The Shattered Empire (The Shadow Space Chronicles Book 2)

by Kal Spriggs

  Mason fiddled with attack vectors for a moment. They would flash into missile range in only a few minutes now as Mason adjusted their own vector closer to the enemy force. The one thing the Colonials had in number was missiles, he knew. “Lauren, you've got interceptor fire. Be prepared, they'll volley everything they have in a single salvo.” He saw her nod absently as she keyed up fire commands. In reality, he could have avoided jamming until the enemy missile launch to maintain an edge, but he liked to see what the enemy had available. So far he was impressed with their training, but not so much with their equipment.

  The Defiance-class destroyers mounted external missile racks only, while the Forerunners had armored missile bays, which meant they could, in theory, wait to launch them until later. The Independences mounted both four internal tubes and an external set of interceptor missile racks. Mason wondered, though, if a commander corrupt enough to be bought out by Nova Corp into protecting their squatter mining colony was the type to sell off some of his 'excess' munitions.

  Sure enough, the missile salvo was very light. Most of it came from the Forerunners in the rear of the formation. Either he's feeling the expense or he's trying to fool me, Mason thought. Still, the forty missiles in flight were impressive enough. For that matter, he was entirely certain that the other commander hadn't volleyed his interceptor missiles. He probably wanted those against any return salvo or fighters that Mason would launch. Since the Kraken didn't mount any missile systems other than those aboard her two squadrons of fighters, Mason was happy enough to just face the flight of heavy missiles.

  Mason bit his lip as he watched Lauren deploy the defensive fire. She began with the main guns, of which Mason entirely approved. Depending on the bank emitter setting they could engage out to twenty five thousand kilometers with highly focused bursts. She used the secondary battery to thin out the ones that slipped through and had the inner array of pulse weapons set to intercept the handful of leakers.

  Mason could tell she had trained extensively with the simulations he had given her. He felt at once both a little proud of her and somewhat daunted. She had taken to the ship and it's weapons like a fish to water... with no background besides the basic training the Chxor had provided her as a missile tech. As he watched, he sent the Kraken through the preprogrammed evasive maneuvers to ensure that if anything did slip past her, it wouldn't have an easy target.

  As it was, three of the forty missiles detonated. The closest was well clear of them. “Emissions suggests fission warhead, fifteen megaton yield,” Dale Peterson said nervously.

  Mason gave a loud laugh at that, “He's firing pop guns at us, is he?” The fifteen megaton fission warheads were relatively dangerous, but not nearly as nasty as some of the newer warheads that the RLF used, much less ones available from Nova Roma, the Centauri Confederation, or even from Port Klast. “Launch the fighter squadrons, tell them to take up pattern delta.”

  His fighters deployed and Mason felt a bit of his tension ease. He noted that Dale Peterson had identified what he thought was the enemy flagship, a Forerunner that was at the very rear of the formation. Now I really have a good target, Mason thought.

  The enemy force came closer. “They're hitting us with active lidar, I can't jam that, Captain,” Mendoza said nervously.

  Mason updated the evasive patterns and the indicators of active lidar hits dropped off sharply as the ship jinked in ways such a large ship had no business moving. Mason let out another braying laugh as targeting data fed through his systems. He highlighted the enemy flagship as Lauren's primary target and then updated the fighters with course adjustments and maneuvers as they began to separate on their adjusted course. As expected, the enemy force focused on the Kraken as the large cruiser continued to close the distance.

  “Enemy fire, heavy rail guns from the cruisers,” Peterson said sharply. He also updated the plot with his estimated projectile trajectories. The first salvos were clean misses, as expected, Mason saw. But the point was to limit his possible approach vectors and to bracket him as he came in.

  The other vessels opened up a moment later, with an almost solid sheet of rail-gun and mass driver fire designed to further limit his maneuvers and to force him closer into their kill boxes. Unlike their normal targets, Mason was certain the Kraken could take a few of those hits if necessary to escape... but he didn't feel he needed to do so.

  In any case, at this range, they were trying to limit his options and shape the coming fight rather than to actually hit him. What they didn't know, was that Mason wanted an open channel to close the distance. “They think they're herding a beast to slaughter, but they're about to let the tiger in amongst them,” Mason said, in full Stavros mode. For a moment, the exhilaration of the fight made his role seem almost real.

  He shook that off as he considered the positions of the enemy vessels and his own. The Kraken was poised at sixty thousand kilometers, well outside the enemy's effective range for anything besides missiles, with similar velocities and vectors as Mason maintained the range. “Orders to the squadrons,” Mason snapped, as he judged the vectors again, “Execute attack pattern delta three.” He had cued up a series of attacks, much like the plays in a grav-ball game. At the same time as he gave the order, he flipped the Kraken over and dove at the enemy formation at full acceleration. The big ship turned fast, far faster than the enemy had expected. Mason keyed up the target priorities even as his two squadrons of Falkes launched their missiles, right into the teeth of the enemy formation.

  Each of the Falkes carried two of the light missiles. The twelve fighters carried a total of twenty four. The dazzlers detonated in and amongst the enemy vessels only seconds before the Kraken flashed through their formation and began to engage them. The enemy ships were caught unprepared for his maneuver and before they could adjust, the sharp electromagnetic bursts knocked out their forward sensors and played havoc with their defense screens and maneuver thrusters. Two of the Defiance-class destroyers spun out of control as their older systems went haywire. Most of the formation came apart as the blinded ships tried to dodge the sudden assault.

  Mason gave out a crow of victory as Lauren's fire homed in on the enemy flagship. The Forerunner-class destroyer's emissions dropped sharply as systems went down. The forward defense screens dropped entirely, followed by the ship's weapons fire and then its engines. The enemy destroyer spun out of control and Mason brought the Kraken in close against the other ship as she played the main batteries across the enemy vessel.

  A glance at his screen showed the entire formation had come apart with most of the ships having adopted radical course changes to evade the enemy in their midst. Most of them had ceased to fire, though the pair of Defiance-class destroyers still under power maintained a hail of fire that looked to be more of a hazard to their own ships than anything to worry about in the short term.

  “Cease jamming,” Mason said. “Open channel.” He smiled as his screen went live, “I am Captain Stavros Heraklion. I am here to punish Nova Corp for their greed and tyranny, not for any violence against the good people of Ottokar. The ships which have opposed me have been dispersed. I am not without mercy, however, and those who surrender when they encounter me in the future will receive my benevolence. I will take the three ships I disabled as prizes, but I will allow all three vessels to evacuate their personnel before I launch my boarding parties. Any attempts to scuttle or recover those ships and I will destroy them and all aboard. Stavros out.”

  ***

  Ottokar System

  Colonial Republic

  October 28, 2403

  “Captain Stavros, darling, I am very impressed,” Admiral Mannetti practically purred through the communications channel. “You captured the mining colony all by yourself, without damage and after dispersing the local patrol force.”

  “Let's not forget that the mine's security force surrendered after hearing about me,” Mason smirked. In truth, he was glad for that. He hadn't wanted to kill any of them if he didn't have to. A
ll the same, he wondered if he had made himself look too competent.

  “I do wonder, though,” Admiral Mannetti said, her voice pleasant but her eyes cold with calculation, “why you didn't just kill the Colonial Republic personnel who opposed you, why let them go?”

  Mason stood up straight, “So that there are more of them to speak of how dangerous Stavros Heraklion is, of course.” He let his smirk go sour, “And as it is, I find live survivors are less likely to generate fanatical hatred than dead victims. I do get tired of the young idiots trying to kill me.”

  “Really, Stavros, that's quite enlightened for you,” Admiral Mannetti said with a chuckle. “I might even say beguiling.”

  “Beguiling,” Mason said, “I like that word, I'll have to remember it.”

  “Well, since you've already sent your prizes back to Halcyon, do you still plan to send down anyone to assist in looting the mine?” Admiral Mannetti asked.

  Mason almost said no, but he rethought it at the look in her eyes. She's still suspicious, he realized, and Stavros wouldn't miss a good looting for anything. “Of course. I only waited because I wanted to show I wasn't taking more than my fair share.”

  Admiral Mannetti looked somewhat doubtful at that, but the idea that Stavros was a greedy backstabber was one he was fine with her having, she'd be less likely to realize that he was here to bring her down. “Will I see you down there, my Lady?” He put a bit of leer into his voice and as he expected, she barely hid her irritation.

  “No, I've business to attend to up here, we're stripping the orbital defenses,” Admiral Mannetti said. “Good looting to you, Stavros.”

  “You as well, Admiral,” Mason said. As the connection cut off he leered at the bridge crew, “Women can't resist Stavros.”

  “Right,” Kandergain said as she rolled her eyes. “Who is going down with you, Captain?”

  Mason glanced at Lauren, but she nodded slightly at Mark Mendoza. Clearly she didn't trust the spy alone on the ship unsupervised while it was in orbit so close to Lucretta Mannetti. “I want you to plot us some evacuation courses in case the RLF people recover their courage. Lauren, I want you along with the cargo master and his crew, and tell the doc to come too,” Mason said lightly. He really hoped he didn't need Theresa Lourdes, for one thing, that would mean someone was injured. For another, she was not only one of Lucretta Mannetti's spies, but a creepy sort to boot. “Tell Asara Khemali to prep my personal shuttle.”

  He checked the screens one last time before he left the bridge and thought about who was probably down on the moon already. Admiral Mannetti had brought her carrier for the follow-on attack as well as the Ironwitch and the cruiser Nebula Dawn. He had also seen Captain Damien Walter's ship, which he still had to shake his head at... what kind of vain idiot named their ship after themselves?

  Still, Admiral Mannetti's pet boy toy was probably helping her to loot the defense platforms, given the position of his ship. Mason didn't want another run-in with the sulky idiot. He reached the launch bay just as Asara Khemali stepped off his shuttle, “Captain, she's ready to go, all fueled up. Try to find us some good loot, eh?”

  Mason gave the woman a glare, “You're coming too, these hands are made for fighting and loving, not for carrying.” He gave a casual wave, “Oh, Kandergain, you can pilot. I need to catch up on my sleep.”

  “Thanks, Captain,” she said with another roll of her eyes.

  Mason took the jump seat and sat back. Through slitted eyes, he watched the crew board the shuttle, even as he thought about the next part. Asara Khemali and Theresa Lourdes looked nervous, Carlos Ortiz looked excited, probably at the thought of loot. Ostensibly, the raid was to punish Nova Corp with a secondary goal of freeing the contract workers at the mine. Mason had even sat through a briefing where they were instructed on how to offer them sanctuary on Halcyon. With Admiral Mannetti present, it was very likely to take a darker turn. Some of her people wouldn't hesitate to strip the mine of everything of value, to include the environmental systems that would keep the mine personnel alive. Well, he corrected, the ones they wouldn't kidnap and sell into slavery on an even worse hell-hole.

  A number of the big Centauri corporations and even a few of the ones based on Tau Ceti made use of 'contract' workers: men and women who signed up for the promise of work and pay. Some of those contracts were somewhat straightforward. Workers worked off their contract and in the process, could buy a ticket elsewhere, assuming they didn't stay with the company. Others amounted to wage slaves, paid in company chits whose value fluctuated according to the company ledgers, forced to pay for food, clothing, and equipment at usurious rates. Of course, since most of those corporations were nationalized under their governments, there was no recourse for them, they worked until they died... and the companies even retained rights over their bodies for medical research. It was a nasty, ugly business, and one more reason that Mason disliked the Centauri Confederation... and Amalgamated Worlds which had allowed the corporations to do that even under their watch.

  Of course, there were Colonial Republic worlds where they simply bought people as slave labor, no questions asked. Places where the local wildlife made farming by hand a dangerous prospect. It wasn't remotely cost-effective over the long run, but it was simple and required little thought on the parts of such slave traders or masters. For the comely of the slaves, there were brothels and the like and for that matter, there were planets in the Colonial Republic where gladiatorial style fights were not only legal, but supported by planetary governments. Flesh could sell and Mason wondered if he had it in him to stand by and watch it happen... or worse, to take part in it himself. I have to draw the line somewhere, he thought darkly, even if it means blowing this whole thing.

  Kandergain brought the shuttle down at the mine's landing pad. Mason unstrapped and led the way off the shuttle. There were already a pair of shuttles present, one of them painted garishly purple and gold. Crap, Mason thought, that idiot Damien is here. The shuttle's absurd paint scheme matched the ship in orbit.

  As if to punctuate that thought, there was a shrill scream, a sharp sound of hand striking flesh, and the sound of tearing cloth. Mason's head snapped around and tracked on the crowd of men and cluster of younger women, most of them in gray coveralls. The exception was one woman, her coveralls torn, a red mark across her face. Above her stood Damien Walter, the pirate raising his arm to strike her again.

  Mason's hands dropped to his pistol butts. He stalked forward, his long, panther-like stride took him right up behind the pirate. He caught the man's raised hand before he could swing it. “What's going on here, then?” Mason snapped.

  “Ah... Stavros, late as usual,” Damien said with a smirk as he turned. He went to pull his hand free but Mason clamped on it. The other man grunted uncomfortably and then his smirk faded. “You can let me go, Stavros.” His nasal whine was harsher than normal.

  Out of the periphery of his vision, Mason saw Damien's men start to go for their weapons. A cleared throat, behind them, caught their attention and the sound of a slide being racked caused them to freeze. Mason gave a cold, humorless smile, he didn't need to look back to recognize the sound of Lauren's submachinegun. “Damien,” Mason said, and he let some of the darkness inside leak through to his voice. “What are you doing?”

  Evidently, he didn't realize his danger. “These young women wanted to take us up on our offer to transport them off this rock.” Damien leered a bit, “I was just discussing payment.”

  Mason's gaze flickered to the girl on the ground, who clutched the torn top of her coveralls over her chest protectively. His blue eyes darkened at the spreading bruise on the side of her face. Mason's eyes came up to meet those of Damien and at last the pirate seemed to realize the danger. “Stavros, come on, they're just women!” At the cleared throat from Lauren, Damien paled.

  He really is a spineless, effeminate, little toad, Mason thought. He let the man's arm go and took a step back. “We're on business, here, Damien,” Mason said and pit
ched his voice so everyone could hear. “Which means even a ball-less, little fuck-puppet like you should be able to keep his tiny dick in his pants and not piss off our employers.” Mason put every ounce of his disgust into his tone and picked the vilest insult he could... which also described the man to a fair extent.

  Damien's face went pale at the insult and then his face flashed red with anger. His eyes flitted to his men and Mason could read from their stances that while they didn't necessarily like their treatment, they didn't argue with Mason's words. “You can't talk to me like that, Stavros!” He tried for confident and strong and came off as whiny and pathetic instead. “Admiral Mannetti will...”

  “Will, what, clean up your mess for you?” Mason gave a hearty and entirely false laugh, “Seriously, are you that much of a pathetic little doll that you need to call on your squeeze to do your work for you?” Mason asked. At his words, he saw Damien's hand drop to his own holstered pistol. Yet the white-knuckled grip he had on it suggested that he was more afraid than ready to draw.

  Mason stalked forward and leaned over the shorter man, “Tell you what, Damien, you have one way to prove you aren't a cowardly, lying, little shit-weasel... Come now, you've spoken about how fast you are, you even shot that fellow Archambault in a duel. What about me, here, now?”

  Damien cowered back and Mason shook his head in unfeigned disgust. He turned away and faced the women and girls. “Go back to your families. Tell them that Halcyon colony has extended an invitation to anyone who wants out of their contracts here. I don't know why they're being so generous, but if I were you, I'd take them up on it. They're a damned sight better than this worthless gutter scum.”

  “Look out!”

  Mason spun, half expecting the warning, even as Damien got his pistol out and fired. Mason felt a white hot line of pain across his shoulder as his own pistols cleared their holsters. Mason fired from the hip and his bullets stitched up Damien's torso, the last pair blasted through the other man's throat.