by Jay Allan
The line was quiet for a moment, nothing more than faint background static. Then Vennius spoke again. “Yes, Drusus. One thing.” Another pause. “You can bring Bellator to battlestations.”
Chapter Sixteen
Free Trader Pegasus
Ventica System
900,000,000 Million Kilometers from Dannith
309 AC
Lafarge sat in her chair on Pegasus’s cramped bridge. It was shiny and clean, far cleaner than she’d ever remembered it, old, worn panels and chairs replaced with pristine new ones. Admiral Striker was nothing if not a man of his word. He’d agreed to fix her ship, and he’d done a first-class job of it.
It felt like home to be back where she was, and she longed to feel settled, at peace, at least to whatever extent she ever did. But now she was leaning forward in her chair, tense, almost like a great cat ready to spring on a moment’s notice. Her stomach was tight, and her hands were intermittently clenching around sweaty palms. She’d thought her time with Tyler Barron was done, at least until fate threw them into each other’s paths again. She’d nursed a thought or two about one day giving pure destiny an assist, but not for some time still. Barron had a war to fight, and she had a job to do as well. But now none of that mattered to her. Rolf Shugart’s words had been utterly unexpected, but the instant she’d heard them, she knew what she had to do.
She’d rounded up her crew and blasted off, barely asking for clearance before she did. She knew rationally that Dauntless would be gone before she could catch her, but she had to try. She had no idea where Barron’s ship was heading, and her hurried but thorough attempts to find out had achieved little success. She knew Dauntless had departed for the Vestara transit point, but that was all. Either her contacts—and her contacts’ contacts—really knew nothing about the battleship’s ultimate destination, or they were maintaining ironclad secrecy.
Vestara seemed an odd choice for a vessel heading back to the front lines, and the transfer of a ship back to the main fleet didn’t seem a secret important enough to shut down all her intelligence sources. Every failed attempt to learn where Barron was going only increased her concern. She had to reach him. She had to tell him what she’d learned from Shugart.
“Dauntless isn’t here, Andi. We’ve searched everywhere. There are no publicly-accessible records of her transiting, but she must have gone through the Vestara point.” Merrick maintain his usual professional tone, perhaps with a touch of softness thrown in. Lafarge’s crew all knew about her relationship with Barron—she wasn’t sure how, as she hadn’t told anyone. But they had a way of finding things out, and thinking back, she realized she probably hadn’t hidden her interest well.
“I have to find him.” She spoke softly, her words meant only for herself, but Pegasus’s bridge was a small place, and she suspected Vig had heard her. Whether he did or not, her friend didn’t react.
“Set a course back to Dannith, Vig. I’m sorry, I know we were all set to head back into the Badlands, but I’ve got something I have to do. I can’t ask any of you to come, but I’ll return here when I’m done, and, if you’re all still around, we can go on our next expedition.”
“You have to chase Tyler Barron and Dauntless, that much is obvious. I don’t know why, since you’ve been as tight-lipped as I’ve ever seen you. But you’re not hiding the worry as well as you think. You have to give us credit, Andi. We know you well, perhaps better than you think.”
She looked over at her first officer—her best friend. She was surprised for an instant…until she suddenly realized she wasn’t. She knew her people, and she was underestimating them in assuming they were any less perceptive than she. “I’m sorry, Vig. I’m not trying to hide anything. I’m just…” Her voice drifted off. She wasn’t sure what to say. She was an intensely private person in most ways, even around those she trusted, like her crew. But more than that, she was wrestling with her feelings for Barron. She had no place in her life for such attachments, and she’d made her peace with that. But if what Shugart had told her was true…well, she couldn’t leave Barron in danger, not without doing everything she could to warn him.
“You’re all tied up in knots, Andi. It’s more obvious than you think. At least to us. And the fact that you’ve got Rolf Shugart tied up and locked in the cargo hold seems like a significant clue.” Merrick paused. “We know you have to try to find Dauntless. Whatever it is, I can see it’s important, to you at least. And that makes it important to us. The Badlands will still be there, Andi…in a month, in a year. You’ve got to do what you feel you have to.” He stared across the meter and a half from his station to hers. “But if you think I’m going to let you do it alone, if you think any of us are going to let you go by yourself…then you don’t understand us as well as I thought you did.”
She looked back at Merrick, but it was some time before she managed to force words through her mouth. She was dedicated to her crew, and she knew they were to her. But she’d always had trouble with loyalty. She could give it, at least to those few she felt deserved it, but she couldn’t expect it, not really. She could understand her crew’s affections, in an abstract way, at least, but somewhere deep inside her, she considered her problems hers. She’d never learned to ask anyone for help.
“Vig, I don’t even know where I’m going to go. Dauntless was sent somewhere…somewhere likely very dangerous. I have no idea where to even look. Or how long it could take.”
“None of that matters, Andi.”
“I appreciate your loyalty, Vig, but I can’t drag the entire crew into danger when there’s no gain to had. That’s not what they signed on for.”
Merrick chuckled briefly. “Andi, I’ve already talked to the crew. They’re staying, every one of them. Wherever you go, however long it takes.”
“But…”
“No buts. You can tell us what’s so important, or you can stay tight-lipped about it. But we’re with you either way. To the end.”
Lafarge considered herself a cold fish, but she felt a surge of emotion at the display of friendship and loyalty her first officer was displaying, for himself and on behalf of the others. “Thank you, Vig,” she said softly. “I don’t know what to say…”
“Well, you can start by issuing some orders. Every minute we sit here, Dauntless gets farther away.”
She took a deep breath. She had no idea where to look for Dauntless. But she knew someone who would know exactly where the battleship was headed. Admiral Striker. He might even listen to her and pay heed to her words. The problem was, he was gone from Dannith too. She could only guess at where he went, but at least she had a clear first choice in his case. Fleet Base Grimaldi.
“Vig, plot a course to the Killian transit point. I’ve got to find Admiral Striker, and Grimaldi is the likeliest place he’ll be.”
“Yes, Andi.” There was no hesitation in his tone, but she heard a bit of nervousness. She understood completely. Base Grimaldi—and the whole Krakus system—was embargoed to all but crucial military traffic. If she could reach Striker, get a message through quickly enough, she was confident he’d hear what she had to say. But Pegasus would never be allowed through the outer pickets…and it would take ages to work her way through the chain of command, assuming she could ever get to the admiral.
Unless she blew past the checkpoints and drove Pegasus toward the base, close enough to get a message through, one that had a chance of reaching Striker right away. It was a dangerous plan, one that carried more than a little likelihood of getting her ship blasted to atoms. But it was the only way.
“Vig…” She hesitated for a moment. Her crew had stuck with her, but now she was going to lead them right into the most heavily defended place in the Confederation, without clearance. That was definitely not what any of them had signed up for.
“Course set, Andi. Ready to engage.”
She reached down and flipped on her comm unit. “Lex, how are the engines holding up?” And how are you?
“They’re in great sha
pe. The repair crews retuned the energy allocation system. We’re faster than we were before, Andi. I’m not sure how much exactly, not yet, but at least a third.”
She’d been worried about the engineer. He’d gone on a world class bender, by all accounts, and she’d been looking for him when she’d stumbled on Shugart. But Lex Righter had apparently pulled himself together, and he’d shown up sober and ready for action. She was still concerned about the engineer, about how he was handling all that had happened out at Chrysallis, but that was tomorrow’s problem. Right now, he was at his engines and ready to do what had to be done.
“Well, Lex…let’s see what they can do. We’ve got to get to Fleet Base Grimaldi. And every minute counts.”
“No problem, Andi. Just make sure everybody’s strapped in. The old girl’s got a lot more kick than she had before.”
“Whenever you’re ready, Lex.”
She leaned back in her chair. She still had doubts about bringing her people with her. Regardless of their loyalty, it felt wrong to her to put them in danger over something that had nothing to do with them.
“Lex reports full thrust in twenty seconds, Andi.” Vig turned and looked over at her. Almost as if he’d read her mind, he added, “We’re in this all the way, Andi. For you—and that would be enough. But Captain Barron and his people saved me too, and they treated us fairly. Whatever this is all about, if you think it is important, that’s enough for us.”
She took a deep breath as the thrusters kicked in. For a second, she felt the increased power of the engines, but then most of the pressure seemed to vanish. The upgraded compensators really made a difference. Another sign of just how extensively Striker’s people had upgraded her old ship.
She returned Merrick’s gaze. He was willing to follow her anywhere, on her word alone that it was important. All her people were. The hell into which Andi Lafarge had been born, out of which she’d crawled by wits and determination, had prepared her for many things, but not the unconditional loyalty and affection of her crew. She wasn’t sure how to handle it. But she knew one thing. She had to trust them in return. And they had a right to know why they were risking their lives.
“It’s Sector Nine, Vig,” she said abruptly. “They snuck an agent onto Dauntless, one of the replacements for her crew.”
She stared at her friend, blue eyes cold, as she struggled to keep the fear out of her voice.
“They have an assassin on Dauntless.”
Chapter Seventeen
Internal Transmission Within Alliance Fleet Command
AS Bellator has failed to respond to multiple attempts at scheduled communications, presumably due to mechanical failure. However, the vessel has now launched several unauthorized craft, which appear to be on a course to land on the surface of Palatia. Request further orders. Should we send a fleet command shuttle to dock with Bellator and determine her status?
Viridi Forest
North of Victorum, Alliance Capital City
Astara II, Palatia
Year 61 (310 AC)
“Single shots! Aim before you fire.” Centurion Caelina Herminius crouched behind a fallen tree, looking out at the advancing enemy forces in the pale light of early morning. A blast of automatic fire would have been an ideal defensive tactic, but her people simply didn’t have the ammunition. They were running low, and when they ran out completely, they were as good as finished.
She’d managed to recall most of her scattered scouts, and they had formed something that resembled a defensive line. She had no hope of holding the troopers heading toward her tiny force. She’d known success would be measured in time. Minutes, perhaps even an hour, however long her people could hold the line and buy time for Commander Vennius. And so it had been, for perhaps the last forty-five minutes.
Vennius had sent up orders for her to fall back slowly, not to sacrifice herself and all her soldiers to a suicidal fixed defense, but she knew the best way to delay the enemy was to pick the most defensible spot, and stay right there. She’d set down every field of fire herself, positioned every one of her people with care, and she’d seen the payoff in three enemy advances pushed back.
Now, half her people were down, and the mass of troopers approaching would run over the rest of them, regardless of what she did. Worse, she’d gotten word from her flankers. The enemy was coming around both ends of her lines. She was a Palatian to the core, a warrior above all else. She was willing to die, to see all of her people die, but not for nothing. Throwing away the rest of her command wouldn’t buy more than a few seconds, and that was pointless waste. She could achieve more by harassing the attackers than by dying for no gain.
“We’re going to fall back now. I want odds to drop back three hundred meters. Evens cover the move, then follow while odds provide support. Pass it down, make sure the troopers on the flanks are in the loop.” She was shouting so loudly, she was probably telling the enemy advance forces what she was doing. But there was no choice. Her position was right on the edge of the jamming radius around Victorum, and she had to be sure her people got her orders.
“Odds…go. Evens, covering fire.” She stayed in place, even though her position made her an odd. She wasn’t going back, not until every one of her people still alive had pulled back.
That was twelve, besides her, exactly half the strength she’d started with. Fifty percent casualties were heavy by any measure, but she’d expected them all to die. Anybody she brought back now was a bonus. Or anybody who made it back even if she didn’t.
She saw movement, and she fired. Then again. She thought she saw a figure fall, but she couldn’t be sure. It didn’t matter. Her primary concern wasn’t scoring kills. There were too many troops approaching. No number of hits was going to alter the situation. But if her people could keep up the pressure, force the attackers to be cautious, slow the enemy advance enough, then they could make a difference.
Assuming Commander Vennius has a more detailed plan than fleeing into the woods…
She didn’t doubt Vennius’s skill, and her loyalty was rock solid. Her family had served his since the earliest days of the Alliance, as her own children would continue to do, even if she failed to return home.
If there still is an Alliance…
She had no clue what was happening, but the idea that her people were fighting other Palatians to save the Commander-Maximus and the Imperatrix still seemed unreal. She’d faced enemies before, but they had always been offworlders, foreigners. Enemies. Now she had killed her brethren, and lost troopers to Palatian fire. She tried not to let herself dwell on it…the thought made her sick to her stomach, and just distracted her from the fight at hand. She would do her duty, but in her gut, she knew her nation—her home—would never be the same.
“Evens, pull back.” She’d looked behind her, but the woods were too dense. Visibility was far less than three hundred meters, at least for picking out her people who’d gone to cover. But she could hear the sounds of fire, picked shots. And the attackers were close now. It was time to pull back.
She turned and ran, crouching low and trying to keep as much cover as possible as she ran. The forest floor was treacherous, covered with roots and branches, and rocks half-buried in the dense black soil. Tripping now, breaking a leg or an ankle, would be a death sentence.
She could hear sounds from above, the roar of airship engines. Again. Whatever rogue group was chasing them, they not only had significant resources, they appeared to have air superiority around the capital. What is happening?
She saw the line of odds up ahead. The evens were going to move another three hundred meters, past the odds, but Herminius intended to stop with her forward line. She had perhaps thirty meters to go. Then, suddenly, she was down. She hadn’t felt the shot, and she didn’t remember falling. But now she was lying on the mossy ground, staring up at the green canopy above.
Pain came, but only for a moment. She tried to move her head, to look down at her body, to see where she was wounded. But she couldn’t
. She managed move her arm, putting her hand on her chest. She felt the wet warmth, and she knew, even before she pulled it away and saw the blood covering it. The shot had entered her back and come out through her chest, and as she struggled for air, coughing to clear the bloody fluid filling her lungs, she understood. She’d fought on a dozen battlefields, but this would be her last. She felt a rush of emotion, sorrow because she would never see her children again. Concern for her soldiers, and for Vennius and the Imperatrix. Fear…of death, of the unknown. But there was relief of a sort too, beneath the pain and loss, almost a gratefulness that she would not have to see what was to become of her people.
She took one last breath, labored but deep, and then she was gone.
* * *
“They’re coming, sir. Centurion Herminius is dead. Four of her people made it back. They say there are at least five hundred enemy troopers on their tail.”
“Very well, Drusus. Do what you can to set up a defensive perimeter.” Vennius shook his head as he looked out of the woods, into the large clearing beyond. There was no point in running further. There was nowhere to go. Escape would come here, or it would not come at all. Vennius trusted Brutus Egilius completely. He had no doubt the officer would send the shuttles he’d requested. The question was, would they get through…and if they did, would it be in time?
“Yes, sir.” Lentius turned and began to head deeper into woods. The defensive line Vennius had ordered was already in place. His order had really been for the commander of his legion to take his place and direct the fighting that would begin any moment.
“Drusus, wait…” Vennius took a few steps from the heavy tree line, out into the waist-high grass. “Do you hear that?”
Lentius followed, cupping a hand to his ear. “Yes, sir,” he replied, a burst of energy in his voice. “The shuttles?”