Echoes of Glory (Blood on the Stars Book 4)

by Jay Allan

  “Captain Lafarge?”

  “I just ask that you let me help, Commander.” Lafarge’s voice dripped with frozen venom.

  “So, you see, Sp…Mr. Ventnor…” Travis almost choked on the word “Spacer.” Even acknowledging the wretched traitor as a member of the navy sickened her. “…all you have left is what you can tell us. If that is nothing, I might as well throw you out the airlock now.”

  Oddly, while beating Ventnor was a violation of regulations, Travis knew she had every right as Dauntless’s acting commander to summarily execute him if she deemed him a danger to the ship.

  “Please…” Ventnor whined pathetically. “I had no choice. They would have killed me…”

  “I suggest you tell me everything…or I will kill you.” Travis sat for perhaps half a minute, but Ventnor was silent, save for the quiet sounds of his sobs. “Captain Rogan, take this man to launch bay alpha and throw him out of the airlock.” She stared down at the prisoner. “Do you have any problem with that order, Captain?”

  “None whatsoever, Commander.” The Marine started moving toward the center of the room.

  “No! Wait…”

  Travis held up her hand, gesturing for Rogan to stop. “Are you going to tell me everything? I’m not going to ask again.”

  “Yes, yes…I had no choice. They threatened to kill me…my family.”

  “How did you get involved with them in the first place?”

  Ventnor fell silent again. This time, Lafarge acted before Travis, lunging forward and slamming her fist into the side of his head so hard the chair he was shackled to fell onto its side. “I’ve had it with you,” she said, clearly barely hanging onto whatever shreds of her self-control remained. She pulled out a small knife and held it to Ventnor’s throat. “I’m not one of those honorable officers back there…I’ve been called a pirate more times that you can count, and by the Eleven Hells, that’s exactly how I’m going to act here. Now you tell us everything, and the next time you whine about anything or stop talking, I will slit your fucking throat. You won’t live to see any airlock.”

  Ventnor was lying on the ground, tears streaming down his face. “Please don’t kill me…I don’t want to die.”

  Lafarge straightened up and kicked him in the stomach. “I’m sure you don’t…but you were willing to kill Captain Barron and Spacer Cole. Do you think Cole wanted to die? Do you think Barron does?” She kicked him again.

  “They paid me. I had debts…gambling debts. I owed some dangerous people. They didn’t tell me what they wanted me to do, not at first. They gave me the money…and then they started threatening me…”

  “You pathetic worm…you think the gangsters in the Dannith Spacer’s District are dangerous people?” Lafarge’s voice was like death.

  “What can you tell us about the poison you used?”

  “Nothing.” He looked up as Lafarge leaned forward toward him. “Nothing…I swear. They just gave it to me and told me to get it in his food.”

  Travis reached out and put her hand on Lafarge’s shoulder. Pegasus’s captain was quivering with rage. “I’m not going to kill you now,” Travis said, her voice somber, disappointment clear in her voice. She glanced over at Lafarge, and then back at Ventnor. “That is for one reason only…because I know Confederation Intelligence will want to…discuss…all of this with you in much greater detail.” She crouched down, putting her face close to his. “But I want you to know, after they’re done, and when you’re tried for treason, and for the murder of Spacer Cole and the attempted murder of Captain Barron…” Please…let it only be attempted murder… “I will be there to watch you mount the scaffold, you miserable traitor.” She looked back at Lafarge again. “And I am certain Captain Lafarge will also attend.”

  “Count on it,” she said grimly.

  “Captain Rogan,” Travis said, her voice thick with contempt. “Put this man in the brig. I want four guards on duty outside his cell at all times…and I want your people to remain on alert.” She didn’t think it was likely there were any more double agents on Dauntless…but she wasn’t taking any chances either. Not deep in Alliance space with Barron still in cryostasis.

  “Yes, Commander.” Rogan turned and hit the control to open the door, calling for two of his people as soon as the hatch slid to the side. The Marines moved to the center of the room and reached down, grabbing the prisoner.

  Travis watched as the sobbing man was half-dragged out the door. Then she turned back to Lafarge.

  “Let’s get back to sickbay, Andi. Maybe Doc has gotten somewhere with his analysis.”

  * * *

  “Commander, the transiting ship is Vindictus. Commander Tropus is on the line.”

  Vennius winced. Vindictus was a new battleship, launched less than a year earlier. That was good news, but the name jabbed at him. She was named for the vessel Kat had commanded before her ill-fated mission aboard Invictus.

  He looked across the control room, past Cassius to the aide. He wasn’t sure whether “commander” referred to him or to Cassius, but Sentinel-2’s commanding officer remained silent, deferring to him. “On my line, Optiomagis.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Commander Tropus? This is Commander-Maximus Tarkus Vennius.” He’d tended to let his formality lapse in recent years, and especially in the weeks since the coup, but somehow, welcoming a new battleship joining the beleaguered resistance seemed like an occasion worthy of a touch of ceremony. “Welcome to Sentinel-2, and to the true Alliance fleet. You and those who serve you display the honor you live by.” It all seemed a little silly, but he knew many things played into the morale of subordinates. He hadn’t seen Tropus in several years, but he remembered the officer as one of considerable talent, but also a bit of a stiff.

  “Commander-Maximus, I am pleased to find you well. We feared the worst when we realized what had happened.” A pause. Then: “Commander, I bring grim news. The usurper and his Union minions have rallied much of the fleet to their side, and they have hunted down many ships that would not join them. Lanceae and Pugnator have been destroyed.”

  “I thank you for the information, Commander. It confirms some other reports we have received.”

  “It is of no consequence, Commander-Maximus, save respect for the honorable dead. Calavius cannot win. The true Palatian warrior will always prevail. The traitors have no chance, regardless of the numbers they deploy.”

  Vennius wondered how much Tropus was putting the best face on things and how much he was performing for his crew. Or does he really believe that nonsense…there are those in Alliance service who do…

  Vennius knew very well the commanders and crews of many ships had done what they had, not because they were traitors, but because they had believed Calavius’s lies. When he’d lost Palatia, Vennius had lost the ability to reach most of the fleet in an effective way, to state his case alongside the usurpers’. It was easy to fault the officers going over to Calavius, but he reminded himself how convincing an argument can be when there is no opposition.

  “We shall fight, Commander Tropus, that much I can assure you. We will never yield.”

  “Never,” Vindictus’s commander repeated. Then: “Where do you want us, Commander?”

  “On the left, Commander Tropus. Aquila was positioned there, before…”

  “There is no victory without cost, Commander-Maximus. I am certain Aquila and her crew fought with great honor and distinction.”

  You have no idea how they fought…you weren’t here. Vennius shook his head. He’d lived most of his life repeating pointless platitudes like that. Aquila, outclassed by the newer and larger ships she’d faced, had fought bravely, but she’d still been destroyed, her crew as dead as the would have been if their vessel had been blown apart as they fled from the fight. Vennius didn’t believe there was no difference, that the manner of one’s death didn’t matter at all…but he no longer felt the comfort he once did from easy reference to honor and courage.

  “Again, Commander T
ropus, you have my personal gratitude for joining us. We speak too often of honor and duty as amorphous concepts, without taking the time to appreciate the courage of one’s actions. Vennius out.”

  He cut the line and leaned back in his chair. Tropus’s words, his reports about vessels flocking to Calavius’s banner, none of it was unexpected. Yet, hearing it only increased the burden he felt, sitting there, waiting. He knew the next fight would make the previous ones look like skirmishes. Calavius had let his ego and ambitions get out of control, but the man wasn’t a fool. He would know he had to destroy the resistance, that eventually the continued existence of his enemies would threaten the lies and propaganda he’d used to rally forces to his cause. If he had indeed gained more ships, he would launch an overwhelming assault…and soon.

  Vennius tried to tell himself his people had a chance, but as before, he found it much more difficult to blindly believe in things. His forces would fight, certainly, but they would likely lose. The Confederation had been his best hope, but they had only sent one ship, not nearly enough to make a difference…not even a ship like Dauntless.

  He took a deep breath. There was no point in such thoughts. All he could do was prepare, and be ready to fight to the end. The rest he would have to leave to fate.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  AS Perigrinus

  Leaving Palatia Orbit

  Astara II

  Year 61 (310 AC)

  “Your Supremacy, the fleet is underway.” The officer stood in front of Calavius, at rigid attention.

  “Very well, Commander-Altum. We will head directly for the transwarp link. It is past time to root out the last of the traitors, and restore honor and glory to the Alliance.”

  “Yes, Your Supremacy. It is our honor that you lead the fleet in person. Surely, our victory will be utterly complete.”

  “Indeed it shall, Commander. And it shall usher in a new period of greatness, one that sees our Alliance reach new heights of glory.” He paused. “Go now, and take tactical command. Direct the units of the fleet and see our way forward.”

  The officer bowed deeply. “As you command, Your Supremacy.” She rose and walked out of the room.

  As soon as the hatch slid shut, Ricard Lille moved out from along the far wall. He and Calavius were alone in the room now, save for the two garishly-uniformed soldiers standing on either side of the new Imperator.

  He’s wasted no time on nonsense like that…imperial guards and custom uniforms. His mistress probably designed those…

  Calavius actually had several mistresses, all of them beautiful Plebs, each seeking a route to wealth and social advancement in the bed of the Alliance’s new ruler. Palatian women were unsuited to such roles, being as independent and warlike as the men. Most of the playthings of the powerful, whether men or women, kept by men or women, were offworlders.

  Lille looked at Calavius. He was unsettled at how much time his new creature spent on self-aggrandizement…before he’d even secured his position and eliminated his still-dangerous rival. Lille maintained his outward displays of respect, but inside his usual disgust with people waxed. He had chosen Calavius carefully. The Palatian hadn’t been his first choice, and perhaps not his second either, but he was sure the new Imperator was a capable warrior. Yet, he was surprised—and he scolded himself for allowing that—at just how quickly the veteran fighter had begun wasting his time and effort on foolishness.

  “You have done well, Calavius. This fleet you have assembled…” With more of my coin than I would have thought it possible to spend. “…is indeed impressive. With your skill and your unyielding focus and determination, Vennius and his band of followers are surely doomed.” Lille addressed the Imperator by his name, as he had throughout their period of plotting and working together. It would not serve to play at the role of subordination. He had invested an unimaginable fortune and months of his time aiding Calavius in seizing the Imperator’s scepter. Their deal had been clear, and he had no intention of allowing his creature’s ego to overwhelm his obligation.

  “Tarkus Vennius was offered a chance for greatness, an opportunity to join me, to command my fleets and legions…yet he spurned me. Now, he will pay the price. And, when he is gone, the Confederation will know the bitter taste of conquest delayed. We shall right the wrong of my predecessor’s timidity. We will come to the aid of your stalled fleets, and bring our mutual enemy to their knees.”

  Lille held back a sigh. He really did hate people. He had completed his mission so far with perfect success, but it was one to which he was ill-suited. Lille was a solitary man, one who preferred to keep his interactions with most people limited to killing them. Assassination was his specialty, his love. He was just as effective at manipulation and espionage, but he didn’t derive the satisfaction from them he did from stalking and terminating a target. He’d agreed to this mission only as a favor to Villieneuve, one of his very few real friends…and even from his friend, he had extracted a tremendous price for his services.

  “Tarkus Vennius will die, Calavius, at your hands. And when he is gone, along with the Imperatrix, you will have secured your control over all of the Alliance.” Lille paused for a moment. “While I do not doubt your victory, I do feel we should discuss some tactics for the coming battle.” Lille’s eyes darted back and forth between the two guards. “Perhaps we should speak alone.”

  “I am Imperator of the Alliance, Ricard. My guards are with me at all times.”

  Lille suppressed another sigh. “Indeed, you are the Imperator…but there is one fight remaining to secure that scepter in your hand. For all of your abilities, and your undoubted courage, I would consider it a personal favor if you would indulge me. We are, after all, friends…and the idea that I could pose a threat to a warrior such as you is indeed laughable.” Lille stared at the Alliance soldier turned monarch. Calavius was a veteran fighter, despite his current demeanor, but Lille didn’t doubt he could drop the fool in an instant if he chose…and probably his two guards as well. “I urge you, my friend…take no chances now. Let us sit together and plan this final battle, as we did your entire ascent.”

  Calavius sat quietly for a moment, but Lille could tell his manipulation had worked. “Go,” Calavius said, gesturing toward the guards. “Wait outside. I will call you when I need you.”

  The two soldiers snapped to even more rigid attention than that at which they had been standing. Then they marched toward the door, and out into the corridor.

  “We are alone, Ricard. What would you discuss about the impending battle? Surely, we have assembled enough force to overwhelm Vennius.”

  “Perhaps I am a superstitious man, Calavius, but I go into every situation expecting the unexpected. Sentinel-2 is a powerful base, one with the firepower of several battleships. Destroying it will not be easy, nor cheap. But perhaps there is a way to augment our attack.”

  “I am listening, Ricard.”

  “I propose we prepare one of your frigates for an alternate use…ramming. The base is a stationary target. A ship that accelerates toward it can cut off its engines and shut down its reactor as it enters close weapons range. The station’s weapons will cause massive damage, but with no reactor to breach, the bombardment will not stop the vessel. It will shoot systems to rubble, but the station will still be hit by a large mass traveling at very high velocity. The kinetic energy of the impact will vaporize the fortress…and since Vennius and the Imperatrix are almost certainly aboard, it will kill them both at a stroke.”

  “You propose a suicide attack?”

  “Yes. Surely, among your thousands of enthusiastic followers, there are some few in whom dreams of glory and honor exceed intelligence. Only a skeleton crew will be needed, and I can promise you the funds to reward the families of the brave warriors. No doubt, you too, may be inspired to create some honor for their descendants, some meaningful inducement that costs nothing.”

  “That is definitely a possibility.” Calavius thought for a moment. “Heroes of the Alliance�
�and a grant of Citizenship to the children of every Prob who volunteers for this sacred mission. A display for all to see…that Alliance warriors do not fear death in battle. In victory.”

  Lille nodded. “Very good.” He paused. “I have one other concern. Reports from the survivors of the last battle state that there was a Confederation battleship present. It suggests that Vennius was able to request Confederation aid and that he received it. I had not anticipated that the Confeds would be able to respond so quickly, even if Vennius reached out to them. I urge you to prioritize the destruction of the Confederation vessel.”

  “One Confederation battleship? A weak and pointless display, and certainly not a match for even one of my capital ships.”

  Lille resisted the urge to shake his head. Calavius knew what had happened at Santis, he was well aware that a Confederation battleship, a fairly old one even, had defeated the Alliance’s flagship. And yet, he was utterly convinced of Alliance superiority.

  “Calavius, I do not dispute the skill and courage of your warriors.” Lille was speaking carefully. Leading his creature to the decision he wanted would take some skill and care. “But the Confederation is not a society of warriors. They are schemers, capitalist exploiters who enslave their scientists, pushing them to produce ever-deadlier weapons. Your spacers and soldiers can easily defeat their Confederation opposites…” Lille knew the Alliance warriors were good, but he had serious doubts they were truly the superiors of the Confeds. “However, when you face the Confederation, you also face their technology. Their ships have weapons that outrange yours. Their fighters are faster, and they carry heavier laser cannons.” A pause. “Please, my friend…do not underestimate them. Dispatch several of your ships to destroy the Confederation vessel. Once that is done, and the fortress, along with Vennius and the Imperator, is destroyed, your victory will be assured. You can return to Palatia in glorious triumph…and dispatch your fleets to punish the Confederation for aiding your enemy.”