by Jay Allan
Harmon was stunned. The Mules had known all along…yet they’d never attempted to blackmail him, to use it against him. He found himself more intrigued than ever at the mysterious hybrids.
“Still…” Harmon paused. He was trying to stay focused, but the discussion had dredged up the old guilt about what he had done. “…I don’t think killing Mr. Diennes is the smart move right now.” He wasn’t sure he really believed that. If the gentle H2 suggested it, he realized it might very well be the right play now. But he knew he didn’t have it in him to assassinate another rival.
“Perhaps not. I wonder if it isn’t best just to ignore him. You control the Marines and the navy—and our bots are available to enforce your decisions as well. There is little Diennes can do to challenge you openly.” It was clear from H2’s tone that he still believed eliminating the troublemaker was the best route.
“That is true.” Harmon paused. “But his efforts to undermine me are still harmful. If we are facing what we fear we are, we will need every man and woman, side by side to win the victory. To survive. Diennes’ poison could damage us just enough to make the difference. The more people who believe that the threat is an invented fiction, the weaker we will be when it comes to a fight.”
Harmon hesitated. He’d brought himself full circle, back to the reason H2 had originally suggested killing Diennes. Harmon realized his hesitancy, his unwillingness to be as hard, as decisive as he had been thirty years before, could prove disastrous. But he knew he didn’t have it in him to murder a man who had so far done nothing but criticize him. Not again.
“Perhaps we can just…”
“Mr. President, I have a communique from your…from Captain Fujin, sir.” The voice blared through the com unit. It was one of the communications officer on duty. Warrick, Harmon remembered as he placed the voice. Lieutenant Warrick.
Mariko?
He was confused. Then he remembered she’d been scheduled for deep space training with her newly activated squadrons. His stomach tightened.
“On my com. Now.”
Has something gone wrong?
He pressed the button, putting the com on speaker. He had nothing to hide from H2.
“Max, this is Mariko. I’m sending this under an alpha-ten code. We’re on maneuvers near the G3 warp gate. We’re picking up an energy spike…”
Harmon could hear the tension in her voice. He felt it himself, as if his insides were twisted in knots. He’d been doing everything possible to beef up Earth Two’s defenses, but he needed more time. If those were First Imperium ships about to transit…
Mariko…
He realized Fujin and her still-disorganized fighter wings would be the first line of defense. He knew what she would do if enemy ships started pouring into the system. Her birds weren’t even armed with live plasma torpedoes, but that wouldn’t stop her.
He stared down at his desk, realizing in horror that Mariko could die any minute. No, she could already be dead. The warp gate was more than sixty light minutes from Earth Two. The words he was hearing had been spoken over an hour ago. If there was a fight in the outer system, it was already in progress.
Or already over…
He sat and listened, as she continued her report.
“First ship coming through now…”
The pause seemed like an eternity. Harmon felt himself leaning forward, almost falling out of his chair.
“It’s Constitution, Max!” He heard the tone of her voice before the words sunk in. “It’s Admiral West!”
Harmon leaned back in his chair, exhaling hard, feeling relief push out the tension. West was back. That had to be good news…
“Max…” It was Mariko again, on the com. Her tone had changed again. It was dark, grim. “Max…Admiral West just sent me a com.” She paused, and Harmon could swear he heard her sniffle back tears. “It’s terrible, Max. It’s just terrible…”
* * *
Max Harmon stood in the docking bay, watching as one of the cranes moved the large metal cylinder. He’d seen medpods before, and he’d had too many friends and comrades end up in the coffin-like devices. He knew the pods were the surgeon’s tool of last resort, a way to keep a dying patient alive a bit longer, usually in the vain hope of a miracle.
The crane moved the pod over him, its giant arm dropping slowly, lowering the mechanism to the deck. He stood, stone still and staring, until he heard the clacking sound of the pod’s supports hitting the metal floor. Finally, he took a step forward…but he stopped almost immediately, as he heard the familiar voice behind him.
“Max…we have to discuss strategies as soon as possible…”
It was Erika West. She wore a spotless uniform, as always, and she stood almost at attention, looking the image of the fighting admiral. But it was her voice that gave her away, and the pain in her words was like a cry for help to Harmon.
“Erika…I’m so sorry.” He stepped forward again, stopping in front of the medpod. He looked down, through the clear hyper-polycarbonate shell. Nicki Frette lay there, her eyes closed, unmoving, looking in every way like she was dead. Harmon knew she wasn’t dead, not yet. The medpod used controlled cryonics to slow her bodily functions, to keep her alive when her injuries would have killed her already. It wasn’t a treatment, merely a way to buy some time. And a chance.
“Her spine is severed, Max. She has a basilar skull fracture, and there is damage to her cerebral cortex. The doctors don’t know if they can save her…and even if they do, they say the damage to the brain may be irreversible.” West was one of the strongest people Harmon had ever known, but he could see that between Frette’s injuries and the situation with the First Imperium, his commanding admiral was close to the breaking point.
Harmon was trying to think of something to say, some words that would comfort his friend. But Achilles walked across the docking bay before he got anything out.
“Admiral West, do not despair. I have contacted Themistocles and requested that he meet us at the hospital. He is an expert in both human and Ancient anatomy and surgery. I am confident he can assist in obtaining a favorable outcome for Admiral Frette.”
“Thank you, Achilles.” West’s voice was firmer than it had been a few seconds before.
The Mule just nodded. Then he glanced at Harmon. “I am sure you both have much to discuss…so I will see that Themistocles is ready.” He turned and walked across the bay, toward the exit door.
“The Mules are extremely capable, Erika…and Themistocles is brilliant. I am sure he can help Dr. Gower and her team. And Nicki is tough. Don’t you give up on her…”
“I won’t, Max.” Harmon could hear the fatigue in her voice as well as the sadness. He’d reviewed her reports, and those of the other key commanders. It was apparent Erika West had lost none of her tactical brilliance. Her force had raced into battle, just in time to save the survivors of Frette’s force. The battle had been a vicious one…a fight to the death. But in the end her people prevailed. Every First Imperium vessel was destroyed. She’d lost just under twenty percent of her own ships…and Frette’s casualties were in excess of fifty percent.
In spite of the losses, she had accomplished her mission. She’d saved Frette’s people, and she had confirmed, at least to some extent, what the republic was facing. Her forces had spent almost a week in the system after the battle, searching every cubic kilometer of space for any signs of enemy probes or stealth drones. Harmon couldn’t imagine what it had taken for her to delay as she had done, to put the mission first, before the need to return the critically injured Frette to Earth Two. But he knew one thing for sure. She was an officer he could trust to do whatever had to be done, to fight to the bitter end against any enemy. And he suspected he was going to need every bit of her stony resolve in the fight to come.
Harmon watched as West’s eyes moved back to the medpod. She leaned over it, looking at Frette, lying so still. She reached out, put her hand on the pod.
Harmon paused, knowing what he had to say…
but not wanting to do it. “Erika…” He hesitated again, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry…but we really have to go. We need to get to work, to get the defenses in order.” He paused once again. “We both know the fleet you destroyed wasn’t everything the enemy has out there…and we have no idea what they know, when they will be back.
West nodded, standing still for a few more seconds. Then she stood up straight and turned toward Harmon. “Of course, sir…” She sighed softly. “Duty first…as always.”
Harmon returned her nod, and he started off toward the exit door, West following right behind.
A pair of robot units moved up to the pod, pulling it slowly across the bay, toward the waiting transport. It was sleek, its clear surface covered with a sleek sheen of condensation…everywhere but on the top, where a single handprint remained.
Epilogue
Navy Headquarters
Victory City, Earth Two
“There is no way to know what we are facing, not unless we send out our own scouting parties. The enemy is undoubtedly seeking our location…we yield considerable tactical initiative if we do not do the same.” Erika West sat near the head of the massive table, next to Max Harmon. She’d been relentless in her work since returning four days before. Harmon had tried to get her to take some time, to get some rest. But he realized the work was her drug, her distraction from to worry and sadness that otherwise consumed her. Nicki Frette was still alive…but she was also non-responsive. Themistocles and the medical teams had been working around the clock, but the officer’s injuries had defied treatment.
“I must agree with Admiral West.” Achilles’ voice was as emotionless and professional as always. Or close, at least. Harmon thought he heard a touch of emotion…was it sympathy, empathy?
“There are great risks associated with such a strategy…not the least of which is the enormous danger for the crews on such missions. This is well beyond simple scouting…even if a vessel finds something, it cannot return to Earth Two unless it can evade all pursuit. And we still risk an undetected stealth drone or probe following a vessel back without its crew’s knowledge.”
“All you say is true, sir, but I believe we face a basic equation here. There is little doubt the enemy has production facilities far larger than our own…and that leads us to a simple conclusion. Given time—be it months, a year, ten years—the enemy will produce far more vessels than we can, and eventually they will overwhelm us.” The Mule paused for a few seconds. “A defensive strategy is a trap, one almost guaranteed to end in our destruction. Indeed, all the more certain, for the forces we can deploy are severely limited by the population we have available. The enemy will search space, explore each warp gate leading from any point of contact. This may involve several hundred systems, but there is no doubt they will find Earth Two. We must find a way to disrupt them…to hurt them, even destroy them. And we cannot do this standing here on the defensive, waiting.”
Harmon heard Achilles’ words, and he knew they were pure truth. His first reaction had been to stand on the defensive, but now he was realizing West and Achilles were right. Mounting the best possible defense of Earth Two was essential, of course. And attack could come at any time. But it wasn’t enough. They had to strike back, to find a way to take the fight to the enemy, as he had done thirty years before.
“Very well, then we are all in agreement. We will continue to do everything possible to defend Earth Two against any enemy attacks. But we will also send out scouting forces…our fastest ships…” Harmon hesitated, the risk the scouts would endure weighing heavily on his mind. “I will ask for volunteers to man the scoutships…”
“Sir, this is an extremely important mission. Don’t you think you should assign the very best crews to those…”
“Sorry, Achilles. You are right, no doubt. But I can’t do it…I can’t order men and women out into the endless dark, with orders to die rather than lead the enemy home. It is my weakness, I know…but I just can’t do it. I won’t.”
Achilles simply nodded.
Harmon turned and looked out over his assembled officers and advisors. “This is the worst crisis we have faced since the days of the old fleet…but we will face it, and we will defeat the enemy. Those of us at this table will carry much of the burden of what is to come…and we will carry the guilt for those who die under our command. But as dark as things are, there is one thing I can feel, in every centimeter of my body. We are not alone. No…though he is not here at the head of this table, as he should be, Terrance Compton will always be with us. We stand here in his shadow, on the world his courage and wisdom won for us…and I say this now. We will not let you down, sir…whatever it takes.
Planet X
Far Beyond the Borders of the Imperium
I begin to truly understand now. The Regent’s records, its warnings…they are now clear. The enemy is numerically weak, technologically inferior…yet they appear to have truly unique natural abilities in combat. I must investigate their origin, determine if they were bred as creatures of battle or if this is a natural trait of their species. But that is analysis for the sake of knowledge. The primary directive is unchanged. To annihilate them. To avenge the Regent.
In spite of my own established parameters, I nevertheless underestimated the enemy. I will not allow that to happen again. I have analyzed all tactical data…and I have established a baseline area of space to explore. I estimate there are three hundred seventy to three hundred ninety systems in the search area, at least one of which is the enemy home world. I have assigned exploration assets accordingly. There is a variable as to when the enemy’s system will be found, but no doubt that it will. And while the search is underway, I will assemble the fleet that will destroy the enemy.
The ships are already organizing, assembling. Preparing for the final assault.
It is a fleet of great power, vastly larger than that which was defeated. And I have given it a designation. A name.
Force Retribution.
The First Refugees Trilogy
Refugees I: Into the Darkness
Refugees II: Shadows of the Gods
Refugees III: Revenge of the Ancients
The Vengeance Trilogy
Refugees IV: Winds of Vengeance
Coming Soon:
Refugees V: Storm of Vengeance
Refugees VI: Annihilation of Vengeance
Also By Jay Allan
Marines (Crimson Worlds I)
The Cost of Victory (Crimson Worlds II)
A Little Rebellion (Crimson Worlds III)
The First Imperium (Crimson Worlds IV)
The Line Must Hold (Crimson Worlds V)
To Hell’s Heart (Crimson Worlds VI)
The Shadow Legions (Crimson Worlds VII)
Even Legends Die (Crimson Worlds VIII)
The Fall (Crimson Worlds IX)
Tombstone (A Crimson Worlds Prequel)
Bitter Glory (A Crimson Worlds Prequel)
The Gates of Hell (A Crimson Worlds Prequel)
MERCS (Successors I)
The Prisoner of Eldaron (Successors II)
Gehenna Dawn (Portal Worlds I)
The Ten Thousand (Portal Wars II)
Homefront (Portal Wars III)
The Dragon’s Banner (Pendragon Chronicles I)
Shadow of Empire (Far Stars I)
Enemy in the Dark (Far Stars II)
Funeral Games (Far Stars III)
Blackhawk (Far Stars Legends I)
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Table of Contents
A
lso By Jay Allan
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Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Epilogue