Blood on the Stars Collection 1
Page 1
Blood on the Stars
Books 1-3
Duel in the Dark
Call to Arms
Ruins of Empire
Jay Allan
Copyright © 2016 - 2017 Jay Allan Books
All Rights Reserved
Contents
Blood on the Stars Series
Duel in the Dark
Call to Arms
Ruins of Empire
The Crimson Worlds Series
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Blood on the Stars Series
(Available on Kindle Unlimited)
Duel in the Dark (Blood on the Stars I)
Call to Arms (Blood on the Stars II)
Ruins of Empire (Blood on the Stars III)
Echoes of Glory (Blood on the Stars IV)
Cauldron of Fire (Blood on the Stars V)
Dauntless (Blood on the Stars VI)
The White Fleet (Blood on the Stars VII)
Black Dawn (Blood on the Stars VIII)
Invasion (Blood on the Stars IX)
Nightfall (Blood on the Stars X)
The Grand Alliance (Blood on the Stars XI)
The Colossus (Blood on the Stars XII)
The Others (Blood on the Stars XIII) – Coming Soon
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Duel in the Dark
Blood on the Stars I
Duel in the Dark
The Confederation battleship Dauntless has spent ten months patrolling the border, alone, watching for an attack from the enemy Union. Her crew is exhausted and the aging vessel needs repairs. With the fleet mobilized, and the forward bases overloaded beyond capacity, she is sent clear across the Confederation, to a base along the peaceful and sleepy sector known as the Rim. But the quiet frontier isn't what it seems, and when a distress call is received from a mining colony at the edge of Confederation space, Captain Tyler Barron must take Dauntless forward into the unknown.
Chapter One
Excerpt from Kimball’s The Rise and Fall of Civilization
The Cataclysm wasn’t a single event, and it didn’t take place all at once. Wars, corruption, rogue politicians, complacent populations…all played their part in the final catastrophe. But when the end came, it came quickly. The inner worlds—those closest to Earth, the oldest and richest—fell the farthest and the fastest. Most of them are lifeless ruins today, surrounding the haunted remains of mankind’s birthplace.
It was out on the fringes that some semblance of civilization survived, and it was there that mankind began to rebuild. The first century AC was dominated by the growth of individual worlds that had preserved at least some level of the earlier technology. These planets were able to grow quickly into interstellar nations, using their science to entice—or coerce—their neighbors to join them.
The rising nations grew along the surviving Schwerin transit lines. Where the transwarp links still existed, communications, trade—and war—could move from system to system. Little is known of the worlds whose transwarp lines were destroyed in the Cataclysm, save for the occasional radio signal attesting that some people survive there, outside the functional transport system. How many of those planets have slid fully into barbarism, or extinction, and how many continue to rebuild, to grow, trapped in their solar systems, remains a mystery.
Mankind’s rise from the Cataclysm has been as violent and warlike as his slide into destruction. There are a few bright spots, like the Confederation, which offers some level of freedom to its inhabitants. But most humans who survive in the centuries after the Cataclysm live under despots and oligarchies, and few know any level of liberty. And everywhere, the nascent nations are at war, struggling for worlds, power, tech…pushing ever closer back to the brink.
AS Vindictus
Approaching Heliopolis, Steggus II
Alliance Year 58 (307 AC)
Vindictus shook hard, the bridge lights flickering for an instant.
Katrine Rigellus stared straight ahead, paying no mind to the beating her ship was taking. At least none that her crew could see.
Another hit, a bad one this time…
She could imagine the impact on her ship’s hull, the massive heat from the deadly blast, Vindictus’s armor melting, buckling, space ripping into the compromised compartments below. Men and women dying, incinerated by the heat of the plasmas or sucked out into space through great rents in the hull.
The Helian primary batteries were focused plasma beams, highly advanced weapons, well beyond standard Alliance technology. Gaining access to the enemy’s science would be as great a spoil as adding a new highly industrialized world to the Alliance. It was enough reason alone to fight this war. But before the fruits of victory could be gathered, the Alliance’s warriors would have to run the gauntlet, drive straight into the teeth of the enemy’s deadly weapons and win the victory.
Kat’s body was tense. She could feel the effects of the stimulant she’d taken before the fighting began, the edginess, the increased awareness. She’d been in battle before, many times, and it was always the same. The almost electric feeling as her mind raced, analyzing each bit of information, constantly moving and reprioritizing her focus.
There was something else there too, a feeling that lurked below the surface, nagging at her but never taking control. It was one she pushed back against, fought. It had always been there, but it had grown stronger over the years, intensifying with each promotion, each new mission. Was it fear? Alliance officers weren’t supposed to feel fear. Or at least they weren’t supposed to admit it, even to themselves. But if it was fear, it was of failure, not of danger. Kat was ready to die in battle if her time came—it was the way of things—but the thought of failure, of returning home in disgrace, was too terrible to imagine.
The battle had been fierce, the resistance far stronger than the intel reports had suggested. That was no surprise to Kat. She tended to have little regard for intelligence officers, less even than was common among the Alliance military in general. She suspected the image of fearless operatives risking their lives on missions to gain priceless information was almost a complete fabrication, an illusion designed to add nobility to a bunch of deck jockeys who spent their time paying off informants and analyzing communications intercepts, while Palatian men and women like Kat were on the front lines, fighting like honest warriors. The Alliance was a martial society through and through, and the Palatians considered themselves the greatest fighters in the galaxy. As far as Kat was concerned, skulking around in the shadows was beneath the dignity of a true warrior.
Vindictus was in the vanguard of the invasion, tasked along with her fellow lead vessels with smashing the Helian orbital defenses and securing the way for the troopships to land on the planet. It was a position of honor, one she knew she should regard that way. But she had seventeen dead on Vindictus already. She did her duty, always—and she would give her life in the service if that was her fate—but as she’d grown older and advanced in rank she’d found herself struggling more with watching the men and women under her command die. She kept her feelings to herself, of course. Such thoughts would be deemed signs of weakness, perhaps enough to derail a career that had, to date, been exemplary and unspotted. Death in battle was the highest honor a Palatian could achieve, and th
ere was no place in the service for differing points of view.
“Engineering reports significant damage to the outer compartments, Commander, but our major systems remain fully-functional. Several overloads, but all disabled systems have been rerouted.”
Katrine snapped her head toward her tactical operations officer. Tylian Wentus was Vindictus’s third-in-command, and Kat’s main link to what was happening on her ship. Alliance protocols were heavily based on the chain of command, and it was considered beneath a ship commander to issue orders directly, except in the direst emergencies. She tended to think such practices were pure idiocy, but she was a creature of duty, and it wasn’t her place to question things.
“Very well, Optiomagis. Maintain course and thrust.”
“Yes, Commander.” Wentus’s tone was as sharp and crisp as her own.
Kat turned back toward the main display. She knew her officer well. Very well. They’d even engaged in a brief fling during their Academy days. It had been little more than recreation, and certainly nothing she’d consider resuming now that he was under her command. Alliance society tended to frown on romantic relationships and attachments, viewing them as distractions from duty, and instead encouraged casual affairs. Sex had its place for relaxation and stress relief between campaigns—and, of course, for reproduction with genetically-compatible partners—but it had little place on a ship at war. And petty sentiments had none. Not on a warship. Not anywhere in Alliance society.
Wentus’s service had been exemplary since he’d been assigned to Vindictus half a year before, but Kat still wondered if her tactical officer harbored any resentments. They’d graduated in the same class, but Wentus came from normal Citizen stock, while her family was Patrician. Kat’s father had been a hero, killed heroically in battle, while Wentus’s parents had been journeyman officers who had served well but achieved little distinction. The divergence in their career trajectories had been entirely predictable, and while Kat knew she had earned every promotion and decoration she had received, she questioned how her old lover saw it from his lower position on the chain of command.
Those thoughts were all secondary, drifting through the back of her mind. Her focus on the battle was unbroken, her eyes staring right at the main display when the icon representing Draco winked out of existence.
Commander Ellus…his entire crew…
Her eyes were locked on the display. Draco had been one of the lead ships, about fifty thousand kilometers ahead of Vindictus. It had been hit several times on the approach, and the records showed it had sustained moderate damage in the long-range missile exchanges, but Kat was stunned the big capital ship had been destroyed already. Her fingers moved over her controls, pulling up the last data transmitted from the stricken vessel. It confirmed her suspicions. Something powerful had hit the battleship. Something unexpected, a weapon strong enough to destroy a capital ship with one shot.
So much for the intelligence services…
The Helians were well known for their advanced technology. Perhaps they had a new weapon, something they’d kept secret. If so, the entire Alliance fleet was in danger.
“Get me Optiomagis Hyllus.” Hyllus was her fighter commander. He and his four squadrons had launched ten minutes earlier, and they were deployed around Vindictus in a standard defensive formation. She knew she probably should have passed the order through Wentus, but she had a bad feeling about what was going on, and she intended to stay on top of it.
“Optiomagis Hyllus on your com line, Commander.”
“Optio, I want you to move your squadrons forward. Scout out the far side of the second moon, and report back immediately.”
“All squadrons, Commander?”
“Yes, Optio, all squadrons. Now.”
“Yes, Commander.” Hyllus’s response was hard, disciplined, but she caught a hint of surprise too. Kat knew the chance she was taking. Without her fighters, or at least a few squadrons on defensive patrol, her ship would be vulnerable to enemy sorties. The Helians hadn’t shown so much as a single interceptor yet, but she knew that was only a matter of time. The intelligence reports suggested there were more than three hundred fighters in the orbital forts, and Kat suspected the true number was close to double that.
But there’s something beyond that moon…
“Get me Commander Quellus.” Her orders to her fighter groups had come close to exceeding her authority, an act of instinct and not of procedure. That fact hadn’t stopped her, and it didn’t compel her to cancel the orders. But she had to report it to the commander of the advance guard.
“Commander-Altum Quellus on your com.”
“Sir, I believe we have detected something behind…”
She twisted to the side and pulled off her headset as a loud screeching sound blared through the speakers. Her eyes darted up to the main display, but in her gut she knew what had happened.
She stared at the screen, at the empty spot where Quellus’s flagship had been. She paused, just for an instant. Then she sprang into action, instinct taking over.
“All fighter squadrons, full thrust. Move around the moon, and engage any enemy vessels or installations.” She snapped the order toward Wentus, and before he’d even acknowledged, she was crouched over her small workstation, running a calculation.
She looked up a few seconds later. “Engine room, full thrust now, course 134-67 mark 3.6.” Her eyes darted back to the operations officer, catching a slight, surprised hesitation. “Now!” she snapped. “Get us around the far side of that moon!”
She reached down, grabbing her restraints and clicking them into place. The rest of the bridge officers were doing the same. Full thrust meant a rough ride, heavy g-forces, especially with the radical course change. But Kat knew she had to get around the moon, and she had to do it from the far side. Before the rest of the fleet advanced into a deathtrap.
I just hope we’re in time…
* * *
“Julianus is gone too, Commander.” Wentus was having trouble hiding the concern in his voice. Julianus was the fourth Alliance battleship destroyed. There was definitely some kind of weapon behind the moon.
No, a superweapon…
Vindictus’s fighters had whipped around a few minutes before, but they were cut off from direct communications. She’d had a passing hope that Hyllus would send one of his birds back with a report, but she knew it wasn’t possible. The squadrons had been moving fast, and it would take at least five minutes for one to reverse course and reach clear line of sight to make a transmission—especially since Vindictus was blasting full toward the other side. Kat wouldn’t know what she was facing until her ship came around the other side of the moon. In three minutes.
She sucked in a deep breath, a struggle at the high g’s her ship was pulling. She’d had years of training and experience, but she’d never quite gotten used to being squashed as her ship raced to battle.
“Bring us into orbit, Optio. Snap us around with a gravity assist. I want as much velocity as we can get as we come to bear.”
“Yes, Commander. Adjusting course and thrust.”
Kat nodded, staring ahead, trying to ignore the knot in her gut. This wasn’t her first time leading Vindictus into battle, certainly, but for the first time she had a feeling the result of the entire battle rested on her actions.
She knew she was acting on her own, without authorization, without even coordinating with the other ships of the advance guard. But there was no choice, no time to waste. There were almost a dozen battleships ahead of Vindictus, and they were heading directly into the enemy kill zone, their velocities too high to allow a course change in time. If she didn’t succeed, the Helians would hand the Alliance the worst defeat in its sixty-year history.
“Ninety seconds, Commander.”
Kat sat still, waiting. She could see the moon on the scanner, close now, Vindictus swinging around barely five hundred kilometers from the surface. The grav assist was a difficult maneuver, especially when it took a ship this c
lose, but she was confident her people could handle it.
“All weapons, prepare to fire as soon as we come around…” She didn’t have a target yet, but she was confident there would be one. And whatever it was, it had to be destroyed.
“All primary batteries charged and ready to fire, Commander. Torpedo tubes loaded and armed.”
Her eyes darted back to the main screen. The icons representing the fleet were still there, but they had hazy circles around them, the computer’s way of indicating the information displayed was historical, that no new scanning data was coming in. The moon was between Vindictus and her fellow Alliance vessels. She and her people were on their own.
“One minute.”
The bridge was silent. Kat knew her people knew what to do. They were veterans, most of them at least. And the few newbs on board were still trained Alliance warriors, raised since birth to serve and graduates of the harshest training program ever devised. They would do whatever was necessary. She was sure of that.
“Thirty seconds.”
Kat took a deep breath, centering herself. She pushed the emotions aside, banishing fear, worry, regret, to the depths of her mind. A familiar coldness flooded through her, her focus intensifying. She was ready. Ready to face whatever was waiting for her ship behind the moon.
“Coming around now, Commander.”
Her eyes were already on the screen. There was a delay, no more than a few seconds, while new scanner data came in, and the computer updated the display. And when it did, she almost gasped.
What the hell is that?
It was a construct of some kind, over four kilometers in length, hovering in high orbit around the moon. Even looking at the sanitized icons displayed on the screen, she could feel the menace of it. And around it, standing like a pair of sentinels, floated two of the biggest orbital fortresses she had ever seen.