The Shattered Empire (The Shadow Space Chronicles Book 2)

by Kal Spriggs

  “Right,” Kandergain said. “I'd like to know what you know about the two of them and their organization. Mannetti always seems to know a little too much for a rogue military commander turned pirate and Collae is just too competent to ignore anymore.”

  “I thought you just dealt with the Shadow Lords? That's your little private war, right?” Mason asked. It seemed to him that if it was one against five, that maybe she shouldn't take her eyes off the table to deal with this. For that matter, it insulted his sense of self-worth that she didn't seem to think he could manage on his own.

  “Imperious and Invictus have both backed a play that I can't fight, at the moment,” Kandergain said. “Not without pulling the other three into it.” From her tone, she was more worried than she let on. “Lachesis is laying low, probably licking her wounds from something some of my people did to her down at Tannis.” She had a vicious smile about whatever had happened, but Mason didn't ask. He didn't like to be involved in her war in the shadows. “Sanctus and Gargant are both consolidating their forces.” She shrugged, “In reality, there are dozens of actions going on by all of them across human space and even beyond... but I can only be in so many places at once. I've people I work with to take care of the minor things, I'm the heavy hitter.”

  “Right,” Mason grunted. He would grant her that she was, by far, the most dangerous person he had ever encountered. That included three hundred kilogram Ghornath mercenaries, tweaked out cybernetic bounty hunters, Wrethe pirates, and even a face-swapping assassin. Although, Crowe was dangerous because of how devious he was, Mason thought, rather than physical or psychic abilities.

  “Unless one of them starts something that I can directly oppose, I've got the time to look into this,” Kandergain said. “So, tell me everything... and please, don't leave out the part where you thought donning those pants was a good idea.”

  ***

  Faraday System

  United Colonies

  August 30, 2403

  Alanis was surprised as she opened the door to her apartment to find the lights on. She was even more surprised when she heard the soft sound of music and smelled food. She walked forward, almost afraid it was some kind of dream or delusion, until she stepped into the dining room.

  Like Lucius, she and Reese had chosen an apartment in the building which had come to cater to military officers and families. It was small, cozy even, but she and Reese hadn't needed much space. Just them and the handful of items she'd managed to take during her flight from Nova Roma.

  A pair of candles gave dim light to the dining room. Reese stood near the table, a bottle of wine in one hand. “Alanis, I want to apologize,” his voice was rough and his eyes were bloodshot, yet she heard sincerity in his voice.

  Lucius had told her that he hadn't shown up for their departure to Melcer. She had assumed that meant that he had decided to cut his ties to Lucius... and to her. To see him, now, like this, was at once a shock and a relief. She couldn't speak, her throat too tight with emotion.

  Reese took a step forward. “Alanis... I was wrong to argue with you about this. I should have known that once you'd made up your mind, there was nothing I could say to try to talk you out of it...” he looked down. “I was afraid, though. I still am. You know that I lost my younger brother. I just can't stand the thought of losing you too.”

  “Reese,” Alanis sighed, “You haven't made things easy.” Part of her wanted to step forward and embrace him, now that he was finally talking calmly and not raving or drunk or angry.

  “I know,” Reese said. He set the bottle of wine down on the table, unopened. He stared at the floor, his voice distant. “I should have been here for you. I should have been there with you on Nova Roma, I see that now. I look back and I see missed opportunities. I could have done so much more for you, been so much more for you.” He lifted his gaze to meet hers and his blue eyes held sincerity, “I will be here for you now. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe and make you happy.”

  “Even allowing me to apply to the Academy and take their commission when they offer it?” Alanis said. It was a feat of will that she kept her voice level.

  He nodded, yet there was something unspoken in his eyes, almost as if he were still in denial. She wondered, then, if he hoped his apology would sway her from her course. Best to make it clear that my mind is made up, she thought. “I've already turned in my initial application. I've got my physical scheduled in two weeks. I'm going to do this... and I'd like to have you at my side when I do.” Alanis blurted the last bit out in a rush.

  Reese nodded and gave her a calm smile. “Of course. I'm just glad I'm not too late,” he said. He gestured at the table, “Now, let me make my apologies to you.” He flipped up the lids off the dishes with a flair.

  She eyed the dinners with a moderate amount of suspicion. Her brother was a skilled cook, even a connoisseur of food and fine drink. She'd become accustomed to eating well as a result. She had no illusions about Reese's cooking skills. His last attempt to cook steaks had ruined the pans.

  He must have caught some of her suspicion, “I ordered it from the restaurant that opened up down the way. When I explained the reason, they were very understanding.”

  She noticed his datapad on the end of the table and she reached for it, “Ordering out, I'm not sure if that's cheating or just good planning...” He reached out and snatched the datapad before she could touch it. Something like panic went across his face.

  Alanis snorted, “Don't worry, Reese. I already know you can't cook. I'm just surprised at your taste and from the smell, this couldn't have been cheap.”

  His panic eased, though something flashed behind his blue eyes, “It wasn't.” He took a seat, “But if it makes up at all for how I've made you feel... it is well worth it.” He poured the wine into two glasses and offered her one.

  Alanis took a seat of her own. She still felt off balance. The sudden change of heart was a bit too much. Yet, she knew well Reese's impulsive nature. He'd proposed in a similar fashion, though he had at least had the good grace this time to make some preparations, it seemed. She took some of the proffered wine and cocked her head, “What's the encore to this little dinner?”

  He gave her a smirk she knew all too well. “Let's see how this goes, shall we?”

  ***

  Chapter VI

  Melcer System

  Contested

  September 7, 2403

  Baron Lucius Giovanni stepped onto the flag bridge and gave Admiral Dreyfus a nod. “Any changes?” he asked.

  Admiral Dreyfus shrugged, “Nothing. The scout reports remain the same. Analysts best estimates are that the Chxor are focused on their recovery and thus the limited activity elsewhere in the system.”

  Lucius nodded, “That makes as much sense as anything.” In truth, the Chxor activity at Melcer surprised him. While normally methodical and occasionally cautious, the Chxor at Melcer seemed almost timid. His scout forces had spent the past week scanning the system. The Chxor had cargo ships and salvage vessels in place near the work station that he had attacked in the raid. The United Colonies forces had destroyed the station after stripping it of anything useful, but the wreckage as well as the extant debris field both remained valuable sources of raw materials and even some salvage.

  The salvage expedition's escort he expected to remain close. The four dreadnoughts and sixteen cruisers held position over the debris field, where they could guard the approach to their charges.

  What Lucius had not expected was the small occupation force which held outer positions flanking the wreckage of the station. The Chxor's typical response to any attack was to beef up the garrison force. Yet they had sent only eight of their dreadnoughts and not even a full complement of their escort cruisers. The oddly positioned force looked more like a skirmish line than any coherent wall of battle. As yet there was no sign of reconstruction, which also surprised Lucius. Even with Danar a relatively short distance in shadow, the Chxor needed this outpost to make this fl
ank sustainable in the long term.

  The small force they had in position might work against another raid, but it wouldn't last long against the full might of the United Colonies Fleet. “I wish we'd been a bit more aggressive with our arrival,” Lucius said softly. “If we'd known they had such a small force, we could have dropped in on top of them.”

  “We couldn't know, we didn't have time to launch the scouts far enough out to plan for it...” Admiral Dreyfus said. He quirked an eyebrow, “Besides, if anything changed from our departure to arrival, we would have no choice but to face it head on. For all we know, their next assault fleet will arrive in mere hours.”

  Lucius grimaced, but he nodded. The problem with shadow space was that once launched, they were committed to their course. Ships could, and sometimes did, drop out of shadow prematurely. It wasn't a good thing, though, and most gave it similar or even worse odds than a blind jump. If they plotted coordinates to jump in on top of a force and then departed, they would be locked into that course. It was a massive gamble and one that had paid off in some minor battles and gone horribly wrong in far too many occasions to merit the risk, normally.

  Yet, with the Dreyfus Fleet, there was a feeling of invincible power, Lucius realized. To take a gamble like that, knowing full well that even without things going entirely right, they should still succeed was a dangerous presumption. “You're right. It's just frustrating to see them arrayed that way and yet know that we're jumping in far enough out to give them time to reposition.”

  ***

  Melcer System

  Contested

  September 7, 2403

  Squadron Commander Thxan settled into his command chair as the alarm klaxons signaled an enemy force had arrived in the system. Tall for a Chxor, he showed no emotional responses such as panic or shock when the first alert had reached him and instead had taken the time to don his brown Chxor ship suit and to verify his suit seals and systems before heading to the bridge. He calmly took the time to fully inspect the initial sensor reports and then opened a channel to Convoy Commander Hrul. “Commander, begin immediate retrieval and evacuation operations.”

  “Of course, Squadron Commander,” Commander Hrul responded. “I assume the enemy strength is sufficient that we cannot hold the system?”

  “Yes, Commander Hrul,” Thxan said. “As estimated, the enemy has returned to the system in force. We will follow High Commander Chxarals' orders. For the glory of the Chxor.”

  “For the glory of the Chxor,” Hrul answered and Thxan cut the channel. He looked over at Communications Officer Rhxul. “Have you sent orders to the squadron as instructed?”

  Rhxul was of the Ruhl caste, one known well for being very rote-driven. He would follow orders, Thxan knew, to the letter, but not one lerg past. “Yes, Squadron Commander.”

  “And their response?” Thxan asked. If he were subject to emotions, he would have felt something like impatience, he knew. Then again, if he were subject to emotions, he probably would have been executed. Fortunate, he thought, that I am above such things.

  “All vessels acknowledge your orders, Dreadnought 510737 reports that the issue with their starboard drive pod is not yet fixed, but that they will make the best speed that they can.”

  Thxan nodded. Captain Zhxur had informed him earlier of the drive malfunction and Thxan had positioned the ship near the center of their screen line to allow the Captain more time to maneuver as they began their withdrawal.

  While a part of him thought it was unfortunate that they must cede the system to the enemy, Thxan did not question his orders. He had spoken to High Commander Chxarals directly and the officer's logic had convinced him of the necessity for tactical and strategic flexibility, particularly in the face of this unknown threat. They would give the enemy the system... for now.

  ***

  Lucius eyed the screen with suspicion as the enemy forces moved through a complex maneuver. Essentially, the enemy screening force collapsed inwards even as the transports and salvage ships moved out of the debris field and into a formation of their own. “They're going to run for it,” Lucius said with pursed lips.

  “Not if we can help it,” Admiral Dreyfus snarled. “Prepare to launch missiles.”

  Lucius shook his head, “No, we don't have drones in place. Firing at this range and with their formation intact will empty our tubes before we break their formation.” The Chxor screening cruisers would be in a perfect position to intercept their fire and to block their visibility to the enemy dreadnoughts. The evaluation of just how much each of those missiles would cost to replace in time was a weight on Lucius. The antimatter in each was a trade-off between fueling one of the ships. Any waste now might mean fewer vessels capable of fighting until their solar array was fully operational.

  In theory, they could send their faster vessels to overtake the enemy formation, but the lighter ships wouldn't fare well against that formation. The heaviest of their high acceleration vessels were the Nagyr-class battlecruisers. Those ships would be massively outgunned by the enemy dreadnoughts and they lacked the armor to take more than a few hits. Just one of the Crusader-class vessels could have ripped the enemy force apart... yet the ponderous ships didn't have time to close with the withdrawing force before they plotted a course through shadow space. We've so much damned power in these ships, Lucius thought, yet if we can't force them to battle, then what good are they?

  He glanced over at Admiral Dreyfus. Lucius saw a mirror of his own frustration on the other man's face. “We can't stop them,” Lucius said. “But that's not the objective. We'll take the system. They've been forced to withdraw and that's going to cause issues for them.”

  Admiral Dreyfus nodded. “I hate not being able to even get in a shot, though.”

  Lucius nodded, “Me too. But focus on the positive, for now.” If it were possible to win every battle in such a bloodless fashion, Lucius would take it. Unfortunately, the clean and methodical withdrawal suggested that the Chxor commander was one of their better ones. That in turn suggested that his commander was competent enough to give him orders to withdraw. Someone smart enough to preserve his forces for a decisive battle was someone who might find ways to effectively combat them. Lucius liked to know as much about his opponents as possible, it was time to see what he could find out about these Chxor. “Monitor their withdrawal, make sure they don't leave any nasty surprises for us,” Lucius said. He turned to the communications officer, “Get me Captain Kral.”

  ***

  Kral the Chxor had come a long way since being recruited by Baron Lucius Giovanni. He would admit to being a competent or at least thoughtful, officer in his time as a Ship Commander in the Chxor Empire. Since his capture and especially in the time since Baron Giovanni had offered him a place within his forces, Kral believed he had improved himself, which was a good thing.

  He had come to agree with the Baron that Chxor did feel emotions and that to suppress them was both an unhealthy form of denial and also pointless. Many Chxor, particularly some of the elite, in Kral's opinion, acted on their emotions and biases and only then justified it through logic. It meant that the Chxor Empire, built upon logic and utilitarianism, was at it's heart a flawed creation, for it was built upon a lie.

  Kral thought that under the Baron's tutelage he had improved both his technical and ethical skills as an officer. Leadership of the volatile humans still seemed out of his grasp, but amongst the other Chxor he had recruited, he had found a most pleasing well of loyalty. They owed the Baron their freedom, the ability to procreate, and even their lives. They owed Kral something more: he had showed them what it meant to be free.

  It was not a process without issues. Several Chxor who had initially seemed to handle the transition had gone mad some time later, overwhelmed by the rush of emotion, the variety of life amongst the humans, or even just by the option to make their own decisions. Still, Kral could say, with some confidence, that it was better for his people, this gift of emotional and intellectual freedom. Thus,
he had one thing which he did not find pleasure in... and one agenda which he wanted addressed.

  He was glad, then, to receive a summons from the Baron. He'd asked for an assignment to the tactical department of the Patriot, a position that his United Colonies rank of Captain was too senior for... but which he had explained as a desire to learn more about the integrated tactics that the humans used. This was true, but it also gave him an opportunity to observe more of how the humans interacted with one another. It was somewhat frustrating, for as basically similar as humans were to Chxor, in many ways they were utterly opposite.

  As he walked the corridors, he hid a bit of his own repulsion for their ugly, lean faces and scrawny bodies. Some of them, those who spent hours working out, might approach a Chxor physique. Yet, even then, their faces were sharply defined and their heads too rounded. Most of them had pale, pasty skins... the ones who weren't odd, sickly shades such as light brown or yellowish.

  Their motions were jerky, too, rather than the methodical, calm movements of his people. Their expressive faces were so eager to show their emotions, with leering smiles, ugly grimaces, and a variety of expressions which Kral had yet to identify. In all, he found them repugnant in appearance... yet he did respect their resourcefulness and tenacity. None more so, he acknowledged, than their leader, Baron Lucius Giovanni. Kral stepped into the Barons office and snapped to attention, “Sir.”

  “Thank you for coming so quickly, Kral,” the Baron said. This was, Kral knew, some of the human style pleasantries. The Baron well knew that he held the authority and Kral's respect, thus Kral would come at his command.

  Of course, sir,” Kral said. “What can I do for you?” Pleasantries and courtesy conversations Kral could handle. Some of the bizarre human 'humor' still bewildered him.