Last of the Immortals (The Jessica Keller Chronicles Book 3)

by Blaze Ward

  Moirrey blinked as Suvi dropped the man’s corpse and stepped close.

  “Moirrey, are you hurt?” Suvi said.

  Moirrey looked up and smiled. Suvi had originally looked just like the picture on the screen, but then they’d gone all makeup and style. You could still see Suvi under there, but ya hadta know she were there to be sure. Anybody looking at her would see just another cute redhead on the street.

  “I’m fine,” Moirrey said as Suvi took her hand and pulled her upright. “We gots to get gone. Red Admiral’s coming.”

  “Agreed,” Suvi agreed. “Follow me.”

  Chapter LXII

  Date of the Republic June 16, 394 Above Ballard

  The projection didn’t lie, much as Jessica wished it did. The Imperials had split, two of them obviously running uphill to the edge of the gravity well as fast as tired legs could carry them.

  The Blackbird had turned inward, towards the planet. It was obvious what he was about. And her team was entirely out of position to stop him.

  CR–264 had turned to port to come around, so she was facing exactly the wrong direction. The flight wing was at almost a dead stop, relative. Stralsund was fixing things as fast as she could, but still getting the cobwebs out of her head. Rajput was entirely unresponsive. At least Brightoak was on something like a useful line, if she could kill enough momentum, turn fast enough, and engage in a stern pursuit.

  “Bridge, this is Keller,” she said urgently. “Come to zero–seven–five and prepare to go after him. Brightoak, get here as soon as you can.”

  “Engineering,” she continued after a beat. “Oz, I know you keep a checklist of stupid ideas that you reviewed before we started. I need everything you can give me, right now. If you have to blow the engines apart to catch that man, do it, under my authority.”

  “We shall endeavor, Commander,” Oz replied crisply.

  Jessica took a deep breath.

  “Someone send Moirrey a warning that she just ran out of time.”

  Ξ

  Furious let her fighter drift as everybody got organized. Jouster’s team had gotten hammered by the escort going by, but had managed to avoid getting killed. Uller, Vienna, and Starfall were all looking at major repair work before they flew again. Everyone else had blasted the battlecruiser and then high–tailed it for safety, waiting for the order to return to base and take a shower.

  And now that bastard Imperial was going for broke.

  The math was new. She’d never flown something with this much power before. It took a second. Helpfully, there was a little indicator on her panel that crunched the numbers faster than she could.

  Yeah, she could do it.

  It was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard of, but it was also the only way.

  “Jouster,” she said brightly. “Back soon.”

  And then she spun on her gyros, got her nose around, and redlined the engines. Bitter Kitten had taught her how to do that trick just right. It helped right now.

  “Furious,” Jouster called back, not angry, but surprised. “What are you doing?”

  “M–6 has enough power to catch him, boss,” she replied. “M–5 doesn’t. Somebody’s got to try.”

  “You’re taking on a battleship by yourself, youngster?”

  She stuck her tongue out at the universe in reflex.

  “Something like that. Dragon Lady needs all the help she can get right now.”

  “Good luck, then,” Jouster said. “The rest of you, stay close until we’re sure that the other two aren’t coming back to play. da Vinci, you’re on. Give me a hard pulse scan for lifepods, escape boats, and survivors in suits so we can help coordinate rescue teams after they get people to Rajput.”

  Furious was amazed at the amount of acceleration she was under. Around her, the little fighter actually started to shimmy until she tweaked a few settings and deadened all her drift. The Imperial battleship was a gray whale in the distance, monstrous on her scanners and slowly resolving itself into a man–made object as she watched.

  They might be able to accelerate to a stupid top speed, but she was coming in on an angle that cut his corner and would let her blast across his butt, hopefully before he started shooting at the station. What she’d do when she got there was a matter of conjecture.

  Seriously, he’s a battleship, and I’m a melee fighter. Guns and attitude? Am I really that crazy?

  “Hey, Furious,” Bitter Kitten called over the private team comm. She sounded like she was lifting a ton of weight. “Come left a couple of degrees and up a shade. Trust me.”

  Furious dialed her scanners back a notch. Bitter Kitten was behind her. Not far, but maintaining almost the same acceleration, and on a slightly different line. Furious brought her nose around the requested amount. The other woman’s inertial compensators must be overloading to hold her steady.

  “How are you doing that, Kitten?” she asked. “Those fighters can’t output that much power.”

  “They can,” Bitter Kitten slurred back slowly under the force of the weight on her chest. “If you don’t mind cooking the engines. Was going to spring this on Jouster sometime in a sim run. Red Admiral’s almost as good. ’Sides, we’re either dead or heroes at this point.”

  Furious had to agree. But nobody signed up for flight school to live forever. Missiles would be really nice about now, though.

  She watched a swarm of missiles slowly close on the battleship from both Auberon and the destroyer leader. It was a losing proposition at this speed, since he could slowly pick them off before they got to him. Still, that was energy not in the guns or the shields. Every erg might help. He had to be hurting from all the previous damage.

  Maybe it would be enough.

  She was chasing an Imperial battleship in a melee fighter.

  But at least she had friends.

  Chapter LXIII

  Imperial Founding: 172/06/16. Ballard system

  Emmerich blinked and actually checked the numbers on his readout a second time. Auberon was somehow closing the gap, chasing him from astern as he went full speed. He would not have believed that that class of vessel had that much power available. That went double considering that it had been through a jousting pass with Petrograd.

  Jessica Keller might actually catch him before he was able to pulverize the station and kill the Sentience.

  For a mad moment, he considered halting his acceleration and letting the woman catch him. If his crew had trained for it, now would be the exact moment to pull the trick the little destroyer Rajput had done on him at Sarmarsh IV, killing the engines and spinning in place to race backwards at full speed with all the guns pointed aft to engage Auberon. That was what the moment demanded.

  Alas, to do so would be to court destruction right now. He might kill the carrier and the woman, but the destroyer leader Brightoak would be able to catch him if he did that. After everything else, to die so ignominiously, on the verge of escape, would be the final insult to his crew and their loyalty. And especially to his Emperor.

  To add insult to injury, launching missiles backwards was almost as futile as Aquitaine launching them at him. Amsel was moving so quickly now that the missiles would have to come to a dead stop relative, in order to lunge at Auberon, giving her ample opportunity to swat them down like annoying insects.

  And damage had reduced the throw to only three tubes right now. It would probably be possible to repair at least two of the launching systems, but to do so would divert damage control resources that were currently keeping the shields and engines running as he raced inwards.

  Perhaps, he could swing around after the station was destroyed?

  No. Best to leave well enough alone. He was without his frigates and in terminal danger in this vicinity.

  The local defense fighter squadron included a pair of small patrol cutters, as well as a dozen fighters. They could not catch him on this path and at this speed, but his vessel could not survive many more encounters with that much firepower at close range.
<
br />   “Navigation,” Emmerich said sternly. “Time to engagement range.”

  “Four minutes, Admiral,” the pilot replied instantly. “We will remain in functional range with the primaries for approximately three minutes before we begin to power out of a close orbit and set course for the edge of the gravity well.”

  “Very good, man,” he said. “Maintain.”

  It would be close. Primaries did an amazing amount of damage against unshielded hulls, but the station was huge. It would be like lancing a boil, hoping to open the skin of the place up. Fortunately, he could send missiles ahead of him to keep the defenders busy. Not enough to succeed, most likely, but it never hurt to try.

  “Missile officer,” Emmerich continued. “Begin launching your missiles at Alexandria Station now. Fire at will, as fast as you can reload and plot courses. Do not wait for the order to fire.”

  “Acknowledged, Admiral.”

  Yes. The Sentience, at least, would die today.

  Chapter LXIV

  Date of the Republic June 16, 394 Above Ballard

  Jessica had heard about Tomas Kigali’s run into Ballard orbit. For actual velocity, she had long since blown by his mark for violating acceptable orbital safety speeds. It was a good thing that there were no other craft in orbit right now.

  Very little chance of an orbital collision.

  Pity the militia’s station had no missile turrets. A little offense right now would be nice, instead of all the defensive batteries protecting it against pirates and raiders.

  Something in her projection got her attention.

  “Enej,” she called out to the flag centurion. “What are those two maniacs doing?”

  Most of the flight wing was much farther up–orbit, protecting Stralsund and Rajput and looking for survivors. Two of them, however, were actually overhauling the two big warships.

  Her flag centurion actually turned to look at her and mutely shrugged.

  She checked the icons.

  Bitter Kitten and Furious.

  Yes, she should have known. Jouster might have gotten most of the crazy knocked out of his flying. These two seemed to have swept it up when nobody was looking. Like eating your enemy’s heart for power.

  Still, it was another blade in her hand. Now, to use it.

  “Tactical, this is Keller,” she said.

  “Tactical,” Tamara replied instantly.

  “I’m sending you an engagement solution that includes Bitter Kitten and Furious. Launch the two remaining Archerfish–Threes along this arc and prepare to go to guns with Amsel.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “Acknowledged and programmed, Commander,” Tamara said.

  Okay, one down.

  “Flag, this is Auberon,” Denis said suddenly into her private comm. “Brightoak has just gone ballistic.”

  She checked the icon on the side of her projection. Brightoak was slowing down. No, she was remaining at the same speed, and everyone else was still under power, slowly pulling away from the destroyer. Two missiles launched, but they were nothing more than an insulting gesture at this point.

  “Brightoak, this is the flag,” Jessica said. “What is your status?”

  “Flag, Brightoak,” Robbie Aeliaes replied quickly. “We’ve suffered an engine event. I’ve shut everything down until we can stabilize and make repairs. If he slows down enough, I’ll be able to fire at him, but no more chasing until we fix things.”

  “Can you make a stable orbit?” Jessica asked.

  “Eventually,” he replied. “For now, we’ll definitely miss the planet and everything in orbit. If the Red Admiral comes back for more trouble, we’ll be there.”

  “Roger that, Robbie,” Jessica said. “Be safe.”

  “Will do. Make sure you catch that bastard, Jessica.”

  She closed the channel. There was nothing more to say at that.

  Two years, no, nearly three years coming, if you counted back to Third Iger.

  The two of them had been headed towards a confrontation like this. Now it just remained to see which of them would survive.

  Ξ

  “Hey, Kitten,” Furious said, watching her scanners closely. “Is the Blackbird slowing down?”

  It had sucked, losing Brightoak. That was a whole lot of firepower to suddenly leave on the bench.

  “Hang on, Cho,” her wing leader said.

  Furious guessed she had bipped over onto the command channel to ask the dragon lady.

  “That’s an affirmative, Furious,” Bitter Kitten said a few moments later. “Looks like the Red Admiral realized that we just lost our sword arm.”

  “We’re still gonna blow right by him. Should we slow down?”

  “Negative,” Bitter Kitten said. “We’ll stay on this track, do your rotation–on–the–gyros trick, and then stand the fighters on their asses at full thrust and let him walk right by us while we’re firing.”

  “Sounds stupid, Kitten.”

  “You want to live forever, kid?”

  Chapter LXV

  Date of the Republic June 16, 394 Alexandria Station, Ballard

  It were like being in one of those bad nightmares you couldna wake from, running trapped down a long hallway, waitin’ for the bogey–man to jump out and git her.

  Moirrey glanced down.

  At least, if it was a dream, it weren’t the went–to–school–without–any–clothes–on–today dream. That would just kinda suck double right now.

  Suvi’d obviously built herself a body that didn’t get tired. She were jogging lightly down one of the long halls, not the least bit winded, while a too–damned–old–fer–this twenty–six year–old engineer huffed and labored along to keep up.

  Definitely going back to jogging around the flight deck in the morning. This just sucked.

  Little miss perfect boobs and perfect butt over there didn’t help.

  “They’re only perfect because I got to design them that way,” Suvi said tartly. “There are things you could do…”

  Oh, crap. And now we’re muttering out loud apparently, as well.

  “Still no fair,” Moirrey said defensively as she jogged.

  “Yeah, but you don’t have the whole galaxy looking to kill you, either, pipsqueak,” Suvi said, perhaps a touch harshly.

  But could you blame the woman? The Red Admiral had come near clear across space to blow this place up.

  They came to a hatch that separated them from the next ring out.

  “Wouldn’t the poles be closer than the equators?” Moirrey gasped as she put her hands on her knees and tried to breathe.

  “Yes,” Suvi replied calmly. “Would you care to run up ninety flights of stairs? I’m sure as Hades not getting into an elevator when it might get stuck because the fabric of the station twisted. Plus, most of the remaining escape systems are located on the equator. Station crew and university staff tended to blow free from the poles.”

  Moirrey shrugged as much as she could without actually removing her hands from her knees. She thought she sounded like a badly tuned land vehicle at a stop light. Felt like one, too.

  “We’ll get there, Moirrey,” the perfect, beautiful, Irish–babe android said warmly.

  Moirrey gave up trying to hate her. It were too much effort. Especially after all the crap she’d been through today.

  Suvi turned and placed her hand on the access controls.

  “This was so much easier when I could do it telepathically, you know,” she said with a wry smile.

  Around them, under them, engulfing them, an earthquake snuck up.

  Moirrey felt her face take on a panicked look.

  At least, it were a thumping shock and not a roller.

  Oh, double crap. That were incoming fire. Red Admiral’s here. We’re outta time.

  The hatch moved open about a hand–span and froze with a grinding squeal and a bit of smoke. The same shock as wrenched the door dumped her on her butt on the cold deck.

  Suvi barely noticed, of course.


  Moirrey watched a moment of decision come over the android–babe’s face as they locked eyes.

  Suvi nodded, mostly to herself, and reached a hand through the gap to grab onto the metal. She placed her other hand flat on the doorway and braced her feet.

  Moirrey liked to have swallowed her tongue when Suvi flexed those petite shoulders and perfect hips, and the door moved, grinding slowly, metal on metal, until the gap about tripled and something hung. Nothing moved after that.

  Suvi turned and smiled down at her, offering a hand up that nearly lifted her clear off the deck.

  “Better?” Suvi asked, glancing at the opening. “You can fit through without any boob–squish. It’s going to be a little more painful for me.”

  She thrust Moirrey sideways to the gap and then waited as the engineer slid through.

  Moirrey slid through easily and then looked back as Suvi started to emerge.

  Yup, major boob–squishage.

  “So does that hurt?” Moirrey asked carefully, pointed at the taller woman’s chest. This were all new ground. “And how did you open the door? Your design looked human.”

  “It is human, Moirrey,” Suvi replied as she twisted painfully and got her other breast clear.

  She reached out a hand and took Moirrey’s in hers, tugging her lightly along as they continued down the hallway.

  “All of my external parts can pass for human.”

  “All of them?” Moirrey asked, surprised.

  Wow, the design really were human. Androids could blush.

  “Yes. All of them,” Suvi said quietly, picking up the pace. “I even have a device in my chest that mimics a heartbeat and a pulse.”

  “And the door?”

  “Moirrey,” Suvi continued, suddenly dead serious. “I’ve been alive for over six thousand years. There have been a lot of people who wanted to kill me over that arc of time. I’ve survived on luck and good friends, like you. And I have given this planning a tremendous amount of consideration over the decades. There was no reason at all to limit my infrastructure to merely human, so I did not.”