Fallen Empire: Ten Davids, Two Goliaths (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Matthew Quinn

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Lindsay Buroker. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Fallen Empire remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Lindsay Buroker, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Ten Davids, Two Goliaths

  By Matthew W. Quinn

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  A bead of sweat trickled out from underneath Alliance First Lieutenant Geun Choi’s black hair. It wasn’t the first one. The perspiration had nothing to do with heat, since the narrow cockpit of his Striker-13 was colder than the evil heart of a singularity. His breath steamed as the minutes ticked by.

  “Status report, Raptor One,” crackled the voice of mission commander Captain Albert Geller in Geun’s earstar. Geun’s gaze drifted out of the Striker’s cockpit across the surface of the enormous gray asteroid toward the newer Striker-18. He frowned. Geller was close, and the transmission was tightbeam, but the enemy could easily be listening in.

  “Everything’s fine, Dragon One.” More steam on the air. “How long?”

  Silence fell. Geller had wanted no communications between the fighters until the time was right. This meant Geun couldn’t talk with Tammy. Keep himself occupied and keep her calm and not twitchy. The CAG had been giving her low doses of Psilex to wean her off the Rioters. It had been five weeks since she’d had a flashback, but now would be the worst possible time to have one.

  He shook his head. He needed to mind Geller.

  “Not long, Raptor One. Can you see them?”

  Geun looked up through the Striker’s narrow cockpit. Above the asteroid the Alliance fighters hid upon, silhouetted against an isolated blue-green world, floated the Imperial escort cruisers Achilles and Sarpedon. These long gray spears bristling with e−cannon and torpedoes were currently training green sailors, or so Alliance intelligence said.Two ships, each big enough to could suppress a planetary rebellion with troops or orbital bombardment, but small enough a pair of fighter squadrons could take them.

  Geun nearly snorted. Could. Maybe. If everything went right. “Yes sir.”

  “The asteroid’s orbit is an ellipse. In another hour we’ll be the closest before it takes us farther out again. A few minutes so we can cross their T and we’ll be ready to go.”

  Geun again had to stop himself from snorting. He could have just said “an hour ten” and been done with it. The purpose of what the Old Earth military history books called“radio silence” was to avoid alerting the targets. At least Geller didn’t say anything about just what they planned on doing.

  And this man has the best fighter. Geun’s gaze returned to the Striker-18. From the outside it didn’t look too different, a gray spearhead bearing torpedoes on its long, narrow wings. But it had superior sensors, superior cockpit technology...

  Technology Geller brought with him, Geun reproached himself. At great personal risk. The Alliance had recruited Geun from the underworld and supplied him with a fighter stolen from some Imperial boneyard, but Geller had arrived with his advanced fighter at an asteroid base nobody was supposed to know about with dry tanks and half-mad from thirst. However unlikely the Alliance’s chances of victory, Geun could respect that.

  “Understood, sir.”

  “Dragon One out.”

  The signal cut off. Geun’s gaze floated back up to thecruisers. If the Imperials had picked up their conversation they should give some sign. Firing their engines to move out of the gravity well, spreading apart so they couldn’t both be hit at once. Even if the cruisers were there to train the crews, they should have experienced officers.

  He pursed his lips. Of course, they could know the Alliance squadrons were there and only waited to appear ignorant. Wait for the fighters to begin their attack run and then butcher them. That’s what a smart captain would do, a smart and patient one.

  He straightened in his seat as much as the straps would allow, making a straight line from his neck to his hips. He inhaled. Focus on your breathing. That was what the abbot at the Saeloun Sudeoksa monastery back home had taught. He began counting down. Ten, nine, eight, breathe, seven, six, five, breathe...

  But try as he might, he couldn’t stop dwelling on the enemies overhead. Despite the cold cockpit, sweat began beading beneath his hair again. If surprise failed, if the Imperial ship opened up as soon as they started their attack run, it’d be a real short fight. Geun closed his eyes. They’d attack in an hour and change. If he spent that hour brooding about how they were going to die, he’d be in no shape to survive, let alone win.

  So instead he brooded about something else...

  ***

  Geun sat in the cockpit of his Striker-18 watching the pair of pirate ships bracketing the boxy civilian freighter when the call from his squadron commander shouted in his earstar. “Viper Three, this is Viper One,” ordered Captain Joseph Arnold. “Negotiations have failed and we have orders to go in.”

  Geun paled as much as his amber skin would allow. “Sir?”

  Arnold sighed. “You heard me, lieutenant. Those pirates won’t surrender. Never mind they have nowhere to run.”

  “But they have hostages. Sir —”

  “You want us to send in cyborgs? There aren’t any nearby, and we’d need to destroy those two pirate ships to get them onto that freighter anyway.” A pause. “And if they learn taking hostages will get them what they want, they’ll take more. We can’t allow that.”

  Geun swallowed. Arnold had a point. Before the squadron had been called out, he’d have even agreed with him. His gaze crept toward the two pirate craft and the freighter they’d taken. According to command there weren’t very many crew. Ten tops, and the pirates might need to keep a few to run the freighter.

  “Where are the crew? Did they take them off the freighter?” He prayed to the Buddha of the Triple Suns and to the bloody-eyed bodhisattva Begtse they hadn’t. If they hadn’t the time to spread their human shields around, hitting both the pirate ships wouldn’t be a problem.

  “No word, lieutenant.” A pause. “Viper Three, you take the pirate ship closest. Viper Two, you take the far one. I’ll provide support if either of you need it.”

  You should be the one taking the pirate ship. Geun bit off the treasonous thought. Arnold was the captain. Without discipline, without order, the Imperial Navy would collapse. The Empire would collapse, dooming the system to an eternity of war. And then the blasted Starseers might try something...

  And at least he was attacking the pirate ship. “Aye aye sir.” His fingers danced across the holographic controls, never once touching metal. The Striker’s engines kicked the fighter forward. His sensorspicked over the pirate ship for weaknesses. Maybe he wouldn’t have to destroy the ship. Cripple the weapons, cripple the drive, wait for Marines or even the Cyborg Corps to show up and take the ship themselves. Hell, the mechs could do it without any casualties worth noting.

  A quick squeeze and crimson e-cannon fire leaped across the empty blackness. The pirate’s shields shimmered. A quick second brought their murderous reply. Geun sent the Striker spinning, corkscrewing throughspears of killing energy and keeping the fire up.

  The enemy pulled away from the freighter, tearing free th
e umbilical connecting it to its prey. Geun almost smiled. The way the ship was moving, he’d cross their T in moments. He could hit them head on with his full load, and they couldn’t bring any side or rear armaments to bear.

  The shields protecting the pirate’s bow shimmered as his attack bit into them. A single e-cannon blast sliced too close to his bow. Geun kept the fire up. Within moments, his energy bolts scorched and chewed into metal. A ship designed for combat would have its command center well inside, but most civilian ships would have their bridge at the front.

  But what if they’d taken hostages? There was no indication they had. Ten minutes might not have been enough time to transfer the freighter crew onto the pirate ship, especially if the crew was uncooperative. But it might’ve been enough.

  Arnold’s voice crackled in Geun’s earstar. “Shields are down. Viper Three, why aren’t you tossing a torpedo? They’re not just shooting at you, they’re giving Viper Two and me trouble as well!” A pause. “Suns Trinity, that was close!”

  Geun’s hands shook. There was no sign the pirates had hostages. They could all be combatants, all worthy of the noose if they were taken alive. But maybe there were innocents trapped aboard the ship. He kept the fire going, his e-cannons drilling through metal into hopefully the enemy command center. “The hostages, sir! I’m cutting through the pirates’ bow now. I could finish them any second, leave them dead in space without any way to hurt—”

  A shout in rage on the other side of the transmitter. “There’s no time, Viper Three! You might not even be getting into a bridge! It’s still shooting. Torpedo now!”

  Geun kept firing. The ship’s hull grew cherry-red around where his blows struck true, but it was still firing on the Imperial Strikers. White gas vented from within. It wouldn’t be long now at all...

  “GEUN, THIS IS AN ORDER! FINISH IT BEFORE IT CAN GET ONE OF US!”

  Geun swallowed. “Sir.” Another gulp. “No sir.”

  A growl of fury from Arnold’s Striker. “If anything happens to Viper Two or me, you’ll swing for this.”

  “Sir, I know.”

  ***

  A sudden buzzing from his console jolted Geun out of his reverie. His dark eyes fell to the sound’s source. His stomach clenched. The LIDAR detector! The Imperial ships were scanning the asteroid! He looked up through the canopy at the two distant cruisers. If they opened up on the asteroid with e-cannons or torpedoes the Raptor and Dragon squadrons’ ten pilots would see them coming and — maybe — have the chance to spin up their engines and bolt. But that’d spoil the ambush. And the Imperials would know to watch out for that tactic in the future.

  The console buzzed again. Were the Imperials making multiple sweeps? If they’d detected the fighters on the asteroid’s surface but weren’t sure just what they were, a follow-up made sense. Then the bombardment would come and they’d have to beat feet to avoid getting shattered along with the asteroid.

  He opened his mouth to signal Geller. The mission commander had to be warned that one of his Strikers might be compromised. The odds weren’t good, taking on two enemy capital ships with so few fighters, but the odds were even longer if they didn’t have surprise on their side.

  Geun clamped his mouth shut. If the Imperials thought there might be a threat on the asteroid, their snoopers would probably be listening in. It would be even more essential to keep quiet now. He could do it. But what about the other members of the squadron? His gaze drifted toward where Tammy’s Striker sat on the asteroid’s surface. Could stress trigger a flashback? He’d tried to teach her the calming techniques the monks had taught him as a child, but she hadn’t taken to it as easily as he had.

  He breathed in and out. Focus on the here and now. He whispered his childhood mantras as the console buzzed a third time. He bowed slightly toward the console, his shoulders pushing against the black belts holding him against his seat. He could not control whether Tammy would panic or whether the Imperial bridge crews decided the asteroid merited further investigation. All he could control was how he reacted right now.

  A second passed with no buzzing. Slowly Geun allowed himself to exhale. He frowned. Holding one’s breath was not key to mindfulness. He inhaled, slowly and deliberately. Another second passed with no buzzing. Slowly, fitfully, hope rose. If the Imperials were going to attack, they’d be lighting up the asteroid with so much LIDAR that he’d feel it bouncing off his bones.

  Another second passed. Geun looked up toward the two Imperial warships. They weren’t falling behind the asteroid, nor did they pull ahead. Hmm. Keeping pace with the asteroid might be some kind of navigational exercise. If they were going to attack, they’d be orienting on the asteroid for a broadside.

  More time passed. Maybe the scan had been a drill too. Some newly-minted ensigns in the CIC needed training on LIDAR or accelerating the cruisers just right. Geun looked at his watch and nearly swore. It had only been around twenty minutes since Geller had given the time for the attack. Fifty more minutes of waiting.

  With nothing else to do, Geun returned to his brooding.

  ***

  His refusal to use his torpedoes ended his Naval career. Oh, there’d been a court-martial, after Imperial Intelligence’s mind-rapists went looking inside his head for any sign he’d been in league with the pirates. That was the prosecutor’s claim, and treason carried the death sentence.

  Luckily that charge hadn’t stuck, but even though they’d found two dead hostages and one live one aboard the pirate ship when it finally surrendered, he’d still been found guilty of insubordination in the face of the enemy. Arnold had surprised him, recommending he just be kicked out rather than sent to the Glasshouse or some dark hole where Intelligence would fiddle with his mind before sending him back out. The judge agreed, and so out on his ass he went. Out with a Bad Conduct Discharge, the “Big Chicken Dinner.”

  And that dinner left a sour taste in any potential employer’s mouth. None of the myriad law enforcement agencies fond of hiring ex-military even bothered writing back. And even though his actions had saved the lives of one hostage crewman, no civilian shippers called back either. And his parents were of no help. They had been so proud when he earned his wings— so much they’d stopped nagging him about when he’d get married— but now would barely speak to him.

  At the time he’d thought he’d deserved it, that a moment’s sentimentality had put more Imperial subjects at risk than he’d saved. He’d lived lean and saved his pay when he was in the service, but eventually that ran low. There were days where he’d looked longingly at the handgun he shouldn’t even have, only the Buddha’s precepts restraining him from eating it.

  And then he’d heard from a friend who’d mustered out and hadn’t turned his back on him that there were some people hiring ex-Imperial pilots. Security work, he’d said. Of course, they didn’t want their security guards asking too many questions and they didn’t pay well. But something was better than nothing. He soon found himself escorting what had to be shiploads of illegal drugs, flying something that wasn’t a Striker but had enough weapons on it to see off customs patrollers who asked too many questions. Thank the Buddha of the Three Suns he’d never had to fire on anybody...

  And that was where the Alliance found him. Offered him a fighter once again, the chance to hit the Empire back for what it’d done. The Alliance didn’t have a chance in hell—none of the rebellions against the Empire had ever succeeded in taking a single planet or accomplishing more than becoming glorified bands of pirates. And many factions were all too willing to kill innocents. But they had a Striker with his name on it.

  Something buzzed in Geun’s earstar.

  Chapter Two

  The buzzing snapped Geun back to attention. Brooding ate up time more efficiently than meditation, it seemed. The buzzes continued, a pattern he and Geller had planned before the mission to resemble random radio noise. But it wasn’t random noise. It was the signal to begin the attack.He fired up the engines on either side of the cockpit. He fe
lt the engines rumble through the body of the fighter. For a moment, he smiled.

  He shook his head. Business first. His gaze flicked to the icons of the other fighters on his console. Their engines glowed, indicating they’d gotten the signal as well. The Imperials would soon detect the heat flares on the asteroid’s surface, but it would buy the squadron precious seconds. “Raptor Squadron, this is Raptor One. Everything in order?”

  “Yes sir, Raptor One,” Tammy —Second Lieutenant Tamara Watson, Raptor Two — replied. “Ready to —”

  Geun’s gut clenched. “Understood, Raptor Two.” His eyes flitted toward the two Imperial cruisers. No indication they knew anything was coming. No indication yet.

  The three other Raptor Squadron pilots checked in by the numbers. No problems so far.“Remember the plan,” Geun ordered. “E-cannons first until the shields go down. Then torpedoes.” The fighters’power-plant could always recharge the e-cannon between passes on the cruisers, but Geun doubted the Alliance had enough torpedoes to arm a full fighter wing.

  “Aye aye sir,” Tammy replied. “Ready when you are.”

  “Everything all right over there?” Geun asked, keeping the question off the main channel. They didn’t need her to have a flashback or a panic attack. Not now. Tammy didn’t immediately reply. Geun bit off a curse. The CAG had sworn they were dosing her with the minimum needed to avoid withdrawals and nothing more. But it hadn’t been the CAG who’d sat with her when she had a panic attack and couldn’t fly for a week when the Alliance needed every pilot.

  “Everything’s fine, Raptor One.”

  “Good. Let me know right away if that changes.”

  If she had a flashback or, worse, a panic attack in the middle of the fight, she was dead and anybody nearby was likely dead too. She shouldn’t even be flying. But the Alliance needed every pilot.