Lieutenant Spacemage (Imperium Spacemage Book 3)

by Timothy Ellis

  In less than a minute, we appeared in a system not far away, directly above the station in orbit of a Trixone planet. The nearest local fleet was heading away in the next system over, and the dinos had entered through a different jump point. They were now within minutes of being in firing range. And as yet, I had no idea if they intended to kill the station, or capture it.

  “Imperium ships,” said a voice, and a screen popped up showing a mixture of species, with the speaker being a Trixone with a purple flower. “We request your assistance. The Rawtenuga have told us to prepare to surrender station and planet to them. Can you help us?”

  “Now, yes, but we cannot guarantee to be around for the next fleet they send.”

  “Now is all we need, Imperium. We’ve recalled our defense fleet, and they should be back before another enemy fleet can arrive.”

  “Stand by.”

  I nodded to Leanne, and the channel closed. This time, hosing fire was going to work.

  “Launch fighters,” said Eagle.

  “What are you doing?” I pinged him.

  “What I have to,” he pinged back.

  They were all in space in wall formations before he’d sent me his ping.

  “What are your intentions Space Commodore? We can do this the easy way.”

  “We’re fighter pilots, Mage Master Lieutenant.” There was just a slight emphasis on the final rank. Serena face palmed. “First target going to each squadron now,” he continued. “Assume strafe positions, jumping in ten.”

  “Tamsin, give us the ones they’re not targeting, and jump us with them.”

  She didn’t get a chance to reply, as there simply wasn’t time.

  We all jumped. The rear end of a dino ship loomed ahead of us, Serena pulled her trigger, and pressed the torpedo launch button. The back end of the battleship disintegrated, Leanne jumped us away immediately, and we appeared behind another one. The same thing happened, and we jumped back to our starting position. Both battleships had lost a good third of their length.

  A screen popped up showing all of our ships, and their status.

  Four of them were red, and I reached out to them with my magic, finding three, and a pilot in space. The pilot appeared on the deck to my side, and the three damaged fighters, which had not jumped, appeared off to one side of Long Water. I moved all three pilots over here next to the other one as soon as I realized how damaged their ships were.

  Suits in protection mode reverted to flight suits, but the original pilot remained out cold. Without asking, the other three scooped him up between them, and rushed out.

  More than half the fighters were below fifty percent shields, and all of them, including the damaged ones, were mark fours.

  “What happened?” I asked Tamsin.

  “The fours had to stay longer. These Rawtenuga are warriors, and reacted at warrior speed. They’re just as quick as the Trixone are. They stayed a second too long, and the four hit badly were the unlucky ones.”

  “All squadrons, home jump,” I ordered.

  I was going to ask Eagle to come to the bridge, but I knew he was going to anyway, so didn’t. Their hollos vanished with their jumps. I looked at Leanne.

  “Enemy status?”

  “Disabled. But still heading for the station.”

  I did a quick check of the navmap, placed a large mouth rift in front of the still relatively intact wall formation, and both waves of sixteen ships went through it, coming out not far behind the other sixteen ships we’d also disabled in a previous battle. I left the rift up long enough for most of their debris to follow them through.

  It left three badly damaged Excaliburs. I considered moving them to their normal bays, but decided that would probably damage them even more. I looked at Tamsin.

  “Make sure Admiral Jane has the battle feeds, and request a support cruiser with enough cargo space for three damaged Excaliburs.”

  “Confirmed.”

  A moment later, Jane popped up, looking unhappy, and she was in time to see Eagle pop out of the hangar rift. He stalked forward, and came to attention before her hollo.

  “Space Commodore Lacey, submitting himself for disciplinary action, sir!”

  “At ease Space Commodore. Marshal Bigglesworth will be informed as soon as he’s awake. In the meantime, consider yourself suspended from duty.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  He saluted, did a parade ground turn, and marched off the bridge without a word.

  “What the hell was that about?” asked Jill.

  “Something a long time coming,” suggested Woof.

  “Stow the speculation,” said Jane. “Long Ocean will be with you shortly. Move the damaged fighters over to her cargo deck, and then return to Haven.”

  “What about the station?”

  “Tell them you’re leaving, accept any thanks they offer, and don’t make any commitments. The new first contact protocols are still being worked out, so you will under no circumstance go aboard the station. Understood?”

  “Understood.”

  She nodded, and her hollo vanished. I nodded to Leanne. The station channel reopened.

  “The tales of your destructive ability have been understated,” said purple. “Our own fleet would have taken much heavier casualties. We appreciate your sacrifice on our behalf, and offer you the freedom of our station as reward. Bring your people over, and relax in our hospitality.”

  “Your offer is appreciated. But unfortunately I have orders to depart. If we return to this section of space in the future, I hope we can take you up on your offer.”

  “These are troubled times, Imperium. We will hope for your return. For now, accept our thanks, and the promise of relaxation in the future.”

  “Your thanks is accepted, as is your offer. As soon as we’ve collected our damaged ships, we’ll be departing.”

  “Go in friendship, Imperium.”

  The channel closed.

  “Well, knock me over with a feather,” said Jill, pretending to swoon.

  Fifty Nine

  “This enquiry will come to order.”

  A conference room on Haven station had been hastily improvised for this proceeding. Marshal Bigglesworth sat alone behind a desk, facing rows of chairs. On his right against the wall sat Admirals Jedburgh and Jane, and on his left against that wall, but in front of the table, sat Eagle.

  I’d received orders for the squadron to come directly here, the moment we docked. The Eagle Wing squadron leaders were sitting behind us. None of us had eaten breakfast yet, and I wondered what the hurry was.

  Screens around the room lit up with the battle recording from Long Water, and we watched it right through from where the order for the fighters to launch, until Long Ocean had collected the damaged Excaliburs, with just a short period of nothing happening cut out. When the screens vanished, Jane announced all four pilots had checked out fine, and just needed replacement suits, and new ships.

  “Space Commodore Lacey. Would you care to explain what I just saw?”

  The marshal did not look happy.

  “No sir.”

  None of us expected that answer.

  “You want me to court martial you?”

  “I’m at fault, sir. The loss of four Excaliburs, and the near loss of four pilots, is solely my responsibility. I accept whatever punishment you decide on.”

  “And what am I supposed to do with you?”

  Eagle paused, looking solely at the marshal.

  “Bust me down to squadron leader, sir.”

  The marshal looked as if that was the last thing he expected.

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “The Imperator can.”

  “The Imperator is still with Arthur, visiting the planet they and Rogue’s crew saved.”

  “You can still submit a recommendation to him, sir.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “We know each other well enough I shouldn’t need to say it.”

  “Say it anyway. Let’s get it on t
he record.”

  “If that’s what you want, sir.”

  “I just ordered it.”

  The marshal sounded as if he was getting angry now, but holding it in check. For the first time I wondered how much history these two had. I’d have to remember to ask Jill if she knew. They’d always looked like they were friends, but now I was starting to wonder.

  “I never wanted to be anything more than a squadron leader. You know that. The Imperator kept promoting me, kept pushing me into ships I didn’t want to fly, and even though I’m back in fighters, I’m not what I want to be. I’m a combat pilot. I never wanted to be anything else. I accept the danger of going into a fight. All my pilots do.”

  No-one said anything, but in the mirror only I could see which I hastily pulled up to see behind me, all the squadrons leaders were nodding. Bigglesworth frowned.

  “Admiral Jane usurped my squadron idea when she created Navy Mage One,” Eagle went on. “And I admit, it had to be done with midshipmen since we simply didn’t have the experienced mix of people, and still don’t. The concept has worked brilliantly, and up to my expectations of the original ideas I had. I have no problem with that directly, but it’s not my squadron.”

  “Now I find myself as a flag officer subject to the orders of a junior naval officer. Senior officer of the system we’re in, but not in command. That’s not a position anyone should be put in on a regular basis. But that isn’t my problem. Mage Master Lieutenant Bud has done a damned fine job of being a fleet commander, even as inexperienced as he is. But a Space Commodore should never be placed under a lieutenant for any reason.”

  He paused, shot a glance at me, and then looked back at the Marshal.

  “I don’t have a problem with taking orders from Bud. None of us do.” The nodding behind me started up again. “I have a problem with being a squadron leader with too much rank for the job.”

  “You lead a thirteen squadron wing. That’s not the job for a squadron leader.”

  “But it is. Technically there should be a wing commander in charge. Technically there should be a navy captain in charge of the carrier squadron. And in time, I have no doubt there will be. But for now, with a lieutenant in command of the carriers, the rank of squadron leader is the highest this command should have. I don’t want to leave the command, but I shouldn’t have the rank either.”

  “My actions today expressed both the dissatisfaction of fighter pilots being forced to hide behind magic for protection, and my own frustration at having been promoted far beyond what I ever wanted, and then all my calls to be put back being ignored. The Imperator knows how I feel. You know how I feel. I’ve found where I belong as a squadron leader based on the carriers of Navy Mage Squadron One. Anything else is a waste of my skills. Sir.”

  The Marshal looked at him for a long moment, and then looked at all of us.

  “Anyone have anything add?”

  “Permission to speak freely, sir?” said one of the squadron leaders, rising and bracing.

  “Granted.”

  “Eagle Wing works, sir. But we need to be a fighter wing at least some of the time. That means taking risks. When we all have mark fives, the risks will lessen, but being a fighter pilot was never about guaranteed survival. Navy has always had the command. That’s not the issue, nor is the rank of the person with the command. We understand the Lieutenant ranks as a Wing Commander as a Mage, and his orders always make sense. But we’re increasingly being used as mobile weapons platforms, and had stopped being fighters. None of us are happy with that. Sir.”

  He sat abruptly. Eagle hadn't looked at him the whole time.

  “Who else feels that way?”

  “Sir, yes, sir,” bellowed all the fighter pilots, and also Woof, Metunga, and Norden.

  He shook his head a few times from side to side, frowning. Then looked at me.

  “Mage Master Lieutenant, anything you’d like to add?”

  I stood and braced.

  “Sir, I tend to agree with what’s been said. Having a flag officer taking my orders just feels wrong, sir. And while situations keep forcing us to adapt, I appreciate the frustrations of the pilots. If the commander of the wing was my own rank, maybe we’d find it easier to work together on developing guidelines for when the fighters go in, or they hide behind magic, or both. I’m doing my best, but I don’t have the experience. If an experienced squadron leader in charge of the wing can work with a navy lieutenant, I think that can work. Sir.”

  I sat abruptly as well.

  “Anyone else?”

  No-one stood, and no-one said anything.

  “Fine. Space Commodore Lacey. Your wing is stood down for today. I’ll raise the issues with the Imperator when he becomes available, and I have no doubt you’ll receive a summons in due course.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “This enquiry is at an end. Eagle Wing is dismissed. Navy Mage Squadron One, remain please.”

  He rose, nodded to Admiral Jedburgh who was also rising, and left, with the Eagle Wing pilots filing out behind him in rank order. Jedburgh took the vacated place at the table, but didn’t sit. He looked at all of us, and then nodded to Jane, who’d also risen.

  “Attention to orders,” she bellowed.

  We all jumped up, and braced.

  “The Imperator was going to do the honours tonight,” said Jedburgh, “but I think now is more appropriate. Aspects of what you’ve been doing over the last few weeks are still classified, and while the Imperator is not going to be happy with me doing this now, I think now is as good a time as any.”

  “Lieutenants, Junior Grade. You are all promoted to Lieutenant, effective immediately. Congratulations.”

  A few seconds later, all their suits shifted, showing their new insignia. They saluted the Admiral, and it was returned.

  “Everyone sit, except your commander.”

  They sat, leaving me braced on my own.

  “Mage Master Lieutenant Bud. You are promoted to Lieutenant Commander, effective immediately. The opinions expressed here today probably would have seen you promoted anyway, but as it happens, your promotion was approved yesterday, based on your performance in a crisis no-one else saw coming, let alone acted on. Congratulations.”

  The pulse came in with the new insignia, and my suit shifted to show the same three bars, two wide, one thin between them, that the squadron leaders had been wearing.

  “In addition,” he went on before I could salute, “you are hereby awarded your second Gold Star, for your actions in protecting the Imperium from an alien species we were not prepared to encounter. Exact details remain classified, but you more than earned this award. Congratulations.”

  Again the pulse and suit shift, the only difference being now my suit was in dress uniform mode, and the gold ribbon now had a diamond on it. This time I saluted, he returned it, and I sat again.

  “The squadron has the rest of the day off, but you’ll be required to attend the gala happening tonight. You’ll get your invitations in due course. Dismissed.”

  He immediately strode out, but Jane stepped forward before we finished rising again.

  “I need a few moments with Bud,” she said.

  “I’ll meet you on my beach,” I said, and they took their exuberant faces away with a hint of disappointment.

  Jane ignored them. She asked me a few questions. I answered them, learning something more about fleet command in the process.

  She left with a happy look on her face.

  Sixty

  We arrived at the Haven ballroom exactly on time.

  But it appeared the party had been in full swing for quite a while already. Dress uniforms predominated, but there were quite a few couples dancing, and some of them wore civilian attire.

  We were accompanied by our AIs, who we’d discovered only a short time ago were now sporting ensign bars as well as their AI insignia. Of course, I’d known it was happening, since that’s what Jane had been talking to me about.

  We’d spent a relaxin
g remainder of the morning on the beach, eaten barbeque on the sand, sunbathed for a while, and after a few of us went to sleep under the sun and had to be awakened before sunburn happened, slept most of the afternoon away. At least I did. Some of them definitely had naps, but I was last up.

  We walked our way back to Haven, via my station and the Terminus station, meeting our AIs at the public rift point on Haven. The team had been pleasantly surprised at their promotions, and a group hug had ensured, after which twenty eight beings in dress uniform walking in formation had drawn a lot of attention, and we reveled in it while ignoring it.

  The moment I walked into the ballroom, I felt the ‘weight’ of the sceptre on my back increase. I instinctively knew where the Imperator was, and which end of the enormous glass ceilinged room I needed to keep away from. It wouldn’t be hard, as I wasn’t part of his social circle, or of anyone’s who was.

  Looking in that direction, social popups told me who was who, which included Arthur and his ship captains. His crews seemed to be dancing with most of the Imperator’s circle of friends. No surprises there, from what I’d heard from Jill.

  What did surprise me was none of Rogue’s crew being present, as I assumed the party was about their successful mission more than anything else, and I’d been expecting a promotions and medal ceremony, and glad my own had not been in public, like I assumed theirs would be. The news was well out that the crew had all joined the Imperium military officially, as a marine unit. Apparently no public ceremony for them though. Maybe theirs had been in private as well.

  I headed towards a drink station which wasn’t being used by many people, and the team followed me. Our AIs on the other hand melted into the crowd, and I had the feeling more than just ours were in attendance. After getting myself a wyvern beer I intended to nurse for a while, I stood there watching the crowd, and started noting who didn’t have drinks, and who did. The AIs were obvious on that basis, and there were a lot more than I’d thought.

  Someone stepped up to my side, and I found Squadron Leader Lacey grinning at me, said grin getting wider when he saw my reaction to his insignia. Behind him was his AI, who was a person sized eagle, feathers and all under the dress uniform, which left a lot of neck, head, feet, and hands showing them. Obviously doing shoes for bird feet hadn't proved practical, or was still a work in progress.