The Last War

by Clark Graham

  Admiral Merken stood next to Emor. “He’s gone then?”

  “Yes, he’s going home.”

  “I don’t trust him. He’s a royal. I don’t trust any of them.”

  Emor smiled. “He’s only half royal, a fact that his brothers keep reminding him of. No, none of them are completely trustworthy, but he will add some legitimacy to my claim of the leadership, once the others are subdued. Besides, he knows he can’t defeat me and his brothers could turn on him again. Neither one of us can overthrow them without the other.”

  “I see, a treaty of mutual need.”

  Standing up, Emor stretched the soreness out of his bones. “Something like that. What we need to do now is to shore up our border with null space. Not all of my freighters are getting through. The pirate problem grows.”

  “The shipyard has come up with solutions. I have assigned my best man to the problem. Consider it solved.”

  “Your best man?”

  “My son.”

  Emor laughed. “I see. Good show.” Sitting back down, he laid one report in front of the admiral. “Five destroys captured, all from Falderan’s navy. You did well.”

  “Zedra wants to scrap them.”

  “Of course, he does. He needs the raw materials to continue building ships.”

  Meken shook his head. “He says that if they were good ships, then they wouldn’t have broken down during the pursuit. I think it would be better to repair them instead of starting over completely. Who does that farm boy think he is, ordering around admirals?”

  “I’ll look into it myself.” Emor put his hand on Merken’s shoulder. “That farm boy is a genius. Many of his innovations are wrapped around in those superb destroyers he builds. There’s nothing like them in any of the enemy fleets. I do agree, that most of those ships can be repaired. I’ll send some freighters to bring back those ship pieces floating out in space from the last battle. That will keep Zedra supplied.”

  Grand Duke Gastinof stepped onto the battleship. It was new and powerful, a gift from Emor. “What’s our status?”

  “Sir, all ships are ready.”

  “Excellent. Make for home, full speed ahead. I want to sleep in my own bed as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, Sir.” The admiral barked orders to his men. The ships moved out quickly.

  “Sir, how did the meeting with Emor go?”

  Gastinof sat down and stretched out his legs. “Excellent. With him around my, brothers won’t bother me.”

  “Yes, but when your brothers are dealt with, what then?”

  “When you are in the winning team, you don’t walk away. The Empire under Emor will be a better place than it under any of my dear brothers, the princes. The first thing they would do would be to chop my head off. No, I’m staying put.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The fleet flew back to the Mikspire Sector at full speed.

  Treason

  Chapter 17

  Prime Sector

  The servant eyed the knife carefully, the finest steel and a gold bejeweled handle, nothing but the best for the rightful emperor. He stashed it in his cloak. Putting the wine vat on the silver tray, along with a glass, he headed toward the throne room.

  He set down the tray in front of Prince Falderan. Pouring the wine, the servant handed him the glass. “From Altean Minor. Best wine in the galaxy.”

  “Ah, yes. Too bad it’s in Emor’s territory now. I will kill him. It will be a public execution broadcast to all planets in the galaxy. I’ll boil him in oil slowly. I’ll even leave his ugly robes on him. It will be glorious.”

  The servant smiled, “No, you won’t.” With a hand as quick as lightning, he plunged the knife into the Prince’s chest.

  Falderan gasped grasping the servant's arm with both his hands. He glared up at him, as if to say “Why would you do this?” and, “How dare you,” at the same time. No words came out.

  A bolt from a guard’s blaster sent the servant sprawling across the floor. Other guards rushed to the Prince’s side. The guard who shot, checked on the servant. He was stone dead. When he turned back around, he saw a doctor rush in. The Prince was laid out on the floor and being worked on.

  All attempts to save him failed. The knife had cut his heart. There was nothing they could do.

  The captain of the guard was in tears, sitting next to the throne with his head in his hands. When he caught his breath, he stood. Pointing at two of the guards, he bellowed. “Go check on Prince Luden. Don’t let any servants near him. Tell him his father is dead.”

  They went running.

  All the arrangements were made. The royal funeral would be held the next week. Prince Luden sat in his chambers, dressed all in black. He refused to sit on the throne until his father was memorialized, and maybe not even then. He didn’t want any part of being the ruler.

  A knock came on his door. “Enter.”

  The captain of the guard stood before the young prince. “It was Daserant. We have traced communications between the servant and the royal palace in the Onderi Sector. It’s been going on for years. The servant’s family has benefited handsomely. They have secret accounts all over the galaxy. They moved to the Onderi Sector right before the assassination.”

  The prince stood up and stretched. “I want them all killed. Every one of them, along with Daserant and his son Carpatian. There will be no heir to his throne.”

  “Sir, we can’t attack without weakening ourselves. There are still many enemies out there.”

  “I see. I want to talk to Atarius.” Atarius had been Luden’s favorite uncle growing up. He’s the only one without his nose stuck up into the clouds. If Luden wanted something, Atarius would listen.

  “The Fool. He was supposed to kill Falderan only when we had defeated Emor!” Daserant looked at the deep space scans. Both Atarius and Luden’s fleets were massing on the border. “The little brat is coming after me with Uncle Atarius in tow. Go to full battle readiness.”

  The admiral nodded. “Yes, Sir. Do you really think they will do it or is this just a ploy to intimidate us?”

  Daserant looked up from the scans. “They are coming, I have no doubt. I will lead the fleet myself. This is all or nothing, for our very survival.” He shook his head. “The idiot, he wasn’t supposed to kill him yet.” He stared at the admiral. “I want your best captain to command three fast destroyers. Take my son Carpatian and hide him in the corner of the galaxy. Somewhere they’ll never find him. The direct line of the emperor must live on.”

  “Yes, Sir. I know just the place.” The admiral grabbed his communicator and made the arrangements. Carpatian didn’t go willingly. He wanted to fight beside his father. He was young, but already a commander in the Imperial Navy.

  When that was done, the admiral turned his attention back to the prince.

  “Our plan is simple. We attack Atarius. He proved a coward in the last fight we had. When he flees the battle, then we move into the Prime Sector and take on the little brat. He will be no match for us.”

  “It is a good plan.” It’s what the admiral always said to the prince, no matter how bad, or how good a plan was. This one was a terrible plan. Taking on two fleets at the same time was foolhardy, at best.

  Chapter 18

  Deep Space

  Thirty-two ships crept silently across the border. The engines barely made a ripple as the pushed the steel monsters forward. Two battleships, a carrier, five cruisers, and a host of destroyers and frigates inched forward.

  “The enemy hasn’t detected us.” Came the report from the men at the sensors.

  “All stop.” The admiral adjusted his collar. He knew this was a bad idea. Even if he defeated Atarius, his fleet would be shredded and he couldn’t take on Luden. “Go to battle stations.”

  The lights flashed red as sailors scrambled to their assigned areas. When the beehive of activity stopped, the admiral swallowed hard before his next command. “Go to battle formation, all ahead full.” The ships roared to life and streaked
toward an unsuspecting enemy.

  Surprisingly quickly, the opposing fleet turned to meet the onslaught, but it was too late. The first volley from the attackers smashed into the flank of Ataruis’ fleet. Fires broke out on his ships.

  “It will be a glorious victory.” Daserant stood at the admiral’s elbow.

  The admiral hadn’t seen him come up. “Yes, Sir,” he mumbled. “They are not returning fire as quickly as one would suspect.”

  “We have caught them off guard. Drive home your attack.”

  The admiral hesitated. Something didn’t feel right. He looked at the screen as an enemy battleship cruised by. Holes appeared in the lower sections of the ship. Holes that his fleet hadn’t made.

  “Sir. There is another fleet behind us,” the radarman reported.

  “It’s a trap. These are junkyard ships jury-rigged with some guns to look like they’re fighting. It isn’t Atarius’ fleet.” The admiral took a deep breath before he bellowed, “All stop. Turn to one-eight-zero.”

  His ships were scattered by this point. They disengaged the junk fleet, as best they could, then turned to meet the threat. It was too late for most of them. The enemy was on them too quickly. Some of the ships had their engines exposed to the onrushing attack. A couple of well-placed shots put them out of action.

  The admiral’s battleship held its own against three cruisers. The carrier unleashed a horde of planes, but they were met by fighters spewing out of Atarius’ carrier. Light streaks, fighters, cannons spewing fire, explosions all filled the air.

  The admiral turned to Daserant to say something, but the prince wasn’t there. He knew at an instant that the royal was fleeing the battle. He turned back toward the ship’s screen. “All ships disengage. Head to the starbase. Destroyers, cover the retreat.”

  He had been fooled by sickly Prince Atarius. He would never lead a fleet again. It was time to save what he could.

  Most ships couldn’t disengage. They were surrounded and pummeled into submission. The carrier blazed from a thousand onboard fires. Two cruises were torn to pieces, but both battleships fled the area along with three cruisers.

  Captain Relense saw that he was about to lose an engine. He knew he couldn’t keep up. “Admiral,” he said into his communicator. “Permission to stay behind with the destroyers to shield the retreat.”

  “Permission granted,” came the instant response.

  Relense turned his ship around. The enemy wasn’t pursuing as rapidly as he would have expected. The destroyers were withdrawing in good order. The enemy stopped, and turned back towards their home base.

  Organizing what was left, Relense had one destroyer tie a tow line to his cruiser. The others guarded his ship as they fled the field of battle.

  When the admiral guided his damaged ship to the repair dock. The locks latched the ship in place. As the admiral stepped out, he found the prince waiting for him.

  “We did a lot of damage at least. He turned back from the pursuit because he was so badly banged up.” The prince flashed a smile.

  “No, he turned back because he wants Luden to finish us off. We can expect his fleet in our space in a day or two. We’re done. We fled the field of battle.”

  “How dare you talk like a defeatist. We’ll still prevail.”

  “I resign.” The admiral tore his insignia’s off his uniform and handed them to the prince, then walked away.

  Chapter 19

  Border of Onderi Sector

  Ludin gloated as he read the reports of the battle. Prince Daserant was the first to flee when the trap was sprung. That wiped the arrogant smile off the murderer’s face. The fleet was still intact, but without a carrier, a cruiser and a handful of destroyers. The remaining ships were shot up and needing repair. He rubbed his hands together in glee.

  Grabbing his communicator, Luden said, “You have done well, Atarius.”

  The picture of his uncle appeared on the screen. He was wrapped in a blanket and had a tissue in his hand blotted his nose. “I will leave the rest up to your pleasure. Daserant’s admiral has quit. I admired what he did. He left before any more damage was done to his fleet. I was hoping to wipe them out, but called off the chase. I don’t want to lose any more men.”

  “It’s just as well. I want some of the fun. My fleet will cross the border at full speed. They know we’re coming and I expect a hot reception, but I don’t care. Daserant will die for what he did to my father.” A wicked smile crossed the young prince’s lips.

  “Carpatian is nowhere to be found. The prince has hidden him well. My spies have looked everywhere.” Atarius dabbed his nose with the tissue again.

  “The heir must die. I will find him.”

  “The galaxy is a big place.” The screen went blank.

  Luden nodded at his admiral. “It is time.”

  His admiral stiffened. “Battle formation, full speed ahead.”

  The ships rumbled to life as the sped across the border.

  Three destroyers orbited the planet Kylos. “We are here, my Prince,” the captain said.

  “Here, where’s here? In the middle of nowhere. A mined out planted stripped of its natural resources. Is this where I’m to hide until daddy comes to get me? It’s pathetic.”

  “It is unlikely your father will survive. The fleet has been defeated by Atarius and has fled. The admiral has resigned and Luden is crossing the border as we speak. He was right to hide you.”

  “What? I missed the battle. It is my duty to fight.”

  “It is your duty to survive as so decreed by your father. I will send you down to the planet with only one guard. You will both be dressed in plain clothes. You will tell no one of your true identity. I will hide my ships in the nearby nebula then come to the planet myself. It is how it has to be until things settle down.”

  The prince scratched an imaginary itch. “I hate these clothes. Did they infest it with flees on purpose? Is that part of the disguise?”

  “I assure you my prince, that the clothes are clean and not infested.”

  “It’s this villa that’s infested then. I could be sitting in my palace. This is a mere peasant hovel.”

  “This is my ancestral home, my prince.” There was a bite to the officer’s tone.

  “A dog wouldn’t live here. You should have torn it down. It stinks and it…”

  A flash from the officer’s blaster ended the prince’s last sentence.

  Realizing what he had done, the officer put the gun to his own head and pulled the trigger.

  When the captain arrived at the house, he saw the two dead men sprawled out on the floor.

  “Oh, no. We’ve failed in our mission,” the first officer croaked out. “I must notify Prince Daserant right away.”

  “You will do nothing of the sort. He will die soon anyway. Let him believe his son is still alive.”

  “But, Sir. He will know something is wrong when we rejoin the fleet.”

  “My orders are to hide my ships and stay here with Prince Carpatian. The prince will be buried in the backyard and we will stay here with him. It’s a nice place to wait out a war, don’t you think?”

  The first officer gave him a limp salute and said, “Yes, Sir.”

  The graves were dug, the men were buried. The captain watched the whole thing sitting on the back veranda eating grapes. This is a nice place to wait out a war.

  Chapter 20

  Admiral Stenoff watched the enemy come. They didn’t try to sneak up, but had come straight for the starbase. The ships Stenoff had were shot up and damaged. He swallowed hard. So, this is how it ends. Six generations of a navy family. I’m the last admiral in a long line.

  Shaking his head, he steadied himself. Outgunned and hopeless, he still ordered, “Open fire.”

  Explosions echoed through dark space as both fleets hurled cannon fire at each other. Stenoff was knocked off his feet by a shell that hit close to the bridge. He stood up quickly, bruised and bleeding. Smoke trickled into the area from a nearby fire.
<
br />   “Damage control to the bridge.” He was sure they were busy with the dozens of holes ripping open his ship, but he didn’t want the fire to cause him to leave his position.

  Another near hit and all the lights went out. The emergency generators kicked in and dim lights came on.

  “Sir, we should retreat. Our ship is badly damaged,” a young officer begged.

  “We have nowhere to retreat to.”

  The prince came through the door. “Hold the line Admiral,” then he left.

  Stenoff knew what that meant. The prince was fleeing the battle and he was supposed to cover the retreat.

  The first officer at his console read the damage report aloud. “Main engine out of action. Auxiliary engine damaged but still in operation. Upper turret is gone, the forward lower turret out of action. Sir, only one of our main guns is firing. Fires are breaking out all over. Damage control teams are all dead or wounded.”

  Admiral Stenoff stood straight and tall. He had done his best under the circumstances. He no longer had a choice. “Abandon ship.”

  The five destroyers had sneaked around the back of the enemy fleet. They laid low. They only had the one mission in the battle to destroy Prince Daserant’s ship.

  “There it is,” the ensign reported. The captain came over and looked at the scanner. It was no wonder that the small fast ship had been able to escape the last battle. It had a low electronics signature.

  “All ships, fire on that object.”

  Fifteen energy bolts hit the small craft all at once. It blew into a million pieces.

  “Tell Prince Luden that Daserant is dead.”

  Luden smiled at the news. Everything else was going well. The battleship Torstar was abandoned and floating helplessly in space. Two cruisers had been pummeled into submission. Most of the enemy’s destroyers had turned tail and run.