Empires in Ruin

by Anthony James

  “We’re piling up the guesses, folks,” said Recker, guiding the shuttle through the final right-hand turn. High-sided buildings rose on each side and the landing strip was visible ahead. “And we all know what happens then.”

  “One more guess, sir,” said Burner. “If the Lavorix ground attackers are dead, there’s nothing stopping the mothership from using its Extractor again.”

  “Thanks, for the prediction, Lieutenant.”

  Instead of flying straight onto the landing field, Recker slowed the shuttle at the last moment, so that his crew could scan for threats.

  “There’s the Ildinir, sir,” said Aston, pointing at the feed.

  A twin row of warehouses separated the landing strip from the construction yard and the annihilator was positioned directly over them, eight kilometres north.

  From the size of the fires and the quantity of debris, Recker could tell that the battleship’s crew hadn’t restrained themselves. As he watched, the Ildinir pelted several further structures with plasma warheads. The warship didn’t wait around and it climbed vertically away from the destruction, rotating smoothly in the air as it gained altitude.

  Content that any nearby Lavorix forces had been eliminated, Recker flew the shuttle onto the landing strip. This was the first opportunity he’d been granted to observe the wreckage of the crashed enemy battleship and it was no less impressive than he’d expected. Two vast sections of the hull – just about recognizable as having once formed a spaceship – lay west to east along the landing strip. Craters and torn armour told of the damage the enemy craft had suffered and the heat was nowhere near dissipated.

  Other, smaller but not small, pieces of the warship were scattered more widely and Recker piloted the shuttle around them while keeping his eye on the Vengeance, twenty kilometres away near the far corner. Wreckage had landed near the warship, but the worst of it was farther north.

  “Maybe we should fly back to the Aeklu in this shuttle, now that the Langinstol and Ildinir have cleared the way,” said Aston. “It’ll be a lot quicker than boarding the Vengeance.”

  “I already thought about that, Commander,” said Recker. “All it takes is a single Lavorix missile launcher, hidden under cover somewhere, and this shuttle will be destroyed. We’re going to spend that extra few minutes and we’re going to return with the big guns.”

  “And if we happen to get a shot at a few of those enemy support craft at the same time, so much the better.”

  Recker glanced over and Aston’s expression was studiously neutral. “The Vengeance is our best bet, Commander.”

  “I agree, sir. It’s my duty to advise you of the alternatives.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Thank you.” With that out of the way, Recker gave his next command. “Lieutenant Burner, I’d like to speak with Captain Razdin-Tiel. He’s been assigned to fly the Verumol and was planning to board that warship if he was able.”

  “There’s no sign of a comms receptor for him, sir,” said Burner, shortly after. “Who does he report to?”

  “Admiral Ivinstol.”

  Burner went quiet for a few seconds. “The Admiral’s channel is either unavailable or is being hidden to limit the inbound comms requests.”

  “Leave it for the moment,” said Recker. “We’re getting better results talking to the warship crews, so keep on at them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Recker switched to the squad channel. “Sergeant Vance, Sergeant Shadar, in about sixty seconds I’m setting us down on top of the Vengeance. We’re exiting this shuttle at the double and entering the warship through the topside hatch.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Vance.

  “Has Lieutenant Larson been keeping you updated?” asked Recker.

  “Yes, sir, she has.”

  Recker closed out of the channel and concentrated on the forward feed. The shuttle passed a lump of burning alloy, a few million tons in mass, and then sped into an open area of the landing strip. Not far ahead, the Vengeance’s menacing low-profile shape grew until it filled the bulkhead screen. New scars and old covered its armour and Recker itched to be onboard.

  At the last moment, he brought the shuttle into a climb, which gave a better view of the Vengeance’s V-shaped hull. Recker’s eyes sought the location of the topside hatch and he found it after a few seconds.

  “There,” he said, turning the shuttle in the air. “Let’s set down and get out of here.”

  With a thump, he landed the transport and then held his breath for a few seconds in case it began sliding along the gentle slope of the Vengeance’s hull. The shuttle held and Recker took his hands off the controls.

  “Move!” he ordered on the comms.

  Recker jumped from his seat, grabbing his rifle from the floor where he’d left it. Three strides and he was out of the cockpit and into the passenger bay, where the soldiers were already clustered near the exit door.

  “Ready, sir?” asked Vance.

  “Do it.”

  Vance opened the side door and jumped outside, along with Sergeant Shadar and Private Gantry. Recker and his crew were the only ones who could open the Vengeance’s hatch and the other soldiers made space for them to pass.

  The night-time air had fallen well below zero and the HUD in Recker’s suit flashed a reminder that he shouldn’t take his helmet off. He jumped onto the hard exterior of the Vengeance and hurried down the slight incline to where the hatch was located, fifteen metres away.

  The slope of the armour wasn’t so much that Recker needed to watch his feet and he looked around him. North, puddles of red and orange covered the downed wreck of the Lavorix battleship, while to the west, the incomprehensible mass of the Verumol blocked sight of anything beyond. South, the horizon possessed a sullen glow from the aftermath of the recent firestorm which had killed so many of the base personnel. Only to the east was the pure darkness of night retained and Recker stared for a moment into those endless depths.

  Vance was nearby. “Sir, the hatch.”

  Another few steps and Recker was at the access panel. He was about to stoop to open the hatch when he was gripped by a feeling of dread. Movement in his periphery made him turn towards the south, where he saw the blue ovoid of the enemy mothership’s shield. The Lavorix vessel was travelling fast and on a low trajectory that would see it land directly on the base.

  “What the hell?” said Recker.

  Rather than crashing, the Lavorix warship levelled out at an altitude of less than a thousand metres. It didn’t slow and its energy shield tore through the ruins of Ivisto like a plough ripping up frozen ground.

  “Oh shit,” said Private Ken Raimi.

  Onwards came the enemy ship, its shield creating a huge furrow of broken and uprooted buildings. The filthy light of the shield wasn’t enough to hide the outline of the warship within and Recker was granted a first sight of his opponent.

  Like the other Laws of Ancidium, this warship was so massive that it defied both the eye and the brain to believe such a construction could exist. Recker guessed it was longer than thirty thousand metres, with a rounded cuboid for its main section and a tapered nose. Underneath, he saw what appeared to be two enormous, full-length landing skids, attached to the main structure of the warship by many huge beams. The obscuring effects of the shield blocked his view of the external weaponry, though Recker was sure the enemy craft had plenty of everything.

  Even as it approached, the Lavorix craft launched a tremendous quantity of missiles into the sky, while its hundreds of gauss repeaters created a lightshow of clean, sharp lines which raked into the heavens.

  “What’s it doing, sir?” asked Private Weiland Steigers.

  The answer came to Recker like a punch in the temple. “It’s trying to block our access to the Aeklu and Verumol,” he said. “The Lavorix are going to use that energy shield as protection while they pile their troops into the spaceships. Then, they’re going to fly out of here and there won’t be a damned thing we can do about it.”

  “Da
mn,” said Private Eric Drawl.

  Recker couldn’t have put it better himself.

  Chapter Eight

  Like Recker had feared, the enemy spaceship flew in a direct line towards the construction yard. The Langinstol, the Ildinir and the HPA heavy cruiser Pulveriser bombarded its shield with missiles, while the orbital fleet rained down hundreds more. The Law of Ancidium responded in kind and the Ildinir’s countermeasures were overwhelmed by a punishing wave of Lavorix missiles.

  The visor on Recker’s helmet darkened automatically. It wasn’t enough and he shielded his eyes to see how this spectacle would end.

  Struck multiple times, the annihilator broke off, its hull showing terrible damage. The battleship’s propulsion betrayed no loss of efficiency and the Daklan craft hurtled towards the eastern horizon, still firing missiles and countermeasures.

  For long moments, Recker found himself mesmerised by this display of unrestrained technological savagery. The allied fleet didn’t withdraw - the Langinstol stayed in proximity and was joined by the Pulveriser and the Incendus. All three hovered north of the construction yard and, though each one had taken a beating, they didn’t let up in their attacks.

  Then, missiles sped in a blur from east, so low across the landing field that they barely cleared the wreckage of the Lavorix battleship, before smashing into the energy shield.

  “The Ildinir didn’t go far,” said Recker in admiration of the crew’s bravery.

  “Sir, the hatch,” said Vance, more forcefully this time.

  Recker crouched and touched his fingers to the access panel. The hatch slid open, revealing a ladder. At the bottom, was an airlift that went almost to the bridge. He lifted his head again, in time to see the Lavorix spaceship halt directly above and between the Aeklu and the Verumol.

  With no idea what the enemy shields were capable of, Recker wasn’t surprised to find that the two docked Laws of Ancidium weren’t knocked aside when the barrier hit them. Instead, each was partially encompassed within the ovoid. Where the blue energy touched their hulls it formed a perfect join. Then, the shield expanded along all three axes until the Aeklu and Verumol were both completely inside.

  “Maybe it’s weaker now that it’s bigger,” said Private Drawl hopefully.

  “Let’s hope so, Private,” said Recker. He gestured towards the hatch. “In,” he ordered, reaching for the top rung of the ladder.

  A pulse of energy swept across the landing strip and it was the first time Recker had felt the Extractor as a physical force. It struck him hard and his limbs became frozen. Already committed to the ladder, he toppled towards the opening. The last emotion he felt in the moment before he lost consciousness and before the pain became too much to bear, was anger at his enemy and at his own body for succumbing once again to the Extractor.

  Time passed, though Recker was oblivious. He heard a noise somewhere nearby and his mind assembled the components of the sound into words.

  “Time to get up, sir.”

  “Wakey,” said a second voice.

  “What?” Recker mumbled. In his chest, he felt a painful thudding, like his heart had gone into overdrive. He must have fallen into the entrance shaft, yet somehow, he hadn’t broken his neck.

  His eyes didn’t want to open and he was dimly aware that someone was shaking him. He remembered the anger and his eyes snapped open. Everywhere around him was dark, though he saw shapes recognizable as humans and Daklan.

  “What happened?” It was the first question that jumped into his mind.

  “You fell and Corporal Hendrix caught you, sir. I’ve never seen anyone move so fast.” This time, Recker’s brain identified the owner of the voice. It was Private Ossie Carrington.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “The Vengeance’s airlift, sir,” said Private Titus Enfield cheerfully. “Unvak’s carrying you over his shoulder.”

  “You have been injected with an additional dose of Frenziol,” said the Daklan.

  The airlift stopped at the bottom of its shaft and the door opened, letting in more light. In moments, the soldiers – no more than half of the platoon - had exited and Recker spotted Commander Aston cradled between the arms of Lumis. She was awake, but her eyes were half closed.

  “Put me down,” said Recker. The thumping in his chest hadn’t gone away and his breathing was fast and shallow, but he was feeling stronger by the second. He sensed distant pain and guessed the Frenziol was keeping it at bay.

  “As you wish,” said Unvak, leaning forward and dropping Recker onto his feet.

  “Thanks.” Recker’s legs wobbled, though not enough for him to fall. His confusion was rapidly fading and his mind patched in the missing pieces of information.

  “Is someone bringing the rest of my crew?” he asked.

  They’re probably arguing over who gets to carry Lieutenant Larson.

  Sergeant Shadar was a little way further along the corridor. “The lift has returned to collect them.”

  “I’m going to the bridge,” said Recker. “Commander Aston?”

  “Shitting shitbags,” she said with feeling.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Recker’s first two paces were accomplished with the support of the cold passage wall. Then, his balance improved and, shortly, he was running as quickly as the cramped interior of the warship allowed. Aston had shaken off the worst of the effects and she kept pace. When Recker glanced over his shoulder, she gave him a defiant grin.

  “I heard what Private Carrington said.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I bet Corporal Hendrix would appreciate the thanks.”

  “Later,” Recker said. He didn’t need to think about it right now.

  Aston knew when it was time to shut up and she changed the subject. “How come the platoon handled the Extractor better than we did?” she asked.

  “Sergeant Vance and Sergeant Shadar are seasoned officers, Commander. If I had to guess, I’d say the moment they heard the Lavorix had arrived, they all took two extra booster shots instead of just one.”

  “Crafty bastards. I say that in full admiration.”

  “Whoever the order came from, they’ve given us a chance.”

  “A chance at what, sir?”

  “I don’t know,” said Recker. He ran past the turning that led to the tiny mess room. “I’ve been thinking about what Lieutenant Burner heard about the lightspeed missiles.” He arrived at the steps leading up to the bridge and he sprang up them two at a time.

  “Are you going to tell me?”

  “I always do, Commander,” said Recker, striking his palm onto the bridge access panel.

  The door opened and the bridge was exactly how it always was – metals an eternity old, moulded into technology capable of destroying planets. Recker dropped into his seat and Aston sat in the one adjacent.

  “Pre-flight checks while we wait for Adam and Jo,” he ordered.

  “You’re going to keep quiet about your idea for as long as possible, aren’t you?”

  Recker laughed, though it made his head hurt. “I’m sorry, Commander, that’s not my intention. I’m turning things over in my mind – that’s all it is.”

  The Vengeance had been on regular, active patrols during the last few months, and its online systems were in a state of readiness. Recker checked in with Burner and Larson on the comms and learned they were both awake and heading for the bridge. He also learned a new curse word from Larson, who, as one of the more refined members of the crew, did not usually dabble in the vernacular.

  Recker closed out of the channel and watched the bulkhead screens illuminate. A few seconds later, the external feeds appeared.

  “Sensors up,” said Aston.

  “What have we got?” asked Recker, his eyes jumping from screen to screen.

  “I need to adjust the lens direction,” said Aston. “One moment.”

  The bridge door opened, allowing Burner and Larson to enter. The latter was no longer uttering the same imprecations as e
arlier and she took her seat at once.

  “Commander Aston, I’ve got the sensors,” she said.

  “All yours, Lieutenant.”

  “Damn, I need a coffee,” said Burner, dumping himself into his own seat.

  “Forget the coffee – Lieutenant Eastwood is somewhere in the middle of all that crap,” said Recker. “Find out if he’s alive and find out what the defence force is planning.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Judging by the sensor feeds, the defence force was planning to hit the Lavorix capital ship with high explosives until either its shield ran out of power, or their magazines ran dry. Recker knew how strong that shield was, but if he’d been asked to lay a bet, his money would have been on ten thousand plasma warheads as the eventual winner.

  The Lavorix would know that too and, though he hadn’t been given much time to think about it, Recker suspected the enemy had taken a gamble. The big question was how much they’d risk before they ran for the hills.

  “Time to spill the beans, sir,” said Aston.

  “You’ve already guessed what I’m thinking, Commander. I can see it in your face.”

  “There’s a plan?” asked Burner.

  “The Captain has taken inspiration from the Daklan lightspeed missiles, Lieutenant.”

  Recker nodded and spelled it out. “We’re going to perform a mode 3 transit through the enemy shield and put an Executor hole right where they don’t want one.”

  “Couldn’t we wait the six minutes for the standard warmup procedure to complete, sir?” asked Larson.

  “Two problems with that suggestion, Lieutenant – time and distance. In six minutes, the enemy may have accomplished their mission, and secondly, the control software for the standard drive warmup won’t permit an on-off propulsion switchover in such a short time. We’d need to fly a sufficient distance away from the enemy ship at sub-light speeds before we could attempt the lightspeed jump into their shield.”

  “So we mode 3 in and then they blow the crap out of us,” said Burner.