by J. J. Green
“You get top rack,” she said, patting the upper bunk. “I’ll sleep down below. I hope you don’t snore.” She pointed at herself and then the lower bunk. “That’s if we get a chance to sleep.” How to tell him they were about to engage in a battle? It would be impossible. She guessed he would figure it out when the fighting started.
What would happen to him then? It might be best to lock him in his cabin until it was all over.
“Hey, this is crazy,” she said. “I don’t even know your name. Let’s begin your first English lesson.” She touched her chest. “My name is Taylan. Taylan,” she repeated, emphasizing the syllables. “Can you say that? Taaayyylannn.” She pointed at his mouth.
The man’s brow wrinkled. “Taayylann.”
“That’s great. Taylan.” She patted her chest again.
“Taylan,” said the man.
Next, she gently tapped his chest. “Who are you? What are you called?”
He replied with a name that caused all the strength in her legs to evaporate and shock to radiate through her. She managed to slide onto the lower bunk.
It couldn’t be.
Ever since Wright had told her about the strange person he’d rescued from the cave in West BI, someone who appeared to have survived for an impossible length of time, and ever since she’d seen the man’s torques with their carvings of beasts and dragons, she’d been harboring a wild speculation about who he might be. But she wasn’t the kind of person who believed in ghosts, fairy tales, or even the ancient mythologies of her homeland. To her, they were all stories for entertainment and part of the culture and heritage she was proud of, but they weren’t fact. She’d never believed in any of the people or creatures of the ancient legends. She’d never thought they actually existed.
It wasn’t possible.
The man was watching her with concern.
He sat down next to her and said something in his own language.
“You can’t be,” she protested.
She must have misheard. Her mind was playing tricks on her. The man was speaking a foreign language in an unfamiliar accent, and her imagination must have inserted another word in place of the one he’d actually said.
She decided to try again. “I’m Taylan.” She touched her chest and felt her heart pounding against her breastbone. Fearing the worst, but not sure exactly what the worst would be—what would it mean if it really was him?—she pointed at the man.
He repeated the name she’d heard before.
“No, no, no!”
It had to be a mistake, or something to do with his pronunciation.
Or it was only a coincidence.
That was it.
A coincidence.
Red alert! Red alert! sounded her comm. Enemy ships approaching. Battle stations.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Belladonna fired. Pulse bolts spurted from her cannon and sped across space.
Dwyr Orr sat on the flagship’s bridge, thrilled by the chase. The dreadnought was leading the EAC formation, the tip of a four-sided spearhead. Spreading out behind the ship in four lines came the rest of the fleet.
The AP’s battleships approached from another direction, racing to meet the enemy.
Kala recalled the Belladonna’s launch ceremony—the blessing, the breaking of the bottle of champagne, the celebratory rituals, the post-launch party—it had been a wonderful moment and a milestone in the history of the EAC. She loved the ship’s sleek lines and powerful armaments, including a particle lance and pulse and plasma cannon, but her pleasure was bitter-sweet. She also longed for the day when she wouldn’t need starships or weapons, when the Crusade would unlock the secrets of the universe and harness its natural power.
When that happened, she would assert control of the solar system and habitable planets of the galaxy and return everything to its natural order.
“Direct hits,” reported the weapons officer.
But the Belladonna’s pulses evaporated on the hulls of the BA corvettes, causing no apparent damage. The distance remained too great, most of the bolts’ energy dissipating into space before they reached their target.
However, the EAC was closing the gap.
Kala smirked, imagining the dismay of the BA’s commanding officers now they understood their plan had been leaked and they were flying into a trap.
The Belladonna’s captain, a small, dark-haired man, cleared his throat. “From the trajectory of their ships, it appears the BA is heading for the Bres, not the Balor, as we thought, Dwyr.”
“Then we change the intercept point. I’ll inform Ua Talman in case he doesn’t already know.”
“The navigator is already working on it.” The captain looked uncomfortable for a moment, then added, “I believe your boy is aboard the Bres?”
“He is. And?”
“I just want to reassure you I’ll do everything in my power to ensure he’s unharmed.”
“Thank you, but your assurances aren’t required.” In response to the captain’s puzzled silence, Kala went on, “The fact that the BA intends to attack the Bres isn’t bad news. It only means they never stood a hope. Perran is the future of the EAC. He’s inviolable. His presence will protect the colony ship, the same as mine protects the Belladonna.”
The captain inclined his head. “We’re fortunate to have you aboard.”
Was there a tinge of irony in his response?
It didn’t matter.
When she’d revealed the EAC’s deepest beliefs about undiscovered physical laws to Ua Talman, she’d noted a similar attitude of disbelief and, perhaps, amusement, but she hadn’t taken offense. Most of the people she met were ignorant, blind children when it came to the Truth. They could only see what lay before them and clung to simple, Newtonian ideas about how nature worked. The captain didn’t need to believe her, only follow her orders.
One day, Lorcan and the other doubters would see how right she was.
She got up and strode to the captain’s holoscreen, which displayed an ever-changing vista of the ships involved in the battle. “Fire again.”
“But—”
“I know the range is still too long. I want to harry them.”
Naturally, the captain didn’t want to expend the Belladonna’s finite power capacity unnecessarily, but there was more to a battle than trading hits.
“I want them to understand they have no hope.”
On the holoscreen, the AP vessels crawled upward from the bottom left. The BA had to have noticed their second enemy by now.
The captain gave the order, and four bolts of pure energy tore from the flagship’s cannon.
The BA admiral had to be assessing the ships bearing down on them, and their firepower. He had to know the battle was already lost. The BA was outgunned and, with two adversaries flying in from separate regions of space, it was soon to be outmaneuvered.
She expected some attempt at defense, and then a quick surrender. They would try to save the lives of their men and women. The Alliance was losing ground on Earth, and now it would lose its dominance in space.
“Again,” she said. “Fire.”
This time, as the pulses streamed toward the BA fleet, the corvettes, trailing the bigger ships, returned fire. The bolts collided with the Belladonna’s, exploding in bursts of energy. Finally, a response. The BA was fighting back, deluded, imagining it might still win. Or did it only want to make it through to the Bres and destroy the ship as a last act of defiance?
“Their fighter ships are launching,” the captain warned.
Kala nodded, satisfied. She would enjoy the fight. “I’ll leave tactics to you from now on, captain. I’ll liaise with Ua Talman as the battle progresses. You know the overall strategy.”
“Thank you, Dwyr.”
She returned to her seat and opened a direct comm to Lorcan.
“You were right,” was the first thing he said, after a lag.
“That’s gracious of you to admit,” said Kala. “I told you my sources were reliable
. Did you doubt it?”
“Perhaps a little. It’s wise to be circumspect. I’ve been trying and failing for years to infiltrate the BA, and, to be frank, I couldn’t quite believe they would be so bold as to attempt to attack my colony vessels.”
“They want to hit you where it hurts,” said Kala. “Losing one of your ships would be a huge setback and a heavy blow to your people’s morale.”
She heard the captain’s orders to the weapons officer. The Belladonna was now sufficiently within range of the BA fleet for their hits to count.
“You don’t need to tell me that,” said Lorcan. “But now they know we’re one step ahead. That’s got to unsettle them.”
“Do you know they’re targeting the Bres, not the Balor? My source got that wrong.”
“Perhaps a last minute change of mind,” said Lorcan. “The substance of the intel was accurate, and without it, the BA might have succeeded. I would have been hard put to muster an adequate defense in time. I’m glad I accepted your proposal to work together.”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Kala replied. “It’s an old saying, but true nonetheless.”
“Now I know your capabilities, I would rather be your friend than your enemy, Dwyr.”
She smiled at the flattery. A wise sentiment, Ua Talman. Unfortunately, anyone who stands in the way of the EAC will eventually be my enemy, and one day you will be an obstacle, not a means to an end.
A collective shout from the officers on the Belladonna’s bridge went up, distracting Kala from her conversation. She lifted her head and saw a spray of fine sparks on the holoscreen—the traces of a BA ship disintegrating. Looking closer, she realized they’d destroyed one of the little corvettes.
“I have a battle to direct, Dwyr,” said Lorcan. “Forgive me if I end our chat for now. I’ll update you on developments.”
The AP fleet was now coming within firing range of the BA. As Kala watched, it began its attack. The AP’s battleships were closest to the leading BA vessels, their destroyers, dreadnoughts, and battlecruisers. The Alliance had certainly gone all out in this attack, throwing most of what they had at the AP.
And, despite the discovery of their plan and the combined assault by both its enemies, the BA appeared to be pushing through regardless, attempting to reach the Bres and destroy her no matter what damage their ships sustained in the attempt.
Murmurs of support for the AP went around the bridge, as everyone who wasn’t watching a console fixed their attention on the holoscreen. The Project ships didn’t appear to be holding anything back as they rained hell on the BA. The larger ships of the Alliance’s fleet were better equipped to endure the onslaught than the corvettes the EAC had been targeting, and they were returning fire on a similar scale...
A second BA ship fell, victim to the EAC’s pulses.
A roar of jubilation exploded on the bridge, and Kala leapt to her feet in joy. Two ships gone! Though they were only corvettes, that had to be a massive blow to the Alliance.
The BA, forced to split its defense between two antagonists, couldn’t adequately protect itself from either.
The AP ships drew closer to the intercept point, where the three fleets’ trajectories crossed. It was here the fighting would be heaviest. Kala’s stomach twisted in anticipation. At close quarters, the Belladonna could use its particle lance, and the effects would be devastating.
“Swifts launching,” someone announced.
The BA was sending out its fighter ships, ready for the upcoming close-quarters action.
“Launch Scorpions,” ordered the captain.
As Kala watched, the EAC’s fighters flew out to counter the BA’s, the tiny dots on the holoscreen moving far faster than the battleships, making them look cumbersome and unwieldy in comparison. She guessed the BA’s Swifts would try to target the Belladonna’s engines, set aft behind heavy casing. If they were damaged, the flagship would lose both velocity and power for its weapons, but she was confident the Scorpion pilots would do their job.
She returned to her seat again, her excitement ebbing. It didn’t appear the BA was anywhere near the point of surrender, and the battle could go on for hours. She began to feel detached from the scene on the holo and everyone around her. Others might not feel as confident as her about victory over the BA fleet, but, as far as she was concerned, the outcome was a foregone conclusion. Now it was only a matter of watching the inevitable play out.
The BA offer to surrender would come sooner or later. Lorcan and she had already agreed they would not accept.
As Ua Talman had pointed out, utter annihilation of the BA fleet was the best way to ensure an end to the threat she had mentioned to him. She was fairly confident the man remained aboard one of the Alliance’s ships. If they wiped them out entirely, and every living thing aboard them, the threat would be destroyed too. In the vacuum of space, everything died.
And the BA would never recover from such a defeat.
It would never control Sol space again.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Even at top speed they were half an hour from the Bres, and they were already two corvettes down. Wright had watched in horror as first the Daisy and then the Primrose exploded, turned to flying dust by concentrated pulse fire from the EAC ships.
Hundreds of men and women dead, in a heartbeat.
The BA vessels were being picked off by the EAC one by one, and meanwhile the jaws of the other beast, the AP fleet, awaited them.
Ever since he’d heard the BA’s objective was to destroy the AP’s primary colony ship, he’d thought the scheme was madness. He could understand the thinking behind it—Ua Talman’s project wasn’t an intellectual or practical endeavor, it was his baby, born of grief and rage. Cutting out its heart might break him. On the other hand, it could push him over the edge, and then, who knew what he might do to get his revenge?
But now the point was moot. The BA was speeding willingly to its destruction, as Wright saw it, barring a miracle.
Colbourn paced the bridge, seething. Wright wasn’t sure if it was because she held the same opinion as him, that they were on a suicide mission, or because she’d been required to give over control of the Valiant to a Royal Navy captain for the duration of the battle.
Probably both.
The old brigadier marched to and fro, hands clasped behind her back, casting glances at the holoscreen and wincing in displeasure and anger.
“Launch Swifts,” said the captain.
Colbourn turned to Wright. “Units ready to repel boarders?”
“Yes, brigadier.” It was the third time she’d asked him. The marines had been at battle stations ever since the EAC fleet had been sighted. But he guessed her sense of impotence was driving her to distraction.
The BA had committed most of its vessels to the attack, keeping only a few in reserve. Where they were, Wright didn’t know. He also didn’t know if he was luckier to be aboard the Valiant or if he would have been better off on one of the reserve ships. The idea of clinging on after the final defeat of the Alliance disturbed him. Better a quick death than a lingering one.
“Here she comes,” said the captain.
The loss of two of her corvettes had attracted the EAC flagship to the Valiant. The massive vessel was plowing through the Swifts like a bear through a cloud of bees, intent on the honey in their hive. There wasn’t anything the Swift pilots could do about it. EAC Scorpions were keeping them occupied, preventing them from getting near the dreadnought.
“What about the Fearless?” Colbourn asked.
But the BA’s flagship was leading the charge toward the Bres, and had enough troubles of her own, defending herself from the AP’s onslaught.
“We’re on our own,” the captain replied. “But don’t worry. We still have our sting. Bring her round,” he said to the helm.
“Aye, captain.”
“What are you doing?” asked Colbourn. “Shouldn’t you run this past the admiral?”
“No time. We’re fight
ing for our lives. He can make me face a court martial when the battle’s over, if either of us is still around.”
Wright braced against a rail as the Valiant swung about.
“Railgun barrage, as soon as you have her in your sights,” the captain said to Newcombe, the weapons officer.
The projectile weapon might work against their large attacker. The dreadnought would be slow to move out of the line of fire, and her forceshield would do nothing against solid titanium.
Wright gripped the rail tightly as the sharp movement threatened to throw him off his feet. Finally, the Valiant began to slow as she neared her new position.
“Shit! No!” someone shouted.
On the holoscreen, where one of the BA’s ships had flown, now there was only a debris field.
“Which ship?” asked Wright.
“The Resolute,” the captain answered grimly.
A painful silence descended on the bridge.
Wright had had friends aboard the Resolute, one of the BA’s newest destroyers, friends from his training days. He felt sick and powerless.
He suddenly wondered what he was doing there, on a dubious mission and in a desperate battle. Colbourn’s confession about the state of things in the upper echelons of the BA had wormed its way into his psyche, making him question everything he’d held dear all his life, making him question who he was.
“Newcombe,” said the captain sternly, “when you’re ready.”
“Yes, sir.” The woman refocused on her console. Wright guessed she had known people aboard the vessels they’d lost, too.
Fuck! Three ships! They were three ships down already, and the battle had barely begun.
He was seized with the need to do something. He couldn’t stand there and watch the destruction of everything he’d held dear for so long.
“Ma’am,” he said to Colbourn. “Permission to join a unit defending the ship.”
She looked at him distractedly, as if she hadn’t quite heard what he was saying.
He realized that, for the first time in his years of serving under the brigadier, he was seeing her on the edge of losing it.