by Jay Allan
Vennius sat silently, watching as Egilius issued orders. He’d aided the officer his career, driven by partly by a clannish sense of loyalty, but also by genuine respect for the younger man’s abilities. Now, watching his young protégé direct Bellator in its duel with Vexillium, a struggle of momentous importance, he knew his support had been justified.
Vennius had seen few officers of Egilius’s rank who could maintain such a level of focused calm facing not only his own death—and that of his crew—but the very future of the Alliance itself. Vennius knew crises like the current one gave the most capable the chance to shine, to live up to their potential, even as they were thrown into the crucible and tested. He hoped Egilius would be up to the task, that his ability would be enough to endure the great weight so suddenly thrust upon his shoulders. Vennius had fought more than a few battles himself, and right now he put the odds at roughly fifty-fifty of Bellator getting through the transit point, and rather less of making good a true escape with its systems still intact. It was a terrible gamble for a warrior to take with his own life, but with the magnitude of all that was at stake now, it was gut wrenching.
“Hold…”
Vexillium was just beginning to launch its fighters. Sloppy…very sloppy. Vennius frowned, even as he realized the opposing ship’s missteps increased the chances of escape. Bellator’s change of course, its aggressive run right for its adversary, seemed to have taken Commander Pilius by surprise. His reaction time was clearly slow, his moves clumsy. Vennius was grateful now, of course, but he couldn’t help but think to himself, in other circumstances, he’d have relieved Pilius for allowing Bellator to seize the initiative. He wondered how Calavius would deal with such things. Not well, he answered himself. His old friend had always been a bit harsh in his dealings with subordinates, and now Calavius fancied himself Imperator. That could only exacerbate his weaknesses.
Remember, you know Calavius better than almost anyone. That knowledge is a weapon, one of your tools to destroy him…
Bellator’s fighter squadrons were on alert, sitting in their ships in the launch bays, ready to go on a moment’s notice. They wouldn’t be given the order, however, not unless there was no choice. Vennius knew escaping from the Astara system was only the first small step toward survival. Toward fighting back. He had no idea what would happen when they encountered other Alliance vessels, or how effectively Calavius would be able to convince the fleet’s officers that Vennius was the real traitor. But he was sure of one thing…he’d need every bit of force he could get his hands on, and that included the forty-eight fighters sitting down in Bellator’s bays.
“I want all laser batteries armed and ready, Optiomagis,” Egilius said. He sounded calm, cool, almost like a block of ice. Vennius suspected, from his own memories if nothing else, that the truth was rather different. In all of his battles, amid the glory he’d gained and the victories he won, he never remembered going into battle and not being scared. Scared shitless. He’d hid it as well as he suspected Egilius was doing right now, but he remembered it all these years later. And even now it was still there, that icy vice grip in his gut, watching to see whether Egilius and his veteran crew would prevail.
“All batteries are fully-charged and locked on, sir. Awaiting your command to fire.” The tactical officer sounded strong, confident. Vennius never ceased to be amazed at the contagion of demeanor in battle. A leader like Egilius stood firm, and his people fed off his strength. Fear too, spreads…even more quickly.
Vennius watched, his eyes darting to the display then back to Egilius. They were already in range, close enough to open fire. But still, Egilius held the command.
Vennius knew what Bellator’s commander was doing, and his estimation of the younger officer grew yet again. Vexillium was launching fighters. That was the tactically correct move, at least it was when Bellator was heading right for the transit point. But fighter operations made it difficult—almost impossible—to effectively fire batteries en masse. And Egilius was using that time to get closer, maneuvering for a devastating volley before Vexillium could fire its own broadside.
Vennius knew the tactic was bold, and success depended, as much as anything, on timing. And guts. Egilius proved himself to have plenty of the latter as he passed the point where Vennius decided he would have fired if he’d been sitting in the command chair.
“All batteries ready…I want one hundred ten percent power on all guns.”
“Yes, sir. One hundred ten on all batteries.”
Vennius was impressed again. Overpowering the guns was risky too, but every watt of power poured into Vexillium increased the chance of Bellator getting out of the system, without suffering crippling damage itself. Chances were pretty good Egilius would lose a few batteries, mostly to burnouts in the overloaded systems. But that would be easy to repair on the fly, and nothing was as important as getting the first shot and making it count.
Vennius’s eyes darted to the display, counting the enemy fighters. They were all out now, and shaking down into attack formations. Vexillium would be ready to fire any time now. But Egilius was still playing for time. Bellator had been on alert for several hours, and its people were prepared for the fight. Vexillium had been thrown into combat on far less notice, and any kind of battle occurring in Astara had to be a shock to its officers and crew. Egilius had several advantages, each of them small individually, perhaps, but together maybe just enough. And Bellator’s commander was playing them for everything they were worth.
Come on, Brutus…you’re out of time…
If Egilius waited too long, if Vexillium got off the first volley, and was able to follow it up with virtually unopposed fighter attack, it would all be over. Egilius was pushing it to the limit, and he was taking a terrible gamble to do it.
Vennius leaned forward, feeling the order to fire trying to force its way from his throat. He struggled to hold it back, to trust his officer. But as he looked at the display, in his mind he saw the great laser blasts from the opposing ship, ripping into Bellator. It was his imagination, but he knew it would be reality, in only seconds now.
“All batteries…open fire!”
He heard Egilius’s voice, so loud it echoed off the walls of the bridge. And an instant later, he felt the vibration, heard the distant whining sounds of every gun on Bellator firing.
Vennius watched the display, feeling a wave of excitement as the AI reported hit after hit. Egilius had picked his time well, and he’d taken advantage of the fact that Vexillium’s launch operations had limited its evasive maneuvers. And he’s drilled his gunners well too…
His eyes were locked on the screen, waiting as Bellator’s scanners evaluated the hits and the AI completed damage assessments. But before anything appeared on the display, Egilius’s voice ripped across the bridge again. “Revise course, heading alpha-2,” he said. “Maximum thrust…and I do mean maximum, Optiomagis. Disengage all safeties. I want the engines at one hundred fifteen percent.”
Vennius was surprised. He’d given Egilius freedom to run the ship, and now the commander was banking on the damage inflicted in his initial broadside to buy enough time to make a run for it. Vennius would have held his course, exchanged volleys until Vexillium was crippled. But that would have taken time, and Bellator would have been damaged too. Bolting for the transit point was no less of a gamble, but perhaps one with a better chance of success. My faith in Egilius was not misplaced.
The surprise of the maneuver had another advantage, one that became apparent as the scanners displayed Vexillium’s return shot. It was ragged, no more than half the battleship’s guns…and it was a clean miss, Bellator’s change in thrust upsetting the enemy’s targeting.
Vennius struggled to move his body in the seat, trying to get as comfortable as possible—or more accurately, to minimize the terrible discomfort. Full thrust was hard enough to endure, but with Egilius overpowering Bellator’s engines, the pressure was almost unbearable.
He sucked in a shallow breath, feelin
g as though the g forces would break his ribs as he did. But his eyes were still fixed on the display as the damage assessments confirmed what the enemy volley had suggested. Bellator’s broadside had hit Vexillium hard. At least three batteries had been destroyed outright, and the AI projection suggested several others had been silenced by damage to electronics and power transmission systems. One of the battleship’s engines had sustained a hit as well, though it was somewhat indeterminant as to how bad it was. Still, anything was helpful. Bellator had gained a jump on its opponent with the suddenness of its maneuver, and if Vexillium was at less than full thrust, she would never get close enough to stop the escape.
Bellator shook hard. Vexillium’s second volley hit, at least with some of its shots. Vennius could hear Egilius on the comm with his engineer. There was damage, some of it serious, but nothing that would interfere with the ship’s flight. The engines were unaffected, and the reactors were still pouring energy in well beyond the maximum rated limits.
Vennius knew Egilius had given his opponent a choice. Cease fire and try to match vector and velocity to pursue Bellator…or stay on the current course and maintain fire, with the range increasing and the fire arc decaying with every shot. He waited to see what Vexillium’s commander would choose, and the absence of further attacks answered the question. Vexillium had taken the bait…she was pursuing Bellator. Vennius knew immediately that Egilius had won the battle of wits. The pursuing battleship was too far back, too late in its reaction, and its damaged engines had to chance of matching Bellator’s thrust. And Pilius had sacrificed his last shots, the final chance to stop Bellator, for the hopeless pursuit.
There were no other ships close enough to intercept. They were going to make it, at least through the jump. Under normal conditions, they’d have a whole squadron right on their tails, but Vennius knew it was more complicated than that. The fleet was in disarray, and there would be confusion, questions to ask and answer. Many officers would accept the lies Calavius told them, but others would be skeptical. Some might even resist. If Bellator could get out of Astara, and get a jump on any pursuit, they could buy some time.
Vennius sat still, trying to ignore the pain the g forces were inflicting on him. His mind was elsewhere, even as he watched the transit point looming just up ahead on the scanner. Vexillium was still pursuing, but she was falling behind. Bellator was going to make it.
Vennius felt strange, excited for the impending success of the escape, but cold too, somber at the thought of characterizing an ignominious flight from his home world as a victory. There was a long road ahead, and a difficult one. But the shameful retreat kept his cause alive. Calavius had tricked him, gained the upper hand, but Vennius swore one thing to himself. It wasn’t over, not yet. He would fight, and he would steal a page from his foe, and do whatever was necessary to achieve victory. Whatever is necessary.
He forced as deep a breath as he could manage into his lungs as the ship slid into the transit point. Calavius had been his friend for half a century, but now there was nothing left of that affection, nothing but cold determination. And hatred for an enemy.
No, this is not an end. It is a beginning. And before it is over, I shall look into your cold, dead eyes, my old friend.
Chapter Twenty-One
AS Bellator
Approaching Fortress Sentinel-2
Orbiting Planet Varena, Cilian System
Year 61 (310 AC)
“We’re being challenged, sir.” The tactical officer ran his eyes past Vennius as he turned toward Egilius. The Commander-Maximus had not interfered with one of Egilius’s decisions, not in the initial escape from Astara, and not in the series of running fights against pursuing vessels sent to stop Bellator’s desperate flight, but his presence was still a distraction to the ship’s bridge crew.
Reaching Sentinel-2 had not come without cost. Bellator’s battle honors now included not only the destruction of foreign enemies in past wars, but now also of two Alliance ships. One of the Alliance vessels had been a battleship with a crew of nearly one thousand. That fight had been a difficult one, despite the fact that the attacking vessel had been old and outclassed. The cost of the nascent civil war now included fifty of Egilius’s own people among the dead.
“I will take that, Commander.” It was the first time Vennius had stepped in. Commanding Bellator in battle would undermine Egilius’s authority and confuse the crew, but dealing with the base commander was something clearly requiring Vennius’s stature. Assuming he had any stature remaining. Sentinel-2 was too far out for word to have reached it about the coup. Bellator had traveled there about as quickly as possible, foreclosing the possibility that the traitors had been able to send word ahead of the ship’s arrival. But that didn’t mean the plot didn’t extend out this far. Gaius Cassius commanded Sentinel-2. Cassius was an officer with a spotless record, and one Vennius called a friend. But he was still cautious. Calavius had been his friend as well.
“This is Tarkus Vennius Maximus. I will speak with Commander-Altum Cassius immediately.” His spoke with all the authority, almost arrogance, that would be expected of his position. Now was not the time to display weakness.
“Yes, Commander-Maximus. At once.” The officer’s response seemed genuine. Of course, that could just mean he’s a good actor.
A few seconds later: “Commander Vennius?” Gaius Cassius had a low, gravelly voice, almost unmistakable. “How can I be of service, sir?” Again, the respect and sincerity he’d expected were there in the response. Cassius was an intelligent man, but in all the years Vennius had known him, he’d seen not the slightest indication of a talent for deceit. But he still wasn’t sure, and as much as he felt the urge to tell Cassius everything, he held back. He had to be sure, and even if his old colleague was loyal, it was highly likely there were at least some conspirators in his command. Sentinel-2 was too close to Palatia for the plotters to have ignored it entirely in their plans.
“Commander, I wish to discuss some important matters with you. You are to board a shuttle at once and come to Bellator.” It was somewhat of an odd request. Typically, a newly-arrived battleship would dock with the base. But Vennius was an officer of extremely high rank, and he knew it wouldn’t look all that out of the ordinary for him to summon his subordinate to him.
“Yes, Commander. At once.”
Vennius cut the line. He looked over at Egilius. “Commander, I want a detachment of fully-armed stormtroopers near the bay when Cassius’s ship lands.” Vennius was hopeful the base commander was still loyal, but there was no harm in being sure. Cassius’s willingness to come aboard was a good sign, but he still couldn’t rule out the chance that the shuttle would be packed with armed troops, hoping to get a chance to gain control of Bellator by surprise.
I allowed myself to be deceived once, and I swear that I shall remain vigilant henceforth. I was a fool once, but never again.
“Yes, Commander Vennius.”
“And Brutus,” he added, “keep them out of sight. I want them ready in case they are needed, but if Commander Cassius is loyal, as I suspect, there is no need to insult him.” He paused. “We have few enough ready allies…and we must preserve those who would stand with us.”
* * *
“It is difficult to believe, Commander.” Cassius sat opposite Vennius in Bellator’s cramped meeting room. Alliance ships were rather more spartan affairs than their Confederation counterparts, and such luxuries as large conference facilities and comfortable wardrooms were mostly absent. The two men were alone.
“I lived through it, my old comrade, and I still have trouble accepting it. Nevertheless, it is true. Every word of it.” Vennius was certain now of Cassius’s loyalty, at least as much as he could be. He’d allowed Calvinius to deceive him, but he was trying to maintain some level of trust in his judgment of people.
Cassius shook his head. “It’s hard enough to believe we have a high-ranking traitor, even one. But hundreds? Thousands? Not in the Alliance. Not our fellow Palatia
ns.” It was clear the officer wasn’t disputing what he’d been told, simply despairing of a reality he didn’t want to accept. Cassius had reacted first with shock and disbelief, but Vennius could see it turning now to anger. He took a deep breath. He felt the same rage as the base commander, of course, but he also knew his cause needed cold rationality and not wild emotion.
“They are traitors, Gaius. To you, to me…to any who stand with us. But to view them only as traitors is to think of them as lesser, and many of those involved are fine warriors. They do not consider what they are doing treason. We must remember that. They view the Imperatrix’s decision regarding the Confederation to be an abandonment of all that makes us what we are. In their own eyes, they are cleansing the Alliance…saving it.” Vennius paused for a few seconds, allowing what he had said to sink in. “I despise them for what they have done, Gaius, and I am sworn to destroy them…but I would be lying if I said I couldn’t understand, at least on some level, what drives them. Calavius is vermin, he has fallen from what he once was, and is now driven by personal lust for power. But most of those who follow him no doubt believe they are taking desperate actions to save the Alliance.” Vennius couldn’t understand how an officer could accept foreign bribes and yet still maintain the attitude that he or she is driven by loyalty, but he had seen it enough to know that it was often true.
“I, too, questioned whether we should have taken the opportunity to invade the Alliance. Yet that is no excuse for failing in our obedience. It is not for the Palatian warrior to question the Imperatrix’s wisdom.” Cassius’s voice was softer, a bit of the stridency he had displayed moments before gone.
“And yet, is there not always a point at which a warrior must do just that? Not over the events of the past three years, certainly, but can you say there is no order you would not follow, no course of action you could not accept?”
Cassius sat still and silent for a moment. Finally, he nodded slightly. “Perhaps…”