Victors

by T. R. Cameron

  For a moment, the admiral looked vulnerable as he ran his hands through his shock of white hair and blew out a breath. He shook his head and with a clear effort reclaimed the role of the impenetrable Commander-in-Chief of humanity’s forces. His voice came out in a harsh growl. “Begin the countdown. Godspeed. See you at the staging area. Wilder out.”

  A moment later, Admiral James Okoye appeared on the main screen. “Naval force two, you’re under my command. Our flagship is the Chicago. My orders stand unless superseded by Admiral Wilder. Are there any questions at this time?”

  Cross waved at Fitzpatrick to connect to the Chicago. After addressing several others, Okoye gave an audible sigh and said, “Yes, Captain Cross?”

  “Will we be integrating units of the AAN Navy into our force, Admiral?” Okoye looked momentarily surprised, as if he’d assumed a more annoying question would be on the way. Cross grinned to himself.

  “Negative. We’ve decided that for the initial thrust, they’ll operate as a separate unit under their own control. However, Admiral Wilder is coordinating with the admirals in charge of Force One, Force Two, and the AAN ships to direct the overall strategy.” He answered several other questions, and at the appointed time said, “The countdown is now below five minutes. Make your final preparations and get underway on time, or I’ll personally kick your asses down the length of your ships when we arrive at the staging area. Okoye out.”

  “Now that’s what I call a motivational speech,” Marcus Walsh quipped. The comment sent the bridge crew into a spasm of soft laughter again, and Cross leaned back in his chair. He typed a quick note to Kate that said, “Stay safe, Red. See you on the other side.”

  And then, in groups and singles, the last, best hope of humanity tore into the unreality of tunnel space, bound for its final engagement with the Xroeshyn.

  Chapter Three

  He’d just stepped out of the shower when the intercom sounded. He dripped across the room and hit the button to answer. “Cross.”

  “Captain, we’ve received orders from the Chicago to drop out of tunnel space in five minutes.”

  “On my way.”

  Two minutes later, he was in the captain’s chair reviewing the message. “It appears there’s a colony under attack in our path, and the admirals want us to do something about it.”

  “Sounds like a fun time,” enthused Marcus Walsh from the weapons station.

  “Let’s hope. Lee, make it happen.” Moments later, the ship tore back into normal reality. “Report,” he said.

  “We’re in the Andragan system, Captain,” replied Matthews from tactical. “There are six planets, and our colony is on the third.”

  “Time to get there?”

  “Roughly eight minutes. But we have company, both good and bad.”

  On the main display, a battle schematic of the area appeared. On it were two vessels marked in the red outline, delineating enemy ships. Near the Washington was the blue icon of a friendly, and underneath it the designation Pandora.

  Cross flicked the switch on the arm of his chair that would connect him. “Kate, status?”

  “Ship shape and ready to rumble,” she replied. “What do you know?”

  “I know a colony on the third planet is under attack, and I know there are two ships full of ugly winged bastards that need killing. What do you know?”

  “The Phoebe signaled with the information that multiple colonies are under simultaneous assault. Many of them, including this one, are deep within our own territory. The admiralty believes they’re trying to distract us from our assault on their home planet.”

  “Seems to be working,” Cross replied.

  “Only in part. Most of the force is still on the way to the rally point. It’s just the luckiest ships that got pulled out for these engagements.”

  “Are you sure you mean lucky?”

  “It’s good enough for now, anyway. If they really only have two ships here, I’d consider that very lucky indeed.”

  The Pandora and the Washington fell into formation and blasted for the colony planet. As they neared, their sensors revealed new information. “There are forces on the ground, closing from four directions on the settlement, Captain,” reported Flores from the sensor station.

  “Dammit,” observed Cross. He hit the buttons to connect him to a particular set of cabins on one of the lower decks of the ship. “Saint? Sinner?”

  Almost instantly, Sinner’s soft Irish accent replied, “Yes, Captain?”

  “Colony under attack on the surface. Mount up.”

  Her tone hardened. “Affirmative. We’ll be launch ready in ten.” The channel died, and Cross shook his head at the always amazing ability of the Washington’s Marine contingent to move from relaxation to action.

  He reconnected to the Pandora. “Kate, we’re sending down the Marines. It’d probably be good for you to ride shotgun and provide support on the ground.”

  “Affirmative. One day maybe you’ll be important enough to have a ship that works in atmosphere, Cross.”

  “Doubtful. So, you better just plan to stay close by.”

  His reward was a laugh cut off by the static hiss of the closed channel.

  “Flores, Matthews, are you ready to brief the Marines?” Both officers answered in the affirmative, and he turned to look over his shoulder. “Fitzpatrick, make sure they know the briefing is coming in forty-five seconds.”

  He sat back while his crew went about their tasks, wishing just for a second, he could ride the shuttle down to take part in the ground battle. However, he well knew that a gulf of skill and ability separated him from the lowest-ranked Marines, and even from Kate’s non-Marine aptitude. His own skills were better suited for the three-dimensional playing field of space combat. His mind wandered to thoughts of what nasty surprises might await them when they reached the enemy’s home system. Then the briefing began, and he focused his attention to listen.

  Flores’s voice was devoid of emotion. “The settlement is continuing to send out its distress call, but it’s barely penetrating the signal blockade that encircles the planet. We’re not sure how they’re blocking signals, but we’ll deploy communication drones to support your action. Enemy forces are closing from each of the four cardinal directions. The colony itself is square, with a large curtain wall and gun emplacements at the corners. It doesn’t have a military contingent since it’s so far back from our expansion line. Elements of the police force, all ex-soldiers, will be acting in its defense.”

  Matthews picked up when Flores paused. “We’ve spotted a pair of enemy ships in the atmosphere. Our sensors are having resolution issues, again most likely because of signal distortion field, so we cannot be positive.”

  Kate’s voice interrupted. “Pandora says there are signs of more but agrees there are at least two. Plus, she caught an image of heavy weapons accompanying the ground troops.”

  Matthews nodded and picked up again. “You’ll deploy in two shuttles. Transit to the planet will take roughly eight minutes, so there should be an opportunity to revise the assault plan on the way down.”

  Flores said, “Any questions?”

  Saint’s voice, calm and cultured as always, asked, “Any special circumstances?”

  Cross replied, “None, Gunnery Sergeant. You’re cleared to use any tool in your arsenal for the protection of the colony. Prisoners are entirely optional.”

  “That’s music to a Marine’s ears, Captain. We’re boarding now and should be ready for launch in two minutes or less.”

  He took a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly. He activated a private connection to the Pandora. “Keep them, and yourself, safe, Kate.”

  “You know it. You make sure those two in space don’t mess with us.”

  “Count on it.” He watched as the countdown clock ticked to a minute and a half. “Do you think this is a distraction that’ll hurt us in the long run?”

  Kate’s voice sounded thoughtful. “I think once again the aliens are testing our
commitment to individual lives when compared to strategic goals. For good or bad, we’re not hard enough to abandon our people to death without at least making an effort.”

  “Do you think they are?”

  “There’s no reliable way to know. They’ve shown both a willingness to die in service of their cause, and other moments in which they valued their lives enough to run from a victory when it turned into a possible defeat.”

  Cross nodded. She wasn’t telling him anything he hadn’t figured out for himself. “I guess the real test will be to see how they react when we’re in their backyard, instead of the other way around.”

  “Agreed. So, let’s get this done quickly, so we can get back to our main task, shall we, Ace?”

  “Sounds good, Red.” He hit the right toggles to speak to everyone involved in the operation. “Shuttles are free to launch. The Pandora will protect you during descent and support you on the surface. In the meantime, the Washington will go blow some holes in the enemies flying around the planet.” On the main screen, he saw the Xroeshyn ships adjusting course to engage him.

  He gave a grim smile. “Let’s all go do what we do best. Cross out.” He drew a path on his personal display and linked it to helm, tactical, and weapons. “Walsh, how about we get this party started?”

  Chapter Four

  Emperor Kraada Tak strode forward, his strength and confidence clear in each step. Behind and slightly to his right his seneschal followed, a slight limp the only evidence of the grievous wounds he’d taken only months before. On the opposite side, shrouded in her dark cloak, his personal protector, assassin, and closest confidant matched his stride. He flicked his gaze toward her and caught the glint of light from her recessed eyes and noted the way the fabric folded at points around her waist. He pictured her hands gripping the weapons riding at her belt. With these two at his sides, he had every reason for confidence.

  “There’s little doubt in my mind that we have traitors within,” he growled.

  “Traitors?” asked Chanii. “Feeding information to the humans?”

  He moved his head in a negation. “No. Not that extreme. Nonetheless, I’m certain several of my commanders are lying to me.”

  “Politics,” rasped the assassin in a derisive tone. “Name them, and the risk will be removed before the next dawn.”

  He bared his teeth in a fierce smile. “Not yet. They may prove useful later as misinformants. Or hostages. Or examples.”

  The seneschal cleared his throat. “Do you intend upon making an example this day, Emperor?”

  He hadn’t considered it but allowed himself to do so for a moment. He spun out several scenarios but rejected each as premature. “Not today, or not at this meeting, at any rate. Keep your eyes and ears open. Remain vigilant against the possibility of treachery.”

  “Yes, Emperor,” the seneschal answered. Variin nodded within her cowl.

  As they reached the end of the hall that connected the palace, the cathedral, and the Planetary Defense Center, he stumbled without warning and dropped to one knee. His hands flew to his face as if to defend against the burning pain that stabbed through his skull. His breath hissed out in fury as he fell into the mental techniques that the best healers in the church had been teaching him.

  After several moments, he’d pushed the agony far enough into the background to stand. His escorts hadn’t reacted, both aware of this private hell he entered at random times. In his darkest fears, he regarded it as a punishment from the gods for not moving as rapidly as they demanded—a promise of the eternal torment awaiting him.

  Most of the time, he attributed it to overwork, to having to coddle too many bureaucrats, and to the presence of the eightfold-cursed traitors within his forces.

  He straightened finally and squared his shoulders with a deep breath. “Let us proceed.”

  The seneschal moved ahead to open the door into the most secure portion of the center. Four guards stood in the small antechamber, two with their backs along the wall upon which he entered. The other pair flanked the exit that led through the opposite wall. Each held a targeting device, and red dots appeared on the seneschal’s chest as he proceeded the others into the space. The mechanical whir of the rifles in every corner filled the room as they swiveled to lock in on the target markers.

  “Stand down the weapons,” he ordered, then stood with his arms crossed while they whirred back to a neutral position, pointing away from the doors. “Move to secondary locations,” he continued, and the guards all moved out of reach of their targeting devices, which were mounted to the wall. “Disarm,” was the next command, and each of the four set his personal sidearm on the ground. “Now turn.” Each did, placing their hands atop their heads. The seneschal stepped forward into the center of the room, took a final look around, and said, “It’s safe to proceed.”

  Kraada and his protector followed Chanii into the space as the seneschal busied himself checking the external cameras that previewed their path. Satisfied nothing was amiss, he motioned the emperor and his escort into a protected position then opened the door into the next hallway. In this manner, they progressed through the trio of checkpoints that secured the tunnel access. Finally, they emerged into the main section of the center, and made their way to the control area.

  The seneschal entered first, and the technicians and officers took little note of him. As Kraada strode into the room, heralded by a small cough from Chanii, they jumped to their feet and snapped to attention. He let them show their respect for an appropriate time, then said, “As you were.” The technicians hurried to busy themselves at their consoles, and the officers in the room gathered in a semicircle before him.

  “Report,” he ordered, and in his own words heard an echo of Drovaa Jat. He offered a wry smile to his fallen foe, who made his lingering presence known at strange moments.

  “Our forces have landed upon eight planets that are home to human colonies, Emperor. They’re divided between the two human factions. Our forces were able to travel six eighths of the way toward the humans’ origin planet before operational secrecy required them to commit to targets.”

  Kraada nodded. “Less than we’d hoped, but more than we’d feared. Send the commanders my compliments.”

  The officer dipped his head in acknowledgement of the order, the feathers resting in a bundle on his right shoulder bobbing as his head moved. “The enemy has responded as we expected them to, although not in the numbers we’d anticipated. At most, they’ve allocated two or three ships to each incursion.”

  Kraada frowned, and he was fairly sure he heard a soft hiss from Variin. “Options?”

  A second military commander, this one in charge of the ground troops that had been detailed to the operation, stepped forward and took up the conversation. “There are several, Emperor. We can pull back the ground forces and abandon our assault on the colonies. We can continue the assault on the colonies but pull back the additional ships we’d planned to use in support of that action and detail them to in-system defense of our home system. Or, we can continue as planned and eliminate the human colonies and the few ships that have been detailed to support them, drawing on the reserve force as needed. The last option leaves us at some risk if the humans aren’t delayed significantly by our attack upon their colonies.”

  Kraada considered the options. Variin’s soft voice broke into his thoughts as she said, “Destroy them quickly, and our ships will arrive in ample time to defend the home system.”

  A smile stretched across his face at her dependable tendency to answer every question with “attack,” but he judged her correct in this moment. “Indeed, we shall. Use the reinforcements as planned.” He paused and tapped a talon upon his chin. “In fact, let’s test their resolve further. Launch a second wave to attack the colonies. Draw the ground troops from wherever necessary and send some of the ships we’re using as pickets in the systems nearby for support.”

  He turned to the commander of the space forces. “Do we expect the enemy to come
directly for the home system?”

  The officer shook his head. “No, Emperor. The signal distribution of our latest intercepts by the listening posts seeded throughout their territory suggests the human forces were still widely scattered. We anticipate they’ll gather at a preliminary location before launching their attack upon the home system.”

  “Good. We have time, then, to put this plan into effect. What’s the status of our system defense?”

  “All our ships have been recalled, Emperor. They’re traveling from various distances, but we believe they’ll arrive in time to play a part in the battle. The only exceptions are those detailed to other actions against the humans, and those who are farthest away. They may only arrive for the victory celebration.”

  Kraada offered a thin smile at the forced patriotism. “And the fortresses?”

  “Expected to arrive within the day.”

  He clapped his hands together. “Excellent. Surely the gods are smiling upon us in this venture.” He turned and strode from the control room, preceded by his seneschal. As they reached the security of the corridors cut from the bedrock of the planet, he swiveled his head to look at his protector.

  “Verification?”

  “Yes, Hierarch. Our informant in the room gave the proper signals of confirmation for everything the commanders told us.”

  The tension melted from him and he gave a relaxed smile. “Loyalty is a precious thing, my friends. Truly, the gods have blessed me with a great gift to have the two of you at my sides.”

  He closed his eyes and bowed his head as they walked. Had he gazed at his paired lieutenants, he would’ve seen deep satisfaction in the eyes of one, and troubled concern lurking in the orbs of the other.