by Kal Spriggs
Emperor Romulus IV had been the last Emperor's younger son, and while he seemed cut from different cloth, Garret hadn't had a chance to take his measure. In truth, in many ways it didn't matter if he was different from his father and grandfather. No one would see him as being different until he proved himself and few people wanted to give him that opportunity.
“We are here,” Garret said, “because Commodore Pierce gave his word. We're here to free people from Chxor occupation... and we're here to get paid.”
“Pay is good,” Heller said, “but I don't see much money in getting killed for some spoiled rich boy.”
“That's why I don't pay you to think, Heller,” Commodore Pierce said genially from the hatch.
Garret stood up quickly, “Sir, I didn't know you'd come aboard.” They were holding the game in one of the wing's carrier craft, in a tiny storeroom, out of the way and someplace where Garret could overlook rank, even in a unit as loose about rank as the War Dogs. Even so, the ship's captain should have announced the Commodore's arrival, if only to give everyone fair notice.
“I didn't announce my arrival so I could ease into conversations like this one,” Commodore Pierce said, as if he had read their minds. Then again, it wasn't a hard leap to make, Garret knew. “What we are doing here is what Garret said: we're getting paid and we're sticking by the promises I made back at Faraday to Baron Giovanni. We aren't here to reinstate the Nova Roma Emperor. We aren't here to throw our lives away against the Chxor.”
He shrugged, “It's a risky plan... but it is also one with a great deal of potential.” He smiled then, “Heller, how much do you think one of those Chxor dreadnoughts would be worth at Tanis?”
Heller frowned and she pulled out her earbuds. She waggled her fingers in the air for a moment as she did sums, “I'd guess a few hundred million Tanis Doubloons, minimum.”
“The last time Baron Giovanni fought the Chxor, he captured thirty of those ships, plus another two hundred of their cruisers... the cruisers mostly intact. I've worked out a contract with him where we split damaged ships fifty-fifty between Admiral Collae and the War Dogs... and we have preference on selection for the ones we want as well as salvage rights to the wreckage too damaged to be repaired.”
Heller pulled a sucker out of her pocket, unwrapped it, and then popped it in her mouth. “That's... a lot of money, if we win.”
“That's why I pay you Heller, to make sure we win,” Commodore Pierce said. He glanced over Abigail's shoulder and spoke, “Four aces, really? Garret, I think your girlfriend is cheating.”
***
Demetrius felt a wave of dread as the Chxor guard pushed him roughly into the back of the van. His entire command team was already there. All across Nova Roma, Chxor were arresting the entire rebel network... and if this was some kind of grand betrayal by Kral, then his people were done.
Not one of his people spoke as the van started up and drove away. Some of them stared ahead, caught up in their own fears and worries, while others looked down, their thoughts focused on what they planned to do.
If this is not a betrayal, Demetrius thought, then I will finally have the opportunity to strike. Some part of him marveled that the opportunity came as a consequence of the Nova Roma Emperor. No, Demetrius thought, he might be the direction, but it is Baron Giovanni who is truly responsible. That thought warmed him. Surely if the Baron was behind this, then it would work.
The van rolled to a stop and the Chxor guards pulled them out. They were at the spaceport, Demetrius saw, which was a good sign. This part, though, would be the most dangerous, for the Chxor guards here were not Kral's people.
Here and there he saw these Chxor apply whips and prods to move his people faster or simply from cruelty. Unlike most of his people, Demetrius could read the Chxor language and he memorized the names of the Chxor who abused his people. If they survived, he would find them and make certain to they received as good as they gave.
Finally, however, his group was herded aboard a shuttle with the other teams. Demetrius smiled in the dim lighting of the cargo hold as his people linked up, right on time, all thanks to Chxor efficiency. If the weapons are in place, and Kral's people release us on schedule, then we will finally have a chance to strike back, Demetrius thought.
He didn't ask for a certain victory. That, he knew, was impossible to guarantee. The plan was full of risks, with thousands of tiny details that he and Kral had spent countless hours working over. The planetary defense centers were the lynchpin of the entire plan. Some were in orbit, some were on the ground, and both types had to be seized, since each of those installations housed weapons batteries that could level cities or destroy the orbital docks and habitats.
Kral felt certain that his people could secure the handful of ships that he didn't already control here at Nova Roma... but Nova Umbria was another matter entirely. They had not been able to infiltrate the ships of Fleet Commander Chxum's forces as well as Demetrius would like. They could be certain of a mutiny aboard many of those ships, with human conscripts backed by sympathetic Chxor officers, but they were far from being certain they could secure any of the ships.
Also, the planetary defense centers of Nova Umbria would be harder battles. Unlike Nova Roma, they hadn't been able to preposition his teams there. Most of Nova Umbria's facilities were planet-based, which meant that his teams there could at least move into position on foot. But the three heaviest facilities were orbital... which meant they had to utilize other options.
Demetrius's greatest fear was that a single Chxor officer might have the opportunity to deploy some of the Pacifix Seven nerve gas at one of the population centers or orbital habitats. The bastards had already used it as a 'demonstration' at Perihelion Station. The once thriving trade station had become a lifeless hulk in only minutes.
Several of the other stations had emplaced demolition charges or even nuclear weapons, but Kral had given his people the details on the locations and how to go about disarming them. The problem was that the Pacifix gas canisters were light and easy to use, and completely harmless to the Chxor who might employ them. Given even a few minutes, a Chxor could kill millions if he opened one in the right place on a station, or tens of millions if those canisters were hooked up to a proper dispersal system on one of the Chxor's shuttles.
In his heart, Demetrius knew that his people couldn't stop all of the Chxor diehards from trying to carry out High Commander Chxarals' orders to exterminate the populace if the system were about to fall. He knew that his people would do everything they could to prevent needless deaths... and he hoped it would be enough to salve his conscience when the full consequences of the rebellion came to light.
As the shuttle docked with Bellorum Station, Demetrius took a deep breath. Twelve hours, he thought, this will all be settled in just twelve more hours.
***
“My forces will arrive at the target in ten hours,” High Commander Chxarals said. “Fleet Commander Fhxud will command force two and Fleet Commander Thxanal will command force three, while I will retain command of force one, with Fleet Commander Fxark and Jxush controlling elements of it.”
Kral watched with interest as the High Commander laid out his battle plan. The three force arrangement was a good balance between the standard phalanx formation and a more mobile force like that of Nova Roma. High Commander Chxarals' Force One would have some three hundred of the 5-class dreadnoughts with over eighteen hundred of the 10-class cruisers to screen them. Kral didn't miss how Chxarals had arranged his formation to drive through the larger openings in the Periclium Debris Cloud, with Force One utilizing the largest of the assault corridors.
Force Two and Three were identical, with two hundred dreadnoughts and six hundred cruisers each. Although their screens were doctrinally lighter than they should be, their formations were designed to operate with ships in close proximity, which meant the dreadnoughts would need fewer cruisers in their screen. The 10-class cruisers with their massively oversized defense screens would f
orm a protective barrier that would allow the dreadnoughts to freely engage the enemy... especially since both flanking forces were expected to face lighter ships.
The dense debris cloud would be an issue for all of the ships, though. High Commander Chxarals addressed that even as Kral noticed, “In order to mitigate damage from debris and expended munitions as well as emplaced mines, all three forces will drop to no more than one thousand trel per juhn relative velocity to the debris field. Each force will proceed with active radar and will engage and destroy any debris of dangerous size as well as any possible munitions in order to clear their assault corridors.”
“High Commander,” Fleet Commander Thxanal asked, “will that not give the humans time to escape?” It was a valid question, though Kral thought a better question was whether that made them more vulnerable to enemy attack.
“I believe that they will hesitate to abandon their facility,” High Commander Chxarals said. “In case of an enemy counterattack, each force will act as a mobile reserve for the other forces. In case of attack by the enemy on Force Three, Force One will move to assault the enemy flank and destroy them, while Force Two will move up to destroy the enemy base. In case of attack on Two, One will move to support while Three will assault the base.”
Kral nodded at that, it was a well thought out plan... given the force expectations that Chxarals operated under. Kral had not been able to receive an update from Baron Giovanni, but he thought it likely that the Baron would be able to engage all three forces at once with the combined firepower of the Dreyfus Fleet and the Nova Roma Imperial Fleet. In that case, it would be quite possible for him to overwhelm all three forces individually before they could coordinate a counterattack.
“What about the human mining station at Sector Trel?” Kral asked dutifully.
“The human prisoner confirmed that the station is part of the smuggling apparatus,” High Commander Chxarals said. “Therefore, it will be destroyed. However, until we have cleared out the human infestation in the debris could, we will leave the mining station intact. It will offer us a location to stage our damaged ships and conduct repairs. After we have completed the destruction of the human forces, we will destroy the mining station and execute its crews for treason against the Chxor Empire.”
“Understood,” Fleet Commander Fhxud said. As the commander of Force Two, his forces would pass the closest to the mining station and he was the one who would probably have the best opportunity to destroy it. The hairless Fhxud appeared to be one of the genetically engineered castes, which was unusual in senior military ranks. Even so, in personality, he seemed the typical Chxor officer, with neither enthusiasm nor displeasure at the chance to kill more humans.
Kral had felt some temptation to feel out some of the other senior officers, yet he had restrained that urge. While he was certain he could do so without revealing his own motivations, he could not risk the system's survival upon that. While turning another of Chxarals' senior officers would be highly beneficial, if Kral were caught, the consequences would be far more drastic. Besides, Chxarals’ fleet was unique in that its crews were entirely made up of Chxor. Not one human or other alien had been drafted aboard those ships. The crews were fanatically loyal to the Benevolence Council, many of them designed from birth to fight and die for the Chxor Empire.
“Fleet Commander Chxum will retain command of the forces at New Umbria while Fleet Commander Kral will command Nova Roma's forces in my absence.” High Commander Chxarals looked around at his officers, “I want a full readiness report on every ship in your forces as well as a draft of your orders and contingency orders before we depart.” High Commander Chxarals paused a moment, “For the glory of the Chxor.”
“For the glory of the Chxor,” they echoed. Though that doesn't mean what you think it means, Kral thought with no small amount of humor. Soon his people would be able to reach their true potential... thanks to Kral's human allies. My one regret, he thought, is that High Commander Chxarals won't ever understand the humor in that.
***
Lucius paused outside the engine room and gave a sigh as he heard Rory's voice.
“No, no, no,” Rory said, “are you insane? You might as well put a gun to my head and shoot me. Go ahead, do it!”
Feliks replied in a long-suffering tone, “I was only trying to calibrate the power plant output, based upon our earlier model...”
“That is our old model for a reason, Feliks,” Rory said. “We have the new engine output model for a reason... because it far more closely maps the Balor power plant energy output. If you want to kill us all because of a random power spike, by all means, use the old model... otherwise, why don't you put our hard work to use.”
“The new model is less accurate,” Feliks said.
“Excuse me,” Lucius spoke as he stepped into the engine room. Like everything on the Balor ship, the room had some human wiring tacked onto the bulkheads to provide power for lighting. The tangle of alien technology around the massive, angular reactor was broken up by a set of human engineering consoles, spliced into the Balor controls and crammed in the little bit of free space.
“How can you say the new model is less accurate?” Rory demanded, completely ignoring Lucius's presence. “I put seven hours into those calculations.”
“You didn't consider the full metrics of the polarity shift between the two nodes!” Feliks waved his hands in the air.
“I would have if you had told me about them!” Rory shouted right back.
Lucius just sighed and turned away.
“How could I tell you about them when you never, ever listen to anything I have to say...”
Forward weapons, Lucius thought, the forward weapons control is the furthest point away from these two that I can get right now.
***
Tommy waited patiently while Lauren adjusted the lighting downward. He understood why she felt self-conscious about her appearance. Most human worlds looked on cybernetics with some discomfort. Prosthetic limbs had long been a solution for large injuries, but on most worlds, biological replacement had become the preference, either with cloned or donor parts.
Those who did violate the taboos generally tried to use the most unobtrusive cybernetics. Neuro implant computers, subdermal weapons, or even musculo-skeletal reinforcement. Most commonly the people who did those kinds of 'upgrades' were on the shadier side of the law... which only reinforced the distaste with which most people viewed cybernetics.
A small, militant part of society still seemed to feel that mechanical upgrades were the future of humanity... but they tended to lose most other people when they started lopping perfectly good parts of themselves in order to attach bizarre improvements.
Tommy hadn't thought that Lauren had a preference one way or the other... but she hadn't had much say in what happened to her. Her hair had started to regrow and cover the neural connections over her scalp. The wiring in her shoulder and side could both be covered by clothing. Yet he knew that only hid her changes from others, not from herself.
Tommy could see her wince as she shifted and the connections inside her body pulled against her flesh. Lucius's doctors and even Kandergain had looked her over and all of them had marveled that she had survived the entire process. From what Tommy understood, the Kraken's connections had wound their way deep inside her body and connected to a number of her internal organs and nerve clusters. “How are you doing?” Tommy asked.
She gave him a level look, “Oh, I'm just great, you?”
Tommy sighed, “You know, I said I'm sorry already.”
“I don't want pity, I don't want apologies,” Lauren growled. She gave a sigh, “I want to be... normal.” She looked down at her hands and he could see her eyes trace the wires that ran under her skin to the very tips of her fingers. “I've had access to a lot of the ship's systems and files... Mason, this isn't how it was supposed to work, not for its original crew, anyway.”
“What?” Tommy asked. Despite his insistence that Mason McGann w
as dead, she continued to call him by that name. It was almost as if she didn't see the changes in him. Or maybe she just doesn't want to see those changes, he thought.
“The neural link is supposed to be superficial, a single set of wires and connections, not whatever this is,” she waved a hand at herself. “I've talked with the ship, too, and it doesn't seem... well, it doesn't seem sane.”
Tommy quirked a smile at her, “Are any of us, really?”
“I'm serious, Mason,” Lauren said. “It can barely recognize the concept of friend or ally. It approaches every situation as hostile and just while we've been sitting here I've had to prevent it from engaging the Baron's forces three times.”
Tommy's eyebrows shot up at that. “It's that twitchy?”
“Twitchy implies that it wouldn't follow through,” Lauren said. “And during that battle with Admiral Mannetti... well, let’s just say that it was everything I could do once it got moving to prevent it from going after everyone else. This ship is alive, Mason, and it has a will of its own... but that will is only to fight.”
Tommy gave her a gentler smile, “Sounds like someone I know, then.”
Lauren shook her head and tears welled up in her eyes, “That's so true that it hurts.”
Mason had stood and moved to embrace her even before she finished speaking. He felt her go stiff in his arms and he could feel the wires and conduits inside her flesh as he held her. She relaxed after a long moment and spoke, her voice filled with despair. “Look at me, Mason. I'm a freak. Tied into a mad warship, there's nothing for me, now, nothing but war. I can never have anything else, a life, a family... I can't even live away from this damned ship.”
“You don't know that,” Mason said.
She shook her head, “The Baron's engineers confirmed it. Most of this... stuff, is biomechanical, it is living technology, tied into the ship. Without the ship, it would cease to function and with how closely tied it is to all of me...” She trailed off and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Damn me, Mason, I wish I had died at that base.”