Books One to Three Omnibus (Armada Wars)

by R. Curtis Venture

  “Are we still combat effective?”

  “Mostly, Sir.”

  “Then keep firing at that dreadship. This is our last chance to take down the collector.”

  A deep pit of anxiety formed in the centre of Betombe’s gut, pulling downwards and threatening to sink his hopes with it. The collector was now rising high above the ground, leaving the shattered remains of the facility behind, and his battle group would soon have to fight their targets in the clouds. That would not help matters.

  “Over a hundred of those things on us now,” Tactical said. “They’re on our other ships too. Some real problems out there.”

  “I’m seeing sporadic power failures in the fore port-side defence grid,” said Laselle. “We’ve lost all the turrets connected to it. Coverage at seventy percent.”

  “Dreadships are flashing us,” Tactical said. “Expect a barrage. Re-tasking C-MADS—”

  He had not even finished talking before the shots came.

  Love Tap reeled under the onslaught, and Betombe fell back onto his chair. The main battle map showed similar attacks slamming into his other ships, forcing them to fall back.

  “Move us away,” he said. “We’re not going to be able to weather both the drones and their ordnance.”

  “Aye Sir,” said Helm. “Backing us off.”

  “Come about and point us directly at them. They want to share airspace with us? They can have a taste of the forward cannon.”

  “Readying auto-cannon array,” said Tactical.

  “We’re going to execute a nuclear strike on that collector, Tactical. I don’t see that we have any other choice at this point.”

  “Aye, Sir. Commencing protocol.”

  “Admiral,” said Laselle. “Please don’t do this.”

  “We will fire off a series of salvos to occupy the enemy defences. All non-radiological tubes will fire decoy missiles.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “COMOP: have our other ships run interference the moment we start our attack. As much fire as they can still muster.”

  “Sending message.”

  “Admiral,” Laselle insisted. “We can’t do this. Only Ramm Stallahad will pay the price.”

  “Steel your nerves, Commander.”

  “At least wait until it reaches orbit.”

  “I can’t give them the chance to open a wormhole,” Betombe said. “All that xtryllium. Whatever they need it for, they’re about to score a huge win.”

  Laselle looked as though she wanted to scream at him.

  “Admiral,” COMOP shouted. “Anomalous gravity field. I think they’re—”

  The entire ship shook, and Betombe felt himself thrown to one side of his chair.

  “Yes, they’re opening a wormhole inside the atmosphere!”

  “All hands, brace for impact,” Laselle shouted.

  Love Tap tilted and bucked with the impact of the shock waves emanating from the Shaeld wormhole, and a cyclone of furious air buffeted the hull. Helm struggled to level the ship, backing it off from the maelstrom.

  “Tactical? Firing solution?”

  “It’s too late, Admiral,” said Tactical. “They’re gone.”

  • • •

  Aker Santani watched the battle with building hope. Now that Fort Herses was within range of the dreadships, the chances of a swift victory had improved greatly for the Imperial Navy.

  The fortress fired its mass drivers for a third time.

  She saw the impactors streak towards the enemy fleet, collide with the aft end of a dreadship, and smash through the spiny protuberances which reached back from the stern. It did not look like a critical hit, but the leviathan listed none the less. Santani could just make out minor explosions along the hull, where the damage from the impact was greatest.

  Fort Herses’ mass drivers were, in principle, not that different from the rail guns Hammer used. They accelerated a fixed mass hard enough to give it huge momentum, and that energy was transferred to the target when the mass collided. The impactors which Herses flung at the dreadships had immense mass.

  Somewhere amongst the Imperial battle groups, a dreadnaught fired up its rift platform. The damaged Shaeld Hratha leviathan was torn apart.

  “Captain, message from the Admiral,” said Klade. “It’s delayed, of course, but she’s confirming your prediction. The Shaeld’s stolen ships are losing their tactical ability, in order of distance from the gate.”

  “That may well come in useful in other engagements, but I can’t think of a way to exploit it here,” she said.

  “Me neither. But you’re right; if the Shaeld attack any more of our systems, we’re going to have to disable the nexus to keep them off-balance.”

  “We’ll need to figure out an alternative comms method,” Santani said.

  “Maybe point-to-point wormholes?”

  “It could work. But only if someone can figure out how to fix that damned navigation problem.”

  “Another enemy support fleet approaching the fortress,” said Klade. “This ought to be good.”

  They watched in silence as stolen Viskr and Imperial vessels approached Fort Herses, accompanied by ships which Santani did not recognise. The fortress opened up on them with as many point defences as it had within its near-side firing arc, tearing them to shreds.

  “Yeah, have some of that,” Klade said.

  “It looks like the Shaeld are preparing to retreat,” said Santani. “I’m seeing much less offensive fire, quite a lot of flak cover.”

  “I see it. Yes, they’re manoeuvring to a common course.”

  “What’s that one doing?”

  “Where?”

  Santani shifted the view of the entire battle map, isolating one dreadship in particular. It alone seemed to ignore the movements of its companions.

  “It’s headed for the planet,” Klade said.

  “Just one dreadship? What are they going to accomplish with that?”

  “Maybe it’s going to join the others, in the atmosphere?”

  “But why?”

  They watched the great leviathan force its way straight through their own lines, using its proximity to Imperial ships to prevent any dreadnoughts from firing on it with their rift platforms or cutting beams.

  “What the hell was that?” Klade said.

  “What?”

  “In the atmosphere? You didn’t see it?”

  Klade tapped up a replay of the sensor feed on his holo, held it out for Santani.

  “Watch…”

  She saw a burst of blinding light within the clouds below them, a circular gap appearing as the water vapour was pushed outwards. For a second she could see all the way down to the ground, then the gap collapsed into a furious vortex.

  “Wormhole,” she gasped. “In the atmosphere.”

  “That’s insane,” said Klade.

  “Then it could have been Betombe.”

  “Not even he would be that reckless.”

  “The dreadship…” said Santani. “Fort Herses has picked up on it.”

  She turned her full attention back to the lone Shaeld vessel, still descending towards the atmosphere of Ramm Stallahad. It was aflame now, its hull pocked with craters and jetting out streams of burning vapour, but still it continued. Impactors from the fortress slammed against its hull.

  The smaller navy vessels moved away, giving their larger cohorts space to work with, and a cutting beam sliced instantly across space to slash at the dreadship. The energy pulse caught it amidships, burning deep inside it, then punched out through the hull on the opposite side.

  The dreadship began to roll, its starboard engines sputtering, and its stern swung out to one side.

  At the last possible moment, just before its entire hull was ravaged by explosions, it emptied its missile tubes.

  “What was that supposed to accomplish?” Klade asked.

  “They weren’t even targeting anything,” said Santani.

  She could trace the missiles clearly, flying off into the bl
ack without guidance or target tracking. Some of the Imperial ships fired off interceptors anyway, not taking the chance that any of them would be hit by a rogue missile.

  “Interdiction has ended. The other dreadships are jumping away.”

  Santani heard the words, but did not register them. She was still watching the wandering missiles, and had spotted something which made all the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

  “Those were decoys,” she said. “That’s the real one there.”

  “The ‘real’ one? What’s its target?”

  “The whole planet,” said Santani. “They’ve deployed an atmospheric warhead.”

  — 20 —

  These Worlds are Mine

  Caden forced his trigger finger to relax, willed it to move off that critical little piece of plasteel and rest safely alongside it. Throam glanced down at his arm, saw the blood seeping from his cracked armour, then paid it no more attention.

  It was truly Rendir Throam who stood before them. It was Rendir Throam, as large as life, but deep down inside Caden knew that it also was not.

  “You may stay if you wish, but this world is mine now. There is nothing here for you.”

  “Voice,” said Caden.

  “Motherfucker,” Daxon spat. “You killed two of my best.”

  “They attacked me,” said Voice. “Before I could give you this message.”

  “Who fired first, Dax?” Caden asked.

  “I don’t… Bro, I think.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “I don’t know, Caden. I don’t fucking know.”

  “I can assure you that he did,” said Voice. “If I had only wanted to kill you all, you would now be dead.”

  “So you just want to talk, is that it?” Caden said.

  “Yes.”

  “Go on then.”

  Voice smiled, in a fashion which made Caden think he was pleased things were going his way.

  “I will allow you to leave, but you must not attempt to exert any influence here before you go. This planet is mine. All of the Viskr colonies are mine. They belong to the world which is made.”

  “You want us to just walk away?” Caden asked. “You know we will go carry on fighting you elsewhere, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you just kill us?” Asked Eilentes.

  Caden inhaled sharply at the question. As much as he wanted to hear the answer, he was not in favour of giving Voice ideas.

  “I am everywhere,” said Voice. “I am in every society. And yet I rarely see such interesting examples.”

  “What are you saying?” Caden asked. “We’re your entertainment?”

  “No,” said Voice. “You are my study.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “When I observe your behaviour, I learn how best to defeat your kind. You cannot succeed. If you continue to oppose me, you will teach me how to win. If you do nothing, then I will win regardless.”

  “You won’t win if I break your neck,” said Bruiser.

  Voice sneered at him. “There is nothing to be gained by killing this body, primitive thing. Caden knows. I do not think he would thank you for it, in any case.”

  “What is it you want, Voice? What is it you’re trying to do?”

  Caden held little real hope that he would get an answer, but it could not hurt to try.

  “I want you to help me. All of you. We must fill the silence together. We must make the eternal world.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense to me,” Caden said. “It’s all riddles. Speak plainly.”

  “Your language has no plain words which I can use to describe what I intend.”

  “Try harder.”

  “This is the only way to prevent the Cataclysm,” said Voice. “All thinking life must yield to me.”

  “Life must yield?” Caden said. “All thinking life?”

  “All thinking life will yield; yield to me. Me, or greet oblivion.”

  “I don’t know if all thinking things will be ready to lay down and let you roll over them,” said Caden. “That kinda shit doesn’t appeal to most people. They just want to live as they are, without being molested by others.”

  “Do not try to claim to me that you seek a peaceful existence, Elm Caden. I have lived amongst far more races than you even know exist. The sacred covenant between all living things has been shattered time and time again by the conceit of your kind. If I do not act, then you are all damned. Your greed and your hubris and your hatred will end you.”

  Voice’s tone had become sharp, deep, and dangerous, as if someone driven to anger were holding themselves back from the very brink of uncontrolled rage. Caden sensed the rant was part of a larger ideology, but he could hardly begin to guess at what else it might encompass.

  The room fell into silence.

  “What exactly are you?” Said Eilentes.

  “I am.”

  “That doesn’t help.”

  “Voice,” said Caden. “Let’s say you just let us walk out of here and disappear back to our own space. What happens next?”

  “Next?” Voice said. “It is already happening. It can no longer be stopped.”

  “What are you talking about?” Caden said. “What have you done?”

  Voice smiled widely, baring his teeth — no, Rendir Throam’s teeth — and Caden found it difficult to remain calm. His throat and stomach told him he needed to be sick; his body knew already that Voice had done something dreadful.

  “Your armada is impressive,” Voice said. “But its leadership leaves a lot to be desired.”

  “No argument there,” Eilentes breathed.

  “Like you they have limited choices. When they do nothing, I achieve my goals. But when they act, I use those actions to my own benefit. It is most gratifying to see so very many ships dancing to my tune.”

  “You’re talking about Herses?”

  “I am.”

  “What are you going to do to them?”

  “Absolutely nothing. I would not want to eradicate a resource with such great potential.”

  “Then what in the worlds are you talking about? Why did you manoeuvre so many of them to the Herses system?”

  “Because of where they would have been, had I not done so.”

  “The outer colonies?” Eilentes said.

  “And the restless worlds,” Caden added.

  “So many troops deployed,” said Voice. “So much life.”

  “You’re going to deploy those warheads you stole.”

  Voice grinned sickly.

  “You’re going to turn them all into Thralls. You want a standing army.”

  “I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am for those weapons of yours,” said Voice. “Conventional means have proven to be so very slow.”

  “You still won’t win, Voice. You must realise that. You’ll only capture a fraction of our forces.”

  “It will be all I need.”

  “We still have the upper hand. You can try to make us afraid all day long, but the armies of the Empire are vast.”

  “You think you have a vast army,” Voice laughed.

  Caden felt his skin crawl. There was something in Voice’s manner which made him feel as though the war was over already.

  “I told you; I am everywhere. You do not have a chance.”

  “As long as there is hope, there is a chance.”

  “There is no hope. Hope is a delusion; the indulgence of the weak.”

  • • •

  Collis looked out across the valley and saw the entire capital of Serrofus Major laid out before him. From this vantage point he could see not only the whole city, but also the starport and the new garrisons which the MAGA had established.

  Behind him, a fire team of four troopers waited impatiently. One of them spat in the dust. Although Collis had little time for the military in general, today he was happy to have this courtesy escort.

  Truth be known, the unrest which had precipitated from his own acti
ons — and the actions of those two off-worlders, Castigon and Pammon — had unnerved him somewhat. He had not expected the Serrofites to take things quite so far. From way up here one could barely see the burned-out parts of the city, and the smoke had finally stopped rising a few days ago, but he knew the true extent of the damage. He had seen it up close.

  Collis had to admit though — it had certainly worked.

  After the damage they had caused, and the fear he had apparently experienced when his own House of Governance had been breached, Proconsul Kalistine had smashed down on the locals with everything he had.

  The Indigenous Peoples’ Alliance was now declared an organisation promoting and conducting acts of domestic terror, and anyone found participating or sympathising with their cause was an enemy of the state.

  Kalistine had backed up his decrees with guns.

  Collis raised his viewer and brought the farthest garrison into sharp focus. Yet another battalion had been delivered to the planet on the previous evening, and he had watched them march away from the landing pads in an armoured column. It had been quite reassuring.

  They seemed to be settled in their new accommodations. That garrison now looked as full as the others did. He wondered if any more pairs of boots were on the way.

  How many troops does he think he needs? Collis thought.

  But then the proconsul probably expected the rebellion against him to spread. And if it did, he would need those troops. The Serrofites might not be the most warlike of species, that much was certain, but what they lacked in aggression they made up for with sheer numbers.

  Collis turned away from the view and continued with his survey. The work was going well on the valley floor, now that his men could work in peace and the sabotage against their construction sites had ended. Before long, more than half of the valley would be cleared of weed, irrigated, and growing crops for the capital — right on their doorstep. The system he was installing would also be able to supply water to new property developments, if that was what Kalistine intended for some of the cleared land below.