Defiance (Atlantia Series Book 5)

by Dean Crawford

  Gredan nodded. ‘No more, or less, than he condemned our people to during the assault and escape from Chiron IV, agreed?’

  Idris looked again at Meyanna, and his wife averted her eyes and looked down at the table before her as, he guessed, she too realized the extent of the council’s new–found power.

  ‘And Kordaz?’ Idris asked.

  Gredan looked at the governors behind him for a brief moment, and then back at the captain.

  ‘An exchange,’ he replied. ‘If Kordaz is truly innocent as you claim, and it is Mikhain whom we seek and who should be punished for the betrayal on Chiron IV, then I see no problem in cutting the Veng’en loose and improving our chances with the Galactic Council when we finally arrive at Oassia. I suggest he is told that his freedom depends on his ability to eradicate the infection from Arcadia, upon which he may go free and return to his homeworld.’

  Idris closed his eyes for a long moment.

  ‘Mikhain is currently aboard Arcadia, which is in lockdown.’

  ‘Then time is of the essence, don’t you agree captain?’ Gredan asked, basking in his victory. ‘The sooner Kordaz completes his work, the sooner Mikhain can be apprehended and the sooner we can progress toward Oassia, upon which time the governors will take the lead with the negotiations.’

  Idris was so preoccupied with his thoughts of Mikhain’s plight that he almost missed the governor’s last.

  ‘What?!’

  ‘We will negotiate with the council,’ Gredan repeated. ‘The military staff will be represented by yourselves of course, but we have every right to be present and to convey the needs and wishes of the civilians. Unless of course that you no longer consider this board, which you agreed to support, representative of the fleet?’

  Idris ground his teeth in his skull but said nothing in reply. Gredan glanced once more at the governors and then smiled at Idris.

  ‘You are dismissed, I believe is how you phrase it, captain?’

  Idris cast one final glare at the board of governors, and then he turned on one heel and marched silently between the ranks of watching civilians and out of the hall.

  ***

  IX

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding me?’

  Lieutenant C’rairn pulled on his battle kit and fastened his webbing into place as General Bra’hiv shook his head, pulling on his own black body armour and weaponry.

  ‘I kid you not. We’re using Kordaz as a bloodhound to flush out the Legion aboard Arcadia, and as soon as we’re done we’re arresting Mikhain and bringing him back aboard Atlantia for some kind of trial.’

  ‘But I thought Kordaz was the killer?’

  The general shook his head as he picked up his plasma rifle and checked the magazine.

  ‘I’ve always had my doubts about Mikhain,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve tried to tell the captain but he wasn’t buying it. Guess it’s a bit late now anyway.’

  C’rairn slammed his locker shut and plucked a spare magazine from where it hung in mid–air between them, stashing it away in his pocket.

  ‘This whole damned charade is getting too complex for me,’ he said. ‘I prefer it on the battlefield – at least you know who your enemy is.’

  ‘Djimon turned out to be a traitor too,’ Bra’hiv pointed out, ‘and he was a career Marine.’

  C’rairn rubbed his temples and turned to lead the way out of the barracks and toward the landing bays, where a shuttle was awaiting them both along with a small platoon of Marines to back them up. Despite the assertion that Kordaz should be responsible for earning his amnesty, nobody expected him to fight the Legion single–handedly. Then again, Bra’hiv thought as he followed C’rairn, nobody likely trusted the Veng’en to do the job anyway. Better to have a dozen Marines on hand to blast him into history before he got the chance to go over to the other side in full and take control of Arcadia from within.

  A capsule–based shuttle system that ran the length of both sides of Atlantia’s keel in a large loop transported them across the ship to the for’ard launch bays. Bra’hiv stepped out of the capsule with C’rairn and together they strode onto the flight deck.

  Rows of Raython fighters were parked either side of the deck, their cockpits open and maintenance crews clambering over them as they continued the endless task of keeping the sleek craft in battle–ready condition. Closer to the bay doors a pair of Reaper Squadron Raythons sat on the catapults, their systems plugged into power cables snaking across the vast deck that kept them ready for scramble. Both of their pilots were close by, sitting in recliners in full flight–gear should the claxon go off and watching the gathering Marines with interest.

  Near the port wall of the bay was a single shuttle, wedge–shaped in design with stubby but aerodynamic wings and a low T–tail, around which stood ten Marines in full battle kit. One of them towered above the rest, his bituminous skin glowing with bioluminescent tattoos from his time among the most feared of all Ethera’s street gangs: the Mark of Qayin.

  ‘Private Qayin,’ Bra’hiv greeted the giant man, his vivid gold and blue locks shaved back close to his scalp. ‘So good to see you up and about on your feet.’

  Qayin scowled at the General but said nothing. Stripped of his sergeant’s stripes in the wake of his desertion at Chiron IV, the former convict was now once again nothing more than a foot soldier among Atlantia’s ranks. A fearsome fighter, Bra’hiv would not admit it to any soul alive but despite the man’s unreliable nature, if a fight was to go off he would rather be with Qayin than without him.

  ‘Time to redeem yourself,’ he added, noting that none of the other Marines were mixing with Qayin. ‘We’ll be joined by your best friend shortly, upon which we’ll travel across to Arcadia and take the Legion on. I’m sure you’ll be on point the entire time, agreed?’

  Qayin, a full half cubit taller than Bra’hiv, stared back without emotion. ‘Kordaz?’

  ‘The same,’ Bra’hiv replied, enjoying himself. ‘You know that he’s going free after this, don’t you?’

  ‘Veng’en don’t interest me.’

  ‘But, I thought he nearly killed you last time you were together?’ Bra’hiv murmured innocently.

  Qayin grinned, his glowing tattoos flaring with fiery light. ‘He killed a Marine officer instead. Best watch your back, general.’

  Bra’hiv kept the innocent look on his face but did not reply. A commotion from behind them alerted him to a dozen heavily armed security guards marching onto the flight deck, and almost immediately all other sounds faded into silence.

  The twelve guards surrounded a gigantic figure in their midst as they marched, the only noise the sound of their boots on the deck and the rattle of chains as Kordaz’s towering, reptilian form strode among them. Taller even than Qayin, the eyes that had once been bright yellow were now a deep, ominous red and surrounded by flexing scales of metal where the Legion had repaired his eyesight. Likewise, his massive chest was a bizarre patchwork of forged metal that flexed like skin and yet was as strong as steel, engineered by tiny Infectors that had swarmed across his body and healed his wounds using the wreckage of the spacecraft hulls around them in the devastation after the battle for Chiron IV.

  The security guards came to a halt before Bra’hiv, Kordaz quiet and calm in their midst.

  ‘Here you go,’ the chief security officer said as he handed what looked rather like a leash to the General, attached to Kordaz’s wrist manacles. ‘Can’t say I’m sorry to see this one go.’

  The security guards backed away from Kordaz to give Bra’hiv some room, and the General walked up to the Veng’en and looked into his fearsome, glowing eyes.

  ‘You up for this, Kordaz?’

  The Veng’en’s voice, when he replied, was relayed by a universal translator strapped to his throat that detected vibrations in his vocal chords and constructed words from them. It sounded digital and in–human, especially over the warrior’s harsh, guttural dialect.

  ‘You make it sound as though I have a choice?’

 
; ‘Your freedom’s riding on this,’ Bra’hiv said. ‘You think that you can find the Legion aboard Arcadia and help us rid ourselves of the infection?’

  Kordaz looked over Bra’hiv’s head to where Qayin was standing among the Marines and watching him.

  ‘I can sense the infection already,’ the Veng’en growled. ‘It is close by and I can hear them.’

  Bra’hiv shivered involuntarily and then snapped himself out of his torpor.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he said and then whirled to his men. ‘Mount up, let’s get this done.’

  The Marines turned and Bra’hiv followed them, one hand holding the immense Veng’en warrior’s leash as though he were some kind of horrific pet.

  *

  ‘The shuttle’s away.’

  Captain Sansin nodded as Andaim Ry’ere stood alongside him on Atlantia’s viewing platform. A circular construction directly above the bridge and mounted atop the frigate’s hull, the platform afforded a spectacular panorama of the surrounding cosmos, Arcadia clearly visible ten thousand cubits away, floodlights illuminating her hull in the absence of a nearby star to light the scene. Vast veils of stars soared across the blackness, glowing galaxies like smudges of candlelight peppering the infinite universe.

  ‘This was the only option you had, captain,’ Andaim soothed. ‘You can’t be held responsible for Mikhain’s actions. We both know that he has a reckless streak – his career was filled with incidents like this. It’s likely why he was never given a command by the admiralty.’

  Idris exhaled noisily as though trying to expel his pain.

  ‘He’s a good commander and an excellent Executive Officer. He once served two tours as XO of the Colonial flagship Defiance – he doesn’t deserve this. He believed that Kordaz would betray us on Chiron IV and would ally himself to Salim Phaeon’s pirates if we cut him loose. He was trying to protect us.’

  Andaim smiled tightly. ‘Are you sure about that?’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You know what it means,’ Andaim replied. ‘You just won’t let yourself see it.’

  ‘Enlighten me.’

  Andain sighed and watched as the shuttle shrank to a tiny speck as it slowed and turned to land aboard Arcadia, dwarfed by the frigate’s massive hull.

  ‘He wanted your command,’ Andaim said, ‘and you were feeling pretty low at the time and under a lot of pressure. It seemed to me that part of you wanted Mikhain to take Atlantia off your hands, if only for a while.’

  Idris turned to look at Andaim. ‘Is that so? You’re the ship’s counsellor now too?’

  ‘I don’t mean it like that,’ Andaim insisted. ‘I get why you wanted to cover for Mikhain, really I do. But a crime is a crime. He could have dealt with the Kordaz issue back on Chiron IV any number of ways but he chose deception.’

  ‘He did what he had to do to protect us all.’

  ‘He ended up nearly finishing us off!’ Andaim gasped in exasperation. ‘Why won’t you see that?’

  ‘He’s being hung out to dry by Gredan and his damned board of governors!’

  ‘And if it had been Gredan who had gone behind our backs and colluded with a known pirate and killer?’ Andaim challenged. ‘Would you have turned a blind eye then? Would you have covered for him?’

  Idris opened his mouth to reply but his words felt as though they were trapped inside of him, unable to take form. He whirled away from the CAG, unable to formulate an argument as he heard Andaim’s voice from behind him.

  ‘Gredan’s right. You can’t have one set of rules for the command crew and another for everybody else. It’s not going to work and it’ll weaken us all in the end.’

  ‘This is a military ship,’ Idris growled in reply. ‘I can’t run it any other way. You can’t achieve victory in battles with debate and justice – fighting dirty is sometimes the only way to win.’

  ‘And fighting dirty among the civilians, risking their lives for your own gain? There are consequences for that. Without consequences this would still be a prison ship with convicts running riot throughout.’

  ‘You think that I’m not aware of that?!’ Idris roared and whirled to face Andaim. ‘I can only do the best I can with what we have! We can’t be a democracy and a fighting force at the same time! Either we attack and fight with one hundred per cent commitment or we accept the rule of law across all endeavours and then die because of it! I don’t give a damn about the governor’s laws any longer, and I’m damned if I’m going to sit here and let them hang Mikhain out to dry for taking chances that none of them would have the guts to even think about let alone act upon!’

  Idris turned for the stairs that led down to the bridge, and Andaim stepped to one side and blocked his path.

  ‘You can’t do that, captain.’

  Idris froze in motion and stared at the CAG. ‘I can do whatever I damned well like, Commander.’

  ‘It’s the same kind of treason that got Mikhain into this mess and exactly what Gredan wants you to do.’

  ‘I’m done with the governors. Move out of my way.’

  ‘I can’t do that, sir.’

  Idris struggled to decide what to do, his head filled with conflicting loyalties. ‘You’re in danger of being convicted yourself, Andaim, of insubordination! All I have to do is call the guard.’

  ‘All I have to do is call the governors.’

  ‘They’re irrelevant now.’

  ‘So we’re truly a dictatorship,’ Andaim replied, and suddenly stood aside.

  As Idris watched the CAG reached up to his shoulders and tore off his rank patches and let them hang in the air between them in the zero gravity.

  ‘That’s not going to achieve anything, commander,’ Idris snapped.

  ‘Nor is becoming the next tyrant who dismisses any train of thought that differs from his own.’

  Idris felt something in his mind and his body let go, and without conscious thought he swung his fist and it cracked across Andaim’s jaw and sent the commander staggering across the platform.

  Andaim regained his feet even as the sound of running boots hammered up the stairs from the bridge below. Two Marines rushed onto the platform with Meyanna Sansin in hot pursuit.

  ‘What’s going on up here?!’ she snapped.

  Idris stared at Andaim, his knuckles throbbing and dismay flushing through his chest like a crushing weight as he realized what he had done. Meyanna looked at the CAG’s rank patches hovering above the stairwell and at Andaim holding his jaw.

  ‘Idris?’

  Idris turned away and rubbed his hands across his face, suddenly feeling more tired than he had ever felt before in his life. He was about to say something, anything, when an alert claxon shrieked out from the bridge below and Atlantia’s lights went out.

  Idris whirled as a speaker near the stairwell blared Lael’s panicked voice.

  ‘Multiple contacts, bearing eight five one, in–bound mass warps!’

  Idris turned instinctively to Atlantia’s starboard aft quarter even as he saw Arcadia’s lights flicker out also as she went to tactical alert.

  From against the dense star fields he saw a deep warping of the light, as though space and time were spiralling in on itself and vanishing down a tiny vacuum into oblivion. A flare of brilliant energy flickered in multiple locations barely fifty thousand cubits away from the two Colonial frigates, and Idris saw several massive vessels lurch into view as they dropped out of super–luminal cruise with astonishing precision.

  ‘It’s an ambush!’ Andaim snapped.

  ‘Battle stations!’ Idris yelled as he made for the stairwell. ‘Prepare for tactical assault!’

  ***

  X

  ‘We’ve got four Morla’syn destroyers, two unknown battle cruisers and two waves of fighters already launching!’

  Lael’s voice was clear and steady but Idris could hear the fear in her tone as he dashed down onto the bridge with Andaim just behind him.

  ‘All shields at maximum but don�
��t scramble any more Raythons! Let’s not let anybody get trigger–happy out there. Who’s on patrol?!’

  ‘Reaper and Renegade squadron have four Raythons each at two hundred thousand cubits,’ Andaim replied as he took his seat near the command platform. ‘You want them brought in?’

  Idris thought hard for a moment. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘I don’t want to spook the Morla’syn into attacking if I can avoid it.’

  ‘Avoid it?’ Meyanna uttered in bewilderment as she stepped down onto the bridge. ‘We’re heavily outnumbered by vastly superior vessels. We couldn’t stop them from blowing us away even if we had a full fleet behind us.’

  ‘We don’t know what they want yet,’ Idris growled back, irritated at the intrusion. ‘Helm, turn our bow toward them, minimize our profile but don’t target them.’

  ‘Aye, captain.’

  ‘Is Arcadia in contact?’ he asked Lael.

  ‘All signals are being blocked, heavy jamming from the Morla’syn vessels captain,’ she replied apologetically. ‘There’s no way we can get a signal through.’

  Idris cursed silently and watched as Morla’syn fighters spread out from their massive capital ships and began taking up offensive positions that surrounded the two frigates. The Morla’syn capital ships were also splitting up, cutting off escape routes and effectively corralling both Atlantia and Arcadia in place.

  ‘We can’t win a fight,’ Andaim said, ‘we need to barter our way out of this.’

  Idris shook his head. ‘I don’t think that we’ll be getting out of whatever this is. All we can do is try to preserve our lives and our dignity.’ He turned to the Marines guarding the bridge. ‘Contact the governors. They wanted to have their damned say? Let’s give it to them.’

  Andaim’s eyes widened as the two Marines hurried away, one of them already speaking into a comm’s radio.