ARMS Helm's End: (Book 7)

by Stephen Arseneault

  "Admiral, the people of Domicile surrendered. They are your subjects. I flew that transport here and took this shuttle. Come and take me into custody. I'm the one you want."

  A single cruiser was dispatched toward the shuttle.

  Harris frowned. "Well, this isn't how I wanted that to work."

  "And just what were you expecting?"

  "I was expecting they would turn the whole fleet my way."

  Tawn chuckled. "Idiot. All you've done is to put us in jeopardy. Now we have to leave."

  Harris glanced at the nav display. "Maybe not. The Domers just came on the sensors."

  "And the Burrell are almost to the atmosphere. They get down there and they can hold everyone hostage."

  Harris turned the shuttle toward the incoming fleet.

  An incoming hail revealed the Burrell, too, had detected the Domer ships. "Treacherous Humans, you will all pay."

  "It's you who will pay, Admiral. You destroyed our world called Earth and then brought us here thinking that would make up for it. And now you think you own us. Nobody owns us. Humans will crush you and your ilk."

  Tawn said, "I show a hundred or so of the Banshees coming up from the surface."

  Harris looked into the comm camera. "Goodbye, Admiral. We could have lived in peace as partners."

  "You know not what you unleash."

  The comm closed.

  — Chapter 20 —

  * * *

  "Banshees are engaging."

  Harris opened a comm to Bannis Morgan: "How many pilots were you able to get?"

  "Eight hundred of our trainees. Eleven hundred of your Biomarines."

  "What?"

  "The colonel landed the transport at the tarmac with the volunteers. As he says, they are well trained and will offer a good fight."

  Harris took a deep breath. "That fleet is still several minutes out. Let's hope they can hold their own until it arrives."

  "The new Banshees are tough. We added a reflective coating that should help with partial hits. Won't stop a direct hit, but it’ll keep our pilots flying, if only for just a bit longer."

  Tawn scowled as the fireworks began. "A dozen or more gone with that first volley. And that one pursuing us has turned back."

  More than a hundred Banshees and their pilots had been sent to oblivion by the time the Domer fleet reached the fight. Thousands of mini laser pulses were countered by the meter-wide pulses from the Burrell. Twenty Domer destroyers perished to the loss of a single Burrell warship. A second and third volley saw similar results.

  Tawn scowled. "What's that moron doing? Those ships should be jinking about. He's wasting all those lives."

  Harris attempted to open a comm. It was refused.

  A second attempt was made to Bannis. "Connect me with the President!"

  A split screen came up on the display. "Mr. President, your admiral seems to be on a suicide run. His ships should be in constant motion. They're easy targets."

  "Admiral Benton has already been removed. That change should be taking place momentarily."

  Tawn said, "There they go. What an epic blunder."

  The President said, "What's done is done. Benton's command ship was one of the first to go."

  Harris nodded. "We'll let you conduct your war, sir."

  The comm closed. "That was awkward. How'd Benton ever make it into command?"

  "May have been a leftover from Croft."

  "Maybe."

  The fight continued to go in the favor of the Burrell. The pinholes being burned into their ships by the Domers were not enough to stop the continued assault. Banshee losses quickly approached a thousand while the warships destroyed topped two hundred. Only eight of the Burrell ships had ceased to move, and were soon overwhelmed by tungsten rounds from Domer railguns.

  Tawn shook her head. "This is not going how I envisioned. No wonder Bax got her butt kicked. The Burrell must be excellent at patching up holes."

  The chaotic scene continued for another twenty minutes, the Human losses continuing to mount. The Domer fleet was down by over half, twelve hundred of the Banshees destroyed or driven back to the surface with heavy damage.

  The new Domicile admiral made a command decision to withdraw, thinking he could somehow rally the troops and come in with a new strategy. The result was disastrous, as another twenty destroyers were hollowed out with direct hits from the Burrell weapons. Instead of holding in place, the fur covered Human enemy decided upon pursuit.

  The Domer ships jinked as they jumped, also returning fire, but from weapons that were mostly ineffective. Casualties continued to mount.

  Harris opened a comm to the new admiral. "If you can't fight, keep pulling them away from Domicile."

  The admiral replied, "That's my intention. I've been given orders to not surrender. Those warships have to have a weakness, we just need time to find it."

  "If you get them to the edge of the negation field, concentrate your fire on those masts. Without them they will quickly run out of jump fuel."

  "Consider it done."

  The run out from the influence of the negation field took just over half an hour. Three addition Burrell cruisers had fallen out of the fight. Nearly a third of the remaining Human vessels had befallen the same fate.

  Harris punched in coordinates for the wormhole generator.

  Tawn asked, "Where we going?"

  "New Earth."

  "What? Why?"

  "We need Baxter Rumford."

  "What? You're kidding, right?"

  "Hardly. We lose here and the Burrell own Domicile. Which would probably mean the end for all Biomarines, seeing as how they just killed a hundred thousand Burrell soldiers."

  "Still, there has to be some other option. What about our Banshees?"

  Harris shook his head as the shuttle slid through to New Earth space. "All three of them? Not quite enough firepower there. And look at it this way, if Bax loses, at least we're rid of that problem."

  "Wow. How low do we have to sink to win this thing?"

  "All the way to the bottom, apparently."

  A run into comm range was followed by a hail.

  "What do you want, morons?"

  "We need your help."

  Bax smirked. "You’re kidding, right?"

  "Not especially. The Burrell are attacking the Domer fleet. If they win, Domicile will forever be out of your grasp."

  "And if I win?"

  "New Earth and all her colonies are yours."

  "They're already mine."

  "Only if you can hold on to them. And if the Burrell win, we both know that won't happen. If you help defeat them, all this can be yours, uncontested."

  "What am I up against?"

  "Last count they had somewhere in the low thirties of their ships left. Domicile was somewhere around fourteen hundred."

  "Doesn't sound like my help is needed."

  "We lost that many again to their fifteen or so. The fight is not going well."

  "You know I left with fourteen ships, right?"

  "I have to believe you kept at least a handful in reserve."

  "And if I did?"

  "Then you have a force that might still win this for us all."

  "And how many reserve ships does Domicile have?"

  "None. They are fully committed. I'm told that in four days’ time another hundred Banshees will roll off the production line."

  "Sounds like you have your solution then."

  "We don't have four days." Harris took a deep breath. "Look, you're Human. I know you want to rule all Humans. If the Burrell win today, there's nothing stopping them from wiping out all of Domicile, and then all the free colonies, and then your colonies."

  "You know they've already signaled for reinforcements, right?"

  "That's a given. But I believe if their entire force here is defeated, they might not send more. That was a big fleet to lose when they're still at war with the Frizoid."

  "Hmm. Give me just a moment."

  Harris muted
the comm. "Time is wasting. You got anything we can throw in?"

  Tawn shrugged. "This is your brainchild. Close the deal."

  Bax came back. "I have one condition."

  "Name it."

  "The Retreat stays in my control. The Rabid system becomes a part of the Maxter Empire... uncontested."

  "Deal. What do you have to bring?"

  Bax gave a command. A sensor signal interference ship shut down its system. Eight hundred automated Banshees and six hundred automated Hoya cruisers popped up on the nav display.

  Tawn shook her head. "Didn't even think to look for that."

  The Fargo rocketed up from the surface as a fireball. "Don't ask me why I'm doing this."

  "You won't regret it," Harris said.

  The Maxter armada followed the shuttle out to free space. A jump through several hundred wormholes had the fleet coming in only minutes away from the fight. Bax ordered the fleet to a halt.

  Harris opened a comm. "What are you doing?"

  "I'll move when defeat of the Domer fleet is imminent. No sense in risking my ships just to save yours."

  Harris scowled. "You know how I promised to one day space you?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, I'm still planning on doing that."

  Bax smirked. "Now, that's no way to show respect to your Empress."

  "You're not my Empress."

  Bax rocked her head back and forth in thought. "Tell you what, you and your moron friend there, you both submit to being my subjects right here and now, and I will commit the fleet fully. I'm serious about this. Swear it on your Biomarine oath, or something that means something to you. Something you wouldn't violate."

  Harris sighed. "If it wins this fight on the terms we discussed, I'll do it."

  Tawn protested. "What? That's absurd."

  "Is it? We swore to do everything in our power to protect Domicile. If this keeps it free, I'll make the sacrifice and submit."

  Tawn fidgeted for several seconds before offering a scowl. "Fine. But I'm blaming you for this forever."

  Harris nodded. "A price I'm willing to pay. Bax, you have our solemn word. We are now subjects of the Maxter Empire."

  Bax grinned as she gave a verbal command to her fleet. The ships accelerated into the fight with their weapons blazing. The chaos surrounding the Burrell ships grew.

  Three opposition warships fell immediately, but the initial success was fleeting. The Burrell’s targeting was precise, their tactical moves just short of brilliant. Over the hour that followed, six additional enemy cruisers were annihilated. However, Bax had lost over a third of her force and the Domer ships now numbered in single digits.

  Tawn shook her head. "They just won't die. Even when hugely outnumbered."

  "A good crew with a good ship. Hard to put that down."

  "Bax's ships are automated. Those bots aren't slouches. Whoa. Another five just right there."

  A comm came in from Bax. "I'm not liking this fight. What's happening here? Those ships should have been destroyed a dozen times over already."

  Harris shrugged. "They're just tough. With superior weapons and good crews."

  Another fifteen minutes of chaos ensued and Bax lost the last of her stolen Hoya cruises. Her six hundred Banshees circled the cluster of fifteen Burrell ships, horribly denting their outer hulls with their hypervelocity tungsten pellets but not penetrating. With each raid, a quarter of the assaulting force was lost."

  Bax said, "I'm pulling out before I have nothing left."

  Another Burrell cruiser exploded.

  "Fourteen now. Stick it out. You can do this."

  A massive assault by half the remaining Maxter fleet was countered with hundreds of powerful laser pulses. Three more Burrell warships succumbed to the onslaught, but not before Bax had again lost half her remaining ships. The Empress of the Maxter Empire paced back and forth in the cabin of the Fargo.

  "This is not happening."

  Tawn replied, "You give up now and Domicile and all its resources will be put to use by the Burrell. You won't stand a chance."

  A comm came in from Midelon. "Mr. Gruberg, the bots have recovered the Bangor. She's heavily damaged, but she'll fly. News is the same for the Hailstorm."

  "Have the Bangor brought to us. Send the Hailstorm to Domicile for Bannis Morgan to effect repairs. Have it turned over to Colonel Thomas when complete."

  Alex replied, "The Bangor is jumping your way. Boomer is piloting her. I'll send the Hailstorm on as directed. Is there anything else we can do?"

  "Send our three Banshees here."

  Alex nodded. "We have four. They're on their way."

  The comm closed.

  Tawn asked. "What are you planning?"

  "If the weapons on that ship are still functional, I'm taking her in."

  "That's insane. We left her in bad shape. You take a hit from one of those lasers and you're toast. You won't last two minutes out there."

  "We have to win here or we'll never have our freedom."

  "We can make the Burrell pay for subjugating Humans. There are other ways to fight."

  The Bangor slowed as it approached the shuttle. It's somehow still intact docking tube stretched out and latched on, and the airlock door opened.

  Harris stood. "You stay here with the shuttle. I'll send Boomer over. No sense in wasting a perfectly good bot."

  "You don't have to do this."

  "Bax owns me. At least this way, I get to go out fighting."

  "She doesn't own you until this fight is over."

  "Then I'll make it over."

  The automated fleet pulled back.

  A comm was opened to Bax. "You have to keep attacking. They only have eight ships left."

  "And I'm down to a hundred fifty Banshees. That doesn't really scream ‘empire’ now, does it?"

  "In this sector of space it does."

  A wormhole opened and four new Banshees slipped through. I'm willing to commit myself and our remaining ships, but you have to attack now."

  "And if I don't?"

  "If you don't, those Burrell ships will track you down and annihilate you. Even now they're performing repairs. We're losing valuable time."

  Bax scowled for several seconds as she looked over her nav display. "All ships, prepare for another assault. This time we need results."

  Tawn said. "This is insane. I'm pulling out of this deal."

  Bax placed her fists on her hips. "A coward in the end, and a deal breaker."

  "You pulled out of the fight. That ended any agreement we previously had."

  Harris said, "Let her go, Bax. She's of no use to you. You have me fighting on your team as one of your subjects. Let's get this done. And I'll be taking their sensors offline."

  "Fine. All ships, attack on my mark. Goober, you ready?"

  "Rails are armed and laser is active. Give the word."

  "Attack!"

  A hundred fifty-two Banshees sped toward the eight remaining Burrell warships. Harris followed close behind. A conclusion to the fight was only minutes away, one way or another.

  A dozen Banshees were vaporized on the way in. The entire force fired on a single Burrell cruiser. It dented, then caved. Seconds later, the dark void of space surrounding it turned into a field of debris. An assault on the second cruiser saw similar results, as did a third and a fourth. Harris had dodged a half dozen near misses, one momentarily raising the hull temp of the Bangor to more than five hundred degrees.

  As the fight continued, with the Burrell ships sticking close together, Harris opened a comm to Tawn. "It's like trying to pick up a porcupine. Every attempt leaves you with severe pain and an unaccomplished mission."

  "You're under a hundred ships now," Tawn replied, "And the ratios are not in your favor."

  "We're too close to give up now. We have to finish it here."

  Tawn shook her head. "Give Morgan four days and he'll have another hundred ships for us."

  "If the Burrell head toward Domicile, there won't be any ship
construction left. This has to be finished now."

  Within a span of ten seconds, forty-eight Banshees were vaporized. But not before two additional cruisers were shredded. Bax continued pacing. Tawn continued to shake her head. Harris dodged and weaved in the Bangor, firing his railguns. The tiny laser turret hanging from his ship's belly blasted out pulses.

  Thirty Banshees met their end as the Burrell fleet was cut to a single ship. Harris aimed for its drive system, managing a proper hit and sending the beast into a slow spin. Its laser turrets continued to fire, knocking Bax's fleet to single digits.

  Seconds later, a seam split open in the Burrell warship's side. The Banshees capitalized, firing repeated rounds into the open hull, effectively gutting its interior. The laser cannons fell silent.

  Bax came to a stop, pumping her fist in the air. "That's it? We won!"

  Harris looked into his camera and bowed. "You've saved Domicile. I'm now your humble servant."

  Tawn scowled. "You aren't serious about sticking to that, are you?"

  "I gave my word. I'm now her subject. I won't take any action that threatens Domicile or her citizens, but I'll do just about anything else she asks."

  "You'll do everything I ask," Bax said. "That was the deal."

  "No," Harris replied. "I still have an option. You can always put me to death."

  "That wasn't the deal we had."

  "I am your subject. If your subjects don't cooperate or comply with your every command, what do you do? You either imprison or terminate them. I'll take either before harming any of my people."

  Bax gave an order. Her small fleet moved through wormholes to New Earth. "Goober, let's go home. I have ships to repair and convert. And I'll be needing the specs on that hop-drive you have there on the Bangor."

  Tawn said, "You can't give her that tech. It allows her to fly to Midelon."

  Harris nodded. "She's right, Bax. This ship does not belong to you."

  The Bangor docked with the shuttle. Tawn came across and the tube retracted. Boomer jumped through a wormhole to Midelon.

  Harris moved to the airlock. "Take good care of her, Freely. I'm not likely to see her again."

  — Chapter 21 —

  * * *

  The stump stepped into the airlock and was soon floating in space outside. "Bax, if you want me, come get me."