The party entered the Bridge with a minimum of formality, Frith simply acknowledging when command was passed back to her by the AI, then took her chair, offering the one next to it to Alexander who shook his head and motioned Commander Vickery to take it instead. The Emperor’s bodyguard had arranged themselves along the rear of the Bridge, taking up acceleration seats the AI had newly formed for them out of the floor. Alexander and Adam both stood behind Frith, anchoring their battle suits into the deck for additional stability in the unlikely event of there being a problem with the new drive system.
“All systems confirm readiness, Admiral, we are ready to leave orbit and take position at your command,” reported Helm, “course and acceleration are laid in and confirmed by the AI to the rest of the Fleet.”
“Thank you, Helm, please give the acceleration warning and take us out.”
Warning given, the new drive engines and inertial dampening field came on, completely masking the acceleration as Dauntless moved swiftly ahead, reaching it’s cruising acceleration of 3-G within seconds.
Admiral Frith felt Alexander’s hand rest gently on her left shoulder. She turned and looked up at him.
“That'll give them something to think about when they try and lock onto us for the first time,” Alexander said, his face now looking a little less tense than when he arrived, “we will run the proverbial rings around anything larger than a scout ship. Even their destroyers won't be able to match our manoeuvrability or acceleration.”
Frith nodded, resisting the brief temptation to put her hand over his. “It took us twelve days to travel in from the Jump Point to Arisia, yet our return journey will take just seven. If this technology is made freely available throughout the Empire it will dramatically shorten transit times. The mercantile corporations will pay heavily for it and scream loudly if you deny it to them.” She chuckled to herself. “I’m glad this is your problem, Sire, and not mine.”
“Well, the next few weeks will prove decisively just how robust the system is and expose any limitations that the simulations and shake-down cruises didn’t highlight.” Alexander walked over to Adam and they both turned to watch the three-dimensional tank currently displaying all the ships making up the fleet as they began to move out of orbit and join the exodus towards Arisia’s Jump Point. It would take several hours before every ship was in position, so they stood and watched the display slowly change for a while, before leaving with Frith and her heads of staff to go over in her ready-room the plan to retake the first of many systems.
As father and son walked towards the ready-room, Adam spoke quietly to his father, leaning close so no-one could overhear them, “You do know that on Earth, the system we are headed for has the same name as the Norse God who some consider a trickster and maker of mischief?”
Alexander nodded, “Loki. Yes, son, the irony of it isn’t lost on me either,” Alexander replied, “In the same vein, I hope that both Forseti and Thor will be looking after us.
Adam knew who Thor was, having watched a “film” back on Earth before he left, but had to take a moment to find out from Vimes that Forseti was the Norse God of justice, peace, and truth. Alexander noted when his son understood the reference and leant back over to speak.
“If you are interested, when we get some spare time later, remind me to tell you some old family stories about the Vikings.” His son looked at him for a second.
“You mean?” he began, looking at his father, who simply nodded his head and smiled.
“Where do you think the legends of tall Gods in armour, magical weapons and the all-father comes from?”
Scene 24, Loki system, Sector 9
For the bored duty officer whose current role was monitoring the Jump Point, it was yet another featureless duty shift indistinguishable from the previous one. The systems star was so distant its light barely distinguished it against the background of those more distant and this far out, there was nothing of interest to see other than empty space and distant stars. Apart from the fifteen relief and rescue ships which had passed through two days ago to relieve those on Loki and finally destroy the Imperial Marines still holding out, nothing of any importance had happened and he was looking forward to spending some time with his friends tonight in the Station’s bar, in anticipation of two days down time. He resented having pulled this duty, knowing how the Station’s AI was perfectly capable of running the automated defence systems without him and he wondered if he had annoyed the assigning duty officer in any way.
The Jump Station was designed to stop any unauthorised ships either entering or leaving the system that didn’t have clearance, and even a small Station such as this was considered unassailable by anything other than overwhelming brute force. The power of it’s fixed weaponry was sufficient to overwhelm even the strongest capital ships and when coupled with strong defensive shields powered by massive fixed generators, it made a formidable opponent that few would attack lightly.
Resigned to another four hours of monotony, he leant back in the form-fitting chair, crossing his arms behind his head and made a cursory glance across the control panels in front of him. All were in the green, detecting nothing other than background radiation and five-hour old transmissions from the only habitable planet in the system. With a sigh, he opened up his music playlist and began mentally selecting his favourite tunes. Without warning, the screens in front of him turned red and the haptic surfaces on the panels around him began vibrating furiously, warning that hundreds of vessels with unknown configurations and intent had suddenly emerged and had begun firing at the station.
Screens which had been registering only background radiation for days suddenly flared a violent blue and began fluctuating into the indigo within milliseconds. The Stations automated defences blazed white hot in response, the very fabric of the Station resonating and humming at the energies being released and absorbed. The officer sat still, not knowing what to do, other than to mutely watch the screens in front of him, his mind racing at the suddenness of the attack. Years of training suddenly snapped him out of his shock, his mind instructing the AI to issue General Quarters, only to find it had already done so, along with alerting his superiors what had happened. Emergency distress messages to central command on Kiyami were being bounced back to the Station, the Jump Point having been destabilised by the attackers.
Not knowing what to do and in the absence of instructions from his superiors, the officer sent warning messages to both the recent relief fleet and the planet five light hours away, warning the Station was under attack. Message sent, a warning in his mind made him look at the screens again, to his horror finding that the screens were already in the violet and beginning to turn black in places, allowing some of the furious energies to seep through and impact on the Stations armoured hide, turning metres of it into incandescent plasma upon the merest touch. No messages offering quarter were being received from the attackers, whose numbers he noted were in the hundreds. Shockingly, he realised only four of the vessels were actually firing, the rest holding back as if observing, yet despite this, the Station's defences were almost down. In response, its weapons, capable of taking down capital ships with ease, were simply reddening the unknown ships shields. This in itself was unheard of, as he knew the Station’s weapons were designed to hold off an entire fleet. Resigning himself to certain death, he watched the shields start to blacken and fail, and spent his last few moments scanning the attackers, his mind curiously calm now he had resigned himself to what would happen next. The lead ship was of monstrous size, implacably black and almost invisible to the naked eye, but even though stealthed, the sheer volume of energies released in the attack and being reflected and absorbed by its shields set it out starkly against the black of interstellar space behind it.
On Dauntless, Alexander had given the lead ships the order to fire the moment they Jumped, using only the new beam weapons. With the Jump Point successfully destabilised, whatever they did in the system would remain hidden from the enemy once the Station w
as destroyed, and Alexander noted that, at this rate, it’s shields wouldn’t last more than a few seconds.
“Last chance to reconsider, Sire,” came the measured voice of Admiral Frith, watching the tank in front of her with one eye, the other running through the data pouring in from Dauntless’ AI.
Alexander shook his head, his face and lips set tight as he watched the uneven fight move swiftly to its inevitable conclusion. A small part of him rebelled and regretted the awful waste of material and lives, but he forced it away, compartmentalising it for another, less brutal time when he could afford the luxury of caring for the enemy. Memories, almost eight decades old, surfaced and threatened to distract him from what was unfolding now but these too he sent away.
“They gave my parents no quarter, “ Alexander reminded himself, “No niceties of war or any measure of compassion for the tens of billions who died in the first rebellion. The only honour I’ll give these traitors is that I’ll personally watch them die.” Now that the war to recover what was his had finally begun, he had no choice other than to harden his heart and make the decisions that were only his to make.
“Thank you, Admiral. Please continue as planned,” his voice sounding calm and unperturbed by what was unfolding in front of him, giving no hint of what he was thinking.
Frith nodded, then quickly turned to look at the Bridge’s huge display as the ship’s AI warned everyone that the Station's shields were failing. Ahead, patches of black on the Station's shields had begun blossoming everywhere, quickly merging into one black mass, obscuring the Station beneath it, although through increasingly large holes in the shields its armour could be seen exploding into super-heated plasma wherever the attacking energies broke through. Suddenly, the shields failed completely, exposing the Station to the full force of the attacking energies. Everyone on the Bridge watched, fascinated by the scene in front of them. A matter of moments later, beams reached the Station's armour and began chewing their way through into its interior, reacting with the massive matter conversion engines and beginning a furious release of the stored energies within. Milliseconds later, the Station simply vanished, consumed by the expanding conversion wave and the incoming weapons fire.
Many on the Bridge remembered to breathe again, having held their breath during the Station’s final moments. Other than Frith and Alexander, none present had witnessed the live destruction of a Jump Station before, not even one as small as this. All had seen the old recordings from the last Succession War, but even with full sensory immersion, these couldn’t compare to what was real and happening now in front of their eyes.
Frith broke the silence. “Helm, set course for Kiyami, standard orbit, with an intercept of the small enemy fleet ahead already inbound. Three-G acceleration.”
“Yes, Admiral, time to intercept is forty-eight hours, two hundred and seventy-three million miles.
The massive armada of ships swung as one, away from the rapidly expanding ball of gas marking all that remained of the Jump Station and began accelerating quickly towards the enemy ships. Although unaware of what had just befallen the Station, they would soon learn of its fate once the light from the one-sided battle reached them, at which point they would have a simple decision to make; hope the Emperor would allow them to surrender or fight and die.
The following hours passed quickly for everyone on board, checking and double checking everything with the AI, leaving little time for Alexander and Adam to be together, especially as Adam was shortly leaving Dauntless to take command of his first ship, which he had been allowed to name, choosing INS Brittania in honour of Karen’s homeland, a reference only his parents and she would understand. Adam was nervous, despite reassurances from Vimes who had been busy familiarising him on tactics and military protocols since leaving Capital.
Shortly before they reached the small enemy fleet, father and son had found some time to be alone with each other and were sitting quietly together in the stateroom reserved for them, going over reports and reviewing how the last attack had gone. The new weapons systems had proved very effective and even though the Station had been a small one, it’s structure and armament had been modern and impressively capable, since the colony had only been recently founded by the consortium.
Adam looked up and attracted his father’s attention. “Dad, why didn’t you offer the Station a chance to surrender? It’s not like you to do something like this. What if there were any prisoners alive?”
Alexander looked back at his son, his expression neutral. Several seconds passed before he spoke.
“Several reasons, Adam. First, the new weapons and shields needed testing in real battle conditions. Second, we don’t have the luxury of taking prisoners at this point. The first Succession War was a brutal affair and if I’m correct, the same evil genius behind that is now behind this new revolt, so we will be fighting with the same lack of rules as before. Third, it would have been too dangerous and time-consuming. Fourth, I’m done with being the soft Emperor. Where has it got us, son? By the end of this conflict, there will be billions of more lives on my conscience, on top of those already here,” he said bitterly, tapping his head, “In the scheme of things, a few thousand more names on my personal tally isn’t going to trouble my sleep any more than the ones already there do already. May the universe forgive me, but it’s true.” Alexander paused for a moment, closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing, “As for any prisoners we might have saved, I doubt there were any and if there were, at least they died quickly and with honour. I expect none of them felt any pain or even realised they were dying.”
Adam kept quiet, sensing the pain that belied his father’s seemingly callous words. The spoilt young man who had been sent away might have reconciled them with what had happened, but it was a different Adam who’d returned from Earth, one that was beginning to truly understand the weight of responsibility which weighed heavily on his father’s shoulders. The hairs on his neck rose as he realised that in the not too distant future, these same responsibilities would be resting on his own, and he truly understood what was ahead of him.
At a mental command from Alexander, the walls appeared to vanish, replaced with a representation of space, magnified to bring closer Loki and the stars and distant galaxies behind it. He opened his arms and gestured at the scene. “Look at this, Adam. We claim it as ours, this small part of the universe, sending people out to bleed and die for it, yet we are little more than temporary custodians. We are but a blink in the lifetime of the universe; all our schemes and machinations of no more importance than the sighing of the wind or the crowing of a peacock in the Palace gardens, yet we do what we must for the Empire and the people within it. In the midst of all this, what are a few more lives worth?”
He stood up, his voice taking on a bitter edge. “I will do what I must to protect you from having to make the same choices I had to, even if it means I have to lose what’s left of my humanity to do so.” He turned away from the view and back to Adam. “All I ask is that you don’t judge me too harshly before you’ve experienced this burden yourself. Do you understand?” Wordlessly, Adam stood up and embraced his father, trying without words to show he understood some of what he had to bear. Underneath his fingers, he could feel how tense and hard Alexander’s muscles were, mirroring his father’s mood.
All around them in the room, the uncaring stars shone brightly.
Seven days later, on Loki, an exhausted Colonel Smith read for the hundredth time the intercepted messages which had come from both the Jump Station and the garbled transmissions from the incoming enemy relief force before they both went ominously silent. He looked again for clues, but like all the other times found nothing of use. He couldn’t try and contact who or what the new players were as the transmitters remaining to his diminishing force of tired Marines weren’t capable of reaching much beyond the atmosphere, so the newcomers remained a mystery. Unable to determine how far away the enemies relief ships had been before they went silent, Smith could only
estimate how long it would be before whatever happened to the Jump Station would reach the planet; around seventeen days travel time at standard acceleration. His rebel counterpart, also painfully aware that something had happened to his expected relief force, had redoubled his efforts to take all of the city and wipe out Smith’s remaining Marines, looking to do so before who, or whatever it was, arrived, throwing everything they had left at his position and forcing him to use up the last of his missiles and drones to repel them. The fighting had ended up hand-to-hand and Smith looked down to the battle scars still visible on his normally pristine suit, running his armoured fingers over the numerous scratches and gouges where the smart-metal had been damaged beyond repair. Tall, even for a Marine, Colonel Smith could feel himself stooping as the constant movement and fighting caused his body to stiffen and complain loudly. He checked his suits power reserves and set it’s internals to massage mode for five minutes, hoping some of the stiffness would be eased. He looked around at his makeshift shelter, a space large enough for his aide and two other Marines, underneath an overhang of plasti-steel that once formed a balcony on a mid-rise building near the central park of the city. The occasional crack of a flechette could be heard close by, but from what side he currently no longer cared, more concerned about the ache in his muscles and the insistent rumble of his almost empty stomach.
Both sides were now down to just their armoured suits, shields, and swords, reserving what smart-metal they had left for occasional flechette fire when the opportunity arose. Rations were now becoming a problem too, as the local flora and fauna were not able to sustain human life without added vitamin and mineral supplements, most of which had vanished along with the colonists. Smith was only too aware that neither he or his men could continue for much longer at this pace. The lack of food and the constant guerilla fighting would eventually end with one side making a fatal mistake and the battle, such as it was, would be over. He had no illusions what would happen to any of his men that survived, as neither side was taking prisoners, not wishing to waste valuable resources either guarding or feeding them from the meagre rations they had left. In any event, he viewed them all as traitors and as such had little or no sympathy for their plight.
Imperium: Revelation: Book Two in the Imperium Trilogy Page 26
