by Andy Hoare
'Helm, best speed for the Rosetta, by the fastest route, if you will. Lucian ordered.
'Through the-? Helmsman Raldi started to reply. 'Centre of Luneberg's fleet, yes, if that is the fastest route. Lucian interjected. 'Shields to full, main drives to full, all secondary systems to stand by.
Once again, servitors worked their consoles while the few men in the deck crew hurried to ensure that Lucian's orders were enacted. In times such as these, it was evident that the servitors were more efficient in the prosecution of their tasks, yet he still mourned for an age when the Oceanid was crewed by men and women of courage and soul.
Lucian watched the read-outs and dials as they reported the Oceanid's main drives building to full power. The shields too were drawing as much power as their mighty generatoria could provide, the myriad of non-critical systems across the vessel powering down for the duration. Lucian hoped they would have the opportunity to power up again.
He studied the nature and deployment of Luneberg's vessels. Although still some distance away, he judged that they were not large ships, most about the size of an escort. Two, however, were of greater mass, Lucian estimating them equivalent to light cruiser scale. Ordinarily, the Oceanid, being equivalent to a heavy cruiser would have little trouble seeing them off, but in her current condition, and with the aliens in the fight too, he was not quite so confident. Nevertheless, he had set himself on this course of action, and he would see it through.
Studying the positions of Luneberg's ships, Lucian saw that they must be under the Imperial Commander's personal command, for they were deployed in such a way as to follow behind the lead cruiser, providing a dense escort, yet ill-prepared to provide one another with any effective fire support. He grinned, seeing in Luneberg's deployment a means of gaining some, much needed, advantage.
'Helm, set your intersect at plus nine, seventeen to port.
Helmsman Raldi hesitated as he calculated the course, and then replied, 'Right through the middle of them, sir?
Lucian saw the hint of a grin touch Raldi's lips as he turned to confirm the order, replying, 'Aye helm, right through the middle. We'll scatter them to the solar winds'
Lucian leant back in his command throne, gripping the arms as he felt the Oceanid's drives reach the peak of their potential output. A glance at the data-screens around the throne and suspended from the ceiling above him told Lucian that his ship would pass through Luneberg's fleet at exactly the point he intended. Furthermore, the manoeuvre would carry them through to link up with the Rosetta, all going well.
Lucian counted down the distance between the Oceanid and Luneberg's fleet, his gaze fixed on the point in space less than half a kilometre to port of the vessel that he judged to be Luneberg's flagship. Trim point two five to port, Mister Raldi' he ordered, reducing the distance at which the two ships would pass to an absurd two hundred and fifty metres. Closer even than old Jeliko strafing the traitor grand cruiser at the Battle of Van Goethe's Rapidity, he guessed, although his ancestor did end his career by ramming an ork ship, so maybe he wouldn't beat his record quite yet.
After a minute, he noted how the vessels of Luneberg's fleet reacted to his bearing straight at them. At first, the smaller escorts began to move away, but then returned to their previous headings. If only we could listen in on Luneberg's command channel, Lucian thought. No doubt, the Imperial Commander was turning the ether blue with his orders to his escorts to protect his flagship from the Oceanid's mad course.
The range reduced still further, and in no time at all the Oceanid was bearing in on Luneberg's fleet. The enemy vessels fully within visual range, Lucian saw that the smaller vessels were, as he had estimated, escorts. They were of a class he had only rarely seen, being more common amongst system and subsector reserve fleets of the southern reaches. They were old by any accounting, and ill-suited to even the smallest of fleet actions. They were better suited to convoy duties, where they would art as a reasonable deterrent to opportunistic raiders, who would be unlikely to risk even a single salvo from their prow torpedoes.
Speaking of torpedoes, Lucian knew that only the Rosetta carried such a weapon, the arsenals of the other two rogue trader vessels having years ago exhausted the last of their stocks and their replacement unlikely in the current situation. A single torpedo might cost as much as a light cruiser, and so Lucian had placed his son under the strictest instructions only to fire their last one under his direct orders. It had become something of an irony that the most valuable heirloom his son possessed was a weapon he dared not use.
Another minute passed, and Lucian saw that the escorts were turning from the Oceanid's path once again, their captains evidently developing some sense of self-preservation, or perhaps serious but temporary communications problems. As he had hoped it would, the Chasmatan fleet scattered, almost in slow motion, before him, each escort choosing its own heading. Lucian leant forwards in his command throne as he studied the enemy movements, judging each captain's skill from the manner in which he handled his ship. Two of the escorts came perilously dose to one another as they veered desperately to starboard, causing Lucian to bark out a harsh laugh as he judged the enemy captains' skill only slightly higher than those of a drunken ork.
At the last, the Oceanid closed in on the lead cruiser, gliding past it so close that the discharge of its manoeuvring thrusters sprayed across her bow as the other vessel sought to steer out of her path. The sight of Luneberg's flagship filled the portside viewers. She was so close that Lucian could read the vessel's name painted in fifty foot tall letters along her prow. The Borealis Defensor, Lucian read, judging the title typical of the ego of its master.
As the Oceanid completed her manoeuvre, Luneberg's fleet was scattered, its constituent vessels spread over an area of space up to twenty kilometres across, and each on an entirely different heading. It would take even a skilled admiral some time to consolidate his force, thought Lucian, and he was damn sure that Luneberg was anything other than that.
He watched on the flickering holograph as the Chasmatan fleet attempted, in vain, to knot itself into something resembling order. If only he had been travelling at a speed at which he could have unleashed a broadside. As much as he would have savoured the opportunity to damage Luneberg's flagship, that had not been the objective of his manoeuvre. Instead, he had hoped only to buy time for his son.
The enemy fleet did not redeploy in the manner he had expected it to. He had been certain it would be forced to spend some considerable time bringing its vessels around and regaining its previous formation, before powering after him towards the Rosetta, but that was not what they appeared to be doing.
Lucian watched intently as the escorts closed in once more on the two cruisers. Although ragged and ungraceful, the fleet soon regained some semblance of order, continuing on its previous course.
Lucian reached forwards and turned a dial on the plinth of the holograph, the static-filled, grainy projection above it blurring, before regaining focus, having zoomed out several dozen kilometres.
Lucian saw immediately the course on which the Chasmatan fleet was engaged. Luneberg was taking his ships against the alien vessels, which had formed up on one another and were likewise homing in on the other ships.
He could scarcely believe his luck. His enemies were going to pummel each other to the warp while he made good his escape!
The two fleets closed on one another with stately elegance, and Lucian felt tempted to pour himself a drink as Luneberg's force manoeuvred for what the Imperial Commander obviously intended to be a fearsome exchange of fire. Would the aliens really allow themselves to be drawn into such a position for a third time? Amazingly, it appeared to Lucian that the xenos vessels were indeed heading for another pasting, although he noted that this time they clustered together for mutual defence. He ran the coming action through his mind, estimating that the two cruisers of Luneberg's fleet would have the better of a broadside, if they could pull one off, although they would pay a high price as the aliens
converged their fire in retaliation.
That, however, would have to wait, Lucian realised, as the servitor at the communications station had evidently been successful in opening a channel to Korvane.
'… ahead Oceanid', Korvane's voice sounded amidst a riot of static laden interference. 'This is Korvane'
'Korvane? replied Lucian, filled with a sudden relief at the sound of his son's voice. 'Korvane, what's your situation?
'Father. Korvane's voice came back, made distorted and tinny by interference on the channel. 'I am inbound to the Rosetta, e.t.a. ten minutes.
'Good to hear Korvane. replied Lucian, realising that his delaying attack against the aliens had indeed bought his son the time to make a dash for the Rosetta aboard his shuttle. 'I take it you evaded the invasion forces?
'Invasion forces? Korvane's reply came back. 'Father, I don't think you-
'That'll have to wait, Korvane. cut in Lucian. 'For now we need to concentrate on not getting involved, in finding Brielle and getting clear of this-
'No, Father. cut in Korvane, Lucian realising instantly that something must be severely amiss for his son to speak in such a manner. 'We are involved'
Despite the howling feedback and static flooding the communications channel, Lucian picked up on his son's tone instantly, and he didn't like it one bit. 'Explain. he said.
There was a moment's delay as only angry static answered Lucian, and then Korvane's voice came back. 'We are involved. The Rosetta arrived unexpectedly early at Arris Epsilon, Father, and in your absence I made contact with Imperial Commander Zachary Droon.
'And?
'And, I told him of Luneberg's treacherous actions at the talks, and Droon told me of the ongoing conflict between the two worlds.
'It's just a bush war, Korvane, nothing we need get involved with.
'Yes, Father, but he asked me for help, and he offered to pay quite a considerable-
'You've signed us over to some border princeling? Lucian felt his gorge rise, and fought to keep his temper in check despite the fact that he was quite sure he knew what his son's answer would be.
'I have pledged Droon our aid in ending the war against Luneberg.
Lucian stood, anger flaring within him. 'You may not have noticed, Korvane, but it appears that Luneberg has the same idea. Why the hell couldn't Korvane have kept out of it? he thought, trying, despite himself, not to condemn his son for his actions.
'Aye, Father, so I see, but I have negotiated a highly favourable deal, one that will recoup the losses incurred thus far. With the aid of the tau we will-
'The aliens, I take it? Lucian interrupted his son.
'Yes, the aliens. I had no choice, but the deal may recoup our losses.
Lucian knew Korvane referred to the collapsed deal with Luneberg, as if that was the fault of anyone other than the mad Imperial Commander. He sighed, knowing that his son was, if nothing else, an expert in such matters, and would have the deal sewn up so tight that he would have little choice other than to honour it. Well, he thought, looking to the holograph where he saw the two fleets about to clash, looks like we're sticking around for the fight.
'Right then. announced Lucian, decided upon his course. 'Listen, Korvane, am the Arcadius, not you, not Brielle, and not some squabbling petty noble. I say how our fortunes are made or lost. I say how we live or how we die. Do I make myself clear?
Lucian listened for Korvane's response, which came after a short delay. 'Father, I understand, but I had no-
'You will do as I say or I will denounce your claim! Lucian bellowed, determined now more than ever to rein in his son's good intentions. Good intentions never got anyone anywhere, not in the galaxy in which he lived.
'Now listen. Lucian said, feeling a measure of calm returning now that he had put Korvane in his place. 'This is how we're going to get the hell out of this mess you've negotiated us all into.
The Fairlight burst out of the Immaterium, Brielle immediately scanning the surrounding space for signs of her father or her stepbrother. She found them straight away, as she had expected to do, but she was somewhat shocked to see two entire fleets of vessels, apparently closing in on one another, as well.
'What the hell has he got us into now? she asked herself, deciding immediately that something must have gone terribly wrong. She activated the data-slates surrounding her command throne, a dozen and more screens lowering from the shadows above. The screens sputtered to life, the Fairlight's cogitator banks pumping reams upon reams of data across them. With practiced ease, she separated out the superfluous information, homing in on that which she needed.
The Oceanid and the Rosetta, her father's vessel closing fast on her stepbrother's, which appeared at anchor. One hundred and ten kilometres from their position, two fleets. One human, Luneberg's, she knew, and one not. She smiled.
Reaching up to adjust the data-slates' settings, Brielle homed in on the other two rogue trader vessels, picking up a signal from-
'Brielle? The communication grilles set in the back of her command throne burst into life, causing her to jump in shock. She spat a spacer's curse, before answering sweetly.
'Father, this is Brielle, what's happening? Are you alright?
'Yes, Brielle, now listen, as I won't repeat myself. He wasted no time in pleasantries, she thought, typical of him to get straight to the point. 'Rosetta and Fairlight are to converge on my position and follow my orders to the letter. You will not deviate from the course I give you, and you will not fire upon any targets until I order you to do so. Do I make myself completely clear?
For a moment, Brielle was speechless. What the hell was his problem? 'Father. she replied. 'I am perfectly-
'Do I make myself completely clear? her father repeated, his tone angry and brooking no argument.
'Completely. she said, slamming her fist down on the console and closing the channel. How the hell could he speak to her like that? Who the hell did he think she was? Had Korvane poisoned him against her to such an extent that this was how it would be from here on out?
Well, she thought, her stepbrother had had his day. She'd already seen to that.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lucian stood in the centre of his bridge, studying the flickering image projected into the air by the holograph. The green globe was incomplete, almost half of the space invisible to him thanks to a damaged near-space augur array. Three groups of icons dominated the remainder, the one representing the Oceanid sitting dead centre, the movements of the others relayed relative to her position.
Some one hundred kilometres to the Oceanid's fore, two of the groups of icons danced, reams of data scrolling next to each. The larger of the groups represented the alien vessels, and there were five of these. Lucian noted, with a professional's appreciation, the formation that the alien ships had assumed, their weapons' fields of fire overlapping in such a manner as to make approach from any angle other than directly to stern all but suicidal.
In contrast to the aliens' deployment, the other group displayed only disarray. Lucian sneered as he regarded its arrangement, one cruiser and a dozen or so smaller escorts clustered around the vessel that he knew to be Imperial Commander Culpepper Luneberg's flagship. It was typical of the man's flawed character that he should deny his captains the benefit of a mutually supportive fire plan, instead concentrating solely on his own protection. He sought to destroy his enemy, the forces of the Imperial Commander Zachary Droon, but was evidently determined to minimise any risk to his own, personal safety. Well, thought Lucian, space battles were no respecters of safety, personal or otherwise.
The alien fleet and that of Imperial Commander Luneberg were currently engaged in the opening moves of what Lucian was quite sure would prove to be the last battle for one of them. Luneberg's forces had sought to engage their foe, but had been evaded now on several passes. The aliens would fight, of that Lucian was certain, but they had been hurt by his own broadsides, and would do so only on their own terms. The ballet continued: the humans unable t
o close on their target, and the aliens thus far unwilling to be closed upon.
The last group of icons visible in the holograph's globe of light represented his own, small flotilla. The Oceanid was a capable heavy cruiser, despite the damage she had suffered in recent engagements. Ten kilometres to the Oceanid's port side lay the Rosetta, the cruiser captained by Lucian's son, Korvane, who, only minutes before, had returned by shuttle from the surface of the world below. Inbound on their position, a mere fifteen kilometres distant, was the third and last of Lucian's fleet, the cruiser, Fairlight, captained by his daughter, Brielle.
Lucian folded his arms as he considered his position, prowling around the holograph, seeking to examine the situation, literally, from every possible angle. He had been pitched into this battle by the actions of his son, who had negotiated an alliance with Imperial Commander Zachary Droon. The only problem was, he had destroyed one of the aliens' vessels and crippled another before his son had informed him that these aliens were, by dint of the agreement brokered by his son, allies. The life of a rogue trader was never a simple one.
'Fairlight. Lucian said, the servitor at the Oceanid's communications station patching him through to the bridge of his daughter's ship.
'Go ahead, Father' came the response. Lucian noted instantly that his daughter sounded even more uptight than normal. He had no time to worry about her state of mind however.
'Rosetta. The servitor opened the channel to the bridge of Korvane's ship.
Lucian reached down to the console at the base of the holograph and depressed a control stud. 'I am transmitting the approach plan to you both. You will note your positions within that plan. Do you receive and understand?
He waited, affording his son and his daughter the time to relay the headings to their respective helmsmen. A minute later, his son was the first to respond.
'Understood, Father' Lucian was pleased to note that his son offered no further response. Perhaps he was suitably chastised following their earlier confrontation on the subject of Korvane's negotiating the alliance with Droon in his father's absence.