by David Winnie
Colonel Albert’s voice came over the airlock’s intercom. “You have been sentenced to death for treason, fomenting rebellion and murder. Do you have any last words?”
“Yes! Tell that little bitch the Savior is coming!” he screamed. “He will smite her down and save all of Terra from the mutants and freaks the galaxy!” He puckered his lips and spat. “That’s for you, FREAK!”
The warning alarm sounded. A countdown could be heard as he raged. He screamed one last insult as the external door opened. The rush of the air yanked him towards the void. Only the belt at his waist kept him from flying out of the ship. The last of the air was soon gone and a layer of frost began coating everything in the room.
A tiny puff of vapor escaped his nose and mouth. He gasped, then gasped again. His hands went to his neck as his chest tried to expand, seeking precious air. He writhed in the chair as scales of ice covered him. Blood seeped from the corners of his eyes and floated from his ears. The flashing red light at the bottom of the holo showed his heart accelerating. He convulsed and jerked, trying desperately to breathe. His motions stopped after five minutes. Four more minutes, the flashing red light stopped as well.
“Damnit,” Annika swore. She handed Admiral Thiessen a fifty-credit chip. “I should have known better than to bet you, Uncle.”
“Well, I’ve attended more spacings than you have, Annika,” he replied as he pocketed the coin.
Lieutenant Rita Rivas bounded into the room. “Hey, Mousey,” she called. “Shake a leg. Lord Klerrks called a half a dozen times wondering where we’re at.”
She noticed Admiral Thiessen. “Uh, um, Admiral.” Rita stammered, “I just came by to get Mouse, I mean Captain Russo…Uh…”
“At ease, Lieutenant Rivas,” the admiral smiled. “I know what you mean. The Khan will be ready momentarily.
Minister Howland will be with you on Lord Klerrk,” he said. “I would advise you listen to his directions and act accordingly. You have come so far, Annika. I will see you on Terra in five weeks.”
“Five weeks, Uncle.” She gathered Rita and left for her ship.
“You dumb pftooting, don’t you ever look and see…” he heard Annika admonishing Rita as the doors closed.
She sat at the desk, her hands folded before her. Ten days before, the two main battle groups had departed Mykonos.
The Empire was uneasy. The news channels were full of conflicting reports about the happenings on Mykonos. The Regent’s office was silent, declining to comment.
Defense Minister Howland was unavailable.
Prime Minister Moritz Stype had appeared on several news programs after a week of uncertainty. “There is nothing to be concerned with,” he assured the reporters. “Mykonos was a minor operation. The lack of news is probably Fleet Admiral Thiessen performing a post attack inspection. This is a common practice after a military operation; it provides an excellent opportunity to identify mistakes made during the campaign and correct any deficiencies.”
“We will have to replace him when we get to Terra.” Howland said. “He knows something is going on and isn’t doing a good job covering it up.”
The broadcast was her idea. After watching the Prime Minister’s performance, she fretted some of her military’s consciences might be vacillating as to who had legal authority to lead the Empire. She didn’t want to lose a single soldier to a mistake in judgement. The Law was on her side. She had to show that to the Empire.
Howland agreed. If a single soldier’s life was saved, he was in favor of her broadcast.
She looked square into the camera lens and began.
“Greetings. I am Crown Princess Annika Raudona Russolov Khan, Goddess/Queen of Terra, Imperial Army Captain, on temporary assignment from my squadron, the 433rd Bombardment, based on the Imperial carrier, Vengeance.
“I am broadcasting to you, the loyal soldiers of my Army and my Fleet, so you understand precisely what is happening. Twenty-two years ago, a terrible crime was perpetrated against our Empire and against me personally. My father, Emperor Robert De L’Orange Khan was murdered. The murder had never been satisfactorily investigated.
“My father was a great Khan, a fine man, loyal friend and dedicated servant to the Empire. When he was murdered, the Imperial Council panicked and appointed his brother, the inferior Ming si Haun, to be the new Khan. This was not in keeping with the Law my ancestor, the Great Khan, had laid down.”
The corner of her mouth turned up slightly. “Nineteen years ago, you may recall, I pointed out that Ming si was unsuitable to be Khan. He was reduced to Regent by the council, even thought there was no provision in the Law for a Regent. Six years ago, a horrendous crime was again perpetrated against me and our Empire, with the mysterious raider attack during my Naming Ceremony. One hundred forty thousand of our citizens were murdered, including four of my brothers and my beloved sister. The Regent has never explained where these raiders came from, nor has anyone, save the officers who failed the Empire in the Command post, been identified or punished.
“The File Committee selected me to serve the Empire as Khan. I have served alongside you as a soldier and a pilot. I have dived through hostile atmospheres to drop bombs and fired my weapons at enemies who threatened my comrades. I have seen our lives thrown away needlessly by a gross inferior who is sitting on my throne, sending us to die for no reason. I have watched the decline of my Empire, the endless excuses his failures.
“I have watched my Empire dying.”
“ENOUGH!” she thundered, slamming her fist on the desk. “I will not idly sit by one more day and watch a single soldier die because the Regent is more concerned with lining his pockets. I shall no longer sit back and watch my Empire grow weaker while our enemies grow stronger.
“The Law of Succession clearly states that when the Khan dies, the File Committee will name the new Khan. I am that Khan. I have formed my War Council. As per the Law, I order the Imperial Council be dissolved and all the left-hand ministers arrested. This is to include Morris Stype.
“I appoint Admiral Thor Thiessen as my War Lord and order him to arrest the Regent Ming si Haun NeKhan and bring him before my War Council on Terra. I appoint Gavin Howland as my Minister of Civilian Affairs, to run my government.
“Each of you, sworn soldiers of my Army, of my Fleet. Officers and enlisted. Men, women and beings. Terran and non-Terran. Each of you swore an oath, the same oath I swore. We swore to follow the Law and defend the Empire against all enemies.
“The enemy is on the throne now. He has surrounded himself with traitors who will try to convince you I am not suitable to be Khan, that the Imperial Council’s voice outweighs the Laws Angkor Khan gave us.
“They will try and convince you that I am the traitor.
“I ask each of you to look to the Law and ask yourself: Am I upholding the vow I took when I swore to defend the Empire? Or have I become a willing slave to those who waste my life because it would profit them, instead of my Empire?
“After this broadcast, you will receive a list. These are the officers confirmed to be traitors. If you are true to your oath, you will arrest and detain them. If those around you are forsaking their oaths, then you must resist them to your dying breath.
“To my enemies on Argulea and Terra, hear this. I am coming.”
Chapter 28
Nothing good ever happens between midnight and dawn. Gavin Howland was taught that as a young officer. His experiences over the last fifty years had only confirmed it. The incessant pounding on the door of his stateroom onboard the Lord Klerrks Revenge at this hour could only mean bad news.
A black girl wearing ensign pips on her collar was waiting. “Sir,” she said, “General Han is calling from Terra. Priority Epsilon, channel Villa One.” Howland was awake. “Notify the Crown Princess. My respects, I’ll meet her in the Command briefing room in ten minutes.”
Bad news indeed; Priority Epsilon was just about as bad as it could get. And to risk using Villa One, the ultra-secret otherspace chann
el. Not even Intelligence knew of the Villa series of channels. He threw on his robe, splashed water on his face and smoothed back thinning grey hair.
His aging body hurried to the briefing room and had just arrived when the Crown Princess entered. Gavin wished he knew her secret. Her uniform was perfect, her golden hair impeccable. She settled into her place at the head of the table. “Minister Howland. I am assuming something has happened, to meet at this hour.”
Howland nodded. “An Epsilon Priority message from Terra.”
“Proceed.”
He placed his hand flat on the onyx surface. “Howland, Gavin,” he announced. “Execute priority Epsilon.” A holo appeared on the table.
It had been six years since Annika had seen General Han. He hadn’t aged a bit, still the stocky bald officer with a firm jaw and warm eyes. He bowed and announced, “Crown Princess. Minister Howland. I have received a priority message from Celtius Four which requires your immediate attention.”
A worn, tired vision appeared. “This is Rory Grant, of Celtius Station. We have had an outbreak of Tyrus Phage here on Celtius Four. I have initiated Omega protocol. We will have the information packet available for transmission as soon as the fleet arrives.” The image winked out.
“Gods.” breathed Gavin. “Tyrus Phage.”
“Who is the closest Battlegroup, General Han?” asked the Crown Princess.
“Yours, Highness.”
“Very well. Convey this message to Admiral Thiessen. Inform him we shall be delayed by…” she looked to Howland.
“To do the job properly,” he pondered. “Seventy-two hours.”
“Very well. Seventy-two hours. Orders to the fleet, maximum speed.”
Annika put in a call for Yuri. A sunlit jungle loomed behind him. “Annika!” he grinned. “What a wonderful surprise! How is our child?”
She had told him a week ago. He was head over heels with joy over the wonderful news. He was being awfully silly about their child. Like today. The baby was barely a month formed. How could it possibly feel?
“We are well, my love. Yuri, I have terrible news. I just received a message from Terra Command. About Celtius Four.” She swallowed. “It is Tyrus Phage.”
His face paled. “Gods below,” he breathed. “There’s no mistake?”
Annika shook her head. “Rory Grant himself sent the message. He’s instituted the Omega protocols.”
Yuri lowered his head. “Yes, that’s best. It’s the only way. Who is the closest Battlegroup?”
“Mine.”
Yuri’s eyes locked with hers. “They’ll be glad it’s you, Annika,” he said.
She sighed. “Do you want me to call you before…?”
Yuri shook his head. “No. Just do it. Show them mercy.”
Tyrus Phage was a biological weapon from Terra’s ancient wars. Designed for human physiology, it mutated, destroying any life form to which it was exposed. It attacked through skin, forming colonies under the epidermis, presenting as large red and green blotches. A week after exposure, the victims became catatonic as their internal organs were consumed. Days later, they died. Rather than dying with the host, the phage continued to multiply, feeding on the corpse. The entire body was consumed and a new colony formed. One hundred percent infectious, one hundred percent fatal. And the phage would live for years, feeding on its victim before going dormant.
The only effective way of treating the phage was immolation. Wars would be stopped and enemies would unify to burn every square inch of an infected planet.
Thirty hours after receiving the message from Terra, the Lord Klerrks Revenge Battle Group had arrived at Celtius Four.
A fatigued, red haired woman appeared on the holo. She was clearly infected, the red/green swelling of the Tyrus Phage in dark splotches on her face.
“Katy?” Annika asked.
Katy O’Brien gasped, then smiled. “Raudona. I’m so glad it’s you.”
“I’m glad to be here too, Katy. Do you have the records ready to transmit?” Annika asked.
“Transmitting now,” Katy replied. “We’ve all followed you since your Naming Day. Imagine, our little Raudona, a princess and a war hero. You’ve made us all so proud.”
“Did I ever thank you enough, Katy?” Annika asked. “You and Mrs. Adams and Mister Grant? All the rest? You all helped me so much to grow up.”
“All teenagers go through it, Sweetie,” the doomed woman responded. “But I’m glad we were there for you.”
“Yuri and I will be having a baby.” Annika said,
“Oh, Raudona, that’s wonderful.” Katy sighed. “The download is complete. Rory, before he died, wanted me to tell you that he included a vid of the ship that did this.” Of course, there had to be a ship involved. The phage was a weapon.
“Raudona…” Katy’s voice caught. “Raudona, it’s time. Do the colony first.”
Annika muted the comm. “Target the colony,” she said, her voice husky, shaken. “Transfer fire control to my station.” The weapons officer reported ready. She clicked the comm back on. “Good bye, Katy. I love you.” She pressed the firing button. The eight meson rifles fired.
For three days, the fleet orbited Celtius Four, pounding the surface. The ships fired in a precisely plotted attack plan, ensuring that every inch of the planet’s surface burned.
Midway through the second day, the planet’s mantle split. Lava began to surge from its core.
Annika stood in the conference room window, arms crossed. A junior officer made the mistake of offering her a chair. Her backhand slap broke his jaw, sending him flying across the room.
Rita stood with her for hours on end. She would check Annika’s electrolyte levels and offer her the necessary dose. Annika would drink her fluids, staring at the planet below as her Battlegroup’s work went on unceasingly.
On the third afternoon, the atmosphere suddenly flared and burned off. The fleet continued to fire, making sure the phage was consumed. Precisely seventy-two hours after the Crown Princess pressed the firing stud, the weapons of the Lord Klerrks Revenge went silent.
Celtius Four was once again a lifeless world.
Gavin Howland joined Annika in the conference room. “The warning buoys have been set,” he told her, “and the mines are all in place. The last ship will close off the planet when we leave.” Four buoys would warn any ship away from the planet; thousands of mines now circled the Celtius system to ensure no being could ever land there and try to locate any sign of the phage.
“My regards to the Admiral,” Annika said. “Set the fleet course for Terra. Maximum speed is ordered. Faster would be better. I have the future of my Empire to attend to.” Her cogitating of the stars went on, unabated.
Admiral Thiessen’s fleet had come to Argulea. The Crown Princess’s message had clearly had an effect. Two full fleets, more than one hundred capital ships, had been sent by the Regent to intercept the Admiral’s. With no exception, all joined the Khan.
Admiral Thiessen had acquired a pair of Azanhti’s sister ships, the Aziana and the Azakana. Each brought a full Battle Group with them. In all, his fleet now had five thousand fighters and bombers.
The Admirals were all old friends. Hector Ruiz, whose granddaughter was the Khan’s personal bodyguard, had been a classmate of Thiessen’s at the academy. Laura Moss had served with both over the years.
Admiral Moss brought the information on Arguela. The Regent was having difficulty mustering anyone to his cause. Very few of the officers on the Khan’s enemy list had actual combat experience. Most had been political appointees. None had fleet battle proficiency.
“Their ships are a mixed bag,” Admiral Moss reported. “Plenty of cutters, six newer destroyers. The heavies are all museum pieces. They are converting civilian ships into fighters by attaching weapons to them. They have a handful of Buccaneers and several squadrons of the old Scimitar fighters. They’ll have to use cutters carrying missiles if they want to attack us with small ships.
“For Arguela’s
planetary defense, there are twin command stations in orbit and several manned outposts. They control at least fifty weapons platforms, ranging from missile batteries to old-fashioned lasers. They have several thousand mines, but the fools haven’t deployed them yet.
“General Kelly refused to join the Regent after they heard the Khan’s message. The Regent arrested him along with his senior staff. He has put junior officers and politicians in charge. A few of the regular army has joined them, most of the army mutinied a week ago and has dispersed into the civilian population. They have confined what’s left of the army into their barracks. There is a fanatic militia band that call themselves the Imperial Guard. The Regent has been supporting them for years, they’re well-armed and dug in around the Palace of Amaar. Most of the Imperial Guard have little or no combat experience. They seem to be mostly fanatics and week-end warrior types, but I wouldn’t discount them. Some of their members are ex-army.”
“So, we’ll blow through their fleet, then dig them out of the palace,” observed Ruiz. “I see a weakness we can exploit…”
Colonel Mickey Morando saluted the launch officer of the Aziana. The sled holding his heavy Manta bomber released and he guided it into open space. Half again as long and twice as wide as the Icarus, the Manta had a three-person crew and carried nearly five times as much weaponry as the Icarus.
Morando hadn’t risen to command of a bomber wing by being imprudent. His mentors had pounded into his head repeatedly, Perfect planning makes the perfect attack. Admiral Ruiz had attended the briefing personally. “Their Fleet Commander is an old infantry officer,” he had told them, “so he’s used to thinking of a two-dimensional battlefield. We’re taking advantage of this by introducing the old fool to the third dimension.”
The Regent’s fleet would be confronted by the Azahnti battle group. Admiral Thiessen was gambling the enemy would rush his ships to confront Azahnti. Meanwhile, the Aziana and Azakana battle groups would come out of otherspace on the far side of the system, obscured by the sun. Colonel Morando’s strike would wait in the sun’s photosphere until the attack order was given.