The Battle of Castle Nebula (The Cendrillon Cycle Book 1)

by Stephanie Ricker

  He could give her nothing. He could only hope that this didn’t damage his career irremediably. But more than that, he hoped Katrin was safe. He had to get her away. His chest was tight with dread again. He looked at Volkova mutely and shook his head.

  The ship groaned.

  Bruno was so caught up in his inner turmoil that the sound didn’t register the way it should have, but the captain’s face changed instantly, alerting him to the danger. She listened intently, and the deck beneath Bruno’s feet rumbled as the inertial dampeners kicked in.

  “Did we hit something?” he asked, steadying himself with a hand against the wall as the ship shuddered, almost imperceptibly.

  “Can’t have done, we’re still in drydock.” Volkova whirled and covered the distance to the office door in two long steps. She slapped the door controls, slid through it sideways before it was open all the way, and pulled her commlink from her pocket. “Bridge, report!”

  She sprinted down the corridor, and Bruno followed hard on her heels as the ship lurched again with an unholy shriek of cendrillon girders. Stars above, he would never complain about being bored again. This day was getting out of hand.

  The lieutenant on the other end of the connection sounded on the verge of panic. “Captain, multiple ships have entered the system and are attacking us!”

  Bruno had to admire Volkova’s presence of mind; there was no delay at all on her response. “What kind of ships? Why didn’t sensors see them coming?”

  “Sensors did! It’s the ore barges.”

  “Obviously not, if they’re firing on us,” Bruno muttered. They slewed around a corner at a reckless speed, and he put a hand on the bulkhead to slingshot himself around.

  “The ships were transmitting ID codes for a flotilla of ore barges,” Anfortas explained, speaking so fast that it took Bruno a moment to understand what he was saying. “They practically got within visual range before we—”

  “Never mind,” the captain interrupted. “We’ll figure out how they slipped past later. Warn Atthis that the docks are under attack, and send a message to Anser telling them to evacuate their construction shipyards immediately.”

  Presence of mind was one thing. This was something different. How did she know to evacuate Anser’s yards? The lieutenant had said nothing about an attack anywhere but on Atthis’ repair yards. Bruno’s eyes bored into Volkova, at the risk of missing his footing.

  “You knew,” he said. “You knew this was coming.”

  Fury, just barely kept in check, echoed in his quiet voice. He hadn’t truly believed that Volkova could be complicit in the Laika’s role in the Common Union’s plan. His trust in his captain to act in the best interests of the crew had outweighed Katrin’s suspicions. Until now.

  Now it was Volkova’s turn to avoid meeting his eyes. That told Bruno everything he needed to know.

  “Call the Sovereign and let them know our situation,” she told the lieutenant, and her voice was unsteady for the first time that Bruno could recall. “Shield status?”

  “Holding for the moment, but they’re heavily targeting the ships in the drydocks.”

  “Then we need to get out of the blasted drydock,” Volkova replied.

  “Working on it, ma’am. Three of the attacking ships have now opened fire on the facilities on the planet as well.”

  Bruno clenched his jaw to keep himself from speaking. And Katrin’s shuttle was heading back to the surface, right through that crossfire. Had she made it planetside yet? Even if she had, the docks on the surface would be a prime target. Terror gave him speed, and he outstripped Volkova unapologetically.

  He was almost to the bridge when Humphreys tore around the corner from the opposite direction, nearly running into him. Both men burst onto the bridge at the same time, Volkova just behind.

  “Docking clamps won’t disengage, ma’am,” said Lieutenant Anfortas, leaning to one side to call past the two men to his captain. “The way the drydocks are being pummelled, the release controls must be all shot to hell.” Again, Bruno had to concentrate to understand him; when Anfortas was nervous, he talked at lightspeed.

  Volkova moved swiftly to stand in front of her chair, and Humphreys hovered at her shoulder. Bruno crossed to the security officer station, displacing the crewmember already manning the station without a qualm. He might not be an officer by the end of the day, but right now there was no way he was leaving the bridge. He had to find a way to protect Katrin.

  “Show me what we’re dealing with,” Volkova ordered. The forward viewscreen changed to show the view from the aft cameras. At first, the sight was disorienting, a churning mass of motion and firepower. A swarm of vessels were amassed around the orbital repair yards, blasting the system of drydocks.

  Humphreys whistled long and low. “That’s not a few ships. That’s a fleet.” He turned to the captain in bafflement.

  “It’s the Demesne. They’re striking now to disable all of the Fleet’s ships in the repair yard,” Volkova said, her voice bleak.

  “And then they’ll destroy the facilities on the archipelago as well,” Bruno warned. Where Katrin would have docked. His skin itched with the urge to do something, anything, that might help her.

  “Send a distress call to all Fleet ships,” Volkova ordered. “We require immediate assistance from any and all vessels within range.”

  Anfortas complied, but he shook his head. “The Sovereign is the closest ship, and she’s still hours away. We’re showing several more contacts heading towards Anser.”

  Volkova muttered something in a language Bruno didn’t understand. Bruno looked at her questioningly. “Trouble never comes alone,” she translated. She gave him a look like one condemned.

  He turned away from her, using his panel to pull up the recent shuttle flight paths. Maybe he could find out exactly where Katrin was. He skimmed the records quickly. From what he could see, her shuttle hadn’t reported in at the planet before the conflict began. That didn’t mean much; if she made it down right before the chaos started, there might not have been time to log the arrival.

  Aghast, Humphreys turned to Volkova again as the situation finally dawned on him. “Of course, this is their chance to cripple our existing ships here being repaired and destroy those we have in construction. They’ll go for the Wilhelm first. We have to do something!”

  “Send another warning to Anser immediately,” Volkova ordered, “letting them know that the Demesne ships are headed their way. If they can clear out the Wilhelm, any other new ships under construction, and the planetside shipyards in time, they might save some lives.”

  “We’re not going to help them?” Humphreys asked.

  “What would you have me do?” she replied. “The Laika can’t stop an entire fleet, particularly not when she’s still in drydock.” She turned to the lieutenant. “Hail any ship in drydock that might still have functional weapons. See if they can get free.”

  “A few were about to leave when the enemy attacked, and it looks like they—” Anfortas interrupted himself as information scrolled across his panel. “Ma’am, response to our distress call from the Sovereign on the line.”

  A deep voice came over the comms. “Captain Tsarevich of the Sovereign. What’s your status?”

  Volkova described the situation as rapidly as possible. “We need you here now,” she said bluntly. “Where are you?”

  Tsarevich’s voice was heavy with regret. “Still on the other side of Castle Nebula, Captain. I’m sorry.”

  Volkova snorted. “Not as sorry as I am. It’ll take you hours to get around that mess. By the time you get here, it’ll all be over but the crying. Thanks anyway, Sovereign. Please notify the Common Union about our situation. I’m sure they’ll want to take action accordingly.”

  She’s talking about a formal declaration of war, Bruno thought. It’s started. And she knew it was coming the whole time.

  She killed the connection and opened the ship-wide comm. “All hands, evacuate the outer decks immediately. Sea
l all bulkheads.”

  Humphreys shook his head and crossed his arms. “No. Oh no, I know what you’re about to do. You can’t tear the ship free of the docking clamps.”

  “I don’t care if I rip her apart,” Volkova snarled. “Weapons systems are interior and will still be intact, even if we lose the outer decks. We need to defend the planetary facilities and hold the Demesne off as long as possible.”

  “Until what? No one’s coming to help us!”

  Volkova ignored him, turning to Anfortas. “Are the outer decks clear of personnel?”

  Humphreys shifted to remain in her line of sight. “Captain, you don’t understand. You physically cannot tear the ship free of the clamps; those clamps are tested to stand up to forces much greater than the Laika’s engines.”

  “I’m not going to tear us free.” An unholy light was in her gaze as she looked out at the carnage.

  “Outer decks are clear, Captain,” reported Anfortas.

  Humphreys narrowed his eyes. “Ruby, what are you doing?”

  She smiled wolfishly at Humphreys. Bruno repressed the urge to shudder. “Committing an atrocity.” She stood behind the weapons officer and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll take it from here.” The crewwoman moved aside, and Volkova adjusted the trajectory on the cannons herself. She fired at the drydock limbs clutching the Laika tightly within their grasp.

  The ship lurched ominously as chunks of drydock were blown away. Debris shot past the viewscreen.

  “Shields are dangerously low to be firing this close to the hull,” Bruno warned.

  “Are we free?” Humphreys asked.

  Lieutenant Anfortas shook his head. “The rear clamps are still holding.”

  “I’m well aware,” Volkova murmured. She adjusted the cannons again. “Drop the shields, Ensign.”

  Bruno stared at her.

  “Do it! Just for a second. Trust me, Lorengel.”

  His anger made it difficult to speak. “Trust you?” he asked, almost not recognizing his voice. His wife might be dead because of her. “You knew this was coming, and you did nothing.”

  She looked at him with something like a plea in her eyes, the glow from the Demesne blasts lighting her face. “I know, Lorengel. I’m sorry. We made a terrible mistake.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I made a terrible mistake. I didn’t mean for this to happen. But do as I ask this time, or we’ll be dead in a few minutes.”

  He clenched his jaw, dropping his gaze. “Aye, ma’am.” He lowered the shields.

  Volkova eased back a step behind her panel, unclenching a fist. He realized she would have physically knocked him out if he hadn’t complied. He should have known: Ruby Volkova would never plead.

  “Hold on,” she warned everyone. “This is going to hurt.”

  She fired on her own ship.

  Bruno had braced himself, but it didn’t help. The ship was yanked around as if by a giant’s hand, and inertial dampeners couldn’t begin to compensate for the spin. Bruno’s face slammed into the panel in front of him, and he must have lost consciousness for just a few seconds. When he became aware of his surroundings again, someone was screaming in pain somewhere off to his right, and Humphreys was screaming at Volkova.

  “Stars, Ruby, what the bloody hell?” Under the spasmodically flickering bridge lights, Humphreys’ face looked unnaturally twisted. Alarms blared in uneven counterpoint, but his voice pierced the racket. “Do you realize what you’ve done? You’ve just blown away your space sails. We can’t even run!”

  Volkova looked ghastly, face deathly pale and a trickle of blood dripping from her nose. “I never intended to run,” she gritted out from between clenched teeth. “Someone get the pilot to sickbay,” she tossed over her shoulder. The weapons officer Bruno had displaced picked herself up off the floor and ran to the injured pilot, who had apparently been hurled partway across the bridge to smack into a bulkhead. She clearly had a broken leg, Bruno could see—and worse, judging by her reaction.

  Volkova was leaning heavily on the weapons panel. “We still have weapons and sublight drive, and that’s all we need,” she said to Humphreys. “Kill all running lights. I want us to look as dead as possible.” She eyed the readouts. “Won’t take much in the way of acting.”

  She glanced at the empty pilot’s station, then nodded at Bruno. “Lorengel, you’re the new pilot. Take us out, Ensign, but make it look as though we’re drifting. I want you to maneuver us as close as you can to one of the ships pummeling Atthis.”

  Humphreys threw his hands in the air.

  “Quit flailing and monitor the shields, Isambard,” Volkova said in a voice like splintering wood.

  It was a testament to the designer’s sense of self-preservation, hitherto undemonstrated, that he took the station without complaining about the order.

  Bruno slid into the pilot’s station and stared at the controls, forcing himself to focus. He doubted they were going to survive this, but if Katrin were still alive down on the planet, taking out a ship or two might keep her unharmed. His days of mandatory cross-training in piloting seemed very long ago indeed. He carefully steered the wounded ship out of the remains of the drydock, trying to match their drift to the angle of some of the larger chunks of floating debris.

  Volkova wiped her nose with the back of a hand, leaving a smear of blood across her cheek. “A history lesson for you, Isambard,” she said as they all watched the ship in the viewscreen grow larger. The markings were undeniably Demesne. “Do you know where the name Laika comes from?”

  “Is this really the time for this, Ruby?”

  “You think we’ll have a better one?” she asked with a sardonic tilt of the head. “Laika was the name of the first animal to orbit Earth. One of the most powerful countries of the time sent her into space hundreds of years ago. She became something of a hero in her day—a little dog from the streets of a city called Moscow, one of the first animals ever to escape the atmosphere.”

  Humphreys eyed her warily. “And what happened to her?”

  “She died in space,” Volkova said flatly. “She was never expected to survive the mission, but she played an essential role in early exploration.”

  “Don’t quit your day job, Ruby. You’d make a terrible teller of bedtime stories.”

  Her reply was so quiet that Bruno could barely hear it over the alarms. “We were never supposed to survive,” she told the designer.

  “What are you talking about?” Humphreys asked. His glance flicked to Bruno briefly. “I get the feeling there’s more going on here than I know, and I’m not used to being the one kept in the dark.”

  “The Common Union knew of the possibility of an attack on the Avis system,” Volkova answered as her vessel continued its slow-motion careen towards the Demesne ship. “The Laika was given the very best in sensor capability. We were supposed to sniff out any attack long before it reached the Avis system. An unprovoked attack on the shipyards would be reason enough for us to go to war with the Demesne, and a frigate always stayed within a day’s sail to come to our aid. Casualties were expected to be light. Just enough to motivate.” Her mouth twisted, but it was not a smile. “Our advance warning would give everyone time to evacuate the yards, and if a Fleet sloop was lost in the fight before the frigate arrived…well. Sacrifices must be made.”

  “Except the Demesne attack wasn’t coming quickly enough for the Common Union’s liking,” Bruno interjected, not taking his eyes from the panel in front of him. “We needed access to the cendrillon now, didn’t we? So the Union attacked Demesne forces on the Periphery.” He gestured with his head towards the screen without looking up. “This is the Demesne’s retaliation.”

  Volkova turned to stare at him. “What? We haven’t attacked Demesne forces.”

  Bruno laughed mirthlessly. A trickle of sweat itched as it made its way between his shoulder blades, and his head ached from where it had hit the panel, but he was barely aware of both sensations. “Oh yes, we have, Captain. The Union doesn’t tell its
little dog everything, evidently.”

  “Watch yourself, Ensign,” Volkova growled. “You’re very free with your mouth for someone with a Fleet discharge pending. I’ll want to hear where you got your information when this is over.” She added, “And take it easy, that’s close enough.”

  Bruno tapped the braking thrusters lightly, slowing the ship. One of the Demesne vessels was close enough to fill the viewscreen.

  “Brace yourselves,” Volkova said. She fired all cannons into the Demesne ship, hammering through its shields and peeling back a section of hull.

  The result was immediate. Two of the other Demesne ships within range broke off their attack on the planet and began pounding the Laika while two of the remaining ships continued to bombard Atthis.

  “Great idea, Ruby,” Humphreys commented. “All you’ve done is make them angry.”

  “Shut up,” she replied without rancor. “It’s a start.”

  “It’s about to be the end,” the designer retorted. He waved a hand at the shield display in front of him. “We have about two minutes before these give out.”

  A proximity alarm went off. The viewscreen was using magnification, so when something massive swooped in from space-side, it filled everyone’s vision before the silvery object could be identified.

  The Sovereign blasted into the Atthis region, laying waste to one of the Demesne ships firing on the planet. Pieces of the Demesne vessel sprayed across the starfield. A large chunk of the engines pinwheeled past the Laika, close enough that Bruno ducked automatically.

  Humphreys gaped. “How is that possible?”

  The commline sparked to life as the frigate continued to pummel the Demesne ship. “Laika, status report?” inquired the voice of Captain Tsarevich.

  “Alive, Captain, though not entirely in one piece, and shields are sputtering. Most of the ships that were in drydock didn’t fare so well, though we think a few managed to get away. Glad you could make it on such short notice.” Volkova sounded a little dazed. “Not sure how you managed it, but we’ll be sure to send engraved invitations before the next shindig.”