That was all gone now. Every station, habitat and industrial platform was debris now, along with the civilian shipping that had served them. The backdrop of a burning planet made the mess harder to sort out, but Harold’s people were good.
“There were two squadrons of escorts here,” Ling Yu finally concluded. “Ten attack cruisers, ten destroyers. It doesn’t look like they took any of the attackers with them.”
“Any sign of where the attackers went?” Harold asked.
“Possible someone else in the fleet has sorted it out, but I can’t,” she admitted. “Give me a bit more time and I think I can pick out where the Kanzi went, but the only way we’ll dig up the attackers is old light.”
“The Kanzi may have already done that for us,” he mused. “Tanaka’s scheduled a briefing shortly. We’ll see what the rest of the fleet has dug up. Do we have anything useful?”
His ops officer snorted.
“Nothing the rest of the fleet won’t have passed up the chain already. There isn’t much to see here, boss. Just another dead system—this one isn’t ours, but that doesn’t make it much less depressing.”
Harold nodded. He’d seen the aftermath of enough Kanzi slave raids that his opinion of the blue-furred bastards ranged between disgusted contempt and utter hatred. Five million dead sentients, however, was a tragedy no matter who they were.
“We need to find these people,” Harold said. “Find them and burn them to ashes.”
“Sir!” Xun Huang’s shout echoed through the flag bridge. “Warning signal from the outer system scouts—we have a hyper emergence!”
“Do we have an ID?” Harold snapped. “Is the tactical network up?”
“Not yet and yes,” Xun Huang reported. “Nahid?”
The Chinese-Iranian ops officer was already linking in to her systems.
“The Rimward Squadron is ready for action; no orders from the flag,” she reported.
“Hold off on Buckler drones for now, but bring all ships to battle stations,” Harold ordered. “Best case, we need the practice. Worst case…”
Worst case, the strangers were back. That seemed unlikely—the most likely scenario was…
“We have an ID,” Xun Huang barked. “It’s Dark Sun, Division Lord Peeah’s flagship.”
Somehow, Harold wasn’t surprised when the all-captains briefing was accelerated after Dark Sun’s arrival. Within twenty minutes of the destroyer making contact, Fleet Lord Tanaka had pulled every ship commander and flag officer into a single massive holographic briefing.
Few of the people in the briefing were in rooms together. Most were in their own offices, but the software linked them all into a single massive virtual table, automatically focusing on whoever was speaking at the moment.
“As we speak, movement orders are already being sent to all of your navigation departments,” Tanaka advised them all as the last present flicked on. “Division Lord Peeah has brought terrifying news: most importantly, units of his squadron have been shadowing Cawl’s fleet since they left Avida, and there is no doubt as to his destination now:
“Fleet Master Cawl has violated Imperial space and is en route to the Xīn Táiwān System.”
She grimaced.
“That is an act of war…but it’s one that we are also guilty of. I hesitate to prejudge the Fleet Master’s actions without more information. Nonetheless, we have no choice but to pursue. We have better charts of this region than he does, but that won’t be enough for us to beat him to Xīn Táiwān.
“We will arrive within thirty-six hours of the Kanzi. Depending on what we find, I intend to give Cawl one opportunity to explain himself and find a peaceful resolution. If his explanation is unsatisfactory, we will engage the Alstroda Fleet.”
“What about the strangers?” Harold asked before he could stop himself. That had…terrifying implications.
From Tanaka’s expression, she understood them as well.
“The most likely scenario I can see is that the Kanzi are pursuing the strangers who attacked Avida, in which case the survival of the colony at Xīn Táiwān is very much in danger. We are already moving as fast as we can, and I have instructed Captain Vong to meet us there.
“Bellerophon is closer, so I hope that she can arrive before Cawl. Her qualitative advantage, however, is unlikely to suffice to engage an entire Kanzi battle fleet. Vong’s orders are to observe and harass, and not to risk his ship.”
“What if the colony is in danger?” Tidikat asked, the Laian officer clearly willing to state what the rest of the Militia officers—almost all humans—couldn’t bring themselves to.
“His orders are not discretionary,” Tanaka said in a stony voice. “If I thought, for even one second, that Bellerophon could save Xīn Táiwān from the Kanzi fleet, I wouldn’t hesitate to risk Vong’s ship.
“Against that kind of numerical advantage, however, even Bellerophon cannot carry the day, and I will not permit Vong to sacrifice his vessel…however much I understand the urge to do so.
“Whatever will happen in Xīn Táiwān is no longer in our ability to prevent. We must make certain that we are in position to avenge it.”
No one had argued to leave a detachment behind to protect Xīn Táiwān. They’d been so confident they’d projected the enemy’s course, and the strangers had left Imperial space. They’d thought the system was safe.
That certainty might have cost Governor MacChruim and his people their lives.
Chapter Twenty-Five
They’d barely even left the hyperspace portal into Asimov before Captain Vong ordered the engines cut. He disappeared into his briefing room, leaving Masters in command of the ship while Morgan and Antonova traded confused glances.
“Any idea what’s going on?” Morgan asked the communications officer.
“Something came in on the hyperfold relay, maximum priority,” Antonova replied. “Imperial encryption, Captain’s-Eyes-Only.”
The tall blonde shook her head.
“We’ll find out soon enough, I suppose,” she allowed. “Speaking of finding out, what’s this I hear about you and Major Phelps?”
Morgan paused in astonishment.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard,” she admitted. Phelps and his blue eyes were definitely featuring in her thoughts of late, but he was hardly the only workplace crush Morgan was ignoring. Antonova’s own grace and lithe athleticism were a more regular problem for Morgan, if only because she tended to share a shift with the senior communications officer.
“Rumor has it that you and the good Major have been making googly eyes at each other at every opportunity,” Antonova replied. “At least a few folks have put pieces together and figured you were making time off-duty.”
Morgan chuckled.
“I don’t recall making obvious ‘googly eyes’ at anyone,” she replied. “Phelps is pretty, yes, but I haven’t had much of a chance to get to know the man. Listening to rumors will get you in trouble, Lieutenant Commander.”
The other woman chuckled.
“That they would. I mean, there are similar rumors about you and me!”
From the warmth in her ears and the way Antonova continued chuckling, Morgan was pretty sure she was blushing.
“Sorry, Morgan. I was just teasing,” the coms officer told her. “We all know better than to chase crushes on a warship; there’s only so many of us aboard. Phelps is dreamy, though.”
“That he is,” Morgan replied, latching onto a mostly safe observation. “You never know with Marines, though.”
“Captain on deck!” one of the Marines at the back of the bridge suddenly barked as Captain Vong strode onto the bridge, a grim look on his face.
“At ease,” he ordered before anyone finished rising. “Masters, I have the con.”
“You have the con,” the tactical officer agreed, crossing the bridge to his station between Morgan and Antonova.
The bridge was silent as everyone waited to see what the Captain had learned.
“Comma
nder Hume, set a maximum-velocity course for Xīn Táiwān,” he ordered quietly. “Use our sprint capacity as much as you can. We need to be there yesterday.”
Somehow, the silence deepened.
“Commander Antonova, make contact with Rear Admiral Sun,” he continued. “He is supposed to have deployed several units in that direction already. We’ll need their planned courses to make sure we catch up if we can. They should be his Thunderstorm-Ds, so we’ll be trailing them, but every extra launcher is going to count.”
He smiled sadly.
“Get me an all-hands channel first, Victoria,” Vong ordered. “Everyone needs to know what’s going on.”
Morgan swallowed, watching in silence as her friend gave the Captain a thumbs-up.
“All hands, all hands, this is the Captain speaking,” Vong said calmly. He easily projected his voice across the bridge, and Morgan knew the internal communications system would carry it to the rest of the ship.
“We have an update from Fleet Lord Tanaka. She has entered Kanzi space to challenge the maneuvers of their Alstroda Fleet.
“Unfortunately, she has not found the Alstroda Fleet and has instead found dead worlds and shattered space infrastructure, all too familiar to Seventy-Seventh Fleet now,” Vong told them grimly.
Morgan couldn’t help swearing under her breath, and she wasn’t the only one. A wrecked Kanzi world changed the nature of the game…a lot.
“Seventy-Seventh Fleet has also confirmed that Alstroda Fleet left Kanzi space several days ago, heading for the Xīn Táiwān System. We and the cruiser echelon that Admiral Sun deployed are the only ships that can potentially beat them there, so that is what we are going to do.”
The silence that spread through the ship now contained a frozen chill.
“The Fleet Lord suspects that the Kanzi are pursuing the same people who attacked Powell and Lelldorin, and the Xīn Táiwān System may be in danger. My orders are clear: I am not to risk Bellerophon in an unwinnable contest with an entire Kanzi battle fleet.
“If, however, I regard Bellerophon’s intervention…indeed, Bellerophon’s sacrifice as having the potential to save the fifty thousand civilians in that star system, I do not intend to obey those orders.
“We are already underway. Depending on the fates, we may either beat Fleet Master Cawl to Xīn Táiwān or we may arrive shortly after him. No matter, we will do our duty.”
By the time they reentered hyperspace, Morgan was done with her bridge shift and back in her office. It was hard to focus on the minutiae of her job with the Captain’s words hanging over her head, but she tried.
The email chain between her, Masters and about seven of the engineering officers over whether they’d be able to fabricate single-portal hyperspace missiles aboard Bellerophon kept dragging on. She’d already accepted the reality: they could make everything except the hyperdrives in their onboard machine shops, and the only real impediment to the hyperdrives was a lack of exotic matter.
The engineers, on the other hand, were still trying to brainstorm a solution. Morgan had already added a note to her file of “recommendations for the next generation of Bellerophons” to “include an exotic matter allowance in supplies.”
Being able to replace their own munitions was handy. It wasn’t essential, not when the Militia was never supposed to operate far from their bases and the Imperial Navy rarely deployed battleships without a fleet train, but it was useful.
Skimming through the details of the engineers’ suggestions had her blinking against exhaustion when her door buzzer sounded.
“Enter,” she said instantly. Any distraction was worth it right now!
She was surprised, however, to see Major Alexander Phelps step into her office. He wore an informal gray uniform and gave her a swift salute and a smile.
“How may I help you, Major?” she asked.
“I’m off duty,” he replied. “This isn’t actually a business visit. I can come back later if this is a bad time?”
Morgan sighed. Victoria Antonova, it seemed, wasn’t the only one listening to rumors. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about this.
“Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose,” she allowed. “What’s up, Major?”
“Please, call me Alexander,” he asked. “I was…wondering if you would be willing to join me for dinner in the officer’s mess.”
She considered, then gestured him to a seat.
“You realize that mixing work and emotions is a bad idea, yes?” she asked.
“Yup,” he agreed cheerfully. “On the other hand, I heard the Captain’s speech. Sounds like I might not get another chance—and it’s not like we’re in each other chains of command.”
“Even putting aside who my parents are,” Morgan said, “this would still be a bad idea. And even if it wasn’t…” She sighed and shook her head. If Antonova had presented this scenario to her, she’d have figured she’d leap at it, but the reality was different.
“I got dumped by email when I reported aboard Bellerophon, Alexander,” she told him. “Trying not to let that get to me, but I don’t think I’m ready to walk that particular path again just yet. You’re a sweet man, you probably are my type…but it’s the wrong time.
“Even if we may not get another chance,” she conceded with a grin. “It’s not you, Alexander; it’s me.”
He chuckled, but there was a bitter undertone to it.
“I think we’ve all heard that before,” he said, slowly rising. “I won’t take up more of your time, Lieutenant Commander.”
“Alexander…” She stopped him with a gesture. “I’m saying no today. Not no forever, understand?
“So, I have to insist: please, call me Morgan.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
In normal practice, Justified’s ship’s day ran, like any flagship, on “the Admiral is up.” Or the Fleet Lord, in this case.
Since Harriet Tanaka was suffering from an ugly round of insomnia, however, she was staying inside her quarters during what would normally be ship’s night. She had an office there, and so long as she was only reading emails and reports, not sending them, no one would know the Fleet Lord was up.
Well, no one except her long-suffering Tosumi steward, who calmly delivered a pot of green tea to her elbow with a silent flutter of yellow feathers and vestigial wings.
“Thank you, Ortal,” she told the alien. “I’ll be up for a bit, but you don’t need to watch me.”
“The claws of my tasking say differently,” Ortal on Varas replied with a cluck of her beak.
“Go rest, please,” Harriet said with a smile. “I’m fine, just having trouble sleeping.”
“The tea won’t help,” on Varas pointed out, and Harriet chuckled.
“I know. I’m giving up for now; allow an old woman her vices.”
On Varas clucked disapprovingly—with the new medical sciences, Harriet probably had well over two centuries left in front of her, so “old woman” was a poor descriptor—but disappeared out of the Fleet Lord’s quarters.
“Ask me for anything but time,” Harriet murmured once she was alone. The wallscreens in her office showed the table of organization of her fleet, ship by ship, on one side and the astrographic charts around Xīn Táiwān on the other.
She had no way of knowing when Bellerophon had received her orders. The hyperfold communicators’ inability to talk to ships in hyperspace was a major obstacle. It was far too easy to get used to near-instant communication across any distance and then lose it when they needed to travel.
If Xīn Táiwān had a hyperfold communicator, she’d have known more when she left Avida. She’d have been able to order an evacuation.
The communicators remained a government and military exclusive, however, and even the civilian ships there couldn’t have received her messages.
It wasn’t even like she had a decent ETA to the threatened system. Her fleet was following a current, a denser portion of hyperspace, that the Kanzi didn’t know about. That would let h
er arrive sooner than the Kanzi could guess…but it still didn’t let her predict her arrival with accuracy.
Hyperspace didn’t work that way. It wasn’t a consistent, easily calculated thing. The trip from Earth to Centauri was usually only a day or two…but could occasionally be a week. The trip from Earth to A!To was somewhere between four and seven months.
The Mesharom and other Core Powers had some tricks that DragonWorks had failed to duplicate. According to what the Mesharom had told the Duchess and Bellerophon, it would only take them a bit over four months, two-thirds of a long-cycle, to move a Core Fleet formation from Mesharom territory to Asimov.
Right now, Harriet Tanaka would have voluntarily sacrificed a limb to be able to move her fleet that fast. The decision to abandon Xīn Táiwān had been hers…and despite the front she’d put on for her people, she was grimly certain that Cawl was chasing the enemy.
Which meant that it was entirely possible fifty thousand people had already died for her mistakes.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
There was a deathly silence on Bellerophon’s bridge as the seconds ticked down. Every hand on the battleship was at general quarters, every weapon system armed, every sensor prepared to seek out the secrets of the system.
There was no holding back. Captain Vong had already ordered Morgan to use the tachyon scanners to get the most up-to-date information. Given that they knew Coraniss had reported everything they’d seen to their superiors, there was no point in holding back now.
Especially not if fifty thousand lives were in the balance.
“Emergence in sixty seconds,” Hume reported. “Our escorts confirm formation and emergence time.”
According to the reports Morgan had seen, Bellerophon wasn’t going to be able to use her sprint capacity again anytime soon. Her engineering section was going to have to rebuild the wrecked capacitors that had fed that system from scratch.
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