Legacy Fleet: Invincible

by David Bruns

  “Thank you, Admiral,” Chamberlain said. “Winston, what do we know about these Swarm agents?”

  The Director of the CIA threw an uneasy look at the Russians. “It’s alright, Winston,” Chamberlain assured him. “We are working with our Russian friends on this issue.”

  Winston Huxley sighed. “Yes, sir. Our preliminary analysis indicates that all of the Swarm agents we’ve uncovered to date have only two common traits. They are all roughly the same age—early forties—and they were all orphans. That’s very preliminary, sir, based on the few cases we’ve uncovered.”

  “How many confirmed agents have you found, Mr. Director?” Ivanov asked.

  Huxley waited for the president’s nod before he answered. “Six, including the Chinese premier.”

  Admiral Kilgore interrupted. “Mr. President, we have word that the Chinese fleet has made contact with the Independence and the Invincible. They have demanded their surrender.”

  Chamberlain shot a look at Ivanov. “Satisfied, Oleksiy?”

  The Russian nodded.

  Chamberlain sat up in his chair. “Get the Chinese Politburo. Keep the view tight on me.”

  A few seconds later, the screen showed a long table with four men and two women. A thin Chinese man with a gray fringe of hair sat at the end of the table. There was an empty seat next to him.

  “President Chamberlain,” the man wheezed.

  “Minister,” Chamberlain said. “I expected to speak with Premier Sun. Is he available?”

  “Our premier has been detained. Perhaps I can help you?”

  Chamberlain’s tone took on a hard edge. “Yes, you can, Minister. You have four warships in orbit demanding the surrender of a UEF vessel. Perhaps you can explain?”

  A ripple of glances passed around the Politburo table. “I’m sure there is some mistake—”

  “There is no mistake, Minister. You will recall the warships immediately or you will suffer the consequences.”

  The Chinese man bristled. “You dare threaten me—”

  “Your premier is—was—a Swarm agent. He has used your military to prepare for an alien invasion.” Chamberlain nodded to the comms tech to widen the screen so the Politburo could see Russian President Oleksiy Ivanov sitting next to him.

  “If you do not recall your warships immediately, you will be invaded from the east by Russian forces. Do I make myself clear?”

  The Chinese screen froze as they put him on mute. Chamberlain tapped his index finger on the tabletop.

  The Chinese Politburo screen unfroze. “Mr. President, we are unable to comply with your request.”

  Chamberlain gritted his teeth. “Very well, then you will suffer—”

  “You misunderstand me, sir. We want to comply, but the captain of the Zheng He has broken off communications with her military command structure.” The man hung his head. “We have reason to believe she is a Swarm agent also.”

  Chapter 43

  Blue Team Fighter Squad

  Outside the ISS Invincible

  “They’re almost too purdy to shoot.” Shrek’s down-home twang sounded out of place on the fighter net.

  “Knock it off, Shrek,” Mustang said. His team had flown well today, but there were many, many comrades who’d been erased from existence in the past few hours. He was having a tough time dealing with that fact.

  “C’mon, Mustang,” came Greyhound’s soothing voice. “He didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Sorry, guys,” Mustang said. “It’s been a long one.”

  That was an understatement. They’d barely landed back on the Invincible—minus a third of their squadron—before they’d been scrambled again. For the Chinese this time.

  The Chinese ships were beautiful, although he wouldn’t have any trouble shooting them up. The big battle cruiser had a dragon’s head worked into the armor on the bow. As they moved in orbit, the incoming solar radiation turned the dragon’s scales different colors, making it seem like the beast was moving—watching them. Pretty creepy stuff.

  He twisted in his seat. The Invincible and the Indy were a mess. Both ships had wide swaths of melted metal on their hulls and more than a few decks vented to space. He’d only seen the Indy using her thrusters, making him wonder if she even had any of her main engines available.

  As he watched the two vessels moved even closer to each other, too close by his measure. What the heck were they doing? He saw the telltale distortion of a tractor beam between them. They were linking their tractor beams?

  The flat voice of the CAG cut in on his thoughts. “All fighters, this is Control. It appears our negotiations with the Chinese have broken down and this is going to turn hot. If we are fired upon, you are weapons free. I repeat, if we are fired on, you are weapons free immediately. All fighters are to concentrate on the destroyer first. All teams, acknowledge.”

  No sooner had Mustang responded than the Chinese battle cruiser started launching rail gun slugs. The rounds streaked across space like a trail of meteors. Mustang sighed.

  “Blue Team, on me!” He slammed his throttle forward.

  ***

  ISS Invincible – Bridge

  “We’ve got incoming, Captain! Rail gun projectiles.” The sensors officer’s voice hitched up an octave, reminding Addison that she was not working with her normal bridge crew.

  “Very well, Sensors.” She felt the first impacts tremble on the hull. “Helm, give me a ten-degree down attitude. Let’s take those rounds on the thickest part of the armor. Weapons, return fire. Full spread, use the thirty-kilo slugs. If they want to poke the bear, then let’s show them some teeth.”

  The ship, linked to the Indy via her tractor beams, moved sluggishly. What they lost in maneuverability, they’d have to make up for in firepower. She touched the intercom. “CAG, how’re your fighters doing with that destroyer?”

  She could feel the tension under the CAG’s normal calm voice. “Their point defenses are good—better than our intel led us to believe—and the two frigates are a pain in my ass. We’ll get the job done, ma’am, but I’m going to lose a lot of fighters.”

  “Can’t be helped, CAG,” Addison replied. “Keep me posted.”

  “Captain, the Zheng He is on the move.”

  Addison cursed. The Chinese captain had figured out her advantage lay in her superior maneuverability. The battle cruiser closed quickly, shifting her rail gun fire to the Invincible’s less-armored flanks and following it up with laser fire when she was in range.

  “Return laser fire!” Addison called out. The Chinese ship’s shields glowed orange but held.

  Addison ignored the undercurrent of damage reports streaming into the bridge. Focus on the battle, she told herself.

  “She’s making another pass, Captain.” The Zheng He swept in, unleashing another fusillade of rail gun fire and lasers. Their return fire barely scratched the Chinese ship’s artistic armor.

  “Incoming from the Indy, ma’am.”

  Captain Preble’s face was grim. “Addison, I don’t think this is working. As long as we’re linked, I’m holding you back. This Chinese bitch is going to cut us to pieces.”

  “Sir, if I cut you loose, those frigates will have a field day with you—” She stopped short. “I have an idea.”

  “She’s making another pass, Captain.”

  “I hear you, Weps. Do what you can for now. Let me know when she comes at us again.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The weapons officer was eying her with caution. Even Laz frowned at her. Addison ignored them both as she felt the hull of the Invincible take another withering dose of Chinese fire.

  “Captain Preble, when the Zheng He makes another pass, I want to reverse the tractor beams and push apart. The resulting force will put us right in her path. She’ll maneuver and I want you to—”

  “Spin around and take out her main engines,” Preble finished for her. “It just might work.”

  “She’s turning, Captain,” called the sensors officer.

  “Very
well. Helm, when we push apart, I want you to put us right in her flight path, understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said the ensign.

  Addison watched the range close between them. “Full spread of rail guns, Weps. Let’s make her pay. Standby to reverse tractor beam . . . standby . . . now!”

  The bridge crew all slammed sideways as the polarity of the tractor beam reversed. The Chinese battle cruiser filled the screen, and Addison could see the beautiful dragon mosaic on the Zheng He’s bow rushing at them, mouth agape. The close-range rail gun fire from the Invincible ripped into the Chinese ship’s hull, spewing fire and debris.

  “Brace for impact!” Addison shouted.

  The two ships collided in a crashing screech of metal, and Addison slammed forward in her chair. They spun away from the Zheng He.

  “On screen!” Addison said. “Show me the Indy.”

  Captain Preble had taken full advantage of his push away from the Invincible, using thrusters to position himself behind the Chinese cruiser and attacking her engine room with his rail guns. A muted explosion burst out of the right rear quarter of the Zheng He before the more mobile ship powered away. She raked the Indy with another round of rail gun fire. A ripple of secondary explosions started on the Independence.

  “Rail guns! Full spread! Now!” Addison shouted.

  “Captain, look! The Chinese frigates are attacking the battle cruiser!” the sensors officer said.

  “Hold fire,” Addison replied. The two Chinese frigates were badgering the larger ship with lasers and their smaller rail guns. As she watched, the Chinese destroyer joined in.

  Addison touched her intercom. “CAG, recall your fighters. Now.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” A few seconds later the CAG came back on the line. “What’s happening, Captain?”

  “Damned if I know,” Addison said.

  The combined firepower of the three Chinese ships on their larger former colleague was having an effect. The two frigates harried the vessel from either flank while the destroyer focused fire on her engine room.

  “They’re going for her—” Laz started.

  “Core,” Addison finished for him.

  The screen lit up with a massive explosion.

  Chapter 44

  UEF Headquarters, New York City

  The vodka, chilled to perfection, slid down President Quentin Chamberlain’s throat easily. A perfect way to end a perfect day.

  He’d caught a glimpse of the news feeds and the media was eating up his speech. His press secretary’s idea to cast him as the Great Uniter was pure genius. The UEF forces had defeated the aliens, and now, under his leadership, the nations of Earth would band together for their mutual global defense.

  The Battle for Earth, as they were now calling it, had been a close-run thing, but his military had pulled it off.

  The ISS Kit Carson, a scout ship out in the hinterlands of space, had come across another contingent of Swarm ships and reported back to Earth just in time for his speech. They’d added in actual footage from the scout ship to spice up his delivery.

  God, but those Swarm ships were scary. And that interminable droning noise they made. It reminded him of ancient Scottish warriors playing bagpipes on the battlefield to put fear in their opponents.

  There was a discreet knock at the door and his aide let Russian President Oleksiy Ivanov in the room.

  “Oleksiy!” he embraced his new Russian friend in his best approximation of a bear hug. “So good of you to come.” He waved his hand at the sideboard. “Vodka?”

  The Russian’s eyelids rose a few millimeters. “Of course, Quentin.”

  They each drank two more shots before they got down to business. Quentin’s tongue felt fuzzy, but it was okay. Today was his day, dammit. He’d saved the world and he’d get drunk if he wanted to.

  “How are the repairs to your Fleet going?” Oleksiy asked. He’d loosened his tie and sprawled back in the leather armchair, one leg draped over the arm. A hairy ankle poked out of his pant leg.

  Quentin threw his lanky frame back in his own chair, imitating the Russian’s posture. “We’re making repairs to the Constitution, Independence, and Invincible now. The Victory is a total loss—that’s the ship that crashed near Salt Lake City—but the Warrior, from the Battle of Lagrange Station, can be salvaged. That was a pleasant surprise, I tell you.”

  “Your shipbuilding program is active?”

  Quentin swallowed another shot of vodka. “Absolutely. Congress gave me a blank check. Spend whatever you need, they said. Lagrange Station is working again, all dockyards are at one hundred percent capacity.” He winked at the Russian. “We even opened a new development facility on Mars for advanced weapons systems.”

  “Really? Very interesting, Quentin. What about your crews? How many senior officers survived?”

  “We took some losses, that’s for sure. There’s going to be a whole lot of battlefield promotions, but I think we’re going to be okay.” Stop talking, he thought. You’re babbling to a man who was your sworn enemy just a few days ago.

  He put the glass of vodka on the coffee table between them. “What about the Russian Fleet? How does it look on your side?”

  Oleksiy grunted and polished off another shot of vodka. “There’s a saying in Russia: it’s never as good as it seems.”

  Quentin waited for the rest of it. “And?” he said finally.

  Another vodka disappeared down Oleksiy’s throat. “And what?”

  “The rest of the saying? ‘It’s never as good as it seems, and it’s never as bad as it seems.’”

  Oleksiy shook his head slowly. “No, the saying in Russia is only the first part.”

  Quentin sat up in his chair. “No matter. When shall we make the announcement? I think it would be better if we did it in Moscow rather than here in New York. I think it shows more unity between us.”

  Oleksiy took a long time to refill his shot glass and even more to swallow its contents. “What announcement, Quentin?”

  “The speech, Oleksiy! My proposal for the Integrated Defense Force—I think ‘IDF’ has a nice official sound to it. If we showed anything in this crisis, we showed that we are stronger together. If you lead the way, the IDF won’t be just the UEF nations but all the nations. We can even bring in the Chinese—after we vet them, of course.”

  Oleksiy’s leg slid off the arm of his chair. His foot hit the floor with a solid thump.

  “That will never happen,” he said in a loud voice. Was he drunk? Where was this coming from? “There is no way we can allow the sovereign Russian military to be subordinate to an international organization. Surely you can understand that?”

  “Oleksiy, if this is a matter of command, we can establish a rotating command structure—”

  “My answer is no,” the Russian thundered.

  “But Oleksiy, without Russia to lead the way, the IDF will be no more than renaming the UEF military.”

  The Russian shrugged his heavy shoulders.

  Quentin sat back in his chair, trying to puzzle through the murkiness in his head. “But we worked so well together. I thought we were friends.” God, he really was drunk.

  “We needed each other, Quentin. It was a temporary marriage of convenience. We needed to know how far you had gotten with detecting the Swarm agents. An ingenious piece of detective work, by the way.” He poured himself another shot before continuing. “We wanted your military to test the Swarm capabilities, which you did very well.” A tilt of his head and another shot of vodka disappeared. “The fighting capability of your heavy carriers—very impressive. And your captains. We learned much from them, especially Halsey. Very innovative tactician.” The Russian stood. “And now I must take my leave, Mr. President.” He stuck out his hand.

  Quentin stood, mechanically taking the proffered hand.

  Oleksiy clapped him on the shoulder. “Cheer up, Quentin. Now you understand the Russian saying, right?” He bellowed a laugh and stomped out of the room.

  Quentin
searched his vodka-addled mind for that saying. It was somewhere in there.

  It’s never as good as it seems.

  Chapter 45

  Lunar Base

  When she’d imagined being promoted to starship captain, Addison thought it would be a magical, once-in-a-lifetime moment, the coronation of a long career.

  The real thing was a slapdash affair, presided over by a very tired-looking Fleet Admiral Kilgore. The woman looked like she’d aged a decade in the past few days. Since all of their ships were in various stages of rebuilding, the ceremony was held on Lunar Base, which had been untouched by the Swarm attack. The perfect, gleaming chrome and plastic interior of the ultramodern base felt surreal after living in their own shattered ships.

  She’d also imagined the day would be hers and hers alone, like a bride on her wedding day. Instead, she shared the day with Samantha Avery.

  “You ready for this?” Sam whispered as they waited for the ceremony to begin.

  “Do I have a choice?” Addison replied. She scanned the audience of a few hundred people. “I think we became ready when the Swarm showed up on our doorstep.”

  “Is he coming?” Sam asked.

  Addison tried to pass it off. “Who?”

  “C’mon, Addison, this is me you’re talking to. Laz, of course. Is he coming?”

  “I—I’m not sure.”

  “Do you want him to be here?”

  Now, that was the question. Did she really want him here? Whatever they’d once had—and lost—was long gone. And now . . . there was no time for a personal life, no time to see if they could make it work. She was a warrior. Her country needed her. Hell, her world needed her.

  Addison met her friend’s gaze. “Honestly, I don’t know if I do or not.” She shook her head. “You know what? No, I don’t want him here.”