Hero of the Republic: (The Parasite Initiative, Book 1)

by Britt Ringel

  Just minutes after Rosario’s decision, the fading, sporadic sensor contacts constituting the Hollaran fleet changed course again. The trajectory was toward the Cres tunnel point, far at the top of Falcata’s system plot. Thirty-five minutes after the heading change, the Hollaran contacts finally dissolved into the murky backdrop of space.

  With the disappearance of the invaders, events outside the task group seemed to drag to a stop. Falcata’s crew worked to repair the damage inflicted from the twin missile strikes and tended the injured. In contrast to her companions, the destroyer had been lucky. The starboard heavy laser turret was annihilated, along with the eleven crewmembers who had been closest to its location. Numbers One and Two general-purpose laser turrets had followed their larger brother into eradication but Lieutenant Holt’s damaged missile launcher had been brought back online over the course of three hours. Even Falcata’s casualties, compared to the ships sailing around her, were light. Of the destroyer’s two hundred seventy crewmembers, only sixteen sailors had perished with another eleven wounded.

  Unsurprisingly, Twist’s section had been hit the hardest. Turret cages on the perimeter of the ship were horribly exposed and nearly any strike to Falcata would have seen casualties to the weapons section. Seven of the sixteen killed were from WEPS. For Twist, the sense of loss stung hard. Seven men and women whom he had worked with over the last weeks would not be attending his next meeting. The deaths inside the starboard Merkell turret hit him the hardest. Allocating the last two vampires to that battery had been a rookie’s mistake brought on by a nightmare scenario and sheer panic. The weight of those five lives threatened to crush him in his shockseat. Twist knew that it would get only heavier with time.

  Falcata had closed to within 7.5lm of the Carme tunnel point when it received word of Task Group 3.1’s fate. “Incoming coded message from Admiral Hayes, Captain,” Lieutenant Salle announced.

  Captain Weis shot up from the slouch he had settled into over the hours. “Play it.”

  The largely vacant system plot was replaced by Admiral Hayes’ impassive image. “To the commander of Task Group Two-Six. Admiral Salazar, we detected the multiple gravity distortions of the Hollaran fighter attack on your formation roughly five hours ago. Our fighters, although bounced by an enemy CAP, commenced their strike approximately thirty minutes before your own fleet fell under attack. I can report to you that we scratched one flattop and took a piece from the other. We also eliminated the fleet’s two out-system pickets and another two destroyer escorts inside their main formation. We estimate three other light units were damaged in the same attack.”

  Hayes paused for a moment and looked down. Twist watched the man’s grey eyes move left to right as though reading.

  “After our fighter attack, the Hollaran main force shifted its course toward us. We made a run toward the Cres tunnel point but distance and speed were against us.” The admiral shook his head disgustedly. “The Hollie bastards followed our own fighters home.” Twist’s mind raced across military history. That wouldn’t be the first time.

  Hayes cleared his throat. “Yessenia, our current situation is this. We are facing an ASM attack by ninety-seven fighters. That’s three hundred and eighty-eight missiles coming our way. We’ve recovered all of our fighters but it will take another twelve minutes to regenerate them before we can begin our launch. The Hollaran fighters will enter ASM range in under five minutes.”

  The man smiled nervously before continuing. “I’m severely hoping that you are shadowing the Hollaran main force just out of our sensor range, Yessenia. I need you to use the opportunity we’ve handed you to engage them and finish off their carrier at least. Yes, the remainder of their ships will out-throw you but that sacrifice must be made.” He tapped his chest with a finger. “My group will pay the price for your attack with its blood. Make it count.” He stared hard into the camera.

  “After we’ve withstood the Hollaran attack, I will wait until their fighters are beyond sensor range and change course to take the remainder of my fleet to the Carme tunnel point. You will hold Kalyke until I return with reinforcements. Hayes out.”

  Is he crazy? Twist asked himself as his jaw dropped. We endured an attack of over four hundred missiles without a proper escort squadron and he’s ordering our wrecked fleet into action against a fourteen-ship task force with carrier support?

  He looked away from the frozen image on the main screen and stared bitterly at a console that told him seven of his gunners would not be returning to their homes. And then, Twist continued as a fierce heat rose inside his chest, we’re supposed to hold this star system somehow while he retreats?

  Behind him, he heard Captain Weis’ voice. “Yes, Captain. I heard.”

  Twist jerked around to face the center of Falcata’s bridge. Weis’ head was down at his chair arm console, obviously looking at Captain Rosario as he spoke.

  “I have to concur,” Weis said with a nod. “There’s no way Crossbow and Falcata could set up a point defense network. We’re not even remotely equipped for it, ma’am. Ted, does Crossbow have anything you could jerry rig?”

  Twist realized that everyone on the bridge had stopped working to follow the conversation that would decide their fates.

  “Even if you did, we couldn’t possibly be expected to stop fifteen waves of two hundred plus missiles,” Weis added.

  There was a longer pause this time. Finally, Weis nodded and said, “I concur, Captain.” He closed the channel and looked at his crew. “We can’t do any good here so we’re continuing to the Carme tunnel point where we will wait for Admiral Hayes.” Exhales of relief filled the bridge.

  Twenty minutes after Hayes’ message, Electra’s sophisticated sensors detected thirty-nine gravitational ripples, likely from warhead detonations, that were tracked back to within 13lm of the Cres tunnel point. A half hour after that, Task Group 2.6 reached the Carme tunnel point. Communication requests from the space traffic control station orbiting the tunnel point were met with a stony silence. By regulation, a Brevic fleet engaged in battle could not provide battlefield intelligence to a civilian controller out of fear that any information passed might later fall into the hands of the enemy.

  The controllers on the small space station persistently requested information regarding the future of their star system, at first from the task group commander and then through individual pleas to each Brevic warship. The increasingly desperate civilians begged the fleet to accept and forward final messages to their families outside Kalyke.

  Listening to the anguished voices of doomed people was torture. Twist knew that after destroying every Brevic warship in the system, the Hollaran fleet would begin its butcher’s work on any orbitals around Kalyke’s major features, including the space control stations near tunnel points. Brevic civilian space traffic was closed in Kalyke. No transports would be coming to rescue those stranded on the orbitals. Thousands of Brevic citizens were facing obliteration inside their stations or asphyxiation in an escape pod after their life support ran out.

  Mercifully, Captain Weis ordered Lieutenant Salle to mute any further communications from the control orbital while they waited for Avenger. The Brevic Navy had done everything in its power to save these citizens but listening to their torment filled Twist with a deep-seated hatred for the Commonwealth and a growing shame in the Republic’s ineptness. The truth of war was far distant than the picture his mother had learned to paint to perfection. The little people would die while the Republic marched on.

  The wait lasted another two hours and sixteen minutes before Electra shared new sensor data with the rest of the group. Twenty light-minutes away, the torn images of Task Group 3.1 materialized like ghosts in a dark mist.

  Avenger appeared to be half-devoured. A 500-meter bite had been taken from the heavy carrier’s starboard side. The wound was so wide and deep that even from Falcata’s vantage, Twist could see into the massive ship’s hangar. The savage gash lay exposed to the dead of space. Simple containment field
s were woefully inadequate to cover such a long laceration winding down Avenger’s flank.

  CortRon-8’s squadron leader, the escort light cruiser Parapet, had survived though with horrific damage to her stern. Only two consorts sailed with her, a destroyer escort with a shattered sensor array and three-quarters of a frigate.

  Twenty minutes after visual contact, the final blow was delivered in a coded transmission. Admiral Hayes had been on Avenger’s bridge when a Greyhound missile had detonated less than sixty meters from it. Command of Task Group 3.1 was now in the hands of Captain Vincent Hamilton, the carrier’s air group commander and the group’s sole surviving O-6.

  Two hours later, the last vestiges of the Kalyke defense force merged into a single fleet and dove into tunnel space toward Carme. Left in their wake were six hundred million Brevic citizens now at the mercy of their Hollaran conquerors.

  Chapter 23

  Sabrina Twist smiled into the camera. It was her Republic smile, evolved over decades and practiced to perfection until it felt more natural to her than any genuine expression. “Hello, Caden. I wanted to record a quick message with the hope that you’ll receive it before your ship sees action in Kalyke. I’m still stuck in Anthe but, even way up here, there are rumors that the Hollies are making their push in your direction. I’m nearly finished with this job and I’ll be heading back to Thalassa after a brief stopover in Bree.”

  She secretly loathed the capital planet. Her most dangerous enemies resided there. However, selling an ever-growing unpopular and unsuccessful war dictated frequent travel to the Brevic Republic’s political heart.

  “Maybe after your task group has successfully protected us, you’ll have the chance to take some leave and visit home. I’m very proud of how you served in Sponde and I know that you’ll do just as well in your next action.”

  A chime sounded on her datapad. Twist looked away from her desk console and read the short message with a growing frown. Deep, blue eyes returned to the camera.

  “I have to go, Caden. Remember who you are.” She ended the recording and quickly typed out the message label that would guarantee speedy delivery via standata before sending it. When finished, she rose from her chair while initiating a communications request. “Phil, I need a shuttle up to the Anthe orbital ASAP.”

  * * *

  Anthe’s orbital was always busy but Twist immediately felt a different energy on the station as she walked through the arrival terminal toward the government docking bays. Her instincts were confirmed when she turned the corner to Secretary Brewer’s sloop and found the number of guards doubled at the security arch. She cleared the protocols without words and was quickly escorted through the ship to Brewer’s office. For once, his assistant secretary was absent.

  Brewer’s lethal expression drained Twist’s typical brashness. “What’s the emergency?” she asked plainly.

  “Garrett Heskan has betrayed the Republic,” Brewer declared with a grim face.

  Twist felt her jaw drop open. Not once during her meetings with the commander had she detected even the slightest hint of treachery. He had been shaping up to be the perfect figurehead for the war. Surely the situation could not be as bad as the Secretary of Internal Security had just stated. Heskan was becoming simply too valuable to lose. “How?” she asked suspiciously. I.S. was always overstating things.

  “This morning, Commander Heskan masterminded the breakout of the Hollaran survivors from HCS Phoenix from this orbital and escaped the system on a stolen, corporate freighter.”

  Although Brewer’s emotions were tightly reined, Twist could see the raging torrents behind his calm, grey eyes. She felt her own emotions beginning to threaten her composure. “Are you sure it was Commander Heskan?”

  “Yes, Sabrina,” Brewer answered irritably. “Do you think I’d make these accusations without cause?” He shook his head with disgust.

  Twist felt a flash of heat run through her. Her name was attached to Garrett Heskan. She stared directly at Brewer and stated adamantly, “This must not get out. It could bring the entire Republic’s judgment into question.”

  “The situation has been contained,” Brewer replied. “Right now, only myself, Jackson Neal, a security spoof team and one I.S. agent knows of this.”

  Twist’s mind raced as she considered a suitable course of action. “And they are all reliable?”

  “Utterly, and Agent Jennings is most likely dead by now. Commander Heskan took him hostage during his escape.”

  Twist began to pace the room, seeking outlet for her nervous energy. “Good, good,” she mumbled to herself before looking back to Brewer. “Garrett Heskan is still enormously important to PR&I. We have big plans for his reputation and that will be destroyed if word leaks. Can you recover this man, Mr. Secretary?”

  Brewer nodded. “We will be doing precisely that. My sloop leaves the moment you depart.” The man faltered slightly. His next words were presumably to Twist though his gaze turned from her. “I still believe he doesn’t understand the true consequences of his actions today. This… isn’t the man I know.” His words had grown genuinely pensive.

  A measure of relief passed through Twist. “You weren’t the only person who misjudged him, Mr. Secretary. How will I contact you?”

  “You won’t. Assistant Secretary Neal is your contact. He’s remaining in Anthe.”

  Twist sighed dramatically. “That man is a simpleton. He’s too painful to work with.”

  Brewer smiled darkly. “You can always travel with me to inform Minister Fane about this situation.”

  Twist shivered. “I prefer to keep a healthy distance from that woman.” She had retreated several steps from Brewer without realizing it. “Several star systems, actually.”

  * * *

  The remains of Task Groups 2.6 and 3.1 had spent the previous three days in tunnel space, traversing the gimmick of physics to arrive at a star system hungry for news. Overlook, the picket ship, had beaten them to Carme by four hours and relayed Admiral Hayes’ final message to Carme military command. Captain Hamilton filled in the details of Kalyke’s conquest.

  Carme Naval Command immediately embedded an urgent plea for reinforcements into standata that would be carried on each ship fleeing the system. Word would arrive first in the district system of New London as the Type B tunnel connecting it to Carme provided instantaneous transport.

  The fleet’s subsequent transit across Carme took longer than Caden Twist had hoped. Surviving ships from Task Group 3.1 had been reduced to a relative crawl. During the twelve-hour transit, the bulk of the military reserves in New London appeared in-system from the New London tunnel point. The tunnel point defense fortress and five-ship squadron would be little more than a speedbump for the Hollaran fleet if it chose to press its attack but Brevic authority could scarcely give up Carme without a fight.

  By the time the defeated fleet was ready to dive to New London, Overlook had taken her observer’s position at the tunnel point, waiting for the Hollarans to dive in from Kalyke. Overlook would dive to alert New London when they did.

  Twist clutched the edge of his weapons panel as his body revolted against the shift from normal space to tunnel space and immediately back again. The vertigo and intense nausea knotted his stomach while coiling his brain. Deep breaths helped the sensation diminish.

  Lieutenant Salle’s voice pierced through the haze of Twist’s disorientation. “We have arrived at the New London star system, Captain. The Carme beacon is green.”

  “That will change soon enough,” Hayashi predicted unsteadily. The first officer took another cleansing breath before stating in a stronger voice, “Captain Hamilton will undoubtedly order this beacon flipped as he did with all of the tunnel point beacons in Carme.”

  Less than a minute later the first officer’s presumption proved true. “It’s changed,” Salle pointed out. “The Carme beacon is now red, non-military traffic is suspended. And we have sailing orders from Avenger. We’re heading to New London proper.”

>   This was anticipated. Captain Hamilton had decided to skip the modest facilities in Carme and sail directly to New London where a repair yard large enough for Avenger orbited the primary planet. Even though the array of construction platforms, repair yards and fleet repair ships had nowhere near the capacity needed to reconstruct a fleet as large as the original task groups, the resources were sufficient for the meager number of ships now seeking shelter.

  Lieutenant Newcomb, sitting at his navigation station, confirmed, “Course entered and set. Firing maneuvering thrusters.” He scanned his panel. “Fleet speed remains point one-four-C, Captain.”

  “Steady as she goes,” Weis acknowledged and the bridge’s silence resumed.

  Twist reflected on the last three and a half days. Falcata’s damage had been repaired to the best of the crew’s ability. The heavy and light laser turrets were beyond help but surrounding compartments had been secured and sealed off. The destroyer’s atmospheric integrity was stable and seven of the eleven wounded sailors had returned to duty. The remains of the dead inside Falcata’s cold storage had increased by one though. Petty Officer Third Class Denise Williams had fought valiantly for her life in the medical bay but over eighty percent of her lung tissue had been damaged during a decompression event.

  Twist monitored his station in silence, occupying his time on the bridge by preparing the sixteen separate repair forms needed to requisition the equipment, allocate the man-hours and schedule the replacement of his three turrets. With the standata synch upon arrival in New London, he had already searched the stores of each repair facility for the resources needed to bring the ship back to a full laser complement. He was technically doing Operations’ job—it would be the primary liaison between Falcata and the civilian construction hands at the repair docks. However, Twist loved to optimize the many logistical pieces into a completed puzzle that would have the old destroyer shipshape again. When he was finished with the materiel component of Falcata’s convalescence, he would begin working on the personnel aspect.