Exodus: Empires at War: Book 2

by Doug Dandridge

  “Your Majesty,” came the voice of Captain Ngano over the com circuit. “We are heading out system at best acceleration. As far as we can tell there is nothing ahead of us. Which, unfortunately, doesn't mean a damned thing.”

  “And what are we going to do when we get to the hyper barrier?” asked Sean, wondering if he really cared.

  “We have two choices, your Majesty,” replied the Captain. “We can either turn over within the next twenty hours, so we can transit the barrier into hyper as soon as we reach the limit. Or we can go full bore out into interstellar space, turning over in a couple of days and making transit in interstellar space. I would recommend the later course.”

  “You're asking my permission on the course of action?” said Sean, wondering why the Captain was bothering.

  “You are our ruler, your Majesty,” said the Captain. “You are the one we swear allegiance to.”

  “Some ruler I am,” said Sean, shaking his head in the fluid. “You didn't even think much of me as an officer under your command.”

  “You are all that I have,” said the Captain in a pleading voice. “You are all that any of us have.”

  Sean thought about that for a moment, feeling the despair rising again. Despair for himself. Despair for the human race. He pushed the despair down, remembering his heritage. He was descended from the imperial line, from the Ogden's, the Lee's and the Romanov's. From the people who had led the human refugees from a handful of starvelings into becoming the greatest political and military entity of this sector of the galaxy. It was time that he grew up and faced what was, not what he wanted things to be.

  “Then I guess I'll have to become what you need,” he said to the Captain.

  “We have ships vectoring from the enemy fleet,” said the Captain. “They may have set our options for us.”

  “I'll become what you need me to be,” Sean whispered to himself, “if I live long enough.”

  * * *

  “It looks like someone just fought a hell of a battle in the inner system,” said Lt Commander Maurice von Rittersdorf, looking out of the view screen at Captain Dame Mie Lei. Dot McArthur was heading in system about a light second ahead of Jean de Arc, all of her sensors straining to pick up all of the hours old information coming out from the environs of the inhabited planet.

  “I agree, Maurice,” said Mie Lei, looking at the holo tank that displayed everything they knew about the system. “And it looks like our side lost. Whoever the enemy is will storm over that planet in eight hours. And there is nothing we can do about it. Except for getting the information out to the fleet.”

  “What are your orders, ma'am?” asked the destroyer commander, leaning forward in his seat.

  “One of us needs to get back to sector HQ with this information,” she said, looking into the screen over steepled fingers. “It doesn't really matter which one, as long as they find out. If they just keep sending ships in here piecemeal, not sure of what is happening; they'll just get chewed up.”

  The Captain sat for a moment, thinking about her options. The enemy can't have any ships faster than mine in hyper, can they? she thought. Hyper VII was the final dimension capable of sustaining matter as they knew it. Wasn't it? VIII was only good for transmitting radiation, such as com waves. Unless these aliens knew something that humanity and its friends didn't, which was entirely possible. And my decision might make the difference as to whether this sector is lost to us, and maybe the Empire and humanity after that. So I've got to make the right decision.

  “OK,” she said to her subordinate, trying to appear confident. “We'll split up. I don't think that your ship will give us enough additional firepower to fight our way out, and splitting gives us two chances to get out of the system. I want McArthur to boost upwards from the ecliptic, while we'll boost down. Transmit all the information you have to anyone you come in range of. That will increase the odds of the intelligence getting through.”

  “And the convoy?” asked the younger man, his eyes narrowing.

  “They will have to fend for themselves,” she replied, the anguish showing through her eyes. “It's of vital importance that we get the information back to headquarters.”

  “Yes ma'am,” said von Ritterdorf, nodding. “And for what it's worth, I think you made the proper decision. If I make it through I will make sure that the admiralty knows of my opinion.”

  “Thank you Maurice,” said Mei, flashing a quick smile. “But my hide will be the one they hang if it's a wrong decision. I appreciate the sentiment, though.”

  “Incoming transmission,” said the communications officer, looking over at her commander. “Double encryption routine Zeta Five.”

  “That's the highest level,” said von Rittersdorf, sitting up in his chair. “Where is it coming from?”

  “Insystem,” said the Jean de Arc's com officer. “General bearings of the battle.”

  “Message decrypted,” said the com officer. “Putting it on screen.”

  A very dark skinned man appeared on the veiwer, his face lined with worry. The eagle symbol of a naval Captain appeared on his uniform, which Mei was sure was a simulation, as no one in the inner system would be wearing a dress uniform at a time like this. The words HIMS Duke Roger Sergiov II (BB 1458) appeared at the bottom of the screen.

  “To all Imperial warships in the Massadara system,” said the deep baritone of the man. “This is Captain Sebastian Ngano of the HIMS Duke Roger Sergiov II. This is a priority One Alpha message. All ships are ordered and commanded to render assistance to this vessel. We have a passenger of utmost importance who must safely leave this system. Repeat, we have a passenger of utmost importance who must safely leave this system.”

  “One Alpha gives him the authority to request any assistance he feels is necessary,” said von Rittersdorf over the com. “If he is who he says he is.”

  “Data banks verify the identity of the Captain of HIMS Duke Roger Sergiov II as Captain Sebastian Ngano,” said the com officer. “Visuals match the man's appearance in records. Voice analysis indicates that he is under stress, but probably not duress.”

  “Tactical,” ordered Captain Lei. “Have you gotten a location on the transmitting vessel?”

  “Aye, Captain,” said the tactical officer. “Location is an Imperial battleship on heading zero four three by one seven three by two one seven. Velocity of point five c with an acceleration of two hundred and eighty four gees.”

  “So they are tanked,” said Rittersdorf. “Beating ass for elbows out of the system.”

  “It must have been important for them to leave the inner system before the battle was joined,” said the tactical officer.

  “We have enemy ships on our vector,” said the Captain on the transmission. “Probably more that we can handle. They have the acceleration to catch us, and they will catch us. Our VIP must be gotten safely from the system. This is an Alpha One priority.”

  “Captain,” said the com officer, her voice rising. “Checking the Sergiov's records indicate that a Lieutenant SG Sean Ogden Lee Romanov is serving aboard the battleship. Maybe that's who they are trying to get to safety.”

  “Isn't he the third living son of the Emperor,” said von Rittersdorf. “Why the priority? He isn't even the spare.”

  “Unless something happened that we don't know about,” said Captain Lei, looking over at her com officer.

  “Send a transmission to that ship, Lieutenant,” she ordered the officer. “Coded Zeta Five. Inform the Captain of my intentions to come to his aid.”

  “Orders for McArthur?” asked von Rittersdorf, his brows furrowing.

  “I don't see where your ship will be of much help to us if we get into a full out battle,” she replied. “And I really hope we can get in and out without having to get into a knock down drag out. So your prior orders stand. Get out of the system and get that intelligence to command. On my authority.”

  “Yes, ma'am,” agreed the Commander, nodding his head. “We're heading out. Von Rittersdorf out.”


  “Godspeed, Commander,” Captain Lei whispered under her breath.

  “Helm. Set an intercept course for that battleship.”

  “Aye, ma'am,” replied the rating who was steering the battle cruiser. “Setting course for intercept of the battleship.”

  “We should be matching courses in twelve hours ma'am,” called out the navigator from her station.

  “Very good,” said Mei Lei, wondering how much difference it would make if it wasn't. The laws of physics controlled their actions now that a decision had been made.

  “Tactical,” she said as she swiveled her seat, looking over at the weapons station. “I want a solution on those enemy ships ASAP. Then I want you to fire a full three spreads of long range missiles at them. Let's get their attention. And maybe we'll get lucky.”

  “Aye, ma'am,” replied the tactical officer, setting his board to track the enemy ships and come up with the optimum firing solution.

  “I will be in my cabin for the next couple of hours,” said the Captain, standing from her seat. “Crew is to rotate off station for meals and rest breaks. All crew to be at stations in armor when we are four hours out from Sergiov.”

  “Aye ma'am,” echoed the officers as the Captain left the bridge, wondering if the decisions she had made would allow her ship to accomplish its new mission. And maybe even bring its crew back home alive.

  * * *

  “We are passing through the debris of their fleet, my Lord,” said the tactical officer. “Our first wave of missiles should be striking their orbital fortresses by now.”

  “Good,” said Low Admiral Hrissnammartanama, wiping his muzzle with a mid-hand and giving his cup back to a slave for refilling. “Very good. I would prefer to make an easy planetary insertion, without having to worry about battling those monsters.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” agreed the officer. “It would be well to. My Lord,” said the officer, his voice rising and his eyes widening. “We have launches. Hundreds of missiles. Nay, over a thousand missiles. Accelerating at five thousand gravities.”

  “From where?” demanded the Low Admiral, coming to his feet and slapping the cup bearing slave from his path. The being landed hard on the floor of the command chamber, the bottle of wine flying from his hand to smash over the hard surface. He looked up with fear etched on his face, as the Lord of the ship strode over him without a backward glance.

  “We have no launching vessels on sensors,” said the tactical officer, panic in his eyes. “I don't know where they are coming from. All ships are sweeping the area. First impacts in less than one minute.”

  “Find those launch vessels,” said the Admiral, growling deep in his throat. “Find them before they launch another spread.”

  “Sensors are backtracking the enemy missiles,” said the tactical officer, moving around his panel to put some distance between himself and his towering Lord. “They are coming from the debris field. But there are no launch vessels among the debris. Only debris.”

  “The enemy commander reaches from beyond the grave with his cleverness,” said Hrissnammartanama. “He seeded space with launching pods, mines, whatever they call them.”

  “We will defeat this stratagem,” replied the tactical officer. “Their weapons are not effective enough to destroy the fleet.”

  The Admiral watched the holo display as the red arrows moved toward his ships, and the green arrows of counter missiles reached out to intercept them. Red arrows began to drop off the display, though others launched as soon as their platforms got within range of a Ca’cadasan ship.

  The arrows came too close to one of the scout ships. The holo displayed the blinking red dots of missile detonations. The scout ship's icon began to blink as well, then went bright red before it faded from existence. Hrissnammartanama looked up at a wall display to watch the scout convert into glowing plasma, which was then kicked out by the greater fury of the internal explosion of its onboard antimatter.

  Other ships were hit, some sustaining light damage from near misses, others taking the full hits of gigaton warheads. Within minutes it was over, and three Ca’cadasan battleships had joined the obliterated scout ship, while a pair of battleships and numerous lesser vessels had been damaged to the point where they were of no use to the Low Admiral.

  “They have exacted partial revenge,” said the Admiral, watching the display. He stood there for minutes, as the remaining ships of the force he had led to this system continued to decelerate toward the planet. He then turned away from the frightened tactical officer and walked back to his seat, motioning for the slave, who had picked himself up and cleaned the broken bottle's remains, to bring him more of the wine.

  * * *

  “We have an incoming transmission, sir,” said the com officer on Sergiov. Everyone was in the tanks, jacked into the systems. The battle was well behind them, and the Captain was trying to squeeze everything he could out of his ship, hoping against hope that the enemy would not catch him before he was able to escape the system. Or get his passenger on a ship that could. The ships that were following him were still a half billion kilometers behind. But even with his crew in the tanks the cruiser class ships of the enemy were still generating twenty-five gravities more acceleration than his ship was capable of.

  They were also continuously firing missiles at his ship, and he was continuously firing back at them. So far Sergiov had been lucky enough to take out everything that was coming after them. Part of that was that the ship was accelerating away from the vessels that were firing at him, which took off a small but significant amount of the firing ships' terminal missile velocity. And the chasing ships were adding to his missiles' terminal velocity, allowing him to get in some close detonations through their defenses.

  “What do we have?” he asked through the net, not sure what they had coming his way and trying not to allow his hopes to get too high.

  “Jean de Arc,” replied the com tech, looking through the data banks. “Hyper VII capable battle cruiser of latest design.”

  Damn , thought the Captain. It was better than he had hoped. The latest design of hyper VII ships were not only as fast as anything known in hyperspace, able to reach the highest transmittable dimension, they could pile on twenty gravities of acceleration better than any hyper VI battle cruiser, which gave them a forty-five gravity advantage over the Sergiov. About the same as the pursuing Ca’cadasan ships. That came at a cost, though, as the battle cruiser carried about half the missile load of a hyper VI ship of that class. But a full complement of defensive ordnance.

  “Transmission decrypted,” said the com officer, leaving the command circuit as the replay of the signal was routed to the Captain's private band.

  “This is Captain Dame Mei Lei,” said the slender Chinese woman who appeared on the vid. “We have received your message and are on our way at best standard speed to your location. ETA twelve hours, ten minutes. Hang in there Sergiov, and we will be there to come to the rescue, at least for your passenger.”

  “Best standard speed,” cursed Ngano, looking at the calm young woman in whose hands the fate of his passenger would rest.

  “Send a return message on tight beam,” ordered the Captain, summoning his com officer back to the command circuit. “Eyes only for the Captain. I'll leave it to her to tell whomever on her crew she sees fit to give the information to. But I want her to know exactly who the passenger is, his importance to the Empire, and my request that they get in the tanks and pile on all the accel they can manage.”

  “Yes sir,” replied the com tech, giving the Captain a virtual nod over the net. He cut the circuit so he could compose the message and send out the simulacrum of the Captain over the tight beam.

  That will shave a half an hour off their arrival time, thought Ngano, going over the possible scenarios in his mind. His ship might be a wreck by that time, but as long as the Emperor was still alive, and could be transported to that fast ship, he would have accomplished his mission.

  * * *

&nb
sp; Captain Dame Mei Lei sat in her day cabin, the one attached to the bridge, holding Satin, her silver and smoke Himalayan, in her lap. The cat was purring while the Captain stroked it, watching the vid of the Sergiov's Captain's most recent message.

  “So this young man is now the Emperor,” continued the Captain, looking out at her from an hour ago in real time. “He must be gotten to safety, no matter what. So, Captain Lei, though I do not have command over you, I am requesting that you get everyone in the tanks and pile on the extra thirty gravities. The Emperor's life is in your hands, and your hands alone.”

  “Damn,” cursed the Captain, looking down at her beloved pet. “I guess I need to get you ready for the tank as well. I know you don't like this, precious, but I have no choice.”

  The Captain massaged a point on the cat's back in a certain way. The cat purred for a moment, then went completely limp as its conditioning was activated.

  “Bridge,” said the Captain as she lifted the cat from her lap and carried him to the pet tank that was installed in the cabin. The com circuit heard her command and connected her to the bridge.

  “Yes, Captain,” said the tac officer, who had the con in her absence.

  “Signal the ship to prepare to tank,” she ordered while she slipped the breathing mask over the cat's face and checked the seal. “We go to emergency boost in ten minutes.”

  “Aye Captain,” came the reply from the bridge. “Emergency boost in ten minutes. Computing course change for intercept at new velocity and trajectory.”

  Mei Lei lay the cat gently into the fluid tank, then checked that he was breathing normally. Satisfied, she pushed the commit button and the tank sealed itself, protecting the delicate animal from the acceleration that was to come. She then hurried out of the cabin and onto the bridge, where the tanks had already raised from their storage areas beneath the floor and were starting to fill with fluid.