Exodus: Empires at War: Book 3: The Rising Storm

by Doug Dandridge

  “Of course, Admiral,” said Sean, feeling that petulant anger starting to grow again, and telling himself to grow up. My god, I was only a junior naval officer a couple of weeks ago, and now I’m the demigod who needs to tell these people how to run their Fleet.

  Sean went to a corner of the bridge with the young officer, Samantha and his security detail following. He looked over at the Admiral a few times while the lieutenant explained the plan, seeing the senior officer gesturing in the air like she was having an argument with someone.

  “She wants to talk with you,” yelled the Admiral, pointing at Sean.

  “Who?”

  “Your little doctor friend. I’m trying to talk sense into her, but she of course won’t listen. What the hell is wrong with everyone today?”

  Sean felt his heart soar as he recognized the voice of Jennifer Conway over the com. And now I’m in heat over a woman who just lost the love of her life. Good timing, Sean. And then he had no more time to berate himself as he was talking to the woman once again.

  * * *

  “Dr. Conway,” said the voice of Sean Ogden Lee Romanov. “What’s this I hear about you staying behind? I can’t allow you to do that.”

  “And you cannot stop me, your Majesty,” said Jennifer, thrilling at the sound of the young man’s voice, and the tone of worry that underlay it.

  “I could order the Marines to bring you aboard.”

  “That would be breaking your own laws, your Majesty,” said Jennifer, afraid he might just do that. “That would be a bad way to start your rule.”

  “We are in the middle of a war, Doctor,” said the Admiral over the link. “The Emperor could declare martial law, actually should do so. And suspend civil liberties for the duration.”

  “I really don’t think that is necessary, Admiral,” said the Emperor. “Even in the middle of a total war I don’t want to completely suspend civil liberties. I wouldn’t want to go down in history as a tyrant. But she is correct, Doctor. I could order you brought up to the ships, and I would be in my legal rights. And if the courts decide I am wrong at a later time, then I am willing to pay the fine.”

  “Please,” cried Jennifer, wishing she could stand face to face with the man and beg, even fall to her knees, if that was necessary. “I just want to save these people. You came here to save the people of this planet. Then save these people.”

  There was a moment of silence, and Jennifer knew that decisions were being made that would affect her and the people she had resolved to save. Decisions she was no longer a part of. She looked around and saw that the engineers were waiting, no longer preparing to leave. And she noticed that the Marines were looking at her, and knew that there was no way she would leave this plateau without being in their custody. Then the engineers started back to work, rising up on their suit grabbers, lifting the big laser projectors with them and maneuvering toward the unfinished hole in the mountain.

  “We will save these people,” said Sean over the link. “A pair of destroyers will stay behind to load them, and then accelerate to catch the rest of the force. Will that satisfy you?”

  Jennifer thought on that a moment. Of course the destroyers had more acceleration than the battle cruisers and light cruisers, and would be able to catch them before the hyper limit. “That sounds good, your Majesty,” she said. “It shouldn’t take more than an hour to have them aboard the shuttles and up to the ships. I’ll just check them out when they come out of the mountain.”

  “They will be checked out when they get to the ships,” said the Admiral over the com. “There is really nothing you can do for them if they are not alive, and anything that can be done for them can be accomplished by the destroyers’ doctors.”

  “You will get on the next available shuttle, Doctor,” said Sean, in a commanding voice that brooked no disobedience. “I want you aboard the flagship within the next twenty minutes, when we break orbit. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, your Majesty,” said Jennifer, fighting against her first inclination to argue, glad that she had gotten what she wanted. “Your wish is my command.”

  “I doubt that, Doctor,” said the Emperor with a laugh. “But as long as you don’t sacrifice yourself for nothing, I will be happy, for now.”

  Minutes later Jennifer was onboard an assault shuttle, watching the screen set on the chair in front of her. She had to admit that the shuttle passenger bay was comfortable, and there was almost no sense of motion as it lifted from the ground and accelerated up into orbit.

  “They can configure these things in all kinds of ways,” said the naval rating who was in the seat next to her. “They have a different layout for carrying heavy armored Marines, since those gorilla suits of theirs take up so much more space.”

  Jenifer nodded as she watched the sky turn to velvet and the stars come out in their millions. She switched the view back to the planet she was leaving, holding back the tears as she thought of the promise it had held when she first came to it. The man she loved was waiting for her, and a new life. Now both had been killed, and she was the survivor who must learn how to go on. The screen switched to a forward view, and the double triangle shape of a battle cruiser filled it. Narrow flat nosed bow and stern expanded to wide midsection, with the large structures of the hyperdrive projectors top and bottom, the quad grabber units projected out front and rear. Coming in from the side the four laser rings were prominent, and the ship looked like a killer, as did her sister lying ten kilometers beyond. But nothing compared to that battleship that was in orbit when I arrived, she thought, wondering where that ship was, if it was still safe. And nothing still compared to the big capital ships the Ca’cadasans have.

  Which brought up thoughts of those aliens who had taken this system at the cost of so many lives, only to lose it, and now on the verge of regaining it. Why do they hate us so much? Oh, she knew they were a conquering species, not one likely to form strong friendships with other species. Not like the humans, who, though they had their own problems with some other races, still formed strong friendships and alliances. She had heard the stories in school, about how the humans had killed the son of some important Ca’cadasan on one of the colony worlds, after offering their surrender to the aliens. But was that all there was to it?

  And then time for those thoughts was past as the shuttle slowly cruised into the bay that waited open for it. And thoughts of the young man who was ruler of the New Terran Empire took precedence over all others.

  * * *

  The shuttle flew over the seemingly endless jungle, following the beacon being used by the Freeholders according to the instructions that had been sent them by the task force. The shuttle moved over the clearing, hovered for a moment, then dropped the six cylinders it had carried to this point. The job done, the shuttle rocketed into the sky, heading for its launching ship and the way out of the system.

  As the shuttle moved away a human stepped into the clearing, followed by another, until a score of men moved toward the cylinders.

  “Get them open,” said Montano Montero, the head of the clan. “Let’s see what the Fleet left for us.”

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t have gone with them, father?” said a younger man who resembled the first speaker greatly.

  “Do not say that again, Ernesto,” growled the older man as he walked over to a cylinder that one of the other men was pulling open. “Lest I forget you are my blood, and drive you into the wilderness. This is our world, and our land on our world. And no alien monsters will drive me from my land.” Nor the other thousands of Freeholders on this world.

  “Madre Dios,” said one of the other men, crossing himself at the display of lethality that was displayed.

  Mother of God indeed, thought the Steadholder of the Montero Freehold. Arranged in the cylinder, in fact packing it, was more deadly weapons than he had dreamed of. His family possessed firepower, but not like this.

  Franco Montero, a grandson, pulled a particle beam rifle from the cylinder and held it up in th
e air, while a third cousin reached in and grabbed a hyper-v launcher. The other cylinders were being opened, and Montano looked around, and decided he did not have enough men to haul all of this back to the cavern which they had established as home base.

  There were more particle beams, lasers, and the power and proton packs to fuel them through many fights. Mortars and ammunition, high tech sniper rifles, enough high tech weaponry to equip the entire clan. One cylinder contained cloaks and clothing designed to hide a heat signature, while another had electronics that allowed short range communications without the telltale leakage, within limits.

  “Drag this equipment into the jungle,” ordered the elder Montero, pointing at the cylinders. “We’ll carry what we can, and come back for the rest with more men.”

  Within minutes the military equipment was in the brush, and the men were wending their way through the jungle, while their leader thought of the best ways to use those weapons to hurt the enemy, while at the same time keeping his people alive.

  * * *

  “The last shuttle is ready to go, Colonel,” said Sergeant Major Terry Zacharius.

  “All the civilians already gone?” asked the Colonel, looking up from the camp table, where he was finishing some more of the letters it was his duty to write. The hated letters that no one wanted to receive, but which must be delivered nonetheless.

  “And all the soldiers,” said the noncom. “Still some Marines on the ground up on the plateau, but they have their own shuttle. So it’s time to get, sir. Unless you want to stay here and greet the next batch of Cacas.”

  “Not me, Sergeant Major,” said the Colonel, picking up his flat comp and closing it folding it and sticking it into his belt pouch. He followed his senior non-com from the tent, taking a last look around the open area that was a familiar part of the planet. The jungles crowded on all sides, and the herds of great herbivores clumped at the north end, small figures at this range, but the Colonel knew them to be the massive surface dwellers of this world. And you can have your whole prairie back when we leave, thought the Colonel, stopping for a moment to zoom in on them with his suits optics, still marveling at the size of the eighty ton matriarchs of the herd.

  “I wish we could have done a better job, Terry,” he told his Sergeant Major.

  “That’s crap, sir. And you know it. If we’d had a couple of heavy divisions to work with we might have been able to hold the planet. As it was you did a masterful job, Colonel. And I wouldn’t be surprised if you received a star with your next assignment.”

  Baggett shook his head. He had led over three thousand men to this world, and had been assigned over ten thousand more, regulars and militia. And how many were left? A thousand? Two? So get a bunch of good people killed, and they gave you even more to play with.

  “You’ve got to get rid of that survivor’s guilt, sir,” said Terry as they walked to the single shuttle sitting on the ground a hundred meters away. “I’ve seen it ruin a good officer or two in my time.”

  “So how do you get rid of it, Terry?” asked Baggett, saluting the naval officer who waited for them at the door of the shuttle.

  “How the hell do I know, sir,” said the smiling noncom. “That’s why I won’t let them pin officer’s rank on me.”

  The men found their seats, near the front of the passenger compartment. The compartment was filled with the last troops to get off the planet. Samuel felt a little guilty that they were leaving humans behind on this planet, but that had been their decision, and the decision of the ranking man in the system. One that there was no appeal to higher authority. He just didn’t think the people had a chance. It wasn’t like they were dealing with a power that wanted to put boots on the planet and control the population, like the Empire did with the captured Lasharan worlds. No, these creatures wanted to wipe out humankind.

  The shuttle launched smoothly into the air. There was some turbulence, but the inertial compensators on the military craft smoothed everything out. Baggett watched his viewer the entire trip, seeing the sky turn into star flecked space, and the ships of the rescue force ahead. The shuttle was heading for one of the battle cruisers, and at the Colonel’s query he saw that it was the Flagship.

  “Looks like we’re going to hang with the brass, Terry,” said Baggett, pointing out the ship on his viewer.

  “I guess the new man at the top wants to pick your brain, sir,” said the Sergeant Major. “That’s a lot of responsibility, sir. You are going to teach the ruler of the Empire what he needs to know about the Army.”

  “I don’t think I have all that much to tell him,” said Baggett, shaking his head. “How to lose his people in combat. I’m sure he can figure that one out on his own.”

  “But you can give him the perspective of the Army, sir,” said the noncom. “After all, he’s a Navy puke. So doesn’t really know about real military operations.”

  The Naval Lieutenant who had showed them aboard the shuttle looked back with a frown on his face. And Baggett found himself laughing for the first time in a week.

  * * *

  “All personnel prepare for high gee. Repeat, high gee in fifteen minutes,” said the voice over the intercom, while klaxons went off through the ship.

  “What the hell does that mean?” asked Cornelius, looking up at the light flashing from the ceiling.

  “It means we’re about to go through hell, son,” said Preacher, pushing his duffel bag under one of the beds they had made up for him and his charge. They were in a handball court with another dozen people, some of the impromptu quarters that had been prepared for the thousands of passengers that the battle cruiser had never been made to accommodate. “They want to get as much velocity as they can, as fast as possible. Even beyond what the compensators are capable of handling.”

  “So why are they waiting fifteen minutes?” asked the confused young man. “Shouldn’t we already be on our way?”

  “We’ve been boosting for the last ten minutes,” said Preacher, grabbing Walborki’s bag stowing it under the young man’s bed, making sure that both had been securely attached to the floor, and then securing the bag to the bed.

  “I haven’t felt anything.”

  “It’s something you get used to feeling when you’ve shipped on enough Imperial ships,” answered the older man. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it as well.”

  “What about the baby?” asked Cornelius, feeling a wave of panic overcome him. “They can’t expect him to handle high gee.” He’s just a little guy, and they really can’t expect him to survive those kind of forces, can they?

  “There will be med personnel along shortly to get us ready,” said Preacher with a smile, but Cornelius didn’t feel any better.

  “Everyone needs a nanite boost,” yelled out a petty officer, standing in the doorway of the court. “And we need to get you into the beds, and set them up for rotation.”

  “What rotation?” asked a middle aged woman.

  “When we boost past the compensators the extra pull will be to that wall,” said the PO, pointing toward the stern. He looked over at Cornelius. “Excuse me, ma’am, but the rating will give you the shots.

  “Mr. Walborski,” said the PO, a smile on her face. “We need to get your little passenger ready.” Another rating came into the room, rolling box, about a half meter by a three eighths meter, into the room.

  “What are you going to do?” asked the new father suspiciously.

  “This is an acceleration tank,” said the young woman. “We actually use them with pets, but it’s just the right size for a newborn.”

  “Why can’t we have acceleration tanks?” said the middle aged woman, looking up from her bed where she sat, the rating giving her an injection of nanites. “You Navy people are used to high acceleration.”

  “Explain it to her, Max,” said the PO to the rating, then went to securing the box to the deck and making sure everything was working. “I’m going to give him an injection of nanites, and sedatives as well. Slow down his metabo
lism and keep him under. I’ll also attach a nutrient bag to him, in case we’re in high gee for a long time.”

  “Ma’am,” said the rating in the background. “We don’t have enough tanks for everyone. We’re giving tanks to the elderly and the very young. You’ll handle it just fine.”

  “But why do we need high gee at all?” asked the woman in a whiny voice. “This ship can accel really high. Why do we need a couple of more gees.”

  The Petty Officer shook her head while she injected the baby, then fit the nutrient tubes and the breathing mask.

  “What if he needs to, you know, use the bathroom?” asked the worried father, looking anxiously at his child.

  “No problem,” said the Petty Officer, picking up the baby and moving him toward the warm liquid in the tank. “He can urinate or defecate in the liquid without any effects. We’ll just clean him up when it’s over.”

  “Wait,” said Cornelius, putting a hand on the baby. He leaned over and gave his son a kiss on the forehead, and the child lay still. “OK.”

  The PO put the child in the liquid, checking to make sure he was breathing through the mask, then let him go with both hands. The tiny human floated in the fluid, arms and legs curled up, looking relaxed. The PO then closed the lid and fastened everything.

  “He’ll be OK through the trip,” said the Petty Officer, smiling at Cornelius. “Once we’re in hyper I’ll be down to take him out. He’ll do better than you will.”

  Cornelius nodded his head, still worried, but feeling much better than he had before the navy people showed up. They really have their shit together, he thought as he watched the PO walk out of the court. Then it was his turn for injections, and the rating showed him how the bed would tilt when they hit high gee, then made sure he was strapped in.

  “High gee in five minutes,” came the voice over the intercom.

  “I’ll be right out here,” said the rating, pointing to the main rec deck, where so many other civilians were. “As soon as I’m armored up.”