Hold the Line (Chimera Company Book 5)

by Tim C. Taylor

  “I’m Vice Marshal Tonozan. I command the defense of JSHC and the Tej system. Another wave of boarders is on the way. The more you explain to me, the more chance we will have to survive the next attack. Speak!”

  Squids winced at Tonozan’s phrasing because already she knew how this would play out. No one was going to survive.

  * * *

  Adony Zaydok

  He did his best to explain to Tonozan what he and Squids had seen of the past, but Zaydok stumbled over his words. Squids helped a little, but she was struggling, too. After the first few visions where only Squids had ‘seen,’ they’d shared identical experiences so they’d never needed to put into words what they’d observed.

  He painted a picture of the attack in the deep past, of the bone ships and the brown, leathery pouches laden with ferocious attackers.

  The Federation had discovered the abandoned ring and greedily suckled on its teat, never realizing that the energy it offered them was merely a tiny fraction of what it could deliver. At full operation, the energy it extracted from the gas giant was so vast that it was difficult to comprehend.

  The Andromedans knew this. Lusted for its power.

  Zaydok guessed the ring builders had left because they didn’t fancy their chances in a rematch with the Andromedans. Whatever the truth, they were long gone, but they’d left a parting present. A poisoned one. The ring was a honey trap, an irresistible lure for the Andromedans, should they return—and when they did, it was rigged to blow.

  This was the final detail he and Squids had seen in their vision only the night before. They knew now that there had been a window of several hours when they could have hired a ship and fled, but it wasn’t as if they’d known the Andromedans would show up the very next day. They’d wakened to the news that the citizenry of JSHC was being pressganged into its defense, and all travel out was prohibited.

  “So, in conclusion,” the vice marshal said when Zaydok and Squids had finished, “we’re orbiting above a booby trap. Any resistance we offer at JSHC just acts as bait. Even if this is accurate—” an embarrassed smirk flashed over Tonozan’s face, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was about to say, “—the Militia and the Amilxi People. M.A.P. We stand together in moments of crisis. Speak of this to no one. You two might have given up, but I don’t have that luxury. We stay strong, and we fight to the last breath. Liberty or death!”

  * * *

  Vice Marshal Tonozan

  Once he’d severed the connection to the two mutants, Tonozan stood in weighty silence while he absorbed the news of his imminent death.

  Then he shook his head. “M.A.P. The Militia and the Amilxi people. Never thought I’d say those words. What’s wrong with me, Neeskins? Have I grown drunk on our little victory? Are we all wannabe heroes now?”

  “We can still get out,” his deputy said without enthusiasm. “We’ve received the final recon reports from the police cutters before the last of them were wiped out. They put the bulk of the Andromedan forces at the ring. It’s compatible with thinking that JSHC is nothing more than an inconvenient wrinkle that will be ironed out when it suits them. If we’re going to either be overwhelmed or caught in this alleged booby trap, what would be the point in staying? We can’t save the people of this station, but we could maybe save ourselves.”

  “I’ll tell you why we stay, Neeskins. We can make a statement. I believe that has value.”

  “Enough for us to die?”

  Tonozan scratched his chin furiously, disgusted by the boneheaded platitudes stuck in his head. In his world, the word “hero” was an insult. He put the blame squarely on Hjon and Indiya for putting these barbarian notions in his head.

  “We beat them back once,” he said. “We led everyone in JSHC’s defense. Militia, Legion, the citizens, even the Guild came together and showed that we can achieve much more united. The Legion joined us in the defense. Now we, in turn, will borrow the Legion’s motto and hold the line.”

  “You’re insane,” Neeskins said with a chuckle, “but I like your flavor of crazy. I’ll double security at the hangars and spaceport to enforce the flight ban. If ships leave, discipline will snap, and there will be a stampede for the exits. However, there are a few final flights that need scheduling. You need to repeat what you just told me into a camera, and we have to show the aftermath of the first battle. Copies must be dispatched to nearby star systems. There’s no point making a statement if no one gets to hear it.”

  Tonozan sent Neeskins to carry out his plan. He spent a few precious moments wallowing in the rich irony. If the Federation survived this period, he might be remembered for centuries to come as a hero.

  Who could possibly have guessed that was to be his fate? A hero? Maybe the word wasn’t such an insult after all?

  He laughed. Of course it was. Heroes were idiots, and it was his fate to die a fool. At least he was able to choose the manner of his exit.

  Putting aside such thoughts, he set about the business of organizing the doomed defense. There was much to do.

  * * *

  Kreyenish “Squids” Zee

  It started at the poles.

  Flux hoops erupted from Tej Prime’s atmosphere, bubbling up like an overheated broth, quickly spreading from the poles down to the equator. The main Andromedan force was crossing the space between the ring and JSHC, but Squids didn’t think they would ever get there.

  “What’s happening to the planet?” asked Freya, who’d tagged onto Squids and Zaydok after the first assault. “The enemy’s screwing with the planet.”

  “Whatever it is,” Zaydok said, “it’s not worth worrying about.”

  Freya thought it over. “Okay, I guess.”

  Squids smiled at the Human whose fate had intertwined so unexpectedly with hers. Maybe he wasn’t so heartless after all.

  He was lying, of course. The gas giant was roiling now, electrical discharges illuminating it like a novelty light globe. A head-splitting crack thundered through District Metz. The lights went out, but Squids’ vision was filled with pops and crackles. It felt like a massive EMP shockwave.

  Some light began to return. Not much, but enough for her to see Zaydok. He was still alive. They all were, but she didn’t think that would last much longer.

  She saw his lips move but…no words came out. The man was hopeless. He never knew what to say. Instead, he reached out his hands for her to take. She squeezed them, and he smiled back at her as they awaited the end together.

  And waited…

  She felt dizzy. Someone nearby vomited, and that triggered her to retch. It was all she could do to hold it back. She desperately wanted to sit down, but surely this wouldn’t take long?

  It didn’t.

  After the outer layer of Tej Prime’s atmosphere detonated, it took two minutes for the shockwave to reach JSHC. The blast front ripped through everyone on the station in milliseconds, turning them into plasma and flinging their high energy residue into space. The ring and the Andromedan fleet had put up as much resistance to the shockwave as a cheap holo projection.

  The massive space station, over four klicks long, and all the individuals inside were wiped away as if they’d never existed.

  The last two survivors of the Battle of Pirna were finally reunited with their comrades.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Fifty-Nine: Tavistock Fitzwilliam

  Flight Deck, Phantom, Tej System

  “Thank goodness you’re still here,” J’Klin said.

  “Good to know you care.” Fitz stared at Indiya’s vaunted flagship. Steadfast’s spherical hull had been ripped open in several places, the gaping wounds patched with force shields. “Did anyone else make it out of Zeta-Arcelia?”

  “Not all was lost. We fought the invasion fleet as long as possible to give the planetary defenses time to prepare. I sent the other surviving ships to the Laman Sector to be the nucleus of a counterattack. For now, the Tej Sector is essentially undefended.”

  “And the planet?” Iz
za asked.

  “Hundreds of civilian ships made it out but…you can imagine the amount of privilege you’d have to leverage to get a place on one of the last ships off a doomed world. The planetary invasion was just getting underway, but the outcome didn’t look in doubt.”

  “What next for us?” Fitz asked.

  “Depends on your next answer. How’s the Lady?”

  “Sleeping. Weak. Recovering fast.”

  J’Klin made a religious gesture of gratitude.

  “I’m glad someone’s happy,” Fitz said. “Look, J’Klin, you jumped in while we were just getting started with an essential task. Give me 10 minutes, then we can discuss what happens next.”

  “I can tell you now. We have one functioning hangar for you. Bring Phantom and Ghost Shark aboard. Steadfast is more spaceworthy than she looks. We need an hour to recharge the drive and make some temporary repairs. After that, we’ll jump to the Redoubt Line and regroup there.”

  “Copy that, Steadfast.”

  “What is it you need to do, Phantom? We could send people to assist.”

  “Negative. We’re remembering our fallen.”

  “Wait. Before you do, you should see this first. I’m sending you the final message from JSHC. If your people were still on the station, this is how they died.”

  * * *

  Osu Sybutu

  The survivors of Chimera Company sat in silence around the holo-projector in Phantom’s lounge. The way the disc masqueraded as a campfire felt inappropriate to Osu, given the devastation it showed. This kind of degenerate frippery had no place in a civilization on the cusp of extinction.

  They were staring at a real-time image of Tej Prime, a banded gas giant that looked pretty much like any other, except for the dark circles spotting it like buboes on a plague victim. Each stain was a storm, an epic event of atmospheric violence tearing through volumes greater than most planets Osu had set foot on.

  The silence of the image masked the ferocity of the hurricanes. Catkins had shown before and after images. Not only were the storm spots new, but the planet’s banding had changed completely in a matter of days.

  This was all too theoretical. Too distanced.

  The planet hung in empty space, and that absence, that negative space was the shocking truth that hadn’t yet reached through to Osu. The ring, JSHC, even its moons were gone. No blasted cinders, no debris fields. Nothing remained but memories.

  Tej Prime itself was diminished, having lost 10 percent of its mass. That was 31 times the mass of Rho-Torkis, flung out as a weapon.

  Fitz cleared his throat. “Does anyone want to say a few words for the people we lost on JSHC?”

  Osu’s guts pitched over, and he found himself getting to his feet. He’d hardly spoken to Zaydok and Zee, but he’d helped recruit them. That made them his responsibility.

  He didn’t know what to say, though, and sat down again.

  Ghost Shark was hooked into this memorial, and from Phantom’s sister ship of sorts, Claudio Zanitch began to speak for the dead. He had plenty to say about the pair. The man was painfully honest but managed to raise a smile on Osu’s face.

  Osu had nothing meaningful to add, but there was one other he needed to mourn.

  When Zanitch finished, Osu stood once more and spoke of his loss. “We’ve seen Tonozan’s last speech and the record of the final moments of JSHC. We’ve heard Steadfast’s report of the loss of Zeta-Arcelia. In both cases, the Legion failed. Brothers and sisters turned on each other. The Legion proved it can no longer be trusted. Over half the Legion Navy in this sector has been destroyed. Not a single Legion unit can be relied upon, and we can’t even blame the Andromedans for everything. Khallini might have nudged Department 9 into existence, but he didn’t exactly have to push hard. He recruited from the Special Missions Executive, and SpecMish is a branch of the Legion. We’ve lost Hines Zy Pel and Yat Darant, Zee and Zaydok, and many more besides. I mean those individuals no disrespect, but there’s one more casualty I grieve for. We’ve lost the Legion. The Legion is dead.”

  Zavage got to his feet, but said nothing. To Osu’s surprise, his words had sparked the biggest reaction in Arunsen. The big Viking leaped up in a shower of curses and advanced across Phantom’s lounge.

  Arunsen slapped a meaty palm onto Osu’s left breast and held it there. “You jacks are too obsessive about your Indiya personality cult tattoos. You forget what really matters is the heart beneath her image filled with Legion blood. While hearts like yours still beat, the Legion cannot die. You’re right that nothing can ever be the same again, but the Legion will be reborn.”

  A thousand curses erupted inside Osu’s mind, burning to be thrown at the Militia oaf who’d disrespected his grief. Then the damnedest thing happened. He accepted that Arunsen was right.

  Osu placed his hands over Arunsen’s and pulled his friend’s hand closer to his heart.

  “Thank you, brother.”

  * * * * *

  Epilogue: The Offer

  Lady Indiya

  The Redoubt Line

  “Aren’t you going to say I told you so?”

  Khallini’s image rolled its eyes. “Would it help if I did?”

  “If we could go back in time,” Indiya said, “I would repeat the same strategy. Every option was going to be tough. Building an interstellar civilization is incomparably difficult if you want its people to live in any kind of freedom. We failed. This first time we failed. Now we try again.”

  “But this wasn’t the first time. We were exiled from the Orion Spur because we failed there, too.”

  “That’s not a view I share. Makes no difference anyway, because now we pay the price of getting it wrong. We have to take help and advice from the people who’ve been running an interstellar civilization since before our ancestors came down from the trees.”

  “When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound so much like defeat. You should have been a politician, Indiya.”

  “Asshole.”

  He laughed. “So…I presume there was a reason you contacted me.”

  “Yeah. I need you to listen in to my next call. We’re both in this together, Khallini. All the way.”

  * * *

  “Your plea has been a long time coming,” the Muryani leader said, voicing its words into Terran through a translator device. “Now you are ready to fulfil the role for which you were brought here.”

  “Yeah, don’t rub it in,” Indiya replied. “I led the Exile fleet here. No one gave us a reason why this region should be our destination, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.”

  “I should think not. If your people were unintelligent, we would not have bargained to have you transported to our buffer zone.”

  “So we’re not complete clowns. Thank you for your flattery. However, let me make one thing clear up front. Before we left the Orion Spur, we first had to free ourselves from an alien tyranny. We didn’t come here to replace one set of rulers with another.”

  “We offer to be your allies,” the Muryani said. “That’s all we’ve ever wanted. Our Expansion is not an empire. Perhaps your translation does the term a disservice. We are replenished by the civilizations who join us. In return, we succor them. They are not our servants, not conquered races.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard that all before. Just remember one thing. You’re playing with Humans now. We never quit, we never forget, and when our situation is hopeless, that’s when we’re most dangerous. Weak though we are at the moment, the Federation is still your best hope to repel the Andromedans.”

  “I am delighted to hear it. Now you must prove the truth of your words. You already know our terms. You will find no deceit here.”

  This was the moment she’d been putting off for millennia—sharing the secret of the jump drive she herself had developed.

  For all their many other technological advances, the Muryani Expansion had never developed jump tech, nor had anyone else in the Orion Spur or Perseus Arm. They weren’t likely to, either. Major tech
nological innovation in these parts had plateaued around the time Humans discovered agriculture. That’s why Earth had been so prized by alien powers. Its brightest minds had seen the universe with fresh eyes, and innovation was a valuable commodity in an aged galaxy.

  Indiya had almost believed she’d been the first being in history to develop jump engines. Then Andromedans had shown up with their own drive tech and reminded her that the universe was a damned big place.

  In the tiny fragment she inhabited, the Muryani Expansion was by far the largest polity. It had remained constrained by sub-light travel. Not for much longer. What she was about to do would have repercussions far beyond the fate of Humanity.

  “I agree to your terms. I shall send my best team to liaise with you.”

  “We’ve been waiting.”

  “I bet you have.”

  * * *

  Osu Sybutu

  “Attention to orders! Come on, kids. Rise and shine.”

  Osu sat up in his bed. It would have been nice to think that he awoke instantly. The truth was that half of him was still in the land of Zs. The conscious part noted two details.

  The wall clock showed 0230, and Fitz’s voice over the intercom carried the glee that told Osu they were headed for interesting times.

  “We have a new mission, Chimera Company. Grab your gear and board your ships. We lift off at 0400. Destination, the Muryani Expansion.”

  * * * * *

  About Tim C. Taylor

  Tim C. Taylor lives with his family in an ancient village in England. When he was an impressionable kid, between 1977 and 1978, several mind-altering things happened to him all at once: Star Wars, Dungeons & Dragons, and 2000 AD (comics). Consequently, he now writes science fiction novels for a living, notably in the Human Legion and Four Horsemen Universes. His latest project is an adventure series called Chimera Company, which has been described as Warhammer 40,000 in the style of Star Wars. For a free starter library of stories from all the worlds he writes in, join the Legion at Humanlegion.com.