Quickly leaving the room, Adam was joined by his two bodyguards. They walked silently to the nearest tube to take him to where his personal yacht would meet him after Britannia Jumped, his mind already turning back to Karen and how they would celebrate being back together again.
In the end, Adam had longer to wait than he had anticipated, for Admiral Frith had taken the unscheduled Jump to Capital as a chance to resupply and take on additional crew. As a result, the hanger he had chosen was already packed with servitors and crew by the time he arrived, the Jump having taken place while in the tube. Checking with Vimes, he confirmed his yacht was already in orbit and closing with Britannia, so he decided to pass the time by talking to some of those around him.
The yacht finally docked, Adam dismissed his bodyguards and made his way through the docking tube. He sank down into his command chair, and began the merge, Adam’s already good mood lifted further at finally being able to do something.
Vimes plotted the quickest flight path for him and made the necessary clearances with Orbital Control. Adam received confirmation and quickly began his descent to the planet, preferring to fly himself rather than let Vimes have all the fun. His small yacht blasted away from Britannia as if it too was eager to reach the planet’s embrace. Entering the atmosphere at a steep angle, the viewscreen dimmed as the air turned into white-hot plasma on the forward shields as they began to bleed off velocity to match with the planet. The buffeting increased, making Adam glad of the seat restraints, then began to recede as relative velocities were matched, finally vanishing altogether as the yacht broke through the high cloud cover and into the clear skies below.
Ahead, Adam could see the Palace's Imperial spaceport, a large circular scar in the surrounding woodland. Feeling his anticipation rise, Adam deciding to have some fun and came in far faster than normal, ignoring the automated alerts and warnings, knowing exactly what he was doing. With the spaceport rapidly filling all of the viewscreen, Adam pulled the yacht’s nose up and braked hard, loading it with seven-G of deceleration, finally to touch down in a cloud of dust and small debris only one hundred yards from the closest transit-tube.
Adam ran down the newly-formed steps and across to the entrance tube, mentally instructing his welcoming committee of Marines and Palace dignitaries to disperse and return to their duties, warning he didn’t want to be disturbed until further notice. In his mind, Vimes quietly chided him but smoothed the officials’ ruffled feathers with his usual diplomacy, rescheduling meetings for the following day, giving his charge plenty of time to reacquaint himself with his love.
Karen wasn’t waiting for him at the Palace tube entrance, which left him mildly surprised, but Vimes reassured Adam she was in their shared quarters. Heading there, he found himself being stopped by many of the Palace staff wanting to pay their respects and give condolences for his mother. Biting back his frustration, Adam forced himself to stop and engage, thanking them for their kind words and engaged in small talk with them. Painful as it was for him to hear, some wanted to share stories with him of their dealings with Christine, and despite wanting to get away, Adam found himself becoming deeply touched by their genuine concern and love for his mother.
Chaffing at the slow progress, he eventually entered his family’s private area where the staff were more circumspect, mostly just nodding as he passed them on his way to where Karen was waiting. As he neared the main door to their suite of rooms, Adam’s pace slowed, and he almost began shaking with the tension. He stopped at the door, but before he could instruct it to open, Karen beat him to it and leapt into his arms, almost knocking him off balance with the force of her impact.
Without conscious thought, their minds began to link and they tumbled back through the doorway and into the suite. Adam lifted her into his arms and carried Karen into their bedroom, both of them oblivious to anything other than each other.
“Adam?” Karen began to speak, the first words either of them had spoken for a while, at the same time stroking his head, her fingers ruffling through the thick curls.
He said nothing and continued looking at her face, acknowledging his name by raising eyebrows, not wanting to break the moment. When she said nothing further, he asked, “What is it?” the words coming from deep in his chest, low pitched. Karen could feel the vibrations from his voice through the bed.
“I’m pregnant, and we are having a baby,” she finally managed to say, the words now coming out in a rush, “I’ve confirmed it, and it’s healthy, and I really want to keep it, and I love you so much. Don’t be annoyed with me, please.”
Adam said nothing, but his eyes widened at the unexpected news.
“You silly woman. What reason would I have to be angry with you…you daft thing?” He took the hand stroking his head and kissed it, moving to press himself onto her again, kissing hard to stifle any more words, opening his mind as he did so she could see exactly what he was feeling. She responded, her heart and spirit soaring again as the weight of not knowing how he would react suddenly lifted.
For a while, nothing else mattered, and little coherent thought was possible for either of them, but eventually, they were able to relax and take stock.
“How long have you known?” Adam asked her, at the same time trying to think back for any clues. “Was this why you were avoiding my messages?”
“Yes, it was. Foolishly, I was worried how you would take the news. I’m sorry I ever doubted your reaction. I love you so much. As to when, it was Freya who first told me. She detected my changing hormone levels even before I knew I was pregnant; right after Christine was…”
Karen stopped talking, her chin began trembling, and she reached out to hold Adam, another dam of emotion breaking inside, now no longer trying to be brave or holding anything back.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t save her… I tried but he was too quick, and I wasn’t fast enough and I, I..couldn’t…”
Adam held her tight, placing his head next to hers and cradling her in his arms.
“I know, I know. Don’t blame yourself. You tried your best. I know, darling, I know.” Adam started crying himself, his eyes suddenly feeling hot and raw. He too let go of his feelings, like Karen’s so long repressed.
Wrapped around each other and finally free to let go of their pain and grief, they both cried; freed from the need to maintain a strong front in front of anyone.
SCENE 23, FREDERICK’S PALACE, KIYAMI
Duke Frederick was in a foul mood, having received updated reports confirming three key star systems remained cut off following attacks from Imperial forces. That they remained destabilised days after they should have returned to normal more than hinted that bad news would be all he would hear, for it looked as if they were being kept deliberately closed to stop him from reinforcing his forces and deny him intelligence.
To make matters worse, more and more system loyal to him were being forced to impose martial law, for civil unrest had begun rising to dangerous levels. Despite his control over all sources of news, the subversive actions of those damnably well-informed insurgents in spreading counter information was slowly, but surely, eroding away at his power base. The harder he tightened his grip, the more believable the insurgent's stories became. Unless he could decisively defeat Alexander and break the Imperial Navy’s moral, the whole rebellion was in danger.
Worried about being able to retain the loyalty of his Marines, Frederick had replaced those not part of the rebellion with mercenaries from other human empires who had thrown in their lot with him in the hope of territory, riches and access to Jump Points on the other side of Imperial space.
Always fearing an attack on Kiyami, Frederick had reinforced the home fleet protecting the Jump Station, tripling the number of anti-matter mines seeded through the Jump Point and placing his most modern battleships where they could do the most damage to anything Alexander, Gallagher or Frith could bring to bear through the Point. His best strategists assured him the Jump Point wasn’t large enough to accommodate suffic
ient ships to allow Alexander’s forces to bring enough firepower through in one go strong enough to withstand his initial attack. By the time any survivors managed to move away and allow more to Jump through, they would have been fatally wounded as a coherent fighting force.
“Let them spend themselves against my defences here,” he thought to himself, rising from behind his desk and heading for his meeting with representatives from the merchant guilds to discuss revised Customs charges. “Nothing can get past the Jump Station and my orbital defences are more than capable of dealing with any that survive being harried on the way here.” Despite his confidence in these defences, a small but nagging part of his mind kept making him think he had missed something important.
Hidden servitors came out from behind niches in the wall and began to dress him in full Court regalia, a purple cloak replacing the lightly padded jacket he preferred wearing when alone. Satisfied he looked sufficiently imposing, Frederick picked up his heavily armoured bodyguard from outside the room and began the short walk to the meeting hall. He paid no attention to the Courtiers and Palace servants who bowed as he passed by, instead, Frederick began going through the increased tariffs and how much additional revenue would be required in taxation to offset the drain on his treasury.
Approaching the meeting room, Frederick checked the time. “An hour kept waiting should be sufficient time to have them suitably nervous and malleable,” he thought, waiting for the Imperial fanfare to finish before making his entrance onto the stage. Inside the large and impressively decorated room, all the guild members were set out in rows, strategically placed at a height disadvantage so they all had to look up to where he would sit. Six of the armoured Marines took station, three on each side, their faces obscured by helmets and weapon systems clearly on display.
At this display of naked intimidation, many of the merchants, themselves used to hard bargaining, and strong tactics, began to shift uncomfortably in their seats, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but here. Frederick sat down and motioned for the others to follow suit. Enjoying their discomfort, Frederick began to speak, but before he could utter a word, alarms rang loudly in the room.
Stunned at the unexpected and unwelcome development, Frederick stood up, his bodyguards closing around, weapons armed and pointing around the room. A few of the merchants stood up, only to rapidly sit down again when weapons were pointed at them.
Before Frederick could interrogate the palace AI for details, more Marines burst onto the stage and began ushering Frederick away. Too shocked to resist, he let himself be led to a transit tube where he was unceremoniously bundled inside. It accelerated sharply, forcing Frederick back into his seat, where restraints snaked around his body and that of the four bodyguards pressed in with him.
“The Palace is under attack, Sire, with multiple unidentified transports disgorging enemy Marines across key areas of the planet, including the Palace,” the Palace AI’s voice frustratingly calm as it began updating him on the impossible news.
“Why wasn’t I…where did they come from…how did they get past the Jump Point defences?” Frederick blustered, unable to understand what was happening as his body reacted to an adrenaline surge and his fine motor control began to switch off.
“Unknown. Multiple explosions reported from orbital weapon platforms and our remaining ships in orbit are engaging. I am directing you to the emergency bunker where your Heads of Staff are assembling. Please follow instructions from the Marines when we arrive. For brevity, switching to non-verbal communication.” Immediately, data came straight to Frederick’s visual and auditory cortex, enabling him to assimilate information at a far higher rate, his implant automatically assessing and storing into his long or short-term memory as required. As the information flooded into his mind, Frederick began to realise with a sickening clarity that for all his scheming and plotting, Alexander had somehow managed to best him.
High in orbit around Kiyami, the fleets of Duke Gallagher and Alexander Jumped into existence and instantly began firing on the orbital weapon platforms. From almost one-hundred-thousand warships, railgun slugs blasted as one, firing at almost point-blank range, within seconds destroying eighty percent of the platforms into fragments, completely overwhelming their powered down wall shields in an instant. The remaining five, whose shields had been sufficiently hardened to provide a brief breathing space, were already radiating high into the violet from the constant bombardment. Slugs, particle beams and missiles exploded against their rapidly weakening shields. Too close for the Platforms to effectively deploy their point defences, the attacking ships were almost touching shields, theirs glowing yellow just from the reflected energies of their own attack. Where the furious energies were already breaking through in places, metres of armour and hull simply disappeared into incandescent gas and plasma.
For those rebels manning the weapon platforms, no thought of surrender or quarter was contemplated, both Alexander and Admiral Frith reasoning that Frederick would have made sure they were crewed with only the most fanatically loyal to his cause. Both watched the incredibly short, but furious and very one-sided engagement until the last surviving platform’s shields collapsed, leaving it naked against the ravening energies directed against it from literally thousands of Imperial battleships. Within seconds the platform was vaporised, leaving nothing but a rapidly expanding ball of ionised gas and plasma to mark its location.
Satisfied the once formidable and impregnable platforms were no longer a threat, Frith turned her attention to where her Weapon Masters were taking out the ground-based defences with surgical precision. Alexander joined her, and together they watched as tight beams of energy lanced down through the atmosphere, destroying shield generators and ground-based weapons, launching sites and barracks where Vimes’s hidden sensor probes had identified strongholds of Frederick’s supporters. Where there was reasonable doubt as to their treason and culpability, to minimise casualties, more care was taken, and the targets were disabled rather than destroyed.
Alexander patted his friend and Admiral on her left shoulder. She turned to look at him, a worried expression on her face as she realised he meant to go through with the final part of his plan.
“Sire, are you certain this is a wise move? Again, as both your Admiral and as a friend, please desist from doing this thing.” Her peripheral vision saw his suit begin to draw additional material from the deck and begin to bulk, in itself an answer to her question.
“No, Janice, I need to be down there. Should anything happen to me, Adam is ready. Anyway, what sort of Emperor would I be if I let others do what I dare not? No, I have to be down there with my Marines when we take Frederick’s Palace. I know it is a cliché, but he and I have a score to settle.” Alexander returned her concerned gaze with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, “Have a little faith.”
Realising nothing she could say would change his mind, Frith nodded, “Better be going then, the landing shuttles have already started leaving and yours is scheduled in five minutes. You can finish bulking your suit on the way to it. That other idiot, Gallagher, went down with the first wave, so you are already playing catch-up. Be off with you.” With that, Frith made a point of turning away and walked over to the science station, desperately worried for her friend but knowing it pointless to argue with him anymore.
Understanding this uncharacteristic rudeness was a sign of her concern for him, Alexander watched her retreating back for a second, warmed by her friendship, then spun around and headed for the exit and nearest transit tube, picking up the dozen armoured bodyguards who had been waiting patiently for him.
On reaching the hanger bay, Alexander’s suit was fully formed, and without any fanfare, he picked up the remainder of the cohort assigned to him, walking out into the hard vacuum of the bay and across to their designated shuttle. Far larger than the one Gallagher had used back on Heaven, this was heavily armoured and defended, almost a mini-battleship in its power. Dozens were lined up, their doors already sealed and a
waiting the launch signal.
Settling himself into a docking station, Alexander let the suit’s AI draw power from the shuttle, ensuring every last gigawatt of power was stored. He tapped into the communication battle-net currently blanketing the planet, enabling every Marine to keep in contact and build a complete picture of the battlefield, searching for his old friend. Just as he got through, his shuttle lifted with all the others and accelerated hard out of the hanger bay, joining the unseen thousands already heading down through the atmosphere, fully cloaked and stealthed.
“I’m a bit busy at the moment, Alex,” came the response to Alexander’s call, accompanied by a grunt which Alexander correctly interpreted as his friend being in the middle of the fight and using his sword, “When will you be joining us?”
Unable to talk properly due to the high G-forces, Alexander could only reply mentally. “Vimes tells me five minutes. I’m heading for your position now. I want the entranceway clear by the time I get there. Think you can manage it or are you getting too old?”
Gallagher’s reply was unprintable, accompanied by several references to Alexander’s antecedents and ability to father children, making everyone on the shuttle laugh, for Alexander had made sure his conversation was on an open channel. As planned, he could sense the mood of his bodyguard lighten, as they enjoyed the banter of the two most eminent warriors in the Imperium. Cutting the connection, Alexander felt his teeth rattle in his head as the shuttle battered its way through the atmosphere. Despite being cloaked and shielded, the sheer speed and number of the shuttles as they descended down through the atmosphere meant their paths were clearly marked by fiery trails of ionised plasma, looking to any observer on the ground as if the sky was raining fire.
Using the battle-net to watch progress on the ground close to his target, Alexander let out an involuntary groan as the shuttle suddenly rocked to one side in a violent manoeuvre, then jinked back again onto its original path. Deciding he didn’t want to know the reason, Alexander resisted the temptation to check what caused the manoeuvre, preferring to remain in ignorance. The turnover warning sounded in everyone’s helmet moments before the shuttle began decelerating, their armour and docking cages holding everyone firmly in place against the reversed pressure.
Imperium: Coda: Book Three in the Imperium Trilogy Page 32