Nightfall

by Jay Allan

  She watched as the last group of shuttles lined up outside the docking bays. Hermes wasn’t a battleship, and it didn’t have the massive flight decks those behemoths did. She could only take two shuttles at a time into the inner bays, and another two at the external docking rings. Combined with the near panic the withdrawal order had caused at the Institute, especially among those not on the evac list, the entire operation had been a nightmare.

  Though not as horrible, she suspected, as it would be to give the order to transit, and to leave so many of those she’d cared about behind in hell.

  That horror still lay ahead of her…after she’d finished cramming the scientists aboard.

  * * *

  “All ships, maintain forward thrust. All primaries, prepare to open fire.” Clint Winters sat on Constitution’s bridge, his eyes locked on the display in front of him, his hands clenched tightly in fists at his side. He’d given the order, the one that had been at the back of his throat since the battle began. The one he’d been unable to hold back any longer as he’d watched the Hegemony forces advancing on Megara, on Tyler Barron’s task force and the orbital fortresses.

  “Yes, Admiral.” A few seconds later. “All units confirm, sir.” Davis Harrington’s voice sounded almost like a copy of Winters’s. The aide was clearly as relieved as his commander that the big ships of the task force were finally doing something.

  Winters knew he was exceeding his authority, but the enemy jamming had cut communications from his flagship and Admirals Nguyen and Barron, restricting their back and forth to drones sent on roundabout courses. He hadn’t received one in some time, and he hadn’t sent one either. He didn’t want to give Nguyen a chance to order him not to attack. The Hegemony would be fully engaged with Barron’s ships in a few minutes, and that’s when he knew he had to hit them. Victory seemed unlikely—the odds were just too great—but, whatever chance there was, it was then.

  “Admiral…Hermes is approaching the fleet, bound for transit point four. We’re receiving a communique.”

  “On my line, Commander.”

  “Admiral Winters?” It was a woman’s voice. It wasn’t familiar, but he knew who it had to be.

  “Captain Lafarge?”

  “Yes…sir.” It was clear whoever was on the line wasn’t used to military protocols.

  “Are you loaded up and ready to transit?” Winters didn’t know Andi, but he knew who she was, and what her mission entailed.

  “Yes…I just…well, I have a request.”

  “How can I be of help, Captain?”

  “It’s Tyler…Admiral Barron. He’s all the way back by Megara. His ships are going to be trapped there. He’ll be…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Captain, Admiral Barron is the best officer in the fleet. He knows what he is doing.” Winters had heard rumors that Lafarge and Barron were lovers. He upgraded that categorization from suspicion to fact.

  “He’s a stubborn fool. If his ships have to fight this out alone, they don’t have a chance.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that, Captain. We’re heading in right now. One thing I can tell you for sure, if I have my way, Admiral Barron’s ships won’t be fighting this battle alone.”

  “Thank you, Admiral.”

  “Thank you, Captain. Those researchers you’ve got might end up being our best hope.” He could hear the pain in her voice, and he knew how difficult it was for her to flee the system. She didn’t seem like the type who ran very often.

  He did think the scientists had to be saved at all costs, but he’d said what he had mostly as a mercy to her. Maybe even somewhat as a favor to Tyler Barron.

  “Maybe so, Admiral.” A pause. “Fortune go with you and those who serve with you.” The line went dead, and Winters watched for a few minutes as Hermes moved into position for transit, and the cruiser vanished into the transit point. He wished he’d had more time to get to know Lafarge. From what he’d heard, and his impression speaking to her, she seemed like an extraordinary person.

  But, he had no time for such things. He checked his harness, and he took a deep breath, as his ships moved into railgun range of the enemy. He’d soon know how good a job his fighters had done…and what hellfire awaited his ships.

  Only a few seconds passed before he had the first answer. Five of the closest enemy battleships opened up, sending chunks of super-heavy metals toward his advancing battle line at hypervelocity. The range was long, and all the shots missed, though one had come within two hundred meters of Victory.

  He watched as the range ticked down, his ships getting closer to their own firing range. He had to run the gauntlet, race through the distance where the enemy could fire unanswered.

  But, when his ships closed far enough, he was damned sure going to show them all just how he got the name, Sledgehammer.

  Time moved glacially, a long, slow crawl, even as the enemy fired again. Two of his ships were hit this time, and both were badly damaged. He glanced at the reports, but there was nothing he could do except press on forward.

  He remained silent. His ships were conducting maximum evasive maneuvers, and their primaries were armed and ready, at least those that didn’t get damaged before they could fire. There was no point in issuing random orders. His people just had to gut their way through…until they could strike.

  “Primary range in forty seconds, Admiral. All ships report ready to fire.”

  “All vessels are to fire at will at will, as soon as they enter range.” The enemy railguns might be a terror, but Confederation primaries were nothing to sneeze at.

  He stared ahead, waiting…and then he heard the familiar whine as Constitution’s main guns opened fire. All along the display, primaries fired, the deadly beams lancing through space toward the enemy. The beams weren’t as strong as the railguns, but they were easier to aim, and the first barrage scored four hits. Winters knew the enemy ships were huge and strongly armored, and it was hard to discern just how much damage the hits had inflicted. But, primary beams gave even the largest, toughest ships more than a nudge. He was sure the shots had ripped deep into their targets, frying systems and blasting open sections of the Hegemony vessels.

  A second later, his fleet had its first loss. Banner was struck directly amidships by a railgun. The older battleship, still carrying damage from previous fights, hung in space for a moment, floating almost peacefully. Then, the stricken vessel split open like an egg, fluids and gasses—and no doubt crew members—spilling out into space all along the rapidly expanding crack in its hull. The grim spectacle went on for perhaps twenty seconds, and then the ship’s reactors lost containment, and she disappeared in the shocking violence of a thermonuclear explosion.

  Winters was grim, but his intensity, if anything, was stronger. He added revenge for Banner to his list of reasons to destroy every Hegemony ship he could reach.

  As if he needed more reasons.

  He didn’t think his people could win, that they could fight their way through the enemy and link up with the rest of the fleet. But, that didn’t matter to him.

  All that mattered was, he was sick of holding back.

  It was time to show the Hegemony why they called him the Sledgehammer.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Court of the Sun

  Planet Elsibar, Ferrious II

  Capital of the Sapphire Worlds

  Year 318 AC

  “I am honored, Enlightened One, that you have granted me an audience.” Sara Eaton stood ramrod straight, her dress blacks pristine, spotless. She looked every bit the military officer turned ambassador she was. She hesitated for an instant, confirming from her memory that she’d used the right terminology. If her mission to the reaches of the Far Rim had taught her anything at all, it was that the rulers this far out on the galaxy’s edge weren’t shy about granting themselves sweeping and poetic titles.

  “You are most welcome, Admiral Eaton. We have long wondered why the Confederation did not send an ambassadorial mission to Elsibar.” The
words were spoken by a grotesquely fat man sitting on a garish golden throne. He was dressed in fine silks, and wore more golden chains than she could easily count. She stopped trying at nine.

  Eaton nodded her head gently. That’s because your little strip of worlds was too irrelevant to make it worthwhile. She kept the thought to herself, though. It seemed like one of those times where the truth would serve little useful purpose.

  “A dreadful oversight, I assure you, Enlightened One. I am afraid our knowledge of happenings so far out on the Rim is not what it should be.” She stopped there. She’d almost added that most of the specific information she possessed had come from the Alliance. But, the nations of the Far Rim, mostly small and fractious, prone to fight each other over all manner of causes, both valid and imagined, shared one thing above all else. A hatred and fear of the Alliance.

  The Palatians had fought wars against their neighbors farther out on the Rim, taken worlds, compelled the payment of tribute. She had gotten so used to having the Palatians as allies, she’d almost forgotten how aggressive and warlike they were. She was there to convince the Far Rim nations that a terrible enemy threatened them all…but the Palatians had been that for half a century.

  “You have met with my supreme commanders, Admiral. They have advised me about the threat of which you speak.” The Enlightened One paused for a moment, and Eaton tried—and failed—to discern his intentions. He wasn’t an impressive presence, not to her sensibilities at least, but she realized there was a certain practiced slyness to him. “Your evidence seems quite credible, Admiral, and yet, you must admit, this tale of an enemy so overpowering…it is difficult to believe fully. What of your Confederation navy? Even here on the Far Rim, we know of your great battleships, and of your renowned officers, Tyler Barron, Van Striker. And, your name is not unknown to us, Admiral. Could you not defeat this invader?”

  “Our forces fight them even now, Enlightened One, yet we have been driven back to Megara itself. And, Admiral Striker, whose name you mentioned…he has been killed in battle against the enemy.” It was a lie, of course, but she hadn’t been able to reconcile with an officer like Striker being murdered in the street. His heroic death in battle might be fictional, but it also might be useful. And, that would make his death slightly less meaningless. “We will likely be defeated without aid…and if we fall, there is little chance the Far Rim will be able to endure. You will all follow our fate, with grim certainty, and become slaves to the Hegemony.”

  It was an aggressive argument, especially with a pompous fool whose claim to greatness was being born in the line of succession to a great-grandfather who’d been somewhat of an accomplished conqueror nearly a century earlier, at least by Far Rim standards. Eaton’s data on the Sapphire Worlds and other Far Rim nations had been greatly enhanced during her stop at Palatia, and she’d studied it all carefully on the voyage. The Enlightened One—and as far as the Palatians had known, that was the fool’s only name—seemed like just the sort to continue the family tradition of squandering his famed ancestor’s gains, and by all accounts, fewer than half the Sapphire Worlds that had been eighty years before remained.

  “We are stronger than you might believe, Admiral.” She couldn’t tell if there was any resentment in his voice, or if he was just engaging in empty boasting.

  “I do not doubt your strength, Enlightened One. Yet, the entire Confederation navy, supported by most of the Alliance fleet, has been unable to stop the enemy’s relentless advance. Word of your power and renown reach all the way back to Megara, yet the Confederation is many times the size of the Sapphire Worlds. Can even your feared warriors face such a numerous enemy alone? For, what else can be your fate after we are gone?”

  “What would you have me do, Admiral? Send my fleets far away, to the Inner Rim, while my enemies feast on my undefended worlds? And, what of the Alliance? The Palatians are a threat to the entire region. What guarantees can you offer that they will not seek to take advantage if we come to your aid?”

  Eaton had been waiting for him to bring up the Alliance. Imperator Tulus had given her a powerful tool to use in recruiting the Far Rim nations.

  “Aside from the Alliance’s full commitment to the fight, to which all of their available forces have been committed, I can offer this.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a miniature tablet. “Your experts may examine this and confirm its authenticity. It is an offer from Imperator Tulus, a blood oath, given on his full honor as a Palatian warrior.” She knew the Far Rim nations all hated the Alliance, but she suspected they understood the place honor played in Palatian society. “Any nation that signs the treaty, that adds its forces to those defending the Rim, shall be, now and forever, friends of the Alliance, and shall never be attacked or invaded by any Palatian forces. Ever.” It was an amazing gesture, a virtual repudiation of sixty years of Alliance policy, and Tulus had given it willingly, fully aware of just how crucial it would be to any hope of uniting the Far Rim.

  He had given her something else, as well. Her voice dropped in tone, the words deadly serious.

  “Imperator Tulus also vows that any nation that rejects this plea, that stands by and does nothing while the forces of its neighbors are slaughtered for lack of additional support, shall be, for all time, enemies of the Alliance, and he will himself lead his forces in the sacred war to destroy the Rim traitors.”

  It was brilliant, offering deliverance from the conquest all had feared from the nearby Alliance, along with a deadly and credible threat for those who failed to answer the call. She suspected the inception of Tulus’s offer—and his threat—had been simpler and more straightforward than intricately woven, but it probably gave her the best chance at success she had. She could scare them all with tales of the Hegemony, but even with all the evidence she’d brought, a new and unknown enemy so far away would never seem truly real. But, they already feared the Alliance. It was as real as a threat got, and much, much closer.

  Still, she’d almost held back the second part. She wasn’t a diplomat, but she knew showing up with dire threats along with enticements was a risky way to go. All it would take was offending one petty Rim tyrant, offending his sensibilities and his overinflated view of his own power, and that kind of aggressive effort could easily backfire. She would have held it back, save for one undeniable fact. She didn’t have time. For all she knew, Megara had already been attacked. She didn’t know what would happen at the capital—or after the struggle there—but she doubted the Hegemony was about to put its tail between its legs and return home. And, that meant the Confederation needed more allies. And far sooner than the glacial process diplomacy usually became. She needed to speed things along, and she’d never seen an accelerant as effective as fear.

  “You carry with you interesting words, Admiral, and thoughts we must consider. Stay with us for a time, and we shall discuss them in greater detail.”

  Eaton almost snapped back an answer, a reminder that time was the one thing she didn’t have to offer. But, she held it back. Returning empty-handed was no better than returning late, and pompous ass or no, the course taken by the Enlightened One, and his Sapphire Worlds, would have a tremendous effect on what the other Far Rim polities chose to do. The small groupings of worlds were influenced by the larger nation, and scared as well. She’d never get some local potentate who ruled three systems to send his ships so far away if the Sapphire Worlds remained uncommitted, their fleets still on the Far Rim.

  “Your hospitality is greatly appreciated, Enlightened One, as is your wisdom. I urge you, however, to expedite our discussions. There is little time.”

  “Of course, Admiral…of course. We shall reconvene tomorrow evening for a state dinner in your honor. Then, perhaps the next day, we can begin discussions in some earnest.”

  Eaton barely held back the sigh. A day lost, and then more time wasted on pointless festivities, on some local monarch’s effort to show off the richness of his kingdom to an ambassador who couldn’t care less. But, there was
nothing she could do. She needed the Sapphire Worlds if she was going to organize any meaningful coalition on the Far Rim.

  “I will be honored to attend, Enlightened One.” And, after complimenting the grandeur of your table and the brilliance of your assembled nobles, I will bring the discussion back to the treaty. I will try to save your pointless little empire in spite of itself…along with the Confederation and the rest of the Rim.

  * * *

  Eaton knelt before the raised dais, and she lowered her head as she’d been instructed to do. She found the entire process degrading, but she understood the importance of her mission to find new allies. The Sultanate was, depending on the source and its own leanings, either the most powerful of the Far Rim kingdoms, or the second most. If she could gain their support, it would likely convince several of the others to commit as well…and almost certainly the Enlightened One, still teetering on the edge of signing the treaty. The Sultanate and the Sapphire Worlds were rivals, and neither one was likely to risk allowing the other to sign a treaty with the Confederation and the Alliance without also being a part of the new power bloc. Nor could either send their forces so far while the other remained on the Far Rim in strength.

  “You are welcome, Admiral, to my Court.” The sultan’s voice was deep, gravely, and there was an arrogance in its tone. Still, the ruler’s words seemed respectful enough, probably more so than he’d mustered for anyone else in a long time. The Sultanate was no less terrified of Alliance aggression than the Sapphire Worlds—though the denials of such concerns were just as loud—and the idea of the Palatians allied with the Confederation had to seem like some kind of nightmare.

  “It is my honor to come here, your Highness, as the first representative of the Confederation to make an official visit. It is something that should have occurred long ago, before desperate times forced the issue.”