The Last Stand

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The Last Stand Page 7

by Jay Allan


  “I am certain he will be relieved to hear that, Grand Admiral Tesserax, but I will have to send your words back by communique. My orders are to remain here, and assist you in any way possible.”

  “I do not need a minder!” Tesserax’s control faltered for an instant, but he regained his composure almost immediately. “It is not necessary that you remain, Seliax.”

  “It is indeed necessary, Grand Admiral, if for no other reason than the Supreme Leader wills it. My instructions leave no room for latitude.”

  Tesserax still looked uncomfortable, but he bowed his head and said simply, “All hail Ellerax, First of the Firstborn, Supreme Leader of the Domains.”

  “All hail Ellerax, First of the Firstborn, Supreme Leader of the Domains.” Seliax repeated Tesserax’s words, obeying the forms, as the admiral had.

  * * *

  “All forces are to proceed to designated jump points, and assume their specified positions. The combined fleets will jump in precisely thirty-four hours, and launch simultaneous assaults on the Hegemony capital world. ” Tesserax sat in the middle of S’Argevon’s main control center, his elevated platform placing him above the main deck. He had initially planned to approach the Hegemony home system more slowly, allow additional time to scout and to plan his attack with more meticulous attention to detail. But Seliax’s arrival placed pressure on him. He didn’t dare show a lack of confidence in front of her, appear to be intimidated by an enemy his superiors on the Command Council considered weak and outmatched.

  Still, he was nervous, uncertain, and it took considerable effort to hide it. He had been surprised by the ferocity with which the humans had fought, and he was anxious to force the decisive battle before Ellerax and the high command could change their minds and withdraw the heavy frontline units he’d been given.

  The heavy battleships would be a surprise to the enemy, certainly, and Tesserax was sure they would give him sufficient strength to prevail. Perhaps more crucially, he was far from certain he could successfully complete the conquest without the reinforcements. At least not without suffering crippling losses.

  He didn’t know if the enemy would fight to the end, if the war, against the Hegemony at least, would end at Calpharon, or if the humans would give up their capital and pull back what surviving forces they could. But he knew he had to inflict as much damage as possible. He would lose the large battleships eventually, that was almost a certainty. The instant things heated up in the main theater, the heavy forces would be withdrawn…and he wanted to be facing a heavily degraded human force by then. He had considerable power under his command just then, and he was determined to make the best use of it while he could. One more reason to avoid any delay.

  He stared out across the control center. The room was filled with Thralls, primitive humans. The Thralls had originally been much like those facing his forces, but generations of captivity and farm-breeding had allowed the quality of the stock to wither. The flagship’s crew was atypical, drawn from the very best, but across the Domain’s vast military establishment, the decline in quality had become problematic. That was one reason Tesserax had been in the forefront of the movement to initiate the invasion and subjugation of the surviving free humans immediately.

  There were other motives as well, of course. His victory would almost certainly lead to his desired appointment as sector governor, and then he could see to the harvesting of fresh humans to fill the ranks of the Thralls. He would not make the mistakes of the past, reducing the spirited, wild humans to passive and caged farm animals. The Domains needed soldiers to feed the war machine, and the Highborn needed worshippers who could serve, not useless and pathetic followers who were little more than pets. He would crush the civilizations present on the human worlds, of course, and reduce their populations to scattered, warring groups. But he would not cage them. Their constant infighting and struggles to survive on shattered worlds would maintain their abilities, and enhance the quality of the gene pool as only the strongest and most capable survived and bred.

  Operations were running smoothly, on the flagship, and a check on his displays showed it was the same across the fleet. Most of the Thralls assigned to naval duty were well broken, trained to obey and to respect those who were as gods to them. But they all wore the Collars as well, the surgical implants that assured blind obedience. Many others showed signs of different enhancements, various mechanical and electronic devices protruding from their bodies, and aiding in the completion of their assigned tasks. S’Argevon’s Thralls, especially those posted to control room duty, were of the highest order of ability, though to Tesserax and his brethren, they were still little above mindless animals. They served a purpose, but the place they had once held in the universe during the apex of the old empire, had been taken by their betters.

  “Great Tesserax, all scanner reports are clear. No sign of any enemy forces, but…”

  “But? Speak. I would hear your thoughts.”

  “Great Tesserax, there are extensive asteroid fields in this system, as well as a number of massive dust clouds. It is impossible to complete a thorough and reliable sensor sweep without launching a large array of probes and waiting until they can…”

  “No.” Tesserax’s voice was loud, the single word he’d uttered definitive.

  “Yes, Great Tesserax, as you command.”

  Tesserax showed no doubt in front of the Thralls, no hesitation. Such would be unthinkable. But he knew the human officer was correct. Under normal circumstances, he would never rush through the system and into battle in the next, not without scanning every cubic meter of space between his fleet and its destination. But he didn’t have the time. It had taken far too long for his request for reinforcements to be approved by Ellerax, and for the additional ships to reach his theater of operations. There was simply no more room for delay. If he did not show he was making good use of the frontline units, he would certainly lose them that much sooner.

  A thought passed through his mind, vague and transitory, a realization that the Thrall had given wise counsel. For an instant, he wondered if he should speak, should praise the human, even explain why he had rejected the officer’s advice.

  But only for an instant. His mind quickly scoffed at the thought of giving praise to a Thrall for offering nothing more than an obvious suggestion, and even more forcefully, at the insane notion that he would explain anything to a Thrall. The humans existed to serve and to worship. Their continued existence was sufficient sign of Highborn favor.

  Still, Tesserax felt nervous, edgy. He was confident his forces could take the enemy capital, but he was a little worried about the losses they might suffer. He usually didn’t care about such trivialities, but it would be difficult to explain heavy casualties, particularly among the main battleline units. The humans had limited technology and ability, but he was rushing his own attack, sacrificing the meticulous care he usually put into everything he did.

  There is no point to worry. There is no choice, nothing to be gained by excess concern. It is time to fight the climactic battle, the crush the humans.

  The Hegemony was by far the strongest of the Rim and Near Rim polities. Once they were crushed, the others would surely fall in turn. Whether the entire enemy force was annihilated in the next several days, or some battered force limped away, the war would, for all intents and purposes, end at Calpharon.

  And the Domains would enjoy a massive influx of Thralls, billions upon billions of fresh and energetic humans to fill the ranks.

  * * *

  Yes, come…come this way.

  Jake Stockton watched the enemy ships approaching. He didn’t have any detailed analysis, only the limited information his passive scanners could provide, but even that had twisted his guts into knots, and turned the inside of his survival suit into a sweat-soaked mess. He had come up with the idea, the plan now underway, and he had fought to sell it to Admiral Barron. The admiral understood as well as Stockton himself did, just how dangerous, how utterly insane an operation
it was. The odds were long, and the likelihood of more than a token of the committed force escaping back to Calpharon’s system seemed almost nil. But the overall situation was no less desperate than Stockton’s wild scheme…and if the enemy continued on their current line of approach, and didn’t pause to initiate a more detailed scanning operation, it was just possible those losses would not be in vain.

  Stockton knew his wings faced a nightmare in the coming battle, no matter how they were deployed. They had no way to hurt the Highborn save to close to point blank range. The enemy’s strange hulls, and their ships’ use of Sigma-9 energy waves, made securing long-range firelocks almost impossible, at least for a vessel as small as a bomber. Some progress had been made on the heavier vessels, adjustments to their large and powerful scanner arrays to compensate and improve locking capabilities. But a bomber was too small to carry the equipment needed, and that left only one choice…coming in to knife-fighting range.

  Right through volleys of the enemy’s deadly new cluster missiles.

  Stockton hadn’t solved that problem, at least not on an ongoing basis. But he’d come up with a gamble, a way to launch at least one truly devasting attack on the Highborn fleet. If everything worked just right.

  So far, it all seemed to be going just as he’d hoped. If the enemy continued on without pausing for intensive scans, if all his ships remained hidden in the asteroid fields, if no errant energy leak or a single pilot’s carelessness gave them away…then just maybe, he’d give the Highborn invaders a surprise, and one hell of a rough handling. He still wasn’t sure how many of his ships would escape after, but if they could offer up some damaged and battered enemy ships to their comrades waiting in Sigma Nordlin, it would be worth almost any sacrifice. All the more so because his wings would be gutted wherever they fought. If his people were going to die—if he was going to die—he was determined that it would be for something.

  He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment as his mind counted down. Twenty more minutes until the enemy closed to the attack point. It wasn’t long by objective standards, but he could remember some similar time periods that dragged on interminably. He suspected those old memories were due for an upgrade, and he girded himself to endure a wait that looked to feel like an eternity.

  Nineteen minutes, forty seconds…and each instant was passing almost like a lifetime, his stomach tightening a bit more every time the chronometer blinked off another second.

  Chapter Nine

  Alliante Parish

  Planet Sebastiani, Alexara III

  Year 323 AC (After the Cataclysm)

  “Your home is beautiful, Sy, truly. I am very happy you ended up someplace so quiet and peaceful.” Andi was being completely honest, at least about the beauty of Sy’s surroundings. Alliante Parish was a magnificent display of nature’s magnificence, gentle rolling hillsides covered with grapes and olives, with half a dozen small rivers winding through its forty thousand square kilometers. Sy’s house was small, but it appeared more than comfortable for her needs, and the patch of nearly one hundred hectares of land surrounding it was nothing short of paradise.

  Andi was relieved that her friend had found the peace and solitude she’d left to seek, though she knew the truth was far more complex. Calmness of surroundings were all well and good, but the fact that Vig knew of at least four places Sy had lived since leaving Nightrunner suggested that true inner peace had proven rather elusive. Nightmares came regardless of trees and streams and gentle breezes.

  Andi understood that. She had everything, by almost anyone’s standards, at least she had before Tyler had been compelled to leave for a new war, but she’d never shaken the demons, the cold darkness from her past that still haunted her. She woke up some nights drenched in sweat, shouting out until she realized she wasn’t in some ancient imperial ruin or Sector Nine torture cell. Some wounds simply never healed. Andi had finally accepted that, and in that realization she had found peace of a sort. But she found it more difficult to extend that same rational analysis to others she cared about.

  “Thank you, Andi.” Sylene stood about a meter away, and even as she spoke, she stepped forward and hugged Andi again. Her friend’s affection both eased and inflamed her inner turmoil. She was happy to see Sy well, and grateful for the apparent lack of resentment toward her, but the guilt was still there, digging at her with the constant reminder that she hadn’t even bothered to check to see where Sy was all these years.

  “It is wonderful to see you. Those days on Nightrunner were some of the best of my life…” Sy stepped back, and her face darkened somewhat. “…and the worst. We lost some good friends back then. Sometimes, I still can’t believe Captain Lorillard is gone. I wake up and for a few seconds, I think I’m back on the ship, that he’s just down the corridor.”

  Andi felt the words slicing into her like a blade. Captain Lorillard had given her a chance when no one else would. For all the difficulty and struggle she’d faced in her life, she knew she’d been fortunate to encounter some extraordinary people. The captain had definitely been one of those.

  “I miss the captain, too, Sy. He was an amazing person, and he died far too young.” Andi looked down at the floor for a few seconds, but then she regrouped and remembered why she had come. “Sy, I wish I could say I was here for a long overdue visit with an old friend, but I can’t. I need your help with something.”

  “Of course, Andi…I’ll do anything I can. What is it?”

  Andi reached into the small sack she’d carried slung over her back. She pulled the old folio out and set it down on a table half a meter from where she was standing. “I found this, Sy. On a mission. After you’d left the ship. It’s a set of data chips…imperial data chips. I think they were well-preserved when I found them, but we had a bit of a scrap trying to get out of the system, and I’m afraid they got a heavy dose of radiation. I took them to someone I knew on Dannith, and he couldn’t retrieve any of the data. But he wasn’t you, Sy. Not even close.”

  “It’s been a long time, Andi. I barely touch computers these days, and I haven’t tried to hack my way into anything since…well, since I left Nightrunner.” A pause. “But I’ll try. Give me a couple days. You’re welcome to stay if you’d like. The place isn’t huge, but I do have a couple pf spare bedrooms.”

  “I appreciate the invitation, Sy, but I’ve got to get back to the ship.”

  “That’s right. Vig told me you were a mother now. Cassiopeia, right? Is she here, on Sebastiani?”

  “Yes, she’s on the ship. That’s why I have to get back. But I’ll leave all this with you.”

  “I’ll get on this right away, Andi. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see if I can extract at least something. Radiation damage can be tough, but imperial chips have sophisticated shielding. There’s a good chance I’ll be able to get some data. Call it 50-50.”

  “Thank you so much, Sy.”

  “My pleasure, Andi. My mind’s been idle for too long. This will be good for me.” A pause, and then she hugged Andi for a third time. “And it is good to see you, old friend.”

  “It is good to see you, too.” Andi tightened her own grip on her friend, even as a single tear escaped from her eye.

  * * *

  “She’s beautiful, Andi. I can’t believe you’re a mother. No offense, but I doubt any of us who knew you back in the day would have predicted this.”

  Andi managed a thin smile. “I don’t think anyone could have predicted the road I’ve traveled, both for good and ill. But here I am. And here is Cassiopeia.”

  “And you’re married to Tyler Barron…the Tyler Barron. The hero of the Union War and the Hegemony War.”

  “Yes, I’m very fortunate in that. Something else I imagine was unpredictable, especially considering I thought he was an officious pain in the ass when I first met him. But none of us were too fond of navy types back then, were we?”

  “No, that’s for sure. Still, I imagine there’s quiet a difference between Admiral Barron and so
me career junior officer spending his time chasing Badlands prospectors and petty smugglers.”

  Andi just nodded. The talk of Barron just reminded her of the fact that he was hundreds of lightyears away…and that, despite her best efforts to be optimistic, she didn’t really believe he would return to her this time. She told herself it was her mind playing tricks, punishing her for not being up at the front where she belonged. She felt motherly instincts to protect Cassiopeia, but the other side of her mind argued that the surest way to secure her daughter’s future was to win the current war.

  “Pegasus, eh? I like it. I mean, she’ll always be Nightrunner to me, but it’s her spirit that really matters, not her name. And she’s a special old ship, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, she is.” It had taken Andi some time to get used to the name change, but the years and the adventures that followed had branded Pegasus into her mind. Nightrunner had been Captain Lorillard’s ship, and it was part of her past now, as he was, something that lived on in fond and beloved memories. “She’s been through a lot since you left. She’s Pegasus now, and that name has its own history, one I like to think would have made the captain proud.”

  “He was always proud of you, Andi.”

  Andi was silent for a moment, fighting back the burst of emotion and tears Sy’s last statement threatened to unleash. “I hope so,” she finally managed to mutter.

  There was a moment of silence, and then Andi said, “So, were you able to decipher anything from the data chips?” The past was calling to her, images of people important to her, people who were no longer there. But there was nothing she could do for a time and for people who were gone, no way she could save Captain Lorillard or Gregor, or any of those close to her now long lost. She might be able to do something to help save the present, though. Especially if Sy was able to retrieve any data on the Highborn.

  “It was very difficult, Andi. The damage is considerable. If these were Confederation chips, they’d be garbage. But old imperial data units are a lot more sophisticated. There is some remaining data on them, I’m sure of that, but I can’t say how much. It is very time consuming to retrieve it and rebuild the sequences, especially since my old imperial is pretty damned creaky. But I have managed to pull out some information, and I think you will find it is extraordinary. It’s a damned good thing you saved this stuff, Andi. If I keep working at it, I just might be able to come up with some useful data. Certainly some things that will change our view of imperial times.”

 

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