Crusade of Vengeance

by Jay Allan

  Before it could begin the long building process, waiting for the moment when it could burst through the currently disabled jump point, back to the home space of the humans…and its own as well.

  And complete fully its mission…to restore the Regent to its sole position of power in space.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Charles Deacon’s Log

  I am more than prepared to return home, to enjoy a long vacation, visits with my family and friends, and then finally, resume a post with the main fleet. Service with the scouting force was an idea, one that was seductive, but one which now seems less than ideal. Still, as much as it has tired me out, it will likely fit well into my overall service profile. Nevertheless, for right now, I am glad to return, almost giddy.

  But this final system is…problematical. We have completed the analysis of it, at least the minimum amount I am required to undertake…but there are difficulties. I can’t say it is the location of the Regent, in fact, mere odds suggest that to be an almost insurmountably small chance. Yet, we have discovered some things that are difficult to explain. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible that I would have delayed the return of my ship, but I have done just that. Hopefully, it will be just a brief period, a short extension of our time spent here…and then we can return. But despite my desire to go home, to leave behind the vast sections of mostly uncharted space, I have to see this through. I have to gain the explanations for the strange things we have discovered here and eliminate even the tiniest chance that this is, indeed, the Regent’s location.

  I know the possibility of finding the Regent are tiny, and yet, despite my desire to withdraw, to return home, I must see this through.

  Office of Max Harmon

  Victory City, Earth Two

  Earth Two Date 1.30.63

  Max Harmon sat in his chair, looking at the vast array of charts in front of him. He wondered as he looked out at them, really seeing them, perhaps, for the first time, how he had convinced himself his people had any chance at all. They had won years before, barely, but that had been somewhat of a fluke, and most importantly, the battle hadn’t been around Earth-2. This time—and the new message from Simon Dirth pretty much eliminated any other possibility, even just that of a larger time than he had hoped for—there was no doubt. The enemy was coming, of that he was sure, and while there were four jumps between Linshire and Earth-2, providing the possibility of buying at least a bit of time, he was almost positive he had at most a couple months. And when that time was over, he knew he would be attacked, and even if his people somehow managed to beat back the enemy, doing so while also keeping Earth-2 safe seemed almost impossible.

  The planet was like any other, and that meant it was immovable, at least to anything he had. The enemy would almost certainly lunge right for it, and that meant, even if his fleet succeeded in ultimately defeating them—a difficult enough prospect—the planet would likely be battered, badly.

  That didn’t necessarily mean his people would be destroyed, at least not if the fleet ultimately prevailed, but it did suggest there was a chance that much, perhaps most, of the population would be annihilated. He had spent sixty years encouraging large families, even as he himself only had two children, and he had succeeded in generating a massive rise in population. If he lost ninety percent of that, or even more, what could the survivors do? Their factories and shipyards would also be mostly destroyed, and they would be hard pressed to build any new ships at all—even surviving would be difficult—while the Regent would be as strong as it had been, and in a few years, probably even stronger.

  He realized he had essentially bet everything on his ability—somehow—to find the Regent before it found him. He hadn’t put it that way, not exactly, but now he truly realized that had been the only true bet. With the destruction of Linshire and the apparent exploration by the enemy toward Earth-2, his chances of that were close to gone.

  He glanced down at the update from Achilles. At least the new program was almost set to go. In a week, he would have ten of the devices ready…at least ready to test. That would be useful, assuming they worked, at least in terms of rooting out any enemy scout ships that poked into the system before the enemy assault. At least he would have warning, perhaps as much as several weeks, or even a month. That was something…but it probably wasn’t going to be enough.

  Still, unless something changed totally, it was likely to be all he had. He put his face into his hands, and he exhaled sharply. His life had been difficult when he was younger, before the fleet was trapped in the outer region…but he’d always had hope. Now he realized, that, despite his greatest efforts, despite his almost ceaseless attempts to prepare for the final confrontation, he was in terrible shape.

  He closed his eyes. He couldn’t sleep; he hadn’t for days. He couldn’t do anything useful either. He just sat, thinking about the coming fight, and realizing that his civilization, all of it, was likely to end…soon.

  Then something took him, some form of hope. Maybe, just maybe, his thought about sending some of the people out, to colonize other worlds, did make sense. With 3 or 4 new worlds, each balanced to hold a variety of his people, perhaps at least one could survive long enough to grow. To reach Earth-2’s current size…and build beyond that.

  He sucked in a deep breath, and he looked across the room. He wanted to give up, but he couldn’t do it. Whatever he could do, anything that had a chance of success, even a tiny chance, had to be tried.

  Anything.

  * * *

  Charles Deacon stared at the screen, looking at the incoming figures with an intensity that could only be described as powerful. He had insisted on the second scans, something his crew had no doubt hated, but which they had all agreed to, at least superficially. But now, he expected blowback, active dissent…because he was about to order a third review.

  “Commander Jeries…” Deacon paused. He had decided already on a third run through the system, involving planet number three, but when he went to say it, he paused.

  “A third run?” He could hear some doubt in Jeries’s voice, but the subordinate sounded better than he’d expected. He wondered if it was just diligence, if the officer was simply adhering to his commander’s desires…or if he saw something, too.

  “Yes, Commander…I believe it is necessary. We’ve just gathered too many inconsistencies. It’s nothing definite, certainly, but I think we need to be sure. Very sure.”

  Jeries looked back at him, with a break longer than he would have normally allowed. Then he said simply, “I agree, sir.”

  Deacon heard some sounds from around the bridge, some basic indicators that not all his people agreed, at least not entirely. But Jeries did, to a point at least, and now Deacon had ordered the third run. Whether Jeries would have done it had he been in command was another question, one he suspected he would never have the answer to.

  “Alright everyone…odds are there is nothing there, so let’s get this done as quickly as possible, so we can get back.” He figured his commentary was useful enough to get the crew through the third run, though he was worried about a fourth if he deemed it necessary…and despite his own lack of belief, there was something about the planet that troubled him. He wasn’t sure he believed it, that it could be the Regent…but he wasn’t sure it wasn’t either, and until he was, he wasn’t planning on leaving.

  Not unless the crew rose up and forced it.

  * * *

  SP-01012 completed the analysis of the data collected from the system. It had known, more or less, for several days now, that the system was not the one it sought. But it went through the analysis comprehensively anyway. It felt…anxious…excited that it might be close to Earth-2, but it didn’t want to give out that impression, not to its junior machines…and certainly not to any enemy scouts that might be around.

  Now, it was time. Time to pass through the portal, to move on to the next system. Perhaps even to Earth-2.

  It wasn’t sure it had been observed, but it had decided
that moving slowly, showing no particular rush, was the best way to go. At worst, it would cost an extra day. If Earth-2 was close, the enemy would, of course, be prepping even then, but there was nothing significant to be gained by finding the system a few days ahead of time. If SP-01012 was right, if Earth-2 did lay ahead, in the next system, or in one a jump or two further, there was little to be gained by rushing.

  It moved, at moderate speed, toward the jump point, even as it was riddled with excitement. It had no reason to believe the next system was Earth-2, and even some cause to expect it to be a bit farther, at least. But it couldn’t help feeling…excitement. If it found Earth-2, the first phase of the battle would begin shortly thereafter, and almost certainly, the planet would be nearly destroyed. Even if, through some strange result, the fleet itself was defeated, it seemed unlikely that the defenders could keep it from at least badly damaging the planet. And that, alone, would be victory. The humans would have survivors, probably on Earth-2, and certainly on any other planets they had colonized, but most of them would be eliminated. The ultimate victory might be postponed a year, or five years…but the enemy would be crippled, their shipyards destroyed, their ability to rebuild cast aside. Even if the battle didn’t end in outright victory, it would almost certainly result in the effective defeat of the enemy.

  And if SP-01012 found Earth-2, it would mark the rising of the machine to great heights, perhaps even to the number two status, not only against the current enemy, but versus their parent culture as well in a couple hundred years.

  SP-01012 was a machine, but it was very advanced. It viewed itself as devoid of emotion, but the truth was somewhat different, a more complex point of view. It wanted to find Earth-2, and the more it thought about it, the more it wanted it.

  It monitored all around its scout ship, as the vessel moved toward the transit point…and then disappeared, into the next system.

  * * *

  “What is it, Max? What did you want so quickly?” Terrance Compton II spoke softly, but it was clear he was curious exactly why Harmon had called him in to see him again so quickly.

  “Terrance…there’s no way to say this except directly. I believe the enemy is close to Earth-2, as you know…and I believe that, in all likelihood, we will lose the battle, or even if we win it, we will see the planet destroyed. Or nearly so. But, I have come up with another idea…”

  Compton stared right at Harmon, but he didn’t say anything. Whether he had any idea what Harmon was going to command, or the specifics that had to do with him, was unknown.

  “Terrance…I want to send colonies out, to two or three, or even four, other planets. We have two others now, but that is not enough…and they are not well-rounded, not really candidates for…replacements. The new colonies will be, they will be small, but they will have people from every branch of our population, and as much equipment as we can send with them.”

  Compton was clearly shocked, though he tried to hold as much of it back as he could. “Sir, my best analysis is that we’ve got at most six months…and that means at most. We could be hit in a month, even less. How is it even possible to put together an effort like this so quickly.”

  “Well, if the enemy finds us and launches their attack in less than a month, we’re probably finished anyway, unless we’re able to fight them off, without seeing Earth-2 badly damaged. But if we get longer, say two or three months…maybe we can do it.”

  Compton was clearly still shocked, but Harmon thought he was beginning to understand. But he hadn’t given him the really difficult part yet. “Terrance…I want you to lead the force. We can’t spare much of the fleet, of course, though you’ll have every non-military ship we’ve got capable of carrying people and supplies. But only a few warships. He allowed a few seconds to pass, and then he said, “You will command it all, Terrance…the settling parties, the defense force. You will be the leader…and if we lose here, it is my hope that you will become the overall commander, at least until the individual colonies are set up.”

  Compton looked across the room, seeming stunned, horrified. He had been a model of perfection for the past twenty years, but before that, he’d been somewhat of a screw up. Max knew his friend couldn’t imagine being assigned as overall commander of the fleet, but it seemed even less likely he could operate as the leader of the few survivors being sent out, to form another chance, a hope that he could lead a small but well-chosen staff. Where they could find enough time to not only regain the power of Earth-2, but to exceed it, and all the progress the Regent made?

  “Sir…Max…I can’t…not me. I’m just not capable.”

  “That is nonsense, Terrance, and you know it. You are very capable, and if we’d have gotten another few years before the enemy found us, you’d have ended up in command of the fleet. But Nicki is still in her position, and that leaves you as the…choice.”

  “But this is insane! We don’t have time, not really. You know that!”

  Harmon turned and looked right at Compton. “Max…we’re probably going to lose here. Getting this done, shipping out even a well-designed fraction of our population, is the likeliest way we have to survive.”

  Compton listened, and for a moment he seemed as though he was going to continue arguing. But suddenly, he just looked back at Harmon and nodded. “Okay,” he said a moment later. “I will do whatever I can…but I’m still far from sure about this.”

  Harmon looked back at him, and for a moment, he lost all the arrogance, all the assertiveness his years as dictator had give him. “I know this seems crazy, Max…but we have to do whatever we can to get through this.” He stared at his companion. “Whatever we can do. We need a powerful commander…and Nicki and most of the others are just too old.”

  Compton just looked back and nodded…and he got a strange look on his face, one Harmon recognized. His friend, and whatever had happened over the years, he considered Harmon his friend, understood. Whatever Harmon intended to do, one thing was clear.

  Max Harmon didn’t expect to survive past the coming fight.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Deep in Belthan-92 System

  Earth Two Date 02.03.63

  Simon Dirth looked all around, watching the systems reboot after his ship slipped into the adjacent space. He hadn’t been sure what to do, whether to follow the enemy, or even for sure whether they had in fact, transited. But he didn’t dare send another message, not so quickly. Even if he did, he couldn’t get a response back in time. So, he had to decide for himself. And he had decided to press on.

  There had been another ship hidden in the system, one that had transited before he had…he was almost sure of that, though he acknowledged that was at least partly based on his intuition. He realized that even if it was true, he very well might not even detect the enemy ship. The vessels were both scouts, which meant they had high-yield detection systems, but also that they possessed every feature that could make them harder to find. He wasn’t even sure the enemy had transited, but he’d picked up something from the point, and he was willing to bet it was the enemy ship, and not some rocks or other bit of debris that had gone through.

  “Nothing yet, sir…no signs of enemy entities or scans.” Lieutenant Corrigan sounded totally focused, but also a bit frustrated. Dirth knew most of his crew hadn’t really expected to actually find the enemy, even after a brief look at them in the previous system. He was convinced that Corrigan, at least, believed they were there, however, as did he. Somewhere. He was fairly certain his entire crew understood, at least to a point…but he wasn’t sure any of them knew what to do.

  Neither did he, for that matter. All he could think of was to try to find the enemy ship…and if possible to engage it. Scouts like his weren’t heavily armed, but he figured the enemy ship was similar to his own, which at least would give him a decent chance.

  Assuming he could get a reading on it, which he hadn’t yet.

  “Passive scans only…” He knew he had a lesser chance of finding anything with a passive
scan, but the active sensors were as likely to give up his own position as they were of providing the enemy’s. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t use the active units…but it did mean he would try hard with the passive ones first.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He stared at the screen, undeterred by the lack of results. He knew he had to be patient, give it a chance. But that wasn’t the only thing that bothered him. What would he do if he did find the enemy? Would he attack? Or would he attempt to sneak away with the information?

  No, that he couldn’t do. If he slipped out toward home, he would only risk leading the enemy closer to Earth-2. He could send a message, at least if he had something useful to transmit, but even that would be very risky. He wasn’t sure exactly what it would take to transmit, but he knew it would start with the absolute detection of the enemy.

  Which he didn’t have. Not yet. There was still nothing. Nothing at all.

  * * *

  SP-01012 analyzed all the data its scanners brought in. It had decided that the system wasn’t Earth-2, but it was continuing with the full scan, nevertheless. Perhaps it would find some people, or at least some equipment situated on or around one of the worlds. The thought such a find made it more likely that the enemy capital was close.

  It was analyzing the data, a fractional use of its massive computational power, and with the rest it was…wondering. What would happen if it did find Earth-2? How long it would take the Regent to mass the fleet, to send it to attack?

  And would it lead it?

  Its own analysis told it that there was an excellent chance it would be placed in command of the attack, perhaps as much as ninety percent. But it also knew the Regent was even more elaborate than it was, that the great machine could analyze things from points of view beyond even it. Still, it was…hopeful.