Bomb-pumped lasers were usually relegated to mines. Not that it was unheard of for them to be used on missiles, just surprising. The Empire wasn't supposed to have anything like that level of technology. The Empire missiles simply weren't that sophisticated; their maximum range was small, and the missiles were large and clunky. That disadvantage was made up for by the proximity of the battle. Since the Centaur hadn't expected the planet to have defenses, they were too close to have enough time to target and destroy all the missiles.
The planet below them lit up, momentarily brighter than the primary of the system, as the eight missiles the Centaur had launched separated over the target and forty twenty-five-megaton fusion warheads struck the planetary defense positions on the eastern continent at a tenth of the speed of light. Nothing could have survived those blasts that seared their way deep into the planetary crust. Concussion waves could be seen spreading hundreds of kilometers through the atmosphere. The planet would experience terrible earthquakes as well, and the hundreds of volcanoes on the surface would be erupting within hours.
Singh thought it eerily reminiscent of the devastation on Serendipity.
Three of the missiles from the second wave the enemy had launched from the planet reached detonation range of the Centaur without being destroyed.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Lt. Commander Hrothgar Tebrey and his companion Hunter were suited up and waiting in one of the Centaur's many assault shuttles ready to ferry the marines to the surface. Lt. Commander Calvin Smith, the marine commander, was strapped into the acceleration couch across from Tebrey. They were both was tied into the command communications network on the Centaur and could monitor the battle. Smith was frustrated that he couldn't do anything to influence it.
If the Centaur won the battle in orbit, the ship's entire complement of marines would drop to the planet below to assault the enemy base. If the Centaur lost the battle, they wouldn't care, since they would all be dead.
Three more hammer blows struck the ship in rapid succession. One of the assault shuttles across the bay disappeared in an eye-searing blast as a beam of coherent gamma rays struck it, outlining it in a haze of Saint Elmo's fire before it exploded. Secondary explosions rocked the ship. The screams on the com channels told the toll in lives.
The Centaur was torn and rent, venting atmosphere from a dozen places. It was amazing that the crew had managed to keep the ship from tumbling. Smith glanced over at Tebrey. He couldn't see Tebrey's eyes through the man’s armored helmet, but he knew Tebrey was thinking the same thing he was: if the shuttles didn't launch soon, they wouldn't be able to. He also knew that the other Empire destroyer would be coming around the planet at any moment.
"We've lost three missile tubes," Santiago said. "Our defensive fire capability is down to twenty-seven percent. We lost two of the assault shuttles, one vaporized and the other badly damaged. Initial ship-wide casualty estimates are two thousand plus. We barely have enough crew to operate."
Singh cursed Admiral Meleeka steadily. Most his crew were dead or injured, and there was still another ship out there. "Time till the Hrimfaxi is in weapons range?"
"Six seconds," McCray answered tensely. "All remaining beam weapons and missiles are locked on estimated target position."
The Hrimfaxi came above the horizon, and both ships fired simultaneously.
Six missiles raced toward the Centaur while particle beams from the enemy ship tore at her hull. The beams were mostly harmless to the Centaur, except where they entered hull breaches and punched into compartments already badly damaged by the graser hits. Defensive missiles and laser batteries only knocked out two of the missiles, but McCray had taken direct control of the heavy laser cannon normally used to bombard planets or tear at ships. He swept the twin beams across the incoming missiles and destroyed all but one.
The five missiles from the Centaur had a greater acceleration and reached the Hrimfaxi almost before the Empire ship could react. The Empire crew still managed to destroy four of them, but the last one survived to deliver the five fusion warheads at point blank range. The warheads from the Centaur tore the upper decks off the ship. Atmosphere vented explosively from the Hrimfaxi, and it started to tumble.
The surviving missile from the Hrimfaxi exploded six thousand kilometers from the Centaur, and the beam of gamma rays tore through the ship from the front like the thrust of a sword. This warhead was smaller than the warheads on the planetary missiles, but it was much closer to the Centaur when it detonated. Conduits exploded into clouds of radioactive gases. The edge of the beam passed through the bridge, and Singh stared in horror as a third of his bridge crew simply disappeared in an explosion of gore when the water in their bodies flash-boiled.
Bits of bodies and smoke clouded the now weightless bridge, and the Centaur began tumbling out of control.
The two ships swung through their orbits toward each other. Proximity alarms screamed over ship-wide circuits. The ships missed colliding by less than a kilometer.
"Get us under control!" Singh shouted.
Lieutenant Madison was surprised to still be alive, but too busy to think about it. The ship was tumbling, and the automatic attitude thrusters were only sluggishly responding. Her hands darted across her screens, firing thrusters by touch, using her own sense of equilibrium to right the ship.
"Mary, what is the condition of our assault force?" Singh asked, his voice strained.
Santiago grimaced. She was having difficulty getting a sticky patch to stay over the bubbling wound on her leg where a piece of shrapnel had sliced her, but she answered the captain out of reflex. "Most of the shuttles are still flagged as ready for launch, sir."
Vertigo swept over the bridge as Madison steadied the ship. "There, sir."
"Good work, Lieutenant," said Singh. "Mary, have those shuttles launch now, while they still can."
"Yes, sir." She sent the launch command via her one surviving screen.
"Can anyone tell me where that other ship is?" Singh asked. "Are we about to get hit again?"
Upper Shipmate Kiryl Rurik answered unsteadily from the weapons section; he was the only one still alive. "I've got an intermittent plot on what may be the ship, Captain."
"Do the best you can, crewman."
"Yes, sir. Looks like she's seventeen thousand kilometers to stern and still tumbling, Captain. I'm getting very few energy readings. The computer calculates a threat probability of only six percent, sir. It looks like she's out of the picture for now."
"Do we have any weapons still functioning?"
Rurik carefully double-checked before answering. "No, sir," he said, his voice almost a whisper.
"Well," Singh said reasonably, "at least they can't know that. Do we have coms?"
"The DEP is out, sir, but we have inter-ship," replied Mitchell.
"Hail that ship and order them to surrender."
"Yes, sir."
"And what if they call our bluff and refuse?" Santiago asked quietly. She'd finally managed to get the patch in place, but was feeling light-headed from blood loss. She could feel the blood crawling over her skin.
"Then at least we'll know they're still alive over there."
"What?" exclaimed Calvin Smith. "We're to proceed with the assault?"
"That is affirmative, Commander," Santiago said over the link. "You are go for launch."
"Are they crazy?" Smith asked Tebrey, keeping his voice down.
"What choice do we have?" Tebrey asked in return. "The Centaur is a battered hulk. We don't know the condition of the other Empire ship. Launching the assault might be the only chance we have of success for the mission."
Smith shook his head. "Screw the mission. You're as crazy as the captain." No matter how he felt about his orders, he had obeyed them instantly, and the shuttles were queuing up for launch even as he had complained to Tebrey.
"Oh, no," Tebrey said reasonably. "I'm much crazier than he is."
"Thanks," Smith replied. "That makes me feel so much be
tter."
Static cluttered the com channel, but the captain's voice could be heard clearly enough.
"What are your terms?" asked Captain Myrkjartan.
Singh heard someone screaming in the background, and the distinctive popping sounds of shorting electrical panels. At least they still have atmospheric integrity on their bridge, he thought. Nevertheless, it twisted his guts to hear the suffering he'd caused.
"Full surrender, ship and crew," Singh replied. "Standard honorable treatment for prisoners of war."
"So it is to be war, then."
"How could it be anything else after what your forces did to Serendipity?"
"I truly don't know anything about that," said Myrkjartan.
Singh thought she sounded like she wanted to say something else, but he wasn't sure what. "Do you accept?"
"I have no choice," Myrkjartan said. "The Hrimfaxi is yours, sir. Much good may it do you."
Tebrey's shuttle had been second to launch from the Centaur. As they exited the ship, Tebrey called up an exterior view from the shuttle on his suit's display. From outside the ship, the damage was shocking. Tebrey had never seen a ship so torn apart and yet still under power.
The shuttles had to navigate cautiously to avoid hitting pieces of shattered hull and burned bodies.
There were a lot of bodies.
Smith swallowed convulsively next to him. The young commander had lived through the final battles of the Nurgg War, but that had been different. The Nurgg weapons had destroyed most ships outright. The mass carnage of this battle was something new for him; not even the surface of Serendipity had been as bad. He also knew that those bodies out there were the bodies of his friends and shipmates.
Tebrey grimly studied the damage, calculating the chances that the Centaur would be able to make it back to Federation space, and he didn't like what he came up with.
They'll send a rescue mission, right? Hunter asked plaintively.
I don't know, brother. I think if Meleeka could have sent another ship, she'd have sent it along with us.
That doesn't bode well for us.
Tebrey laughed, startling Smith. No, my friend, it doesn't look good, but what's new about that?
Chapter Thirty-Nine
"Sir?"
"Yes, Bruce," Mandor answered absently. He was working his way through a report on the civil unrest along the Earth Federation Frontier. The situation there was starting to turn ugly. The Federation Fleet had 'suppressed' a rebellion on Farflung. The reports from that were bad, but not as bad as what happened at Atlonglast. That had been shocking. Federation ships had bombed the planet from orbit. A relief force was being put together now from impounded Federation merchant ships. At least the Concord would be able to provide a little food and medical aid to the survivors. With the Federation threatening war, they couldn't do much else.
"The Rhyrhan ambassador is here to see you, sir," Bruce said.
Mandor jerked out of his chair as if pulled on strings. The ambassador was not on Mandor's schedule for the day. Part of him wondered why he had suddenly gotten so popular with the Rhyrhans.
"Show her in, Bruce." Mandor quickly straightened up his desk and shut down his air screens. He tried to recall everything he knew about the ambassador. He knew that Ambassador Keves'brin was young for a Rhyrhan diplomat, being only in her third decade. She'd been the ambassador to Dawn for just over two years. Her family had a long tradition in the diplomatic service, but Mandor knew very little else about her.
Keves'brin towered over Bruce as he led her in. She had sleek, rusty red fur with black tiger stripes, and her eyes were richly amber-toned. There was very little sexual dimorphism in Rhyrhans; if Mandor hadn't known what to look for, he might not have guessed the ambassador's gender at all.
Bruce hadn't mentioned that the ambassador had a companion. At first, Mandor took the white-furred Rhyrhan to be an aide, but the Rhyrhan moved with a regality that belied that. It was more as if the ambassador deferred subtlety to her companion, but Mandor couldn't be sure.
"Ambassador Keves'brin," Mandor said as Bruce hurried from the office. Bruce seemed ruffled about something, but Mandor couldn't tell what. "This is an unexpected honor. How may I be of service?" Mandor remained standing and didn't offer chairs, since his seating was designed for humans and would have been uncomfortable for a Rhyrhan.
"Admiral, may I introduce to you my companion?" The ambassador turned with a half-bow. "This is Emissary R'Chalnok of the Council. It is she who wished to speak to you."
Mandor followed the ambassador's lead and gave a small deferential bow. He was shocked that someone from the Council had traveled to Dawn. He really was getting to be popular with them. "Then I am twice honored. How may I serve you, Emissary?" He noted with interest that the emissary had bright sapphire-blue eyes, very unusual in Rhyrhans.
"I have come from Rhyr as fast as possible," the emissary said in a soft voice. "We require that a ship be made available for our use immediately. A matter of some urgency has arisen."
Mandor blinked in confusion. "Perhaps the emissary would explain?" he said. "I am an admiral, yes, but I have little to do with the actual Concord Navy. Perhaps the ship the emissary arrived on..."
"I did not come here on a ship, Mandor Shadovsky, and there is little time for the verbal games you humans seem to enjoy. The Arcadia is currently at Beta Canum Venaticorum. You will order the Arcadia to divert to Chi Orionis. They must get to Vesuvius and intervene in what is happening there as soon as possible."
"Pardon me for asking," Mandor said, "but how did you get here, if not by ship?"
"I choose to be here," R'Chalnok said enigmatically. "Will you order the ship to divert?"
"I'm afraid that isn't really practical at the moment, Emissary." Mandor wasn't sure what to think of the emissary's answer to his question. While he knew it was possible for a psion to apport, to move from one place to another instantly – he could do so himself – he also knew it was impossible for anyone to have apported all the way from Rhyr to Dawn, unless the Rhyrhans had access to technology far above anything the Concord had suspected. Technology that enhanced a psion to that level would be frightening.
"Is the survival of your species practical, Admiral?"
Mandor twitched. "Excuse me?" That had sounded like a very un-Rhyrhan-like threat. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"You must divert a ship to Vesuvius and stop Hrothgar Tebrey from leaving the Federation starship Centaur at all costs, even if you have to destroy the Centaur to do it. He must not be allowed to land on the surface. If he does, your species may not survive another year. Not mention the threat to all other forms of life, ours included."
Mandor stared in stunned silence for a moment. "First of all," he said, "what you are asking for would be a declaration of war against the Federation, something we've been trying to avoid. Secondly, I happen to think that the man in question could be very important to the human race. He has exhibited some unusual traits, but he is fighting for the good guys, if you understand me."
"I understand more than you can possibly imagine. Hrothgar Tebrey will encounter something dark upon Vesuvius, something more ancient and terrible than anything your species has ever encountered. I am a seer. I have seen the lines of probabilities, and they all lead here, to this. It will force him to make a choice, and the fate of your species depends on what he chooses. Are you willing to let him decide whether your species lives? As for the other, war with the Federation is inevitable," R'Chalnok said with a lack of concern atypical for a Rhyrhan. "Many will die, no matter what you do. If you do not stop Tebrey from leaving the ship, then he must be either rescued or destroyed before they have time to work on him. We are not as certain as you that he would choose the correct path rather than fall into eternal darkness. The Centaur has suffered catastrophic damage; it will be unable to return from its mission. Their DEP is out. No one will know if the Concord destroys the ship. If Tebrey chooses the way you say he will – and I hope for
your species' sake that this is true – then he must be rescued at any cost, but if he is left upon the planet to die, he will fall. It is inevitable."
Mandor shook his head. "How could you possibly know what is happening on Vesuvius? And how can you ask me to kill a man, a ship, and then tell me I have to keep him alive at all costs? I think he's important, and I don't think he would turn to the enemy. He would die first."
"If it has time to work on him, he will want to die but will not be allowed to. His despair and anger will turn him."
"I just don't believe it of him. Ambassador? What do you think of this?"
"I defer to the greater wisdom of the emissary."
"Of course you do," Mandor muttered.
"Mandor Shadovsky, time is of the essence."
"I'm thinking," Mandor said irritably. "I really don't see how I can get the Navy to agree to this. The Centaur was going to Chi Orionis to fight, and you say she is disabled. If we get in the middle of it, we could lose a ship. In either case, we'll be declaring war on the Empire and maybe on the Federation as well. I don’t understand what you're talking about, but I’ll do my best to do as you ask. Your people have never lied to me. Even if Fleet Command does agree, though, the Arcadia can't get there in under four and a half days, at best speed."
"The Arcadia will have to do better than that. They must get there today, even if it destroys them. They must push themselves harder than ever before," said the emissary. "As for getting your navy to agree, tell them I am here and that the Combine demands this boon if we are to be joined as one with the Concord."
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