The Last War

by Clark Graham

  The line of people waiting to see Emor stood outside the conference room door. When the door opened again, Zedra was motioned to the front of the line. He entered to see the admiral and a captain were already in there.

  Emor sat back in his chair. “Zedra, you’ve already met Admiral Merken. This is his son, Captain Merken. Are you finished with your assessment?”

  “Yes, Sir. My recommendation is that we scrap the battleship. Not a single frame is left undamaged. Most of the frames have been blown into pieces. The keel isn’t intact. By the time we finish patching her, she’ll be the heaviest ship out there. I don’t see any reason to waste that much metal on her. Besides, if we can fix her, all we’ll end up with is an old obsolete Imperial battlewagon.”

  Zedra watched the admiral stiffen. Everyone had a favorite ship and that one must have been the admiral’s. Zedra’s favorite was the first star destroyer he had been assigned to, with the grumpy old master he loved and his friend Tedric. They were all gone now, so was this battleship if he had any say in the matter.

  “There you have it. Admiral. It’s not worth fixing. It will be recycled into many good destroyers that help us win the war,” Emor said.

  The admiral and captain bowed and left.

  Emor turned to Zedra. “Scrap the thing. I had to make it seem that I was willing to fix it. I’m sorry to have made you do that. I need that man. He has guts. I need men with guts leading my navies.”

  “We didn’t have room in the repair station. I already have three battleships and a carrier in the four docking bays. It would have been months before I could have fit it in.”

  “Fix the ones you have. I need my fleet back. The Grand Duke now has Prince Asat’s ships. I now border his space. I’m worried. It takes too long to build a new ship of that size. Two years, I’m told. I have two under construction, but they won’t be ready anytime soon.”

  Zedra nodded. “Yes, Sir. I’ve sent a lot of my workers to space to work on them. The first one will be repaired in three months. The others will take longer.”

  “Do your best Zedra. I know you’re working as hard as you can.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Zedra bowed.

  Captain Estovan watched Zedra leave. He was next in line. He swallowed involuntarily as they motioned him in. “You wanted to see me, Sir?”

  “Yes, Captain.” Emor stood up and grabbed a small box from his desk. He opened it, took out the ribbon and pinned it to the captain’s chest. “For courage in battle.”

  It was the last thing the captain had expected. He thought he was in trouble for getting caught off guard. “Thank you, Sir. But I let the enemy surprise me. I don’t deserve this.”

  “Nonsense. The type of destroyer you were up against was specifically designed for stealth. You didn’t flinch but kept blasting away. I’m also promoting you to commodore and giving you command of a flight of five destroyers. You will be serving under Admiral Merken. His ships are being repaired, so you will have the only ships in his fleet that will be mobile. The admiral might tag along with you from time to time, I suspect.” Emor pinned the new rank insignias onto Estovan’s uniform. “Congratulations and keep up the good work.”

  “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

  Alliances

  Chapter 13

  Border

  Keldar and Mikspire Sectors

  Commodore Estovan peered at the screen. “There, do you see that? It’s the same energy signature I had right before my ship was attacked.”

  Admiral Merken scanned it. “Yes, Estelies Class destroyers, at least four of them. They’re running silent. All stop.”

  “Signal all ships to stop,” Estovan repeated.

  The fleet of five destroyers came to a halt.

  “Sir, this is a bad idea. They’re trying to trap us. We should back away and return to base.”

  “Or pretend to be backing away. I want them to play their hand, one way or another. Have the ships reverse.”

  “Slow astern.”

  As soon as they began to back away, all four enemy ships went active.

  “We’re being hailed, Commodore,” the helmsman called out.

  “Very well, let’s hear it.”

  “Grand Duke Gastinof here. I wish to speak with Emor. You did bring him with you? or is this just a trap?”

  “Yes, he is here. We thought we were running into a trap ourselves when your ships were running silent.”

  “Just a precaution. There are those in the galaxy that don’t want these negotiations to continue.”

  “Understood.”

  “I’m here, Gastinof. It is so good to see you.”

  Estovan glanced over at Emor. The commodore hadn’t heard the man approach. Emor was wearing his worst outfit. The bright orange and pink colors clashed with each other. Estovan cringed inwardly.

  “Yes. I could say the same.” the grand duke replied, but Estovan noted that he didn’t. “The last three princes have formed an alliance, as we suspected they would. They want us both out of the picture, but hesitate to attack one of us for fear of the other one attacking them in turn.”

  “Then you’re ready to agree to the terms?” Emor’s smile widened. Estovan knew Emor loved that art of the deal.

  “Yes. I’m sending over the signed documents. It will be a mutual defense treaty.”

  Emor rubbed his hands together. “Excellent.”

  When the documents came over by shuttle, Emor read and signed them, then sent them back.

  The grand duke reappeared on the screen. “Now that it’s settled, I’ll come over to your ship and we can work out the finer details on the planet Denoris.”

  “Very well.”

  The screen went blank. Emor turned to the commodore. “I need suitable quarters for a grand duke. After the shuttle arrives, make a heading for Denoris.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Estovan had already been uprooted twice on this trip. When he heard that Emor was coming aboard, he took over the first officer’s quarters and let Emor have his. Then the admiral came aboard with Emor, so the second officer’s quarters were now his.

  The admiral leaned over and said. “Don’t worry. Put the grand duke in my quarters. I can bunk with the men. Sometimes it’s good to rub shoulders with the rank and file.”

  “But, Sir.”

  The admiral shook his head and walked away. Estovan knew he wasn’t going to listen to objections. The commodore took a mental note. He would need to figure out this new admiral if he was going to serve under him for very long. Peg-leg. That is what he had overheard Zedra calling him. The man was having trouble with his new leg for sure. Sometimes the thing would walk faster than the admiral wanted to go. They must have designed it for a younger man. Estovan smiled to himself.

  Ringing for two of his security officers, Estovan waited until he heard the docking ring of the shuttle clamp onto his hull. “Go to the docking bay and escort the grand duke to the first officer’s quarters.”

  The both went wide-eyed. One of them spoke. “Grand duke, Sir? Aren’t we at war with him?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The grand duke sat down on his bunk. The quarters were nicer than the ones he had on the ship he’d just came off of. Everything on this ship was nicer, including the engines and the guns. The alliance made sense to him. With the three princes banding together, he knew they would come after him first, then after Emor. He had more ships than Emor, but his were old Imperial design. He had seen what Emor’s fleet did to those in battle.

  The alliance would effectively end the war. The fleets would be evenly matched and neither side would be willing to risk it. The princes would be kept busy repairing the fleets they had. Then and only then, would they build more. Emor, on the other hand, already had more ships under construction. He also owned all the new technologies that went into ship design. It would only be a matter of time before he would be able to overwhelm the princes. It was wise for the grand duke to be on the winning side.

  Chap
ter 14

  Royal Palace

  Prime Sector

  Prince Daserant and Atarius were escorted past the gates and into the main chamber of the hall. Prince Felderan sat upon the throne with his head in his hands.

  Atarius was as thin as a rail, balding hair despite being the youngest of the princes. Always sniffing into a handkerchief because of his allergies or illnesses. He was sickly from birth.

  Prince Daserant had thick black hair, shoulder length. He carried himself perfectly upright. The perfect picture of the aristocracy.

  “Well, have you heard the news?” Daserant didn’t wait until he walked up to the throne, but yelled across the room at Felderan.

  Felderan ignored him until they both stood in front of him.

  “They’ve done it. Your brother and the outsider have signed a peace treaty.”

  “Half-brother, and it’s not a peace treaty, it’s an alliance. They have ganged up against us.” Felderan sat back. “Our plans have been thwarted.”

  “Nonsense. Our dear, sweet brother would never choose a commoner over us. We will attack Emor as planned. Right before the attack, we invite Gastinof to join us in the final assault and invite him to rule the new Empire with us.”

  “Never.” Felderan’s face reddened.

  “Of course, never, but that’s what we’ll tell him. By the time, he finds out differently, it will be three against one.”

  A smile creased Felderan’s lips. “Yes, then we’ll be rid of that son of a harlot once and for all.”

  “Lady Aringale was not a harlot.” Atarius spoke up for the first time. Their father had brought the lady to the palace to live with them. She had practically raised Atarius, because the queen left shortly afterward.

  Felderan folded his arms. “She wasn’t much of a lady either, was she?”

  “Now, let us not fight amongst ourselves. We are here to put the firstborn of the Empire on his rightful throne.” Daserant gave Felderan a slight bow.

  Felderan relaxed his shoulders. “How could my father have done this to me? I was the firstborn. The throne was mine. He should have declared that before he died.”

  “We can fix all that. We will destroy Emor.” Daserant smiled.

  “What if Gastinof honors his alliance with that commoner? What then?”

  “As I see it, your highness, if we don’t attack, we will either be ruled over by Emor, the commoner, or our illegitimate half-brother.”

  Felderan folded his arms. “It isn’t much of a choice.”

  “It isn’t a choice at all. I say we go with the original plan and attack Emor.”

  “But my fleet will be up against Gastinof’s space. He’ll attack me first,” Atarius protested.

  “We’ve gone through this.” Daserant shook his head like he was explaining something to a child. “He’s not going to attack his dear brothers. He’ll join us. Your fleet will be the most secure.”

  Felderan stood up. “It’s on, then. To your fleets.”

  Daserant boarded his flagship, the Star Battleship Tekeron. As he sat down in the command chair on the bridge, his admiral came and stood by his side. “Are we going with the plan, Sir?”

  “Of course, we are. I had those two fools eating out of my hands. ‘You are the rightful heir to the throne, Felderan.’ Throw in a little flattery and he’ll agree to anything you ask. As for Atarius, he’s as easily pushed around as when he was a boy. Gastinof’s fleet will decimate him when it attacks.”

  “So, you don’t think he’ll come to our side?”

  “Not in a million years. We treated him like a dog when we were children. He hates us. He’ll attack. We need to do irreparable damage to Emor, before that happens. Don’t worry, it will work. Soon only Felderan will be between me and my goal of being emperor and I have someone who will take care of him, after we’ve won our victory. Someone who is always by his side.”

  Falderan didn’t notice the two new gold rings on his servant’s hand as the wine was poured. “A little extra please. Dealing with Daserant always gives me a headache.”

  “Of course, Sire. Did you agree on a course of action?”

  “Yes. We’ll take back the Empire my father stole from me.” A wry smile showed. “Then I’ll have Daserant’s head chopped off. I’ll call it high treason and do it in the city square, right in front of the palace like my ancestors did millennia ago.”

  “Do you think that wise, Sir?”

  “Wise no. He has many friends. Prudent, yes.”

  Atarius arrived on his ship and went straight to his admiral. “It’s a trap. I won’t let them spring it on me. At the first sign that the grand duke is attacking, we’ll retreat to our home sector.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Chapter 15

  Keldar Sector

  The Grand Duke Gastinof fleet, sat at the edge of the border, awaiting the fleets of his brother. Emor’s ships and his were intermingled. The princes wouldn’t expect that. It presented a united front against them.

  Gastinof held the message in his hand, reading it over one more time.

  Dearest Brother.

  Once and for all, we are going to reestablish the aristocracy back on the throne of the galaxy. We invite, no, we plead with you to join us in this endeavor. We know you’ve signed a treaty with that commoner, but a treaty with a pretender is no treaty at all.

  You can attack his flank while we destroy his fleets along the border. Then you can rule your sector with some degree of autonomy while we set Emperor Felderan on his rightful throne.

  Blood is thicker than paper.

  Your loving brother,

  Daserant

  The admiral stood at his elbow. “Sir, how should I answer this?”

  “’My dearest brother.’ He never once claimed me as a brother when we were young. He tried to kill me a couple of times. His two front teeth are fake. I knocked out the real ones.”

  “Sir?”

  “Yes, the response.” Gastinof scratched his chin. “Wait until they are close and say, ‘Dearest half-brother, I hope you die well.’ Broadcast it to their entire fleet. If the other princes know I’m fighting against them, at least one of them will turn tail and run.”

  “Yes, Sir.” The admiral smiled as he walked off.

  Atarius’ fleet slowed. Not perceptibly at first, but soon it was lagging behind the other two princes. He turned to his commander. “Any sign of the grand duke?”

  “His space is devoid of ships.”

  A messenger came running up. “Sir, a communiqué from Daserant. He says we need to move forward faster. He’s almost at the border of the Keldar Sector.”

  Another man saluted the prince then read, “A message from the grand duke to Daserant. ‘I hope you die well.’”

  Atrarius tuned white and sat down in the captain’s chair. “Turn the fleet around. Head to home base. Full speed ahead.”

  “What?” Daserant bellowed.

  “I hope you die well.” The nervous messenger stepped back as if he was expecting a blow across the chin.

  “Sir, Atrarius’ fleet is in full retreat.”

  His face reddened. “Turn the ships around. Get us out of here. Falderan wants to be emperor, now’s his chance. I won’t fight him for it.”

  Felderan looked at the scanners. “Cowards. Look at them run.”

  “Look here, Sir, there are at least four full fleets in front of us.” The crewman pointed to the screen.

  “Impossible, Emor doesn’t have that many ships.” He turned white. “But Gastinof does. Full reverse, get us out of here.”

  The admiral came back to where Emor was standing. “Sir, the enemy is in full retreat. Do we follow?”

  “No, they will run, each back to his own home sector. They will never trust each other enough to try a joint attack. Today we let them run, but send fleet four to follow them and pick off the stragglers.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Full speed for an old fleet was hard on the ships, but Felderan saw a fleet pursuing him. No
rmally he would turn around and attack to drive them off, but he knew Admiral Merken led that fleet, and the man wouldn’t stop attacking. Felderan would lose half his ships and be easy pickings for Atarius or worse, Daserant. No, he would continue running.

  Chapter 16

  Andaria Major

  Keldar Sector

  “The war that wasn’t, that’s what I’m calling it.” The grand duke smiled.

  Emor sat at his desk. The hall it was in was palatial, but the desk was simple. He wasn’t one for pomp and ceremony that the royals enjoyed, like sitting on thrones and having men bow to him. He was a businessman, pure and simple. That person on the street who, he looked down upon one day, could be his business partner the next. He knew how to win, but he also had tasted the bitterness of loss. He took nothing for granted. “The war that wasn’t. I like the sound of that.”

  “What’s our next step? Do we go after the princes one at a time? They will never agree to another alliance. The scant trust they had for each other is long gone.”

  Shaking his head, Emor said, “No, we wait for them to kill each other. The fact that they abandoned the plan tells me that they hate each other. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “But that could take years.” The grand duke wrinkled his brow.

  “So be it. We both are secure. We are building ships, they are repairing ships. They have little resources left in that part of the galaxy. We own the frontier, where new worlds are being discovered, worlds rich in resources and manpower. The future is ours.”

  A smile creased the duke’s lips. “You are right. Time is on our side. I will bid you goodbye for now, and I will go run my portion of the Empire.” He bowed and left.