling even an ounce of fear or doubt in the outcome! And the rest of the guys say the very same – they're in a place of surprising calm and absolute faith in your Highness's abilities."

  "I appreciate your faith in me, Corwin! But as for the ship ratios, I think it'll all be a bit easier than that. Thirty seconds before our fleet comes out of the warp tunnel, two divisions of Surprises should be bombing the Alien armada. We dug our most powerful bombs out of the Unatari Fleet arsenal just for the occasion: eight thermonuclear warheads at fifty megatons a piece, plus another twelve tenners. So, there won't be many Alien small ships around on the battle field. I'm thinking the Meteors, at least, should be totally obliterated. Alien frigates are the only ships in their fleet capable of overtaking us in pursuit. That means, if the Aliens don't have any Meteors, we'll basically be uncatchable."

  "Awesome. But don't let the stealth bombers take them all down. Leave some enemies for us," he joked, his worried expression fading into a satisfied smile.

  I decided not to reply, as not to upset my new family member. Calculations we made back in the Aysar Cluster showed that the large Alien ships would survive, so the Queen, Mammoths and Behemoths would absolutely be there to meet us. But as for the Alien cruisers, destroyers and frigates, there shouldn't be many left.

  I called the tactics officer, and set about explaining to him what I wanted to see on the tactical map: a grid centered on the Hnelle station, and markers for all types of ships with an overlaid number showing distance from One-Eyed Python. I also wanted groups of starships to be circled with different colors. Finally, I told him not to depict any trash, like debris or abandoned drones.

  "One minute to warp exit," reported our navigator.

  All the officers began taking their places. I put my hand on the control console, closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down.

  "Ten seconds to warp exit. Five, four, three, two, one, we're here! Haay-ooooo!" Corwin screamed happily.

  I didn't tell him, but his happiness was a bit misplaced. The screens were still dark, and I needed to get my bearings immediately. The light cruiser gave a slight shake, then the happiness flew off the captain's face, its place taken by incomprehension.

  "Thrusters desynchronized. Energy shields have fallen to fourteen percent. I have no idea what's going on."

  "Where's the tactical grid, you assholes?!" I shouted to the tactics officer, but he could only shrug his shoulders and punch buttons cluelessly on his nonworking console.

  "We're experiencing some technical difficulties. Some of our external equipment has failed," reported a technician over the loud speaker. "It looks like we need new antennas. It'll be three or four minutes of repair."

  Fortunately, messages started pouring in from other fleet ships, so, even blind, I had a general picture, and was starting to more or less understand the situation.

  "We came out of warp one thousand miles from the Queen! Severe background radiation detected!"

  "This is Thrush-15. We were caught in the blast. Our forward shields have fallen by a third."

  "Warhawk-11, our light-sensitive equipment has been damaged! LIDAR isn't working."

  "This is Curse-4. I confirm damage taken. Our shields have fallen by forty percent. I'm seeing lots of large pieces of debris next to the Queen. I think it's the wreckage of a Behemoth."

  I took the microphone and said in a commanding voice:

  "All ships, attention! All messages related to systems failures or ship damage should be sent over the reserve channel. The main one is getting crowded. Some of the equipment on the flagship was also damaged and is out of order. We're basically blind, and we need a few minutes to fix it. Until the technical failures are fixed, fleet command is transferred to Admiral Mike ton Akad on Curse-7. Can any other ships confirm the presence of Behemoth debris? Where are our observers? Ghosts, where are you?"

  "Commander, this is Ghost-2. I'm in position. I can see your ships twe
nty-five hundred miles from my location. The Surprises completed their mission. Their bombs landed in the very thick of the Alien fleet. After that, we weren't even able remove the armored panels from our light-sensitive equipment before one of the Behemoths burst into shards. Then, there was a whole series of powerful explosions in the center of the cloud of wreckage, and a few seconds later, you showed up on the battlefield."

  "I see. Ghost-2, what are your coordinates? All ships, warp at one hundred to Ghost-2. We can repair there and evaluate the situation."

  I signed off and took a look around. There were officers scurrying around nearby. On one of the screens, I could see a group of technicians putting space suits on, preparing to go out into space. Katerina was already making a report. She was also vigorously signaling to me, asking for video of the bomb attack on the Alien armada. When suddenly...

  "SO THAT'S WHERE YOU’VE GONE!!!" I felt a horrible burden pressing down on me. The hate-filled voice impressed itself into my brain with every word, as if stepping down into it with a high heeled shoe. "THERE'S NO ESCAPE THIS TIME. YOU WILL DIE IN THIS SYSTEM."

  "You again... I thought I already explained to you once that these kind of things won't work with me. You cannot control me, nor force me to do anything!"

  "ALL YOUR STARSHIPS ARE DOOMED TO DIE HERE IN THIS SYSTEM. BUT YOU COULD GIVE UP AND SAVE YOUR OWN LIFE."

  "You're repeating yourself," I laughed through the pain. "You'd think you might have learned by now that your methods don't work on me."

  At that, the initial wave of pressure rolled back, and I returned to my senses. Maybe the mental protection once put in by Miya was kicking in, or maybe I was able to overcome the psychological onslaught, but the intensity of the attack fell quickly.