An Empire is Born (Maraukian War Book 3)

by Michael Chatfield

  Yeltsin was pushing them toward the planet. Using the gravity of the planet, they would be able to gather more momentum; then, using their greater speed, they would be able to come off at an angle from the planet, a technique called slingshotting.

  Once they were slingshot away from the planet, then Hesra’s people would need to do the same maneuver or slowly come around the planet themselves. Time would then be on their side.

  Their freighter was made to enter the low orbit of a planet, but it should be going much slower. Now they were moving at higher speeds, there was a little concern from all the crew, but their freighters had been built with durability in mind.

  The Osdal moved from high orbit, to their needed lower orbit. Hall watched on as warning lights lit up all over the place.

  “Plot route is looking good. Coming up on angle change. Slight variation from port side. Correction forwarded,” Rasalov said.

  “Hah!” Guy yelled, then checked himself as Hall glanced in his direction. “Looks like Hesra is sending us all kind of cease and desist orders, Admiral.”

  Mark and Jerome looked to each other. Both of them grabbed onto a handle bar and activated the grav clamps on their boots.

  The shaking of their freighter was becoming more pronounced, and rattled them all even while speaking.

  “Send out another warning to be sure,” Hall said.

  “Sir!” Guy hit the all-hands button that connected them to the speakers across the ship.

  “All hands, make sure all items are stowed and get to a secure location and tie-in point! Be ready for high g maneuvers. This is not a drill!”

  Aware of everything, Hall watched as their speed climbed. Stress warnings lit bright red across many of their screens, but they had to push it.

  Rasalov and Yeltsin kept up a running commentary between each other, altering the plot and adjusting for unknowns as the others watched on, keeping silent.

  “Hesra’s sending his ships around the planet. They might be able to catch our tail end,” Rasalov reported.

  “Celik, if necessary, be ready to defend the freighter, only as a last resort. Nothing offensive, only defensive if we can.” Hall sounded calm and collected even as his mind was working through multiple different scenarios. Becoming a merger sounds pretty damn good right about now.

  “Reached escape velocity, altering course!” Yeltsin yelled as he adjusted thrusters.

  The thrusters fired, fighting the gravity of the planet. As the freighter kissed low orbit and shot forward, its acceleration decreased as it passed the planet before it climbed once again to escape the gravitational pull of the planet.

  The VCF Osdal showed off its chops as it fought the planet’s gravity. The high gravity was like a punch in the chest as Jerome grunted, nearly collapsing. Mark grabbed him, his body able to handle the high gravity changes relatively easy as he put Jerome into a crash seat.

  “Come on!” Yeltsin hissed through gritted teeth. The behemoth surged forward and away from the planet, toward the darkness of the outer system.

  The pressure didn’t let up as the drives kept firing at full blast, increasing the velocity of the freighter.

  They escaped high orbit, and the shaking and warning lights calmed down.

  “Deploying solar sails!” Yeltsin punched a command. Across the freighter, sections opened up and solar sails deployed, covering the freighter. With every second, they grew in size as more and more sails ran down runners and added themselves to the massive sail.

  Their acceleration increased once again as Rasalov started talking. “We’ve got Ares fighters coming around the planet. They’re going to get at least one pass on us before we exit their system.”

  “Before they get into weapons range, send out the information package as well as the declaration of the Moby leaving the legion and becoming a part of the Victor Corporation, including the crew who remain aboard it,” Hall said.

  “An aggressive act against the VCF Osdal will be seen as an act of war against the Victor Corporation,” Mark said.

  The command staff all looked to Mark. This kind of declaration wasn’t something to be taken lightly. They also knew that Mark wouldn’t waste his words.

  He was putting it all on the line. His actions made them all sit a bit straighter and harden their expressions.

  Hall was shocked at first, but it was quickly replaced with understanding. The Victor Corporation wasn’t just another corporation; it was a family.

  They were largely all from the EMF’s different branches, and Mark was publicly making a promise to his people, the Victor Corporation’s people, and the people who might look at them with bad intentions: Attack one of us, you attack us all. We don’t care who you are—we’ll take you on.

  “Yes, sir,” Guy said.

  Yeltsin was doing all he could to try to make the Osdal go faster and reach a point where they could escape the system. It wasn’t as quick as they’d like.

  “Ares fighters are sending a broadcast,” Guy said.

  “Broadcast our intentions as well as the information packet,” Hall said. “Celik?”

  “Weapons are ready. Panels are ready to open.”

  “Admiral, the Ares fighters are under orders to detain us for potentially harboring weapons of war and other items belonging to the legion or the Union. Basically, saying we’re weapons dealers. If we do not cut our engines, then we will be blacklisted and labelled as weapon runners pending a full investigation.”

  Hall looked over to Mark.

  “Well, looks like they’ve got us on that. We are running with a shitload of guns. Fuck ’em. Maybe save us from having to pay that corporation for the fabbers, Alcubierre drives, and parts.”

  “They just fired over the ship,” Rasalov said.

  “I’ve got a transit point. We’re fourteen minutes out!” Yeltsin said.

  “They’re hailing us again,” Guy said.

  “Put it through,” Hall said, getting pissed with this bullshit.

  “Admiral Hall, this is Captain Schmidt. Turn off your engines and await inspection or else be prepared to be fired upon,” Captain Schmidt said, clearly disregarding Hall’s rank.

  “Captain Schmidt, the Victor Corporation is not a part of your Union nor does it agree to the rules that you have put down or this clearly illegal maneuver to attack a civilian vessel that aided your legion in supporting the Ducharev line!” Hall said, disregarding Schmidt’s passive-aggressive manner.

  “Sir, if you do not cut your engines, we will disable your ship,” Schmidt said.

  Mark stepped up next to Hall. “He’s one of Hesra’s lackeys. Looks like he has never been on a true fire mission. Looks like Mommy fucked the right man, a nephew of someone in a senator’s household.”

  Hall had dealt with people from the corporations most of his life; it didn’t seem like these political types from the Union were any different.

  “Any hostile action taken by the Union will be seen as an act of war against the Victor Corporation and all subsidiaries,” Hall said. There was no way to get through to this man. He could only hope that this got through his thick skull.

  Hall cut the channel from his command seat.

  “Fucking jumped-up little shit, relying on his dad’s position,” Jerome said.

  “The Ares fighters have locked on to us,” Rasalov said.

  Celik looked to Hall, ready to activate the freighter’s weapon systems if needed.

  “If they launch, open up on them,” Hall said.

  “We’ve got a broadcast coming from the surface of the planet!” Guy put it through the speakers right away.

  “This is Legate Nerva. Admiral Hesra has gone rogue in his actions, putting personal gain ahead of the code of the legion. Anyone who takes aggressive action on the vessel known as the Victor Corporation Freighter Osdal will be in blatant disregard of the legions rules and regulations.”

  Hall didn’t know whether Nerva’s words were the truth or he was just buying them time. It didn’t matter much
to him.

  “Dismantling sail, four minutes,” Yeltsin said.

  Power requirements were based on the size of the craft, so with less sail then it would be more energy-efficient to use the Alcubierre drive.

  “The Ares fighters are no longer locked in and are making to pass around us,” Rasalov said.

  “Powering up drive!” Yeltsin said.

  The power from the Osdal fed into the two large rings on either end of the freighter. Red and blue colored stars appeared before the ship itself appeared in another location.

  The tension aboard the ship disappeared as they were no longer in the Otarvi system, but instead in a location between star systems.

  “Twenty minutes till rendezvous,” Guy said a few moments later.

  “Nicely done,” Mark said.

  “Once we’ve met up with the linking freighter, we’ll head for the Emarl system directly,” Hall said.

  “Sounds good to me. If you need me, I’ll be in the command center or working with the fabbers.” Mark excused himself, turning and moving for the door.

  “Every time I’m up here, fucking pucker right up. And they say troopers are adrenaline junkies,” Jerome said, commiserating with Mark as the two meatheads left the room.

  Hall grinned and turned back to the others.

  “All right, I want a full read out. Yeltsin, get me a plot back to Emarl. I want to be back as soon as possible. Guy, how is the Moby looking?”

  “Moby is green across the board. Their systems are checking out. Actually might be possible to link our power systems together, reduce our charge time and increase the distance we can travel.”

  “If it can be done, do it. We need to get back to base as soon as possible,” Hall said.

  With that, they all started to work on their different systems.

  The ship’s massive sails were deployed once again. The solar sails that had been added to them would allow them to recharge their battery banks faster.

  “Emergence,” Rasalov said. Space started to distort before a ship appeared close to the freighter.

  The previous inter-system freighter had been rigged up with all it would need to travel from system to system; Alcubierre drive and solar panels had been tacked on.

  The relatively “small” freighter was filled with parts that had been made by the fabbers of the Yard or bought.

  “We’re being hailed by Freighter B-17,” Guy said.

  “Connect us and give them a meet-up plot,” Hall said.

  “Connecting,” Guy said.

  The main screen changed from the tactical layout to show the crew of four who manned the freighter.

  “Captain Depah, good to see you,” Hall said, greeting the other captain.

  “You, too, Admiral. Is there a time estimate on the package?” Depah was a thin man, almost a twig, but he had a solid, reliable attitude that Hall appreciated.

  “Should be on its way momentarily.” Hall’s NIAI fed him a feed of a hatch opening as a combat shuttle sped out of VCF Osdal, heading for Freighter B-17.

  “We’ve got them on sensors,” Depah confirmed.

  “Good luck with your mission. Update me when you’re about to head out,” Hall said.

  “Yes, sir.” Depah closed the channel as Hall waited. The shuttle went over, dropping off the personnel aboard and then heading back to the freighter.

  A few minutes later, the freighter left the meet-up point and headed off on its mission.

  Waking up the EMF—shit gives me goose bumps just thinking about it. Hall watched the screen as it returned to the tactical layout.

  “Solar sails are stored, batteries are ready, and coordinates are good,” Yeltsin said.

  “Very well. Let’s go home,” Hall said. The freighter once again disappeared from real space.

  Chapter Eleven

  SLS Edilon

  Indalia Orbit, Otarvi System

  9/3555

  Hesra had watched the Ares fighters going for the VCF Osdal. They were enough to deter anyone, even at the size that the freighter Osdal was. Growing angrier, though, he listened into the communications between them and then heard Nerva.

  “Will be in blatant disregard of the legion’s rules and regulations.”

  By the time he saw the Ares pulling away, his blood boiled. Nerva had lied to them; he was sure of it. The fact was, though, they’d believed him. They’d believed Nerva over his orders. He squeezed his fists so hard he winced, opening one to reveal blood pricks from where his nails had dug in.

  Turning to his comms officer, he spat out, “Get the names of every single one of those pilots. They disobeyed direct orders—I will have their licenses for this!”

  Hesra waited till the information came across to him and then he turned. “I’ll be speaking with Senator Rimateus.” Wiping the blood away, he stormed off to his office, hoping that Rimateus would have some answers for him as well as an option or other plan of attack. Without the mergers, Rimateus would be fuming. He’d done the one thing he hoped he wouldn’t: he’d failed. Once secure inside his office, he looked for something to smash—anything. Of course, there was nothing.

  He never even got to sit down when Rimateus’s face exploded on his screen, alongside another image. He knew without really looking what and who it was. “You see this!” Rimateus pointed at the moving image. “This is everything I asked of you flitting out the window.”

  Silence spread between them.

  “If we don’t pull this back, and regain favor, we’re done. Do you understand?”

  Hesra knew it. He’d already been fighting to keep his standing within the legion. This act alone might tip him over the edge. His hands shook, but he forced them to stop. He kept eye contact with the senator. “I do, and do not worry. This will all but be a blip in our plans.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Earth

  Westerly Three Complex

  9/3555

  Dominguez checked the information coming from Emarl and the different pieces that were moving across space. Fourteen modified inter-system freighters were hopping from location to location toward their targets.

  Two of the massive VCFs other than Osdal and Fernix had been upgraded with Alcubierre drives now.

  Just the VCF Hope, Promise, and Novum were being upgraded or were waiting for the Alcubierre parts. In another week, they would all be rigged up and ready to use the Alcubierre drives.

  Although the Yard wasn’t in Sol anymore, the Victor Corporation’s roots were deep. The greenhouses of Earth as well as the Westerly Three Complex gang had come under their control.

  While the others were heading off to move the Yard, Dominguez was left behind to manage everything on Earth. So far, things had been anything but easy.

  The corporate infighting had only increased. Once they had found out that there was another group of humans in the universe, the corporations had split into three different groups: one that wanted to see whether they could trade with them, others that wanted to shut down the borders, and the third that wanted to take them over.

  Originally all of these ideas and thoughts would be indicated by Nivad Selvra. He was the leader of the EHC in everything but name.

  Now that he was dead, the corporations had tested their boundaries again and again. Different people had tried to increase their control.

  The main contenders were in an all out fight for the position, many had already been killed off or silenced with the infighting.

  The corporations weren’t just using the conference room to try to increase their power; all methods were usable now—including assassinations and bombings.

  For once, the corporations were doing the fighting and Dominguez was happy to let them do it.

  Dominguez rolled her shoulders as the elevator came to the end of its descent. She exited into a hallway that was built like a bunker. Formed of cermite and buried deep underneath the slums, it was one of the locations that the EMF had built in preparation of the Harmony War invasion, and that hadn’t made it i
nto the records held by the Ministry of Intelligence.

  Now it was controlled by the Westerly Three Crew.

  “General.” A man wearing full armor saluted as Dominguez approached.

  “How are things, Sergeant?” she asked.

  “Nice and quiet.” The sergeant pressed the command to open the thick reinforced doors that separated the elevator from the rest of the base.

  “That’s what I like to hear!” She stepped through the reinforced doors. Scanners and sensors checked her from head to toe as the outer door closed. A beep sounded and the inner doors opened.

  She exited into another tunnel with a repulsor at the end. She passed right in front of it and through another armored door before she was greeted with the sound of heavy machinery and people calling out to one another as they worked.

  “General.” A woman wearing fatigues saluted Dominguez.

  “Sun, you know how much I hate that crap.” Dominguez returned the salute.

  “Why do you think I do it so much?” Sun grinned.

  Dominguez rolled her eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. “All right, update me.” Dominguez moved to the walkways that ringed the multi-leveled working zone. This was the heart of the Westerly Complex Crew and the basis of their strength.

  “The fabber that Mark left behind is working like a treat. As you ordered, we’ve been using it to make larger fabbers only. We’re up to five level-two fabbers. We’ve moved them to separate work sites, with three making more level-two fabbers, with one producing level-one fabbers and the other making the modified Defender Armor. We have some fifty sets so far. All of them have been okayed by testing and are currently being run through physical tests.”

  “How many level-one fabbers do we have?” Dominguez asked as they passed a hangar filled with combat shuttles that waited in the dark, their sleek lines reflecting the light of the main fabrication plant.

  “We have twelve so far, with them pushed out over different sites as well. They are all manufacturing the new E14.”

  The E14 was technically the M19A but Mark had made it and given the rights to them to produce as many of the rifles as they wanted to.