by P. C. Haring
The Remali cruisers finished off the remains of their Ralgon equivalents and turned to retreat. The Lorencha, and Valor finished off the second Ralgon heavy and turned to engage, with the Mjöllnir, the battleship form they had been escorting. The Ralgon bore down against the Lorencha, hitting home against her sensor array and life support systems. The Verasai flagship retreated and regrouped with its fleet to be escorted out of the battlefield. Amado and the Mjöllnir advanced, using their heavy weapons to draw attention to them while the Verasai regrouped and pulled out. Rashar turned to attack the last Ralgon Battleship and support the Mjöllnir. But before she could engage, the Ralgon opened fire, its harsh volley taking out the Valor’s weapons array. With no teeth and minimal defenses, Rashar was forced into a full retreat, leaving the Mjöllnir and the doomed Surahan to stand alone against the Ralgon battleship.
November 9, 2832
14:00
Mjöllnir - OpCom
AS AMADO ORDERED another volley of concentrated heavy weapons fire, the six cannons erupted and struck their target, slowing the advancing Ralgon battleship and buying the time for the Remali to get fully out of range. With the Mjöllnir isolated, her nearest allies too far away to properly support, the task of defense fell solely to the Mjöllnir and its weapons officer, Timin Aler, to keep the Ralgon back. Amado was too focused on the display in front of him as Schrider keyed a sequence into the console. After a few seconds a message popped up warning of a small, but noticeable power buildup in the charge coil system. With any luck, the engineering team would not see it.
“Mr. Aler,” the Captain commanded, “unload another volley into that battleship. Beat them back.”
As Aler acknowledged the order, Schrider altered the targeting subsystem, drawing the focus of the heavy cannons off target by little more than two degrees. At this range, it would be more than enough. He fired and reported the result.”
“Missed, Captain. Target is un-damaged. Looks like the firing solution failed.”
“Find me another one, fast, Lieutenant Commander.”
“Aye!”
Schrider watched as the countdown screen ticked off the last few seconds. Now, it wouldn’t matter what the firing solution said.
“Ready, Captain!”
“Again, Mr. Aler!”
The weapons officer pressed the fire button, but instead of unleashing hell, the Mjöllnir shuddered as the coils overloaded and shorted themselves out in a cascading failure. The errors appeared simultaneously on his screen, Melor’s screen, and the main display, all showing the systems failure in the main cannons. Looking up from the tactical station, Agent Schrider watched, with some perverse pleasure, as the Captain’s face went from confident determination, to horror as his mighty battleship stood defenseless against the Ralgon.
November 9, 2832
14:02
Mjöllnir - OpCom
CODY AMADO CURSED as the reports came in. The main cannons were down for the count, leaving the ship to stand effectively defenseless against the advancing battleship. While the rail positions were still online, they would cause insufficient damage to the ship to destroy it before the Mjöllnir herself suffered catastrophic damage.
As if sensing this shift in the tactical advantage, the Ralgon cruiser bore down harder than before, pummeling the Mjöllnir in a full volley. The rough treatment threw the deck into chaos as Cassie was thrown to the ground, landing hard on her right shoulder. She screamed in pain as the joint dislocated. Cody could not focus on that as he was too busy trying to stop the blood from forcing his left eye closed. With no time to wait for a medic, he tore the sleeve off his uniform, folded it up and pressed it against the head wound as he turned back to the holographic display.
What had been a full battlefield was now little more than a desolate wasteland of debris. The Remali and Verasai were all well out of range. The Mjöllnir, Surahan, and the Ralgon cruiser were all that remained. Soon not even the station would be around as its own cascading failures continued to rip it apart.
The lightbulb in his bleeding head lit up as the way out presented itself.
“Hard about one-eighty, we’re withdrawing!”
The ship lurched end over end, turning its rear to the Ralgon which, as expected, pursued.
“Slow to three quarters...let it close on us. Trim our course fifteen degrees to the port side of Surahan’s central axis.”
The Ralgon drew closer, closing the distance behind the Mjöllnir. The Ralgon opened fire, but interference from the engine exhaust prevented any real accuracy, so only precious few attacks connected. Amado held his place as the Mjöllnir continued to bear down on the station. Proximity alarms fired anew as the navigational computer projected the ship’s starboard wing would be unable to clear the station as the Mjöllnir passed.
“Hold your course,” Amado coaxed. “Steady. Maintain speed.”
His voice trailed off as he waited for the moment. He keyed a series of instructions to his pilot, with orders not to execute until he gave the word. Behind them, the Ralgon continued to close in from behind, as the Mjöllnir continued to close on Surahan. Alarms grew more insistent, the crew more apprehensive.
“Now!”
The deck lurched beneath them and the hull creaked with inertial stress as the pilot executed the Captain’s written instruction. The ship rolled ninety degrees hard to port, clearing Mjöllnir's starboard wing from the station by mere meters.
The Ralgon cruiser was not so lucky.
Having closed the range so tightly, the Ralgon had neither the time nor the maneuverability to avoid the collision. That they had not seen through the ruse might have been a concern, but perhaps they felt they could fly through the combined explosion of the Mjöllnir and the station. Instead, they became the fireball.
The wider body of the Ralgon cruiser caught the station’s central section. Weak though the station’s hull was, enough resilience remained to rip through the Ralgon hull as it impaled itself into the station and lodged. The abuse to the station did little good as the power cascade reached a critical point and blew.
The station erupted into a ball of fire and debris that ripped into the Ralgon vessel, blowing it apart in a second, larger, explosion. The combined shock-wave raced outward in all directions, chasing down the Mjöllnir as she accelerated to her flank speeds in effort to escape. But it proved futile as the wave overtook the ship, throwing it into another series of violent lurches. Cassie had not even tried to return to her feet and rolled into the central display but Cody, already light-headed from the blood loss, could not avoid another fall. He came down on the deck plating head first, splitting his scalp open with another wide, bloody gash.
The world fell down around him as his perceptions slowed as though under water. He pushed himself back up but his arms gave way and he slumped to the deck. Turned to check on his sister. She was down for the count as well. Who would that leave in command? Aler? Yes, it had to be Aler. His eye blinked again and the tactical officer was leaning over him.
“Captain...are you okay?”
The words hit his ears slow and slurred and Amado could feel his strength ebbing as he fought to remain awake. They had come so far in such a little time. Artez had been the tip of the iceberg and now the Ralgon were back in force and that thing, that Leviathan that had destroyed Artez was somehow related. He pushed against the deck again trying to get up, to issue orders, but again his strength failed him and he fell back to the deck.
“Aler...”
The officer leaned over him and Cody stretched his bloody hand up and grabbed Aler’s uniform, pulling him down.
“I’m here, Captain.”
Again, the words were slow and slurred.
“Get...us...home. Warn them...prepare them...the Ralgon are...back...”
Aler leaned in closer as Amado’s voice failed him.
“Yes, Captain, we are...”
Cody Amado heard the words but in the haze, he could not grasp their true context. His strength gave wa
y and he let the abyss take him, knowing he left his ship in capable hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
November 12, 2832
19:00
Mjöllnir - Med Deck
SCHRIDER STOOD at the foot of Cody Amado’s bed and watched the human sleep. His sister lay in the bed next to him, also unconscious. The nurse had tried to explain the nature of their injuries but Schrider did not care. All that mattered was that their treatment protocol meant they would be heavily sedated for at least a week. It would have been too easy if they had both been killed in the battle. Were it not for the nurse in the room right now, Schrider might have tried to suffocate one or the other with their own pillows. But that would draw too much attention.
Prime had not accounted for this in the calculations, and with both the Amados removed from the equation, new possibilities and variables had entered into the computation. Schrider had attempted to commune this information to Prime, but Ares had been temporarily re-tasked and without that, there remained no viable option. For now, Schrider was alone. The attack at Surahan had been calculated: with all three weakened from the battle, the Ralgon phalanx would have been able to crush them and eliminate the threat of an allied front forever. Prime had been so confident in the statistics that it had chosen not to lead the attack directly. But Prime had been wrong. Not only had the attack failed to destroy the enemy, it had seemed to only unify them further, to a point.
Already the Verasai had withdrawn from the fleet, leaving the Remali and the Mjöllnir to their own devices. As usual, Verasai losses had been significant and the Regent felt the need to retreat to lick wounds. For now, the Mjöllnir, still had Remali refugees onboard and as a result their General insisted they stay close to the traveling convoy of Remali. Much of the Alliance crew had expressed interest in returning home, but for the moment that was not possible. So much the better.
More time exposing the Alliance and the Remali to one another would prove in Schrider’s favor as it afforded more time to complete the objective. Already, the agent had considered, and rejected, several options. Sabotaging the ship’s power system would effectively eliminate the threat of the Mjöllnir, but it would do nothing to alienate the Alliance from the Remali. Even the loss of the refugees would be deemed tragic, but not an overt act. Similarly, the Agent rejected sabotaging the navigational systems on the ship to force a collision. While the sabotage of the main cannons had proved quite effective, any further sabotage of the weapon systems would be quickly discovered.
No. If relations between the Alliance and the Remali were to be permanently destroyed, then the sabotage would have to be diplomatic, not mechanical. Fortunately, with the sidelining of the Amado siblings, Schrider now had the perfect window of opportunity, one that would last only as long as both remained under medical care. Doctor Fen had reported that both would be out for the foreseeable future which gave Schrider some flexibility.
With the false platitude of a depressed sigh, Schrider stepped away from the beds and exited the long-term care ward, intent on returning to Op-Com.
The crew regarded him as any other officer, none of them the wiser to the truth. Soon enough, though, they would know. They would all know.
Turning a corner, he almost bumped into someone.
“Excuse me, Sir!”
Schrider stepped out of the way and for the first time, realized he had almost knocked over Colonel Labonne. He almost didn’t recognize her without her flight suit.
“My apologies, Colonel. May I say you’re looking rather festive.”
Labonne graced him with a smile before turning in place, showing off the black party dress.
“Thank you!”
“I take it you’re settling up the bet between you and Valeer?”
She gave a knowing nod. “Oh yeah… The Gryphon’s kicked ass.”
“As it should be. Carry on.”
Schrider continued on his way. This camaraderie between the two squadrons would have to be quashed as well.
“Lieutenant Commander!”
Schrider turned at the call to the alias. Vivine Melor shuffled towards him, a tablet in one of her hands. “Glad I caught you, Aler. Where are you heading?”
“Op-Com,” Schrider replied.
“Same. Mind if I walk with you?”
He shook the host’s head, forcing himself to adopt the lie. For the time being, as long as he was in command of the ship, Schrider would have to accept that privacy would be a thing of the past.
“Here’s the repair schedule.”
She offered him the tablet as they stepped on to the tram car, and Schrider made a show of accepting it and reading it, not that he cared what it said. He continued his show of reading it while they rode the lift to the terminal near Op-Com and when the doors parted to facilitate their exit, he seized on the only opening he cared to exploit.
“Why do you need so much time on this schedule? I thought our damage was light.”
“It was, sir.” Melor responded. “However, given the space issues we have with the refugees, I allowed more time to get the work done.”
How nice of the damned Remali to give him the perfect wedge.
“I want these repairs complete as soon as possible. Contact Rashar and tell her to get her damned people off this ship. She’s got a day to make arrangements.”
Melor blinked. “Sir, with all due respect, is that reasonable?”
He stopped and turned, blocking Melor from entering Op-Com. “I don’t give a damn what’s reasonable. These people are crowding the decks. Their very presence is interfering with ship’s operation and we need to get back to Alliance territory. I can’t do that with thousands of Remali on board now, can I?”
Melor swallowed. “No, sir.”
“Good. You have your orders”
“Aye, sir.”
He stepped aside, allowing the engineer to pass. She entered Op-Com and Schrider followed. He passed his normal station at tactical, and took his place at the front projector. He had already laid the groundwork with Melor. Rashar would not like his message and tension would start to build. After a day or two, he would instruct Labonne to push their combat patrol perimeter out, closer to the Remali ships. That would put them on edge even more. It would take time to do this subtly, but the fragile alliance between the Remali and the Alliance would crumble. When it did, when it disappeared like so much dust, nothing would stand in the way of Prime and the return of the Ralgon phalanx.
All would be consumed.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It’s amazing how much can change over time. The last time I sat down to write acknowledgements was far longer than I’d care to admit, and as I look back on everything that’s gone on it’s almost impossible to believe I’m the same individual. So much has changed.
But what has not changed, what has remained consistent day in and day out, is just as impressive. When I last wrote acknowledgments, I spoke about the community it takes to make this ‘solitary process’ come to fruition. That has not changed and, in fact, the community has grown.
First and foremost, I thank you, the reader. Without you I am just typing words on a page. It is your reaction, enjoyment, and experience of the story that makes this process truly complete. Again, I thank you for allowing me to share this adventure with you.
I find myself ever more grateful and reliant on my beta readers. It is not easy to chew through an excessively long early draft of a novel and still be able to provide constructive feedback or to noodle through a dozen half-baked ideas looking for the one that snaps into place. Your notes and feedback have been invaluable.
I owe much to my primary brainstorming crew: Jeremy Ellis, Veronica Giguere, and Stephen Kempf. Jeremy has proven himself indispensable as a scientific mind and given me great insight into how to make the extra-terrestrial species and planets an interesting and diverse aspect of this universe. Veronica’s ability to dissect characterization and dialogue has been an absolute jewel. Her feedback influenced the story arcs of m
y characters and how they participate in the grander scheme of the plot as a whole. Steven’s influence in this story may not be as apparent, as we are not in a visual media. But had this hit the television you would be seeing his influences in the design and function of the ships, stations, and vehicles that appear in this universe. It’s been absolutely fantastic working with all three of these fine folks, and I am ever so grateful they are willing to put up with me and help make my craft stronger.
Over the past few years of writing, I have come to one inescapable conclusion: I put my editors through hell. Slipspace Harbinger was no exception and I would like to thank my editor for all of her blood sweat, tears, and grumpy cat images as she worked to make this project even better than I knew it could be. As usual, she got way more than she bargained for, but her insights have been indispensable, and I am lucky to have been able to work with her on this project.
The layout and design team delivered another amazing job. Between the cover art work of Starla Hutchton, the print layout by Tee Morris, and the electronic layout by Philippa Ballantine, this highly talented trio produced an amazing design to house these words. Each are authors in their own right, professionals whose work I respect and admire. I am fortunate and blessed to call them colleagues, mentors, and friends.
Without the support of my parents and extended family, I would never have been brave enough to start down this path in the first place. Thank you for daring me to imagine, for challenging me to expand my horizons and push my comfort zones. This has often been a difficult process but your love and support has made it that much easier
And finally, this book would not exist without the love, support and encouragement of my beautiful wife, Jen. She has been unwavering in her support of not only this project, but my writing career since the day we met. It has been your encouragement, patience, support, and yes, insistence, that has kept me on this path when the obstacles seemed too large to hurdle. Without you, I am unsure as to whether this project would ever have seen daylight. You are my better half, and you make me want to be a better person than I am. I’m still not sure why you agreed to marry me, but I love you and am honored to call you my wife.