A Greater Duty (Galaxy Ascendant Book 1)

by Yakov Merkin

  Only once Darkclaw was seated inside his shuttle, en route back to the Hudecar, was he finally able to regain control, though it was not complete. Soon, he would be able to end this unwanted distraction. Once Darvia fell, he could contact the High Lord, who would fix him. And now that meant focusing all of his attention on the preparation for the invasion.

  Despite the welcome distraction, however, Darkclaw knew both that a part of him, a growing part, was accepting the changes. If he was not fixed soon, he would continue to slip toward accepting the feelings, and he did not like the possible outcomes of that scenario. One problem at a time.

  CHAPTER 10

  “Estimated time to our arrival in the Darvian System: one hour,” the Felinar’s pilot, Lieutenant Kelov, stated.

  It’s almost time, Nayasar said to herself. In one short hour, the true retribution could begin. Taking Kanor and Algen had been satisfying, but Darvia was a different animal altogether.

  Darvians had been the first alien species the Felinaris had encountered once they’d ventured out beyond their home system, and the expansionist Darvians had quickly set their sights on the technologically inferior Felinaris. Much of Felinaris space was ravaged, and part of Felinar itself even occupied over the course of the years-long First Contact War, before the Felinaris, who by that time had made friendly contact with the Snevans, managed to turn the tide and force the Darvians to retreat and sue for peace. The Darvians’ had never forgotten that embarrassment.

  It was Darvians who had agitated against the Felinaris most strongly within the Alliance, it was Darvians who had caused the Alliance to expel the Felinaris, and it had been a Darvian who planned and led the Selban Massacre. Plus the reactions from common Darvians had ranged from indifference to outright glee when the news was broken. A significant, more vicious part of Nayasar wanted to repay the Darvians in kind—there was a sense of justice in that, after all. But the rest of her knew better. The Darvians would soon find out what they had created through their actions, she would not give them the same opportunity to rally behind something. It was simply too bad that the state of affairs would not allow her to enact a proper, complete revenge. Still, the prospect of setting foot on Darvia as conquerors for the first time excited her. After all of the times in history the Darvians had defiled Felinaris land, and their attacks on sovereign Felinaris territory, it would be a welcome reversal.

  “Have all ground forces and fighter crews begin preparations and remain on standby,” Nayasar ordered, then turned to stare at the blur of hyperspace on the display screen. It was only a pity that Rotam ren Parstin, the Darvian advisor to the Alliance chairman and one of the masterminds of the Selban Massacre, would not be on world. But his time would come when Dorandor fell, and the other remaining masterminds would soon follow—apart from those killed in the failed attack on Felinar. Nayasar wanted to see the look on his face when she tore his throat out—there would be no trial. The truly evil did not deserve them.

  Soon, she told herself. If they kept up their current pace, Dorandor would fall, at least as an organized, defended world, within a year, even with the brief recess that Darkclaw had indicated would follow their victory here. The Legion Navy and the Scions would prove to be obstacles, of course, not to mention the fact that it would be years before all armed resistance was crushed, but Darkclaw seemed sure that there would be hidden tail-catches. And if he was so certain, Nayasar could comfortably rely on his judgment. Darkclaw had not let her down yet, and there was no reason to expect that he would.

  As tempting as it was to dwell on the executor, Nayasar curbed her curiosity, for the time being at any rate. The Darvians would not fall easily, and all of her attention would need to be focused on the approaching battle.

  Much of the remaining time passed quickly as Nayasar busied herself overseeing the fleet preparations. Once again, the plan of attack was based on one she had devised herself, months earlier, though this time Darkclaw had insisted on inserting his own suggestions, which primarily placed his own forces where the action would be thickest. Probably to make sure I don’t do anything that surprises him again. Or maybe he just wants a larger share of the glory, she thought with a smile. Now everyone would be trying to grab as much action as they could.

  “Fifteen minutes until we reach the system,” Nayasar was informed.

  It was finally time for her to address her people. The battle today might not have been the first in the war against the Alliance, but this would be where their retribution truly began.

  “Open a channel to all of our ships,” she ordered. She would have done so herself, but some things just had to be done the formal way. And it would let her command crew know what was coming.

  “Channel ready, Srei Felitzvah.”

  Nayasar nodded in acknowledgment, then began.

  “During the last Darvian Conflict, they kidnapped and held hostage three of our own. They demanded the release of three thousand Darvian prisoners which we had captured in battle in exchange for our soldiers. From that, we see that one Felinaris is worth a thousand Darvians.

  “In the Selban Massacre the Galactic Alliance, led by the Darvians, showed us that they think Felinaris blood is cheap, and until now they have not paid for their crimes against us. Today, we begin to exact that payment!

  “Twenty thousand, seven hundred and sixteen of us were killed that day. I could recite each name to you all, but I’m sure you could as well. Each battlegroup and battalion has been assigned the name of one of the lost, and the Selban, which will have the honor of leading our assault, is crewed by relatives of the dead. Today, the scales must be equalized! One thousand enemies for every Felinaris! Beginning today, let our enemies know the true cost of their crimes against us! That Felinaris blood carries a high price! That we will not stand by while our people are unavenged! Felikhar ad-melkhan!” Nayasar concluded with the time-honored battle cry of the Felinaris—Felinar fights on—and rose sharply to her feet, fist raised high.

  The crew on the command deck simultaneously repeated the battle cry and gesture. Her pulse racing, Nayasar moved to stand behind her command chair, her arms resting on its back as she watched the stars fly by. The Darvians didn’t stand a chance.

  * * *

  Darkclaw sat quietly on the command deck of the Hudecar, which had already been converted to its fleet command configuration, and watched as the last minutes until the fleet’s arrival at Darvia were counted down on a timer below the primary display screen.

  When he had noticed the transmission being broadcast from the Felinar to the entire Felinaris fleet, Darkclaw could not keep himself from listening in. he had expected whatever Nayasar was saying to be emotionally charged, and so he had prepared for the inevitable feelings that would accompany the words. What he had not expected was the power of her address. It was not particularly complex, and it relied heavily on an emotional reaction, but Darkclaw could not deny that it was effective. All he could think for a few moments, as Nayasar had concluded, was that he could not wait to destroy the Darvian defenders, despite his conscious attempts to prevent her words from affecting him.

  Despite Nayasar’s already proven competence as a fighter and leader, Darkclaw still had not considered the Felinaris methods to be as worthwhile as his own. Now, he understood its value. Every single Felinaris soldier would fight as hard as they could, and remain as focused in combat, as any of Darkclaw’s own, doing as they were commanded to serve their leaders stoically. The High Lord believed that the only way to have a truly effective army was to have them suppress emotions, to not allow for distractions. But the Felinaris were proving that there was another way, which was as effective: Giving their soldiers a way to harness their feelings gave them a unified purpose and drive. The Felinaris would not fight simply because they were ordered to. They fought because they had a goal: retribution.

  Just then an alarm began to beep; a notification that their arrival was imminent, which gave Darkclaw a reason to file his newfound realization away and ready hi
mself for battle. He put on his helmet, sealing it to his armor, then stood up inside the fleet command center as the holographic displays came to life.

  “Exiting hyperspace in ten seconds,” announced the Hudecar’s flight controller.

  Darkclaw turned his attention to the primary display screen, and watched as the distorted stars of hyperspace were replaced by Darvia, this system’s primary inhabited world and home planet of the Darvian species, and the sizeable force arrayed to defend it. The Darvian High Fleet was 1,200 ships strong according to his tactical display, and was arrayed directly in the path of Darkclaw’s own forces but spread out enough that any attempt to bypass the fleet would prove unwise.

  Darkclaw had at first considered sending his stealth craft in first, as before, to mask the fleet’s approach, but Nayasar had assured him that the Darvians, mobilized as they were, would be able to detect and destroy the ships with plenty of time to prepare their formation. With no reason to doubt Nayasar, Darkclaw had adjusted the plan of attack and formation with the assumption that the Darvians would be well prepared. Besides, the need for secrecy was long gone.

  With a simple command, Darkclaw ordered the fleet to advance at a steady pace in order to give Praetor Keeneye, who he had finally called back to the fleet, and the new warships and soldiers from Selixan Station time to arrive.

  The Darvians were arrayed in a predictable, but highly effective, defensive formation. The bulk of their fleet was organized in front of a line of battle stations, which sat in high orbit over the planet. If Nayasar’s information was accurate, the stations were very heavily armed but largely immobile, their primary engines from their time as mobile platforms replaced with additional weapons and equipment, which covered most of the stations’ previous weak points.

  Nayasar’s information had not been perfect, however: There were sixteen battle stations, not fourteen. Darkclaw hoped that there would not be any more surprises. Despite both Nayasar’s and his own confidence, Darkclaw knew that this would be the most formidable adversary they had faced thus far. The rest of the Darvian fleet was arrayed on either end of the main line, organized in outward columns that tapered to a point, their ends significantly further forward than the main line. This would serve to both prevent flanking maneuvers and provide a significant edge over a direct attack on the main defensive line.

  Fortunately, both he and Nayasar had expected the move, and had prepared accordingly. Darkclaw’s own forces took the lead as they moved closer to weapons range, arranged in a large semicircular formation, with the Felinaris in a similar formation, above and slightly behind his ships, apart from a handful that Darkclaw had consented to allow to fire the first shots. To either side were the Snevans, each group in a formation similar to that of the Darvians but on a smaller scale, positioned to assault the forward columns of the Darvian formation.

  It was now the Darvian commander’s turn to react or face complete annihilation. Their fleet made no move as Darkclaw’s fleet approached weapons range, and no attempt at communication was made. As Nayasar predicted. The Darvians knew what was happening, and they had no intention of surrendering. It was a respectable, if fatal, decision. Of course, Darkclaw would have to execute any captured military personnel due to lack of resources to devote to prisoners, so the Darvians were unknowingly making the most logical choice they could. All that was left now would be to see how much of a fight the Darvians would give the fleet that outnumbered them by more than two to one.

  Darkclaw input a command to the display, and a glowing red line arced in front of the fleet on the display, indicating the maximum firing range of the fleet—the Snevan dreadnaughts in particular, which outranged even the Hudecar. It would still be two minutes until they were in range, which meant that the Darvians would not be able to fire yet either. Enough time for Praetor Keeneye to arrive as scheduled.

  A few seconds later, an indicator pinged, and Darkclaw turned his attention to the display screen. From seemingly nowhere, heavy weapons fire appeared with a bright white flash, then connected with the rearmost Darvian vessels at the edges of the formation. Just as planned.

  “Magnify on the starboard side of the Darvian formation,” Darkclaw ordered, and the display immediately shifted, allowing him to clearly see the shields on the ships glowing as they absorbed impact, and the explosions as the shields on a number of warships failed. Thirty seconds after the initial attack, another volley appeared, striking the same sections of the formation. The Darvians admirably held position, though with nothing to fight they had no real alternative other than to break formation and flee.

  Thirty seconds later, Keeneye’s forces appeared out of hyperspace, and opened fire once more as they entered the system, and both groups began to close with the rear of the Darvian line. Neither of the praetor’s two attack groups was particularly large, each only numbering 200 ships, but they would provide enough of a threat to the already outnumbered and now outflanked Darvians that they would be forced to take ships from the main defensive line to intercept Keeneye’s forces, particularly after the presumed shock of being fired upon from ships still in hyperspace. A lesser enemy might have broken and run before the praetor had even arrived.

  The Darvians reacted quickly in the only way they could, drawing ships from the rear of their forward columns to cluster around the outermost battle stations to prevent Keeneye’s ships from engaging them from a favorable position. It was an effective a maneuver as the Darvians could make.

  Their forward columns, however, would be compromised. As the praetor’s attack force began to exchange fire with the Darvians, Darkclaw ordered the Snevan attack wings to full attack speed, aimed directly at the columns. A moment later, First Flight Commander Senkar contacted the Hudecar, his face appearing on one of the monitors in the fleet command.

  “Ii wiill ssee you iin orbit, Eexecutoor!” he shouted. “Mayy you flyy sswiftlyy and ssafelyy!” he added, then loudly, shouted orders to his fleet to advance, before mercifully remembering to mute his output audio for the time being, though the Snevan’s animated form remained visible on the monitor.

  As the Snevan forces surged ahead, Darkclaw gave the order to the rest of the fleet to accelerate to attack speed, though they would remain behind the Snevans. As the main section of the fleet closed to firing range and the Snevan dreadnaughts began to fire, so did the Darvian battle stations, firing on the main part of the fleet. Despite taking fire, the fleet held formation and continued to advance.

  Darkclaw watched on the tactical display as the Snevans clashed with the tips of the Darvian columns and the forward end of the Snevan formations closed, trapping dozens of Darvian ships inside a deadly circle of Snevan weapons fire. The Darvians had just begun pulling the remains of the columns back into the main defensive line when the rest of the fleet came into firing range.

  Darkclaw gave the order to open fire, and fleet complied, focusing fire on specific, predetermined sections of the enemy fleet. He did not have to look at the visual display to see the devastation being wrought on the outmatched Darvian navy. In the first moments of fighting, over two hundred of the green half circles that represented Darvian warships blinked out of existence.

  Darkclaw then ordered all ships to deploy fighters to harass the enemy from above and below as the Darvians wisely pulled back, clustering around the battle stations. Then a new energy reading appeared, originating from the stations, as well as a massive power surge on the planet’s surface, and the Darvian fleet became much more resilient. Darkclaw immediately opened a channel to Nayasar on the Felinar.

  “I presume you have detected these new energy readings?” he asked.

  “We have,” she replied. “A clever tactic, expanding the shields of the stations to protect most of the remains of the fleet. I think we’ve found their surprise.”

  “They are drawing immense amounts of power from the planet’s surface to maintain the shield. The stations alone would be unable to power the shield on their own for long, and they would certainl
y be unable to fire if that were the case.”

  “Regardless, we need to get past that shield,” Nayasar sated. “Otherwise we’re giving them a free opportunity to shoot at us, and most of our ships are still too far out to fire on those stations.”

  “Agreed. We will divide the primary fleet in two and we will engage the enemy at point blank range—we must focus our efforts on the stations.” Everything had gone according to plan thus far, and Darkclaw was not about to let this obstacle spoil the plan. He had just issued the order to advance when several things happened. Prompted by shouting on the Felinar’s command deck, Darkclaw returned his gaze to the tactical display.

  The Darvian fleet was attempting to escape. Most of their remaining ships had coalesced into one large mass during their short reprieve behind the shield, and they were now throwing themselves at the more vulnerable edge of Darkclaw’s main formation, exploiting the gap between the Snevans and the rest of the fleet. Darkclaw immediately issued orders to stop them, but he was too late. The Darvians were forcing their way out, even sending some of their ships to collide with those in their path. This was not good. The Darvians could not be allowed to escape.

  But strangely, the Darvians were not fleeing. They were turning to attack the rear of the Tyrannodon and Felinaris formation. What is their aim? A mere five hundred ships had broken free, and while it was true that most of Darkclaw’s ships were engaging those still inside the shield as well as the battle stations, the Darvians clearly stood no chance of winning, and doubtless they knew it. All they were accomplishing with their suicidal maneuver was… keeping Darkclaw’s fleet where it was.

  “Run a complete scan of the planet and the Darvian battle stations!” he ordered, slightly sharper than he should have. But emotions did not matter now. If he was right, they had a far bigger, potentially disastrous problem.