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

by Stephanie Ricker

  Lies tapped her fingers on her panel in impatience, realized she was doing so, and stopped herself. “We can’t wait any longer. We’ll have to take her out.”

  The crewman stared at her. “How? None of us are Fleet trained.”

  Lies smirked. “Have you met some of those pompous Fleet officers? If they can do it, we can do it.” She turned from the crewman, and the smirk fell from her face as soon as he could no longer see her. This was a terrible idea. Fleet officers trained for years to fly a frigate.

  She hadn’t even made it to the door when the Wilhelm shuddered like a wildekreet shaking a snowfly from its hide. The Demesne was making its arrival known. Lies clutched the nearest bulkhead, trying to keep her feet. “Definitely out of time,” she muttered. She turned to the room at large again.

  “Anyone here have any experience in sailing Fleet ships?” Silence met her question. “All right, does anyone here have experience sailing any type of large vessel?”

  The crewwoman from before raised her hand again. “I did a stint flying ore barges a few years ago.”

  Lies grinned in her best imitation of Helias. “Congratulations, you’ve just become the pilot for the Galactic Fleet’s newest ship. Anyone with weapons experience?”

  No response to that one, unsurprisingly. She chose a crewmember at random. “You, you’re about to get it. Come with me to the bridge.”

  “Do the cannons even work yet?” the crewman asked.

  “We’re about to find out.” She pointed to the crewman who seemed to know something about shields. “We’re definitely going to need you. What’s the quickest way to the bridge?”

  That, the yard employees knew. The four of them hastened to the lifts. Lies willed the mechanism to move faster as the Wilhelm yawed again, groaning. “Hold together, sweetheart,” she murmured.

  The crewmembers in the lift with her looked like they were about to vomit from fear. She needed to get them to pull themselves together. What would Helias do in this situation?

  “So, ore barge pilot?” she asked the crewwoman who had raised her hand. The woman nodded, her eyes wide. “What’s your name?”

  “Berna.”

  Lies flashed her a smile. “Pleased to meet you, Berna.” She looked at her new weapons officer. “And you?”

  “Mark.”

  “Hope you’re a good marksman, Mark.” She grinned. Helias would be proud of that one. “That was terrible, I know. And you?” she asked the crewman who had been on the shields. He seemed the most undisturbed of the three, she noted. She could use that.

  “Covault,” he said. “Nice to meet you, but wish I weren’t.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “Likewise, Covault.”

  The lift doors slid open, and all four of them sprinted the short distance to the empty bridge.

  Lies had only been on the Wilhelm’s bridge a handful of times, and it had always been full of activity on those occasions. It looked abandoned now, and far too cavernous.

  “Berna, pilot’s station,” she said, pointing to the chair. “Take a look and see if you can figure out how to make her fly. Mark, power up those weapons we’re not supposed to have, if you can manage it. Covault, boost the shields as high as they’ll go. Take power from wherever you need it. And run a damage report, if you have a minute.”

  She walked to the center of the bridge, hovering behind the captain’s chair. She considered sitting in it but couldn’t quite bring herself to do so. She stood behind it, her hands on the chair back. There, no one could see them shaking.

  “Are the drydock clamps released?” She asked without much hope of it being so.

  “Yup,” Covault said. “I took care of that while we were in engineering.”

  Lies’ mouth opened in surprise. “Wow. Great, that’s…perfect.”

  “And anyway, it looks like that last hit blew most of the drydock away,” Covault said, gesturing at the viewscreen. A chunk of a drydock arm drifted past.

  “Okay.” Lies flexed her fingers on the back of the chair. “Berna, can you get us out? Any heading out of the system.” She didn’t care where the Wilhelm ended up, so long as it was away from here. They could sort things out once the ship was safe.

  Berna frowned at the controls with an intensity that would have been amusing, given different circumstances. “I think so. Giving it a try now.”

  The ship groaned again as it took another hit. Lies clutched the chair back in a death grip.

  “Sooner would be better,” Mark murmured.

  “You want to come over here and try this?” Berna retorted. Lies was glad to see the spark of temper: anger would leave less room for fear. Mark put his hands up in surrender.

  “Mark, can you target the ship that’s firing on us to give us more time?” Lies asked.

  He made a face. “Yeah, I think I’ve got it?”

  His reply sounded more like a question than a statement, but she couldn’t wait around for anything more definite. “Fire when you can,” she said softly.

  The Wilhelm’s cannons blasted, and while only part of the spread hit its intended target, it was enough to convince the targeted Demesne ship to leave off firing and take evasive action.

  Covault whooped.

  “Well done, Mark!” Lies said, and her smile felt genuine for the first time since she stepped aboard. “We’ll make a gunner of you yet.”

  “Um,” Covault said, looking at his panel. “Not to spoil the mood, but we need to get out of here. Two more ships are coming about in retaliation, and our shields have taken quite a few hits.”

  Lies looked at her pilot. “Berna?”

  “Engaging the sublight drive now.” Her hands had steadied, Lies noticed with approval. She wished she could say the same for her own.

  The Wilhelm pulled out of the remains of the drydock and swooped slowly around the yards, searching for the safety of deep space.

  As they pulled away from Anser, Lies deliberately unclenched her fingers from the chair back. They might just make it out. She dared to think ahead more than a few minutes, running though their options. Should they attempt to signal other Union ships? Perhaps some had escaped Atthis and were reforming elsewhere. She didn’t want to risk pulling more Demesne vessels down on their heads, though.

  “Hold on!” Covault shouted. The words had hardly left his mouth when the ship plunged abruptly. The lights flickered out entirely, then back on as alarms echoed around the bridge.

  “Evasive action!” Lies snapped. Berna struggled to comply. “Mark, hit them with whatever we have.” So much for their escape.

  “Aft shields are at quarter power,” Covault warned. “We were hit by the other two ships at the same time.”

  “Damage?” Lies asked.

  Berna made a frustrated noise. “The helm is sluggish. They hit something important, I think.” She shook her head as the Wilhelm wheeled slowly. Another hit. “It’s getting worse. The rudder must be bleeding power.” Oddly enough, Lies thought her voice was steadier now that they were actually under fire.

  “Two of the ships have broken off pursuit,” Covault said. “They think just one can polish us off?” He sounded vaguely insulted.

  “They’re probably not wrong. We’re not much of a threat right now. The other two have gone back to the planet,” Mark said grimly. He shook his head as he eyed the panel in front of him. “They’ve resumed the attack on Cygnus.”

  “What do you want to do?” Covault asked Lies. “We can try to run, but it’s doubtful we can outrun the Demesne ships with our reduced navigation abilities. Once they’re finished with the planet, they’ll come find us.”

  Once they’re finished with the planet. Don’t think about Helias and Elsa right now. Just don’t. Lies closed her eyes to consider. She didn’t want to see Covault looking at her expectantly, as if she could manufacture a solution to this hideous problem. “How are the cannons, Mark?” she asked.

  He made a face. “Operational?”

  “I’d love it if you c
ould answer a question without making it sound like another question,” Covault said with a testy edge to his voice.

  Mark ignored him. “They’re working, I’m just not sure how smart it is to be firing with our own shields so low, and I’m still figuring out the guidance systems. I can’t promise every shot will hit,” he warned.

  “Good enough for me,” Lies said, making her decision and opening her eyes. “Berna, bring us about, if you can. They’re not going to finish off Anser as long as the Wilhelm can still fly.”

  “We’re not running?” Covault asked. He didn’t sound surprised.

  “We are not,” Lies said briskly. Wilhelm be damned. Whatever her orders, her true duty was to the planet and its inhabitants.

  “Good,” he said bluntly. “Didn’t really feel right about that.”

  “Me neither,” she said, feeling the tight panicky feeling in her chest finally loosen. “Mark, wait until we’re close to fire. When you can’t miss, give it all you’ve got.”

  “We’re going to look like a staggering wildekreet,” Berna complained as she wrestled with the helm. “Even the ore barge handled better than this.”

  The Wilhelm completed its turn, slewing slightly to one side.

  “Just get us pointed in the right direction and punch it,” Lies told her. “Doesn’t have to be classy.”

  Berna corrected their course. “Giving you all the speed the sublight can handle,” she said.

  Lies leaned over the arm of the captain’s chair to tap the commline wired into its armrest and spoke on the ship-wide channel, striving for a calm but urgent tone. “Attention, all crew aboard the Wilhelm. Evacuate the ship immediately. Make your way to the lifeboats and launch. Get clear of the fight as soon as you can.”

  She looked around the bridge. The other three were all watching her. “There’s nothing the rest of them can do,” she explained, “and three ships against one…” She trailed off. They could understand the situation as clearly as she could. “We can try to rig some sort of system for me to control everything, if you want to leave…?”

  Covault snorted and looked back at his panel. “I’m not dignifying that with a response. I’m comfy here.”

  After a pause, Mark said softly, “I’ll stay.”

  Berna’s gaze dropped. Just when Lies thought she was going to get up and leave the bridge, she looked up again and met Lies’ eyes. “I’m staying,” she said, clearly speaking past a lump in her throat.

  Lies smiled and took a shaky breath. None of them were cracking. Somehow that meant that she couldn’t either. The trick was not to think too much, she told herself.

  The Wilhelm charged towards the ships firing on the planet, the third Demesne ship trailing after them.

  “I’m rerouting power to the aft shields,” Covault said quickly. “I have a feeling they’re—yeah, that’s what I thought.” Another alarm went off as the Demesne ship fired at the Wilhelm’s rear. “I’ve spread out the power as best I can,” he continued, “but we’re looking at twenty-three percent overall shielding.”

  The other two Demesne vessels had completely destroyed the orbital shipyards and had moved to the edge of the atmosphere to pound the surface of Anser mercilessly. So much debris littered the area around the planet that Lies wondered if the other ships were even aware of the Wilhelm’s approach. They certainly didn’t deviate from their task at hand as the frigate sailed closer and closer.

  “Mark, what do you think?” she asked. “Close enough?”

  “Yes,” he said emphatically, with a glance at Covault.

  “Concentrate your fire on the closest ship for now; let’s not spread out our efforts too much. I’d rather destroy one than annoy two,” Lies said.

  Mark nodded. “Here we go.” The Wilhelm’s cannons were unleashed on the nearest target.

  “Their dorsal shield is weakening,” Covault said, and Lies could hear both excitement and hope in his voice. “See if you can focus the fire power there.”

  Mark grimaced, tweaking the sights. His shirt was soaked with sweat. The cannons punched through the shields, and the second ship maneuvered around its companion to attack the Wilhelm.

  “Why doesn’t the first one move away?” Berna asked, frowning in puzzlement.

  Lies eyed the other vessel. “We must have damaged their propulsion,” she said. “I’m not real familiar with Demesne shipbuilding, but I’m guessing their sublight is out. Finish them off, Mark.”

  The Wilhelm fired again, taking out a chunk of the Demesne ship’s hull. The enemy vessel stopped firing and drifted, tilting gradually towards the planet as Anser’s gravity took hold of it.

  “Target the second ship,” Lies gritted out, almost knocked off her feet as the Wilhelm took another hit.

  “Shields are down to seventeen percent,” Covault warned.

  The two remaining Demesne ships were concentrating all of their fire on the Wilhelm, having left off their attack on Anser completely. Lies knew the situation was rapidly coming to a close. The Wilhelm couldn’t last much longer. Don’t think, don’t think. She kept her voice even.

  “Pick whichever’s easiest to hit,” she told Mark. “Go ahead and empty the cannons; no need to keep anything in reserve.”

  “Happily,” Mark said, and opened fire again. He managed to crack open one ship, disabling it even as the second one continued to batter the Wilhelm. No one cheered.

  An instant later, Covault cried, “We’ve lost the shields!”

  The next hit tumbled the Wilhelm end over end. Inertial dampeners rumbled in an attempt to compensate, but the bridge crew was flung off their feet nonetheless. An ominous whine filled the air as the ship tried to right itself.

  “That’s it, we’ve completely lost navigation,” Berna said, throwing her hands in the air. “I have no control left at all.”

  Already close to the planet’s atmosphere, Wilhelm tipped forward towards Anser. The front of the ship blazed as it made its entry into the upper atmospheric layers.

  Without shields, there was no way they would survive entering the atmosphere.

  “Any chance of getting shields back up?” Lies asked Covault quietly.

  He shook his head. “None. We’re barely holding together. Won’t for long,” he said.

  Anser loomed large in the viewscreen. Lies frowned as the planet grew larger by the second. Judging by their angle, the Wilhelm was going to hit near the equatorial region, dangerously close to Cygnus. A ship the size of the Wilhelm could do considerable damage to the city if it hit in the wrong place. Could it even hit Gahmuret?

  She set her jaw. Unacceptable. She wouldn’t allow it. She knew how pretentious the thought was—as if she could tell fate what was and was not permitted—but she didn’t care. They weren’t going to wreck the planet they’d just worked so hard to preserve, and they were not, were not going to hit anywhere near Helias and Elsa.

  She would not allow it.

  “Alter our trajectory,” she ordered.

  “There’s nothing I can do,” Berna said wildly, panic ratcheting up her voice. Lies could see she was on the verge of losing her head completely. “We’re going to crash!”

  There wasn’t time for this. “Obviously we’re going to crash,” Lies snapped, pushing Berna out of the way so that she could use her panel herself. “But there is something we can do.”

  They were already in the atmosphere, and the controls were indeed entirely unresponsive. Fortunately, she didn’t need them. She overloaded the propulsion drive, sending whatever shreds of energy the ship had left through systems not designed to handle such large amounts of power. She should know: she designed the systems. She robbed energy from everything, including life support, and watched the levels build as alarm after alarm sounded on the bridge.

  The resulting explosion blew out the Wilhelm’s propulsion drive with a jolt and wrenched the ship around as it fell through Anser’s sky. Lies picked herself up off the floor, checking the displays on the pilot’s panel as she ignored the ache
from a badly wrenched wrist. Berna was out cold from the impact. The explosion had altered their trajectory enough. The ship would crash into the snowfields, missing Cygnus and Gahmuret by several miles.

  Lies leaned on the captain’s chair, watching through the viewscreen as her home planet approached with astounding speed. Cendrillon under too much pressure screamed as the atmosphere burned the Wilhelm’s shieldless hull.

  Covault left his station and stood next to her. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Good job,” he said quietly.

  She smiled, though it was a toss-up whether she would cry instead. “Thanks. You too.”

  She could make out the city of Cygnus off to their left, but Gahmuret was too small to be seen. Finally, finally, she allowed herself to think of Helias and Elsa. Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes. Could her family see her fall? She hoped not.

  Anser seemed to reach up to meet them. The white-blue of the snowfields filled the entire viewscreen. Lies didn’t close her eyes.

  “We need to move the battle lines,” Volkova declared, “while there’s anything left of Atthis.”

  Stricken, Bruno stared through the viewscreen at the devastation on the surface of the tropical planet. Though the Laika was still above the atmosphere, the ship was close enough that, with the viewscreen magnification, he could see the smoke and flame drifting over the archipelago. Where was Katrin?

  The Sovereign blasted its cannons again and again as the frigate dodged and spun in a startling demonstration of agility. Bruno watched without seeing, preoccupied with worry and with trying to maintain control of the ship as he wrestled the Laika into taking evasive action.

  “I have an idea,” Tsarevich declared over the commline.

  “Care to share this time?” Volkova asked.

  Tsarevich missed the heavy sarcasm. “Not sure if it’ll work. Stand by. Oh, and get as far away from us as you can. I might burn out the sails.”

  Volkova frowned in puzzlement, but she gave the order to back the Laika off. Bruno struggled and sweated at the controls, trying to move the lame, uncooperative ship to a safe distance…safe from what, he had no idea.