Echoes of Glory (Blood on the Stars Book 4)

by Jay Allan

  They’re going to try to hold Eaton’s ships back until the other two finish off Dauntless.

  Still, one less ship blasting away has to help…

  She watched as the remaining two ships continued to close on Dauntless, firing relentlessly as they did.

  He can’t last much longer.

  Thirty thousand kilometers…

  She was shaking her head. Eaton was going to be too late. The Alliance vessel advancing to meet her force was accelerating too, and the distance between them was closing faster. Twenty thousand…fifteen…

  She waited and watched, knowing Eaton’s people had to get past this first ship and close on the ones attacking Dauntless. Ten thousand…

  Her screens went wild, energy readings soaring. She wasn’t sure for a few seconds what had happened, but then the scanners told her. Eaton’s flotilla had fired their primaries, from almost ten thousand kilometers outside what she had though was their maximum range. And each of the three ships had fired four guns, not two like Dauntless possessed.

  Her eyes darted back to the Alliance ship. It looked like six of the weapons had hit, and from the data coming in, they had virtually gutted the vessel. Dauntless had already inflicted heavy damage on the Alliance ship, but now Lafarge was getting a steady stream of damage assessments, atmosphere leaking into space, internal explosions…and then, suddenly, her scanners reported a massive energy surge. The Alliance battleship was gone.

  She looked on in stunned silence. She’d never seen a weapon as powerful as the ones Eaton’s ships had just fired—except of course on the ancient planet-killer at Chrysallis. She didn’t understand what she had just seen, but she realized it might have been the miracle that could save Barron and his people.

  Her eyes went to the Alliance vessels, the two battleships that were killing Dauntless. The firing had stopped. It took a few seconds for her to realize what was happening, but then she saw that the enemy ships were blasting their thrusters. They were changing their course, moving toward Eaton’s approaching vessels.

  She couldn’t help but be impressed with the courage of the Alliance spacers. They had just watched the newly arrived ships obliterate one of their vessels, but they weren’t running. They were moving forward to engage. Whatever they’re doing, they aren’t firing at Dauntless anymore.

  That still left one question unanswered though…had Eaton arrived in time to save Barron and his crew? Or was it too late already?

  * * *

  “All forces forward. Attack…fight until the enemy is destroyed.”

  Lille stood quietly, watching the reports and scans on the row of displays. Calavius was acting like a typical Palatian officer, ready to throw everything into the battle, fearing the brand of cowardice far more than defeat itself. But Lille’s attention was on the Confederation ships that had just arrived. They had fallen on the vessels attacking Dauntless, the ones that had come so close to ridding him of that troublesome ship, and they had destroyed them all.

  He hadn’t expected substantial reinforcement from the Confeds, not so soon. It was clear these ships were new, just out of the shipyards. They were heavier, stronger than anything he’d seen the enemy deploy. But his contacts had suggested the Confederation was months away from deploying any new battleships.

  He looked over toward the screen displaying the fighting around the fortress. Calavius’s fleet had pushed Vennius’s survivors back steadily, and now his light forces were enveloping the enemy. Total victory was within reach…but Lille realized that could be a short-lived win. Very short.

  Calavius’s fighters had been roughly handled, and the survivors were low on fuel. And the Confederation ships had just launched their squadrons, no less than ninety fighters each. That was two hundred seventy ships total, almost one hundred of them armed as bombers. They were moving toward Calavius’s flank even now, followed closely by their awesome mother ships.

  Lille shook his head. He wasn’t an admiral…he didn’t know whether Calavius’s ships could finish off Vennius’s fleet and defeat the new arrivals. He suspected it would be close, and he’d learned not to underestimate the Confederation navy.

  “Calavius…” He’d waited until the Imperator had stopped snapping out orders.

  “What is it?” He could hear the tension in Calavius’s voice. Good, at least he sees the threat.

  “I believe you should order a retreat. Now.”

  “What?” the Imperator roared. “On the brink of total victory, you would have me turn and flee?”

  “These Confederation ships are dangerous. They’re fresh…and they’re new ships, stronger and heavier than any of yours. If you remain committed, they will get between us and our exit transwarp point. You will be irrevocably committed to fight to the end. Your damaged ships will face these fresh arrivals.”

  “Alliance warriors do not fear such things.”

  “No, certainly not. I speak not to fear, but rather to the tactical brilliance of the man who made himself Imperator.” Lille sometimes wondered how he said the things he did without retching.

  “If you retire, you will remain Imperator, and you will still have a fleet. It will be a setback. But you will still possess Palatia, and the battle to secure your position will continue.” He paused. “If you commit everything here, and the Confederation ships cut you off…the loss of most of your fleet will doom your cause. Even if you were to escape with a small handful of ships, you would not have the strength to continue the fight. I am not asking you to back down…but to fight with skill and wisdom as well as courage. Remaining here is a bad gamble, one with less chance of success than a more prolonged battle. My people have fought the Confeds for three years now. I urge you…do not underestimate these new ships.”

  Lille stood where he was, looking up at Calavius. He was usually sure what his creatures would do, and his persuasive abilities had a strong record of success. But here was a struggle between the mindless bravery so revered by the Palatians, and Calavius’s ego, his burning lust to be acknowledged as Imperator by all his people. Lille honestly didn’t know what was about to happen, and that made him very uncomfortable.

  Calavius didn’t respond, not right away. The Palatian leader stared at the displays, his eyes fixed on the approaching Confederation forces. Lille just waited. Nothing else he said would help now, and provoking an angry response wasn’t likely to help. He need Calavius to come to his own conclusion, to realize all he had just been told was true.

  “Very well, Ricard,” the Alliance ruler said grimly. “We will withdraw. We will reorganize and rally more of the fleet. Then we will destroy Vennius…and his Confederation allies.”

  Lille felt a wave of relief. He knew this would lead to a protracted civil war, but that served his purposes, at least to a point. If the Alliance front absorbed the Confederation’s newly-constructed warships, that would help the Union war effort. Not, perhaps, as much as a full-scale invasion of Confederation space, but maybe enough. The Union had its own new construction, and while its productivity didn’t match the Confederation’s, neither did it have a second front to divert its reinforcements.

  “Commander Balventius…the fleet will disengage and move back toward the transwarp point. At once.”

  “Your Supremacy…we have the traitors. We can destroy them.”

  “You have your orders, Commander. I trust that is sufficient.” Calavius’s tone was imperious, but Lille could hear something else the Imperator was trying to hide. Anger, crushing disappointment. But he was relieved to see that Calavius retained enough judgment to make the right call.

  “Calavius?” Lille’s eyes were on the small oval that represented Dauntless. The ship was moving on a fixed vector, with no detectable power output. But Lille wasn’t willing to make any assumptions…not with that ship.

  “Yes, Ricard. What do you want now?”

  He’d known of Villieneuve’s planned assassination of Barron. Indeed, if he hadn’t been in the Alliance, he almost certainly would have been tasked
with the assignment. He hadn’t been aware if the attempt had succeeded, but he’d heard Barron’s name on the comm chatter during the battle. And that was enough to convince him Dauntless’s captain had survived whatever plot Villieneuve’s assassin had conceived. Retreating was the right move for the fleet…but if it was possible to do away with Barron and his accursed ship once and for all, he had to take it.

  “I want to redirect the Ram.”

  “What? Are you mad? If we withdraw, the Ram is our last chance to kill Vennius.”

  Lille looked up at Calavius. “We cannot kill Vennius, not without the battle continuing. With no ability to target and destroy his shuttles, there is nothing to prevent him from abandoning the fortress. He will have time to get off the station, perhaps even to evacuate most of his people. You know this is true. Destroying Sentinel-2 itself is no doubt a useful objective…but I have one far more important.”

  “That is?”

  “Send the Ram after Dauntless. It appears her engines are dead, so she will not be able to evade. None of the other ships are near enough to intervene. The Ram’s current course is close enough to modify with maximum thrust…we can target Dauntless, and destroy her before the rest of the fleet can stop it.”

  Calavius sat still, silent. He wore a foul grimace on his face, and he shook his head.

  “I ask you, Calavius, with all respect. For all I have done, for the funding and assistance I have provided…as your ally, your friend, I request this one thing.” His statement was carefully crafted, intended to draw upon the Palatian sense of obligation, of honor.

  “Very well, Ricard. If you are so fearful of this Confederation vessel, you may use the Ram to destroy it.”

  “Thank you, Calavius.” Lille bowed slightly. “I am grateful for your wisdom.”

  And if we can’t achieve total victory today, the destruction of Dauntless and its troublesome captain will be a win all on its own.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Free Trader Pegasus

  Cilian System

  Deep in the Alliance

  Year 310 AC

  Lafarge watched on the display as the attacking Alliance ships pulled back. Eaton’s ships had pushed forward, accelerating at full thrust toward the flank of the fleet attacking Vennius’s forces and the base…and the enemy had blinked. She knew enough about the Alliance to realize it had not been fear nor a failure of morale at work. She had only the most basic idea of what was happening in the Alliance as a whole, but she suspected the overall advantage lay with those possessing Palatia. Risking everything on a single battle seemed like a bad idea, especially when they could likely rally more forces and return in greater strength.

  She was somewhat relieved that the enemy ships attacking Dauntless had been destroyed, but she was still worried. Barron’s ship was clearly crippled, with no thrust, no appreciable power generation, no communications. She told herself he was still alive, but she knew there had to be massive casualties. She’d tried to reach Dauntless a dozen times, and Eaton had done the same, but there hadn’t been any response.

  Her eyes caught something, a small dot on the scanner. Her fingers moved across her workstation, feeding power into the scanner, directing the AI to enhance the raw data coming in.

  It was a ship, but not a battleship. Mass suggested a frigate. She couldn’t get much else, not at this range, but there was one other bit of data that was clear. It was accelerating at full…and it was on a course directly toward Dauntless.

  She felt a tightness in her gut. Why would the enemy leave behind one ship to attack Dauntless? She knew there was danger. With Dauntless blind and without power, even a frigate could cause catastrophic damage and destroy the ship given enough time. But it didn’t make sense. Why Dauntless and not any of Vennius’s ships? And why just one attacking frigate? Dauntless was off on its own, that was true. Vennius’s vessels were distant, and Eaton’s ships were moving at high velocity on a vector almost directly away. Even Dauntless’s fighters were at extreme range. But still, if the Alliance usurpers felt it was worth a suicide attack to destroy Dauntless, why hadn’t they sent more than one frigate? It would take the single escort a considerable time to destroy Barron’s ship completely, and before then, Eaton’s ships might manage to reverse course and intervene.

  Her eyes were fixed on the small dot as her scanners steadily gleaned more information. The vessel was accelerating at almost 10g, and there was no doubt it was heading right at Dauntless. “Vig, I want full thrust. We’re heading back to Dauntless’s position.”

  “Yes, Andi.” Merrick’s voice was tentative, but he didn’t offer any argument. Lafarge knew her friend was as aware as she was that Pegasus was no match for a frigate. But she couldn’t just sit there and watch it happen.

  She looked back at the screen as she felt the engines kick in. The dot had moved a considerable distance. That thing has an insane velocity. That doesn’t make sense. They’ll never slow down enough to engage Dauntless. They’ll get at best a passing shot or two before they zip by. And it will take hours to decelerate and come back around.

  She stared at the display, her eyes darting back and forth between Dauntless and the enemy ship heading for her. Straight for her…

  Suddenly, a cold feeling cut through her. They’re not going to attack…

  “Vig, get me on the long-range comm now, maximum power, wide broadcast.” Her voice full of urgency.

  “Yes, Andi…” Merrick seemed confused, but he did as she asked. “On your headset…”

  “Attention all vessels. Attention all vessels. There is an enemy frigate moving toward CFS Dauntless. I believe it intends to ram. Dauntless is completely disabled and without communications. It is possible they have no scanners either, so they may not even be aware of the threat. Any ships within range to intervene, please do so. That enemy ship must be destroyed.”

  Lafarge sat, waiting while her message moved out at lightspeed, and any responses came back.

  “Captain Lafarge, this is Commodore Eaton. My vessels are at full thrust, altering our vectors to respond…but out velocity is too great. We won’t be in range before that thing gets to Dauntless.”

  Lafarge could hear the frustration in Eaton’s voice. She knew the officer would do everything possible, but none of it would make a difference. Physics was a cruel master, and Eaton’s ships were a slave to their current courses and velocities.

  We’re not going to make it either…not that we could do anything anyway. She almost ordered Merrick to cut the engines, but she held the command back. She knew she couldn’t achieve anything, but it would be worse to just sit there, not even making the futile effort.

  “I’ve ordered all my closest ships to respond, Captain Lafarge…but I’m afraid they will arrive even later than Commodore Eaton’s.” It was a male voice, gruff, an older man she’d have guessed. Commander Vennius? Who else could it be? The fact that the officer hadn’t identified himself suggested that he, too, was upset and distracted by Dauntless’s plight.

  She stared at the display. There had to be some way. She couldn’t just sit there and watch Dauntless destroyed…watch Barron die.

  Assuming he’s still alive…

  He is.

  She knew the danger, the chance that everyone on Dauntless was dead. But she didn’t believe it. Somehow, she knew he was alive. And now she was going to see him die, along with everyone else on Dauntless.

  * * *

  Stockton sat in his ship. The thoughts in his head had been a war between satisfaction at finally running down and killing his prey…and the realization that no amount of vengeance would bring Vagabond and Talon back. Then he heard Lafarge’s broadcast.

  Dauntless was in peril. Captain Barron, Commander Travis. Stara…

  He looked down at his scanners, and he knew in a minute. No one was close enough to respond. Not Vennius’s forces, not Eaton’s ships, not even the squadrons.

  No one but him.

  His mad chase had taken him almost directly bac
k toward Dauntless. His gut told him he could intercept the enemy ship before it hit its target. It would take full thrust, and a precise course adjustment, but he could do it.

  He ran the calculations, confirming what he already knew. Yes, it could work.

  He took a deep breath. A fighter against a frigate. It was a difficult matchup. No, not difficult. Damned near impossible. But it was the only way to save Dauntless.

  He flipped on his comm. “This is Raptor. I can intercept.”

  He ran the course calculations a second time, and he had the AI double check as well. There was no room for error. He didn’t have the time or the fuel for mistakes.

  “Raptor, you can’t take on a frigate alone.” It was Jamison.

  “There’s no other way, Thunder.” A pause. “I’ll figure something.” He felt a moment of uncertainty, a taste of the fear that had plagued him in recent weeks. But he slammed down on it hard. I will do whatever has to be done.

  “Raptor, even if you can catch that ship…you’ll burn all your fuel, and you’ll be blasting into space at an insane velocity.”

  “There’s no other way, Thunder.” He blasted his thrusters, feeling the force slam into him an instant later. “There’s no choice.”

  * * *

  “Fritzie?”

  “I’m here, Captain.” The sound was poor on the portable comm units, but it was a hell of a lot better than sending runners back and forth on a ship four kilometers long, especially in zero gravity.

  Barron looked around the bridge as he spoke, at the smoke and wreckage…and Lieutenant Darrow’s dead body, or at least the parts of it sticking out from the immense girder than had crushed him. That would have been Atara.

  “Fritzie…any chance at getting the scanners back online?”

  His ship was in critical condition, but one thing had changed. The pounding had stopped. It had been twenty minutes since the last laser blast had hit Dauntless. And this was the sixth time in that period he’d asked Fritz about the scanners.