The Shattered Empire (The Shadow Space Chronicles Book 2)

by Kal Spriggs

  “Azure Squadron,” Captain Gizmon snapped, “Break to course seven five three. Enemy destroyer is coming around our flank, you are in our path of fire!”

  Garret swore as the destroyer broke around the underside of the Warwagon. He could see it's intent immediately. The destroyer had probably planned to sweep in from the other flank of the dreadnought in time with the cruiser. With the flanking cruiser out of the fight, it was a desperation move, but it might just pay off. With their position, Azure squadron was in the path of fire and that might let the destroyer live long enough to cripple the larger ship.

  His squadron was black on ammunition. Their missiles were gone, they didn't have time to come to that vector, not without letting the enemy fighters get in among them where they'd be easy prey. If they stayed where they were they'd be in the crossfire between the destroyer and the dreadnought and they'd be dead anyway.

  “Azure Squadron, come to course two seven eight,” Garret snapped. It was an apparent suicide course, diving directly towards the Warwagon. Yet he felt a wash of relief as his pilots followed his command without hesitation.

  He swung his Hammer on a different course... head on with the enemy destroyer. “Get me target lock, Heller!” he said.

  She began to swear, softly in German as she put together what they were trying to do. A single gunship going head to head with a destroyer wasn't risky, it was suicide. The enemy destroyer seemed to realize the threat instantly and his sensors showed the destroyer was pinging him with active radar. Garret gave a shout of victory as his reticule firmed up and he brought the nose of his Hammer in line with the enemy vessel. He mashed the trigger and the mass driver fired at the same time as alarms sounded that the enemy had them locked on.

  His Hammer rocked with three solid shots before a fourth, harder jolt was followed by alarms. At the same time, a pinprick boil of light flared on his screen ahead of him. Guess I get credit for the destroyer, he thought. A moment later his screens and most of his panels went dead.

  “Power plant went into emergency shut down,” Heller said. “We have emergency power only.”

  “That's fine,” Garret said. “Did the squadron make it?”

  “I don't know,” Heller responded. “We killed the destroyer. Freedom squadron was en route, and without the destroyer, the Warwagon was clear to engage the enemy fighters as well.”

  Garret nodded, even though she couldn't see. “Do we have radio?”

  “Working it,” Heller said.

  Garret stared at his blank screens and bit his lip. He was concerned for his squadron. The battle plan, such as it was, had placed them and the War Dogs as a whole at severe risk. The close range engagement had favored the Colonial Republic ships. It was their ideal situation, he knew, to engage larger ships from in close and use swarm tactics to take them down. This smells like a setup, he thought, in which case... well, then the questions I've been asking are probably making people uncomfortable.

  Their notional ally had just upped the stakes. Garret bit his lip. He still didn't know what Commodore Pierce had done in response to the information he had already passed on. But one thing he did know... this couldn't go unanswered. Admiral Mannetti wanted the War Dogs out of the picture and this was the most overt way she could do so, short of showing her hand and attacking them herself. It was a clear message: stay out of her business.

  Unfortunately, it made Garret that much more eager to get to the bottom of it... as soon as someone picked him up and got him back to Halcyon, at least.

  ***

  “Nice work, Commander,” Commodore Pierce said as Garret stepped onto the cramped bridge of the Warwagon.

  “Thanks, sir,” Garret said. He looked around, “How'd we make out?” He'd seen signs of damage on his way, but it looked as if none of the hits had reached the inner areas of the vessel. The low ceiling and bulky consoles showed no signs of damage and the air was clear of the acrid stench of shorted wires and cooked plastic. Thankfully, the old dreadnought had come through, backed by its heavy armor and bulk as much as its weapons.

  “Mix of good and bad,” Commodore Pierce said. He sighed, “We lost some people. Ahmad and Jacel from your squadron, some good people here aboard the Warwagon as well.”

  “Damn,” Garret said. The loss of Ahmad was bad enough, but Jacel had been with Azure squadron for longer than Garret. He'd joked about retiring, even though everyone knew he spent most of his pay and had almost no savings.

  “Still, we would have lost a lot more, if not for your actions,” Commodore Pierce said. “I'm promoting you to Captain.” His gray eyes met Garret's levelly.

  Garret felt his throat close up. “Thank you, sir.” He shook his head, “Honestly, sir, I think I'll have to decline, I'd like to stay with my squadron... and with Ahmad gone, we'd be down two pilots.”

  “You will stay with Azure... which we're bringing up to a flight,” Commodore Pierce said. “If you thought the convoy's escort was heavier than expected... well, its cargo was more valuable as well. You'll command Azure Flight. I've already got Lieutenant Wall working on acquiring additional Hammers.”

  Now that is interesting, Garret thought. Lieutenant Wall was their logistician. Garret remembered that the Commodore had sent him to Tannis to stock up on ammunition, parts, and equipment not long ago... and Garret wondered if he had already planned the expansion when he did so.

  “Thank you, sir,” Garret said. He glanced around to see if anyone stood close enough to hear and leaned forward, “Sir, I've been thinking about that information I gave you...”

  “Yes,” Commodore Pierce said. “So have I. Come on back to the briefing room and I'll tell you what I envision for your squadron.” The Commodore led the way off the bridge and down a narrow corridor to the briefing room. They had to lever the hatch open and closed behind them, a reminder that much of the Warwagon was old, without the improvements that had become common even on Colonial Republic warships. The Commodore sat at his desk and gestured to a chair. “It looks like Admiral Mannetti doesn't like us digging into her agreement with Halcyon.”

  “So it was a setup?” Garret asked angrily. He thought about Ahmad and Jacel, dead because of the betrayal.

  “More of a warning, I think,” Commodore Pierce said. He sighed. “You might have heard, Halcyon sent an emissary to Port Klast to recruit additional privateers?” Garret nodded slowly. He had heard. From what Abigail had said, they'd sent Jessica to do the recruiting at Port Klast. “Well, I think that Admiral Mannetti has decided that we're a bit too loyal to our employers to keep us around in the long term. On top of that, she doesn't want anyone digging around in whatever they have at this site in Brokenjaw Mountain.”

  Garret nodded slowly, “So what's our play, sir?” Commodore Pierce had decades of experience in mercenary work. He knew the rules of the game far better than Garret and more importantly, Garret trusted the other man to make the right decision... or at least one that would get the fewest people he cared about killed.

  “We bulk up your new flight,” Commodore Pierce said. “Also, as you've noticed, we've taken some damage. I think we'll stay close... very close... to Halcyon as we take care of our extensive damage.” The grin he had suggested that it would take some time to conduct repairs. Garret liked that idea. Privateering never appealed much to him. Though they were, in theory, taking from people who could afford it, it seemed to him that didn't much help the merchant crews of the ships they took. If they took up garrison duty over Halcyon, someone else could do that work and Garret would get the opportunity to look into his brother and father's business at Brokenjaw Mountain. And to find out how involved Jessica has become in all this, he thought.

  “Yes, sir,” Garret said. “That sounds like a great idea.”

  ***

  Faraday System

  United Colonies

  October 4, 2403

  Lucius stepped into the lounge of the Centauri Cornucopia and restrained a sigh. The forward section of the ship was all viewing ports and pro
vided an exquisite view of space. It was the kind of expensive flourish that he would expect from the Centauri.

  Captain Daniel Beeson stepped up next to him and gave a nod at the various other people present, some in civilian attire and others in military uniform. “Who are they, sir?”

  Lucius's eyes ranged over the other guests for a moment before he answered. “The ones in the red and blue dress uniforms are the Confederation Fleet officers. The ones in the red and gray dress uniforms are their Fleet Infantry officers. They probably sent a number of representatives to speak at various levels. It's typical in a delegation like this to have a number of them present. Treat most of them as fellow officers, but keep in mind, at least a few of them are professional spies. For that matter, the Centauri's military branches don't trust one another for spit. They'll be watching one another as much as they'll be watching us.”

  “So... should we just avoid them?” Captain Beeson asked, uncertainly.

  “No,” Lucius said. “Smile, mingle, talk to them about the common things that all military people share. We may be their allies, soon enough... or in a shooting war. Just don't spill any military secrets, accept any favors, or insult any of them and you're good.” He had forgotten that the younger man didn't have experience with this sort of thing. Lucius wasn't the best at it, himself, partly because of his family's history making him a pariah and partly because Nova Roma had been at war so much that they didn't do many diplomatic events in the years leading up to their defeat.

  “What about the civilians, sir?”

  “They're minor diplomatic functionaries and bureaucrats, I'd imagine,” Lucius said. Probably a few professional spies as well, he thought, but since they probably have this lounge wired for sound and video, I'll not say that aloud. “Advisers for economics, governance, all sorts of things. No real need to seek any of them out, but if they do come to you, be respectful but definitely don't agree to accept or do anything.”

  Lucius gave Captain Beeson a final nod, “Enjoy. And don't forget to take notes. We want to learn what we can about these people.”

  He turned and walked towards Kate Bueller, who politely broke away from one of the Centauri civilians. “Baron Giovanni, how are you this evening?”

  “I am well, Madame Foreign Minister,” Lucius responded with a smile. While most of the positions remained, as yet, unfilled, the Parliament had ratified the appointments of most of the key positions. He shot a glance over at where his new Minister of War stood in discussion with one of the Centauri functionaries. “How are you and the rest of our representation?” Julian Newbauer seemed entirely at ease and, if anything, far too friendly to the other man. Maybe it's nothing, Lucius thought, but combined with the rumors and suspicions about some elements within the Dreyfus Fleet, it makes me uncomfortable.

  She seemed to catch his underlying question. “I must admit it is a bit amazing how well some of us are adjusting, particularly to discussion with the Centauri Confederation.” Her voice was level, but there was no hiding the anger in her eyes. She didn't like Newbauer being so chummy with people that had yet to show their hands and Lucius felt certain there would be repercussions for the Minister of War. “President of Parliament Cassin was unable to attend tonight, due to a prior engagement, but she asked me to express her desire to attend.”

  “Of course,” Lucius said. Sara Cassin had called earlier in the evening to express her concern about their entire government being present and he had agreed that she, at least, need not attend. With a glance at his Minister of War, he made a mental note to add him to future such events until he felt out the man's ambition. Lucius had no issue with a certain level of ambition... so long as it didn't risk his people. Right at this moment, Lucius wasn't certain where the other man fell, which meant he didn't trust him around the Centauri, especially with his ties back to the Dreyfus Fleet. “Well, what do we know about the Centauri Confederation Ambassador?”

  She cocked an eyebrow, as if to ask whether she should speak freely. Lucius gave a shrug in return. “Well, what we know so far is that they haven't told us,” she grimaced. “Which could mean any number of things... few of them good, in my opinion. All of them are political... and as you know, politics in the Centauri Confederation can be murky.”

  Lucius gave a grimace of his own. The multiway civil war that continued in the Centauri Confederation had it's roots in inequitable economic opportunities. What that meant was that the oligarchs of various worlds maintained control over the economies of the others. Old economic theorists had predicted the rise of state controlled economic systems as some means of regulating equality... though what that ended up as within the Centauri Confederation was that the men and women who controlled the government controlled most of the money and all of the power. Elysia and it's capital city of Elysium was the official capital, but almost every one of the fifteen major worlds had their own capitals, often with declarations of independence or alliance with other worlds. The last Lucius had heard, the two main factions were represented by the Centauri and Tau Ceti systems, though each of those factions, in turn, had splinter factions, terrorist groups, and even internal uprisings. The Centauri Confederation as a whole still presented a unified front against the Colonial Republic, Nova Roma, and the few independent worlds. It wasn't unheard of for the more powerful factions to unite against raiders or to then return to their bloodshed in the immediate aftermath.

  The part that truly annoyed Lucius was that there were effectively no differences between the Centauri Confederation and the Tau Ceti Separatists at this point. While the Centauri officially stood for law and order, they had degenerated into a totalitarian regime backed by a powerful military and undercut by corrupt cronyism and massive super-corporations that owned entire continents, if not worlds. The Tau Ceti, who said they stood for freedom, often backed the worst regimes on their allied worlds, in the name of winning the fight against their enemies. The war had become a thing of economics as much as anything else and the losers in that were the common people who not only had to shoulder the burden of paying for it all... but also gave their lives in the fleets that clashed and the covert operations teams that fought one another on the ground. If any of the reports were even remotely accurate, billions had already died in the constant warfare... and the representatives of each power continued to confidently state that victory, and an end to the war, was at hand.

  As of the last that Lucius had heard, Elysia controlled the Centauri system with all three of it's inhabited worlds, Elysia, Greenfall, and Novo Rodina. They also had nominal control over the Kied, Delta Pavonis, Epsilon Indi, and Sigma Draconis systems, though in each of those systems several planets were contested, at best. The Centauri Confederation Ambassador would, of course, claim to speak for President Spiridon and all thirteen systems and forty inhabited planets, to include Sol and Earth. Both sides claimed Earth, but in reality almost no one counted Earth for any value beyond the prestige of controlling it. Earth, having been repeatedly looted and raided, it was more of a consolation prize than anything else at this point.

  To openly suggest that the Centauri Confederation didn't control everything they claimed would be taken as an insult, especially if the speaker in question made it sound as if the Centauri Confederation didn't have the right to rule those thirteen systems. The institutional arrogance amongst their elite was something that grated on Lucius. They possessed an almost divine sense of their own superiority, though that seemed backed by little in the way of achievements or merit.

  Lucius pushed all that back though and managed a shrug, “Sometimes I wonder if they'll use the terms Byzantine and Centauri synonymously.” If they were being observed, that could be taken as a somewhat backhanded compliment. Though, in fact, Lucius meant it in the sense that the Byzantine Empire had fallen to the barbarians, after their complex web of alliances had collapsed. So too, he felt, was the Centauri Confederation doomed... and for more reason. Only the relative weakness of the Colonial Republic had spared them, thus far. And fo
r all the destruction and death it will bring on their civilians, he thought, they would still be better off with the chance to build something new, assuming said barbarians give them the chance.

  “Perhaps,” Kate answered. She looked around, “As I've said, I have a few theories as to the identity. There are a number of their military figures who would be ideal, from their perspective, representatives to us, particularly a few who served under Admiral Dreyfus during Amalgamated Worlds. Granted, their 'peacekeeping' operations they've undertaken has painted most of their ranking military leaders with enough blood that their people won't really feel much good will. This might be part of why they're keeping the identity quiet, so that they won't have a negative response back home.”

  Lucius nodded at that. It wasn't unknown for riots, looting, and even insurrection to break out on one of the nominally loyal worlds when this or that war hero – or war criminal, depending on perspective – received some accolade.

  “Then too, I've thought it might be one of President Spiridon's immediate family. His daughter, in particular, has been out of the media of late. Some have suggested an assassination they want to keep quiet,” she glanced around as if to suggest that she wanted that rumor overheard and possibly countered. “If that's the case, they probably want to keep the family member's movement quiet, particularly with the numerous attempts on his family over the past few decades.”

  Lucius snorted at that. It wasn't really funny, he knew, so much as morbidly ironic. President Spiridon had risen almost meteorically to power four decades previously. In the time since, he and his family had gradually pulled more and more power to his administration, to the point that the elections had become little more than a bad joke. As a result, he was possibly the most hated man in human space, a despot with a worse reputation for ruthlessness than the terrorist Thomas Kaid and with a higher body count than the pirate Tommy King. Such success had, of course, garnered the attention of a host of enemies, some of whom were rumored to be his own family, eager for him to make way for the next generation of despots.