Kalila deployed a third of her fighting force in front of the primary planet to augment the system’s own defenses. Together, they were a force of one-hundred-twenty ships, including eighty battleships and forty smaller ships: destroyers, sentry ships, sloops, interceptors, and frigates. Not a pathetic force by any means, especially with the help of the local starbase and its defense platforms, but altogether insufficient to stop a Rotham fleet which included a minimum of four-hundred warships. She, and her advisors, expected the Rotham fleet to enter the system in a tight, compact, fast formation, surrounding and protecting their troop transports while blitzing directly for the system’s defenses. The augmented defense force would be approximately the response the Rotham would expect and they would engage it as fast as they could, knowing they would prevail through sheer overwhelming force.
However, Kalila had another three hundred warships ready to engage the Rotham fleet, which she chose to conceal. The larger ships with the best shields and strongest sublight drives were to hold position in low orbit in the system’s two large gas giants. The thick atmospheres and storm conditions would disguise their presence from any normal scans. There was a risk placing her ships there, and she expected to lose a handful of them, but the opportunity to conceal them in such a strategically useful position was too good to pass up. Then, her fastest ships, destroyers, interceptors, and so on, were positioned on the far side of the star, opposite where they expected the Rotham fleet to arrive from alteredspace. Then, once the Rotham fleet had gone for the bait, blitzing to attack the local defense force, the fast ships would swoop around the star and engage the overly tight Rotham formation. As they did, the battleships and heavy cruisers would emerge from the gas giants and join the battle. Together, these additional forces would pincer the enemy fleet.
If Calvin’s intelligence was good, and she had every reason to believe it was, the enemy’s tight, fast formation would be extremely vulnerable to such an attack. They would sustain brutal losses before being able to adapt to what was effectively heavy fire from three different sides.
As she watched the many lights on the many 3D displays before her, her ships moving rapidly to their positions, she felt an overwhelming sense of excitement. She was anxious, worried for her people and naturally paranoid their intelligence had been bad, and concerned the Rotham would smell the trap from a klik away, but she knew these fears were irrational. She was eager for the battle to be joined because, by all rights, they should be eviscerated by her forces. It would be a great victory, and one the citizens of the Empire would not soon forget. Although she stood to lose Ophiuchus system, Caerwyn Martel, who’d refused to participate in the defense, stood to lose much more: the respect of his own people.
“To all squadrons and all ships, this is your queen,” she said, as they took their positions. All ships were on Condition One alert, including the ISS Black Swan, which was taking its chances inside the atmosphere of the gas supergiant Epsilonia, along with most of her battleships. The Bridge was filled with officers, all of them at action stations and ready for a fight.
“I address you now, as we prepare for battle, to remind you of the noble cause we are fighting for. This is for not just our beloved Empire, but for our family, our friends, our mothers and fathers, our brothers and sisters, and most of all for our children. Let us preserve a future for them, one safe and full of hope, by showing our enemies abroad what happens when they choose to invade our realm.
“Let us cast them back, bloodied and beaten, as an example to the rest of the galaxy that we, humanity, will not crumble, nor shall we fall. But instead we will prevail, forever triumphant, as our enemies flee or fall to our swords. I have come among you, to join the battle as your queen, to live and die among you all. To lay down before our Empire and for our people, my honor and my blood, no matter the price or consequence. Caerwyn would have you believe I am weak and feeble, a mere woman prone to bouts of insanity, but these are lies. For I have the heart of a true monarch, something he lacks, else he would be here to defend our people.
“I think foul scorn upon the Rotham who would dare invade our realm, and as honor requires, I have taken up arms among you all as your Admiral, your Judge, and she who will reward acts of gallantry and bold sacrifice in the field of battle! Every man or woman on each ship here, by virtue of being present, already deserves princely rewards, riches, crowns and whatever the galaxy might give you. You have my word that once I ascend my father’s throne and our Empire is again restored, I shall duly pay you all that is owed.
“Because of your strength, your honor, and your valor in the field, we shall shortly have a glorious victory over the enemies of our Empire, the very enemies who would enslave and subjugate our people, our families, and our friends. Let us give them a taste of our might. Let us cast them away, chasing them back into the DMZ or throwing them into the great oblivion which awaits our foes.”
After the ten minutes had expired, the Rotham fleet appeared. Ship after ship dropped out of alteredspace in numbers which were almost terrifying, had Kalila not brought such numbers herself.
The Rotham formed up into a tight, sword-shaped formation, just as Calvin’s intelligence predicted. They moved rapidly toward the planetary defenses, which stood ready to receive them, preparing to give to them a loss of three ships for every one. Yet, the Rotham charged undaunted, obviously wanting to eliminate all defenses and deploy their troops before a proper Imperial force could respond. Too bad for them, a proper Imperial force was already here, lying in wait.
Kalila waited until the Rotham arrived sufficiently deep within the system and had begun their fight against the local defenses. They were now far enough in that they were committed to the battle. No easy escape remained to them.
“Now!” ordered Kalila, and the lights on the 3D display all began to move, swarms of them rapidly sweeping around the star from either direction, while other larger groups of lights emerged from the gas giants.
“Captain Adiger, bring us into the field. Let us show them what we’re made of,” said Kalila.
“Yes, Your Majesty. All hands, forward thrusters to maximum. Shields full strength afore, weapons crews stand by for my command,” he said. His Bridge chiefs acknowledged and spread the orders.
Now is the hour of our triumph, thought Kalila.
***
All went quiet. That was the end, then. The fight for the Bridge was over. He knew it was too much to hope his side had prevailed, which meant Mira’s men would storm his office now, ready to take him out, and then that would be that. Mira would have her victory and Raidan would be a dead relic from a past when he had command of the Harbinger. But it was to be no more…
He held the pistol shakily in his hand as he kept vigilant watch of the door, clinging to the shred of hope that Tristan would have rallied Raidan’s supporters from the lower decks and even now they were racing to the Bridge to rescue him. And, with any luck, take out Mira Pellew. Although Raidan hadn’t seen her in the skirmish on the Bridge, he knew she was lurking around. She would want to be there to see Raidan fail, to watch sadistically as her ambush slaughtered his men.
As he waited, knowing his fate was sealed and not wanting to give Mira the satisfaction of taking him out, he considered turning the pistol on himself. He dropped the magazine, which only had a few shots left, and locked a fresh magazine inside the gun, giving him a another seventeen bullets, although he’d be lucky to snap off three shots before they took him.
I could do myself in, he thought. Then at least I can deprive her of the chance to take me prisoner, or kill me herself.
As soon as he had thought of the idea, however, he rejected it. With any luck, Mira would accompany her men in storming the office, wanting to gloat to him one final time before overseeing his brutal execution. Maybe, just maybe, I can kill the bitch, he thought, before I go down myself…
After several seconds of waiting, he heard them forcing the lock. Although she could have summoned an engineer and electron
ically opened the lock, like she had before, she must have been impatient because, based on the loud popping sound, they had instead chosen to use a small explosive. After it went, the door’s lock meant nothing. It slid open.
Raidan immediately unleashed as much hell as his handgun would allow, snapping off all seventeen shots at the doorway and taking down several of Mira’s soldiers as they tried to get the cedar desk out of their way.
He’d meant to fire only sixteen rounds, saving a bullet for either Mira or himself, but before he knew it, the slide stuck back. He was out. He dropped the clip and scrambled to arm the firearm with the first clip, which still had a few shots left. But, before he could lock the magazine into place and pull back the slide, Mira’s soldiers had gotten the desk out of the way, charged in, and grabbed him by the arms. Raidan managed to pistol whip the first one across the face, but after that he was powerless, trapped in the iron grip of three separate soldiers. He struggled to break free, his fighting spirit not willing to give in, especially since he knew Tristan was coming. He had to be coming. But his struggles availed him nothing.
“We have him in custody,” one of the soldiers called out. Evidently, this was Mira’s cue, as she immediately entered the office, stopping a few feet in. The broad smile on her face was something Raidan wished he could slap away.
“Well, well, well,” said Mira. “Look what we have here. A rat in a trap.”
“Mira, listen to me,” said Raidan, through clenched teeth, feeling bold despite the fact that he was facing certain death and he knew it. “You cannot go through with your plan; it’s savage and unnecessary!”
“It is an unfortunate course of action,” she said. “But if the only way to unite the Empire and end the civil war is to use the superweapons on Imperial planets, then that's what must be done. I don’t expect you and your antiquated mind to understand. You’re a relic. I’m a visionary.”
“Try it my way, Mira. You can kill me, you can take all the credit, I don’t care. But try it my way first,” he insisted. “That plan will work. And it will work without loss of blood.”
“It may work,” she admitted. “Or it may be the greatest mistake we could possibly make. Either way, it's a moot point, because your plan has been added to the trash heap of ideas not to try.”
“Damn you, Mira. If you do as you propose…history will remember you as a vicious butcher.”
“And you would be looked at any differently?” she asked, raising a curious eyebrow. “Surely, Raidan, you must know we are the same.”
“We’re not the same.”
“Of course we are. We both demanded strong action and we’re both willing to take risks which threaten the Empire in order to save it. And we were both willing to remove White Rook from power and seize the Organization for ourselves. We are the same.”
“We are not the same,” said Raidan, refusing to believe it. “I would not butcher three Imperial worlds without cause, and I would have spared White Rook her life, not shot her in the concourse of the Forum before the entire Organization’s leadership.”
“She had to be killed, and publicly, and deep down you know it,” said Mira. “You’ve just gone soft and so you pretend there was some other way. But if White Rook still lived, the other Group Leaders would have tried to mount some kind of rescue. But with her out of the way, they'll be forced to rally behind the new regime. They follow strength, you and I both know that, and without any surviving allegiance to White Rook, because she is deceased, they're free to follow someone new. Free to follow me.”
“You really are everything I was warned about you, and more,” said Raidan. “I doubt there is a Hell, but if there is, I hope you rot in it for eternity after eternity.”
“The feeling is mutual,” said Mira, apparently unbothered. She folded her arms. “Sergeants, take aim and prepare to fire.” Two men stepped forward and aimed their rifles at Raidan’s chest, center of mass, just like they’d been trained.
Raidan knew he was a dead man, but he couldn’t believe things had come to this. He'd been so close to saving the Empire by trying his one last final gamble to protect the Human species. But now he’d never have the chance. At least he would die without having to witness Human world after Human world falling to their enemies. He hated that Mira had bested him, and himself for not making better plans to deal with her, for failing to predict the treachery she had executed so quickly and so thoroughly once White Rook had been taken.
Just then, a female soldier arrived. Everyone seemed to take notice of her; her footsteps seemed purposefully loud. She wore a marine’s uniform with a captain’s insignia. Raidan recognized her as one of Mira’s closest associates and most dirty-handed lackeys. If only it had been Tristan instead, he thought, his feelings grim.
“Glad you could join us, Captain Valentine,” said Mira, looking over her shoulder. “You’re about to witness history.”
“The honor is mine,” said Captain Valentine.
The moment Mira looked away from Captain Valentine and back to Raidan, Captain Valentine raised her hand and made a signal. It was not a standard marine hand signal, so Raidan didn’t recognize it, but everyone else seemed to take note of it. Everyone except for Mira, whose eyes were locked on Raidan, like he was a juicy piece of steak and she a ravenous wolf about to enjoy a long awaited supper.
“You do not deserve the honor,” said Mira. “But I shall allow you the courtesy of last words. What say you?”
Raidan felt hopeless in that moment. He was about to be shot and killed and there was nothing he could do about it. And Tristan, if the Lycan still lived, had not arrived and now would arrive too late. “I may die here this day,” said Raidan, feeling a swell of patriotism fill him, the only comfort that remained to him. Although he’d become an outlaw and fought against his own government, which had become corrupted on the deepest levels, he'd always loved the Empire and never wavered in that love. Even though, now, it seemed it had cost him everything, including his life.
“But I die with a clear conscience and having had the tremendous privilege of putting the citizens of the Empire ahead of my own selfish interests, and the noblest of motives, the greatest of wishes, to see the restoration of our great Empire. I happily give up my life for our mighty nation, with its proud traditions and inherent goodness. Truly this Empire has been the pinnacle of not just Human achievement, but achievement throughout the entire galaxy. In my death, I pray the Empire survives. And I am honored to spill my blood for her. Non sibi sed Patriae.”
“Are you finished?” asked Mira, looking impatient.
“I am finished,” said Raidan, accepting his fate. He closed his eyes. The shots in his chest meant he wouldn’t die immediately. He could expect to suffer, but after that he would be taken into the sweet embrace of total oblivion, never to think or feel anything again. And in death, he supposed, it didn't matter what he'd done with life, for there were no rewards nor punishments awaiting him. No Heavens, no Hells, and no souls to wander the cosmos, only oblivion, the state of no longer being.
“Very well then,” said Mira. “I've waited for this moment for a long time. Men, prepare arms,” she said. Raidan could hear the men adjust their firearms, ensuring they were properly aimed and ready to fire.
“Fire.”
Raidan braced himself for the darkness.
After a second, he realized no shots had been fired. He felt nothing, he heard nothing. Then Mira’s voice broke the silence, sounding confused, panicked even. “What the hell are you doing?”
Raidan opened his eyes to see the sergeants, who had been meant to kill him, had instead taken Mira Pellew by the arms, restraining her. The rest of their men had trained their weapons on her instead of him.
“Captain Valentine, control your men,” demanded Mira, looking very much like someone had stolen her most prized possession from her.
“They are under control,” said Captain Valentine. Then she looked to Raidan. “Sir, Captain Valentine and Delta Squad reporting for duty
. What are your orders?”
Raidan was dumbfounded for several seconds. These men had fought his loyal soldiers, slaughtered them in ambush on the Bridge. They’d taken him captive, gone along with every order Mira had given them, until Captain Valentine had appeared and somehow forced them to change sides. Just like that.
What. The. Hell, Raidan thought.
Mira began kicking and screaming, trying to get loose. “Damn you, Valentine, you backstabbing traitor; I'll have your head for this!”
“Somehow, I doubt it,” said Captain Valentine. Then she looked back at Raidan, who was still just staring, trying to make sense of the situation. Perhaps his bribes and threats had worked. It made sense each squad would remain loyal to its commanding officer, but why had Captain Valentine taken so long to appear, and what had Raidan done to sweeten his offer enough to win over one of Mira’s most ardent supporters? He'd offered Valentine a bribe, but not expected anything to come of it. In fact, the bribe he offered her had been small compared to many others he’d offered, and many, if not most, of those captains had turned him down.
“Your orders, sir?” asked Captain Valentine, once more.
“Take her away,” said Raidan. “Go to a discreet place and terminate her. Immediately.” Raidan knew Mira was far too dangerous to be kept alive. She had to be dealt with as soon as possible.
“Wait,” said Mira, still looking baffled as hell. “You don’t want to do that.”
“I really think I do,” said Raidan. “Kill her, two in the chest and one in the head. Then do it again. I want to make sure she does not survive. Then return and report to me. I want evidence of her death.”
The Phoenix Darkness Page 43