Empire's Birth (Empire Rising Book 9)

by D. J. Holmes

  *

  Marauder.

  Hurlang sat in silence as he watched the massive battle unfold around him. His flagship and the fleet directly under his command were pummeling the Alliance fleet that had come from Varanni Prime. The larger of the two Alliance fleets had been reduced by a third. More than a thousand of their ships had been destroyed. More importantly, he knew he could finish them off. When he did, the Alliance fleet would be done. Yet, the cost was mounting. He had lost almost as many ships of his own as he had destroyed. Worse, he had almost no idea what was going on with the other battle. Under Admiral Famagan’s ships had pursued the Alliance fleet into one of the gas giant’s planetary rings. At such a distance, Marauder’s sensors were unable to make any sense of what was going on.

  Though he knew he was winning, Hurlang couldn’t stop going over the numbers again and again. He wasn’t fixated on the size of his fleet, or that of his enemy’s. But on the tones of fuel, missiles and replacement parts available to him. Four days ago news had come in of the Human raid on Jaranna. Then hours before the current fighting had broken out, another frigate had entered the system. This time it had brought news of the destruction of freighter fleet sixteen. He had been counting on the supplies being carried by the freighter fleet to push his fleet forward to conquer one or even two of the homeworlds of the Alliance species. To make matters worse, the Alliance fleet had struck at his freighters. The vast majority were intact, but he had taken losses. And they’ve been running us all over the system for two days. How much fuel has that burnt up? Do they know about Jaranna? It was impossible. Even if there was an artificial shift passage from Alliance space all the way to Human space; it was impossible. Hurlang had sent scouts out to search for such a shift passage, but nothing had been found. Even if it did exist, there was no way the Alliance fleets could know about the Human raid into his supply lines. He had just heard about it days ago. It would take weeks, if not months, for news to travel back to Earth and then around to Alliance space. And yet look at what they’re doing, Hurlang said to himself. The Alliance fleets had only committed against his own when they had figured out he was planning to give up chasing them and go after a juicer target. They hadn’t really come to fight him, just delay him. They were only fighting when he had given them no choice. If they didn’t come to fight, then they came to waste my fuel, Hurlang couldn’t help but conclude.

  As another Allied salvo came crashing in and more of his ships were destroyed or forced to pull out of formation due to serious damage, Hurlang didn’t see the losses in terms of Karacknid lives lost. But in terms of the supplies that would be needed to repair the ships, and the missiles lost that were held in the storage hangers of those destroyed. It was impossible for the Alliance ships to know about the raid. Yet they are acting as if they know! His suspicion made Hurlang check the data on the targeting patterns of the Alliance ships. A sudden hunch told him what to expect. When that was exactly what he saw, he let out a growl of frustration. In previous engagements the Alliance ships had focused their missiles on his dreadnoughts and battleships. They always tried to saturate their point defenses and score killing blows. Yet, in the current battle, the Alliance had switched tactics. They were spreading the missiles out evenly amongst his ships. Rather than overwhelm one ship and score multiple hits in an effort to destroy it, they were scoring single hits on many more ships. They’re trying to damage as many ships as they can. “They can’t know,” Hurlang growled, his frustration making him speak out loud. If he won the battle but ended up with a fleet that desperately needed repairs, he would be stuck in the Kalesh system. He’d have no way of repairing his ships. Not for months. He didn’t even know if, never mind when, the Humans would be driven from the systems around Jaranna. They could continue to operate in his rear for weeks.. They are sacrificing themselves to cripple us. Hurlang had already guessed that, but now he saw the Alliance’s strategy in its fullness. Whilst he was stuck in Kalesh without support or resupply, their shipyards would churn out replacements for their losses. Their fleets that were still operating in other sectors would use their artificial shift passages to gather against him and force another battle in several months. One he would not be ready to face. It was impossible, but somehow the Alliance and the Humans had coordinated their attacks despite the hundreds of light years between their territories.

  With another growl Hurlang considered his options. The Alliance fleets were still at his mercy. He could crush them and be done with it. Yet it would cost him many more ships. He’d have to pull back all the way to Jaranna or even further into the borders of the Empire’s territory. What was left of the fleet would need to be dispersed among several industrial worlds that had the capacity to repair them. Yet when he returned, the Alliance would not be able to withstand a second offensive. Almost, Hurlang committed to the strategy. One thing made him hesitate. The Imperator. If he fell back to Imperial space, even after such a victory, and only if it was to repair his ships before another push, the Imperator could still interpret it as failure. He could be replaced and banished to a life of ignominy. His other option was almost worse. If he disengaged and pulled back now, he could keep most of his fleet intact. He could then dispatch a force to secure Jaranna and send what ships needed to be repaired back there. He’d not suffer the shame of a full retreat, but he would still have to admit his offensive had been a failure.

  Deep in thought, Hurlang missed the first report from one of his subordinates. The officer repeated it more loudly. “High Admiral, Famagan’s ships are coming out of the planetary ring.”

  When the significance of his subordinate’s words hit him, Hurlang’s eyes snapped back to the secondary holo display of the battle raging around the planetary ring of the gas giant. “That damned fool,” Hurlang swore when he saw the number of contacts coming out of the asteroids. He should have known. He should have known! There was no way the Alliance ships would have fallen back into the planetary ring without a good reason. Not only had Famagan remained in missile range to engage them; he had actually entered the ring to continue the fight! There was a message from Marauder demanding Famagan pull back. Hurlang had sent it as soon as he had seen what the Alliance fleet was trying to do. But it was still half an hour away from reaching the Under Admiral. Stronger expletives escaped Hurlang’s lips as he turned his wrath towards the Alliance. They had some kind of gravimetric COM they’d been using throughout the battle! While he’d been forced to send messages at the speed of light, they’d been communicating with one another instantly! In his anger, something hit Hurlang. Yes… it makes sense. He had no idea how, but they must have a way! All of a sudden he understood how they were doing it. The Alliance had to have some way of communicating faster than light over much greater distances. That was how they were coordinating their attacks and raids. The realization that he had been fighting a much more prepared opponent than he had realized drained Hurlang’s anger away. He hadn’t been beaten in a fair fight. The Alliance had been cheating all along. They had artificial shift passages and FTL communication. How was he meant to beat an enemy who had abilities he knew nothing about?

  As his anger cleared, Hurlang forced himself to assess the new situation. Even as he did, a wave of missiles appeared from amidst the planetary ring and came crashing in against what was left of Famagan’s fleet. The number of Alliance missiles was relatively small. That suggested they had few ships left themselves. Nevertheless, the missiles claimed more Karacknid warships.

  There is no way we can continue this fight, Hurlang thought. If he did, he’d be left with nothing but a fleet of damaged and crippled ships. The Alliance would be able to repair what ships they had left and come after him. It was possible they could push him back all the way to Jaranna, or worse, back into Imperial space itself. That was not something his career could survive. A retreat was one thing but being beaten back was another. He doubted he would keep his life for such a failure. Releasing a growl of frustration that echoed throughout Marauder’s bridge, Hurlang
thrust his claws into the padded side of his command chair. “We are disengaging,” he said to his officers in as controlled a voice as he could muster. “Transmit to both fleets. Disengage and fall back to the supply freighters. Repeat, disengage. This battle is over.”

  *

  Handmaiden

  Becket couldn’t believe she was alive. The acidic smoke that filled Handmaiden’s bridge and the flashing lights and sirens almost made her think she wouldn’t be for much longer. Yet the Crian battleship was still here. It had taken multiple hits, but it was still there. Becket half expected to find there wasn’t much left of the ship beyond the bridge. But whatever was left, it was something. Even more amazingly, the fighting had stopped. The Karacknid fleet had pulled back. They were accelerating as best they could towards Kalesh. “They have given up on trying to finish us off!” she found herself shouting in excitement.

  “And trying to launch their attack against Varanni Prime,” Ya’sia said in a much calmer voice.

  “It’s better than that,” Maleck said from his command chair. He had several bruises on his face. “Look at the freighters around Kalesh.”

  Becket could hardly believe her eyes. The freighters were starting to break orbit. Yet they were not heading towards the shift passage to Cria, or Varanni prime. But back along the path they had taken to invade the system. The Karacknids were falling back! Becket wanted to shout for joy but then her eyes fell on the display of Ya’sia’s fleet. Just behind what was left of bogie-1 pulling back, Ya’sia’s ships were coming out of the planetary ring. Almost two thousand had gone in. Barely four hundred were now visible on the holo plot. Instead of celebrating, Becket closed her eyes in dismay. Her tactic had worked. Bogie-1 had been decimated but so too had her fleet. She couldn’t help but think of all those Captains and Admirals crammed into Handmaiden’s briefing room. The vast majority of them were now gone. When she finally opened her eyes, her mood did not improve for her gaze fell on Jorum’s fleet. It had fared slightly better than Ya’sia’s ships. Nevertheless, barely half of his ships were left. Hundreds of thousands of lives had been lost.

  “We did it Commodore,” Ya’sia said in a comforting voice as she raised a hand in a gesture of respect. “We did it. The war is far from over. But we have not lost it this day.” She looked around back towards the Karacknid fleet. “I suspect we have Admiral Gupta to thank for our enemy’s actions. Between you and her, we owe you a great debt.” Ya’sia looked back to Becket. “I’m afraid now is not the time for us to repay it. There’s too much to do. I need you to take charge of the search and rescue operations. There will be many damaged ships still in the planetary ring that need our help. They’ll be torn apart by asteroids if we do not act fast.”

  “Of course,” Becket responded as she forced away her negative emotions. She would have to mourn their losses later. “I can handle that,” she added as she began to work on the problem. She needed every functional shuttle to go back into the planetary ring and start scanning for damaged ships and escape pods. Then she needed frigates and maybe even destroyers to head in to tow out the larger ships that could be saved. Even as she started to give orders, more and more things that needed to be done came to her. As Ya’sia had said, the battle was over, but the war was far from done.

  Epilogue

  Badminton House, 18th June 2482 AD.

  Though he held an ancient hardback book in his hand, James was barely looking at the words printed on it. It had been one of a large collection of books his uncle had left him when he passed away. The book was about an 18th century British naval officer. Usually James enjoyed the distraction he got from reading the series. The novels had played a pivotal role in his formation as a young Captain. The ideals portrayed in the novels had worn off on him. He knew full well that was why his uncle had shared the novels with him. Yet, at the moment, James couldn’t bring himself to start reading. He had retired to the small upstairs library to get some peace and quiet from the constant demands being placed on him but it was eluding him. There were simply too many things on his mind.

  Any day now the first election results from the British, American, Chinese and Russian colonies were expected. The polling Fairfax had carried out suggested many of the colonies would willingly join the Empire. Yet the same polling indicated there were going to be problems in some of the other national colonies. Many Indians and Argentinians were far from keen on the idea of a former British princess and the recently crowned King of Britain becoming the leaders of the new Empire. It was not too long ago both countries had been at war with the British Star Kingdom. James knew full well his actions in those wars hadn’t enamored himself to either population. Trying to figure out what to do with colonies who refused to join the Empire was giving him a headache.

  A selfish part of him could only see it as a good thing if less colonies joined. It was a nightmare trying to establish all the legalization and governance structures needed in the Sol system. For weeks now he, Fairfax, Christine, Koroylov, Nicholls and many others had been working to set up the structures of the Empire on Earth. New obstacles and setbacks were all but a daily occurrence. And that was with just one solar system with two inhabited worlds. He had no idea how things were going to be rolled out smoothly in the colonies that voted to join. Though the Empire now existed in name, he feared it would take years of work to make it a reality. Years of work he would be expected to be involved in.

  If all that wasn’t enough, the military situation was more daunting than the political. Just two days ago word had come from Varanni Prime via the FTL communicator of the 2nd Battle of Kalesh. The Karacknids had been beaten back, but at a great cost. According to Commodore Becket’s report, the Karacknids had fallen all the way back to the staging systems from which they had launched their invasion. Disaster had been averted, but the Karacknids still had a powerful fleet. Once they licked their wounds, they would be back with a vengeance. Neither James nor the Alliance High Command had any doubt about that. At least Becket and Ya’sia survived, James said to himself. Despite the grievous losses, that was something to hold onto. He had already sent a request for Becket to return to Earth. With the news Emilie had sent via Doctor Spence and the lack of any news from Gupta and Lightfoot, he needed every good commander he could get his hands on. Someone was going to have to lead a task force to aid the Conclave species and Becket was ideal for the job.

  Thoughts of Gupta and Lightfoot turned James’ mind to Home Fleet. The supply freighters and damaged ships from Jaranna had returned to Earth three weeks ago. Yet, since then, there had been no sight nor sound of Admiral Gupta’s ships. The freighters had brought word of the planned attack on a Karacknid convoy. From what James understood, Gupta’s plan had been to fall back right after the attack. Yet three weeks had passed and there was no news. James couldn’t help the worry that was creeping into his heart. So many of his friends were with Home Fleet. He had lost so many already. He didn’t know if he could face more. And then there was Emilie. James didn’t know whether to be proud or furious with his niece. Rather than return home like any sensible Captain would do, she had sent word that she was heading off on a wild goose chase. One that was likely to bring her face to face with more Karacknid warships. Reading between the lines of her report, James was certain it was a minor miracle Intrepid hadn’t been destroyed by the Karacknid dreadnought she had fought. Nevertheless, Emilie was determined to press on. She knew full well there was no way for him to stop her. Even if he sent a ship after her now, Intrepid would be long gone by the time it reached the Folian’s homeworld. Though James was irritated by his niece’s actions, he knew he couldn’t blame her. He had done some very similar things as a young Captain himself.

  All that and more was going through James’s mind when someone gently knocked on the door into his library. When Christine poked her head through James wasn’t surprised. “I thought I’d find you here,” she said. “You said you were coming just to gather a few things. We were expecting you back at Sandringham House
hours ago.” She looked at the book in his hand. “One of your uncle’s?” she asked.

  James nodded. “How did you know?”

  Christine flashed him a smile. “Believe it or not, you’re not the only one he sent those to. I got one or two over the years as well. At first, I thought it was a cruel joke on his behalf. After I married Na I tried to forget all about you. The books were a horrible reminder. But in time I came to appreciate them. They gave me a window into your life I couldn’t have any other way.” Stepping closer, Christine reached out and took the book from his hand. She then placed it back on its shelf. “Come on,” she said as she took him by the elbow, raised him to his feet and leaned her body against his. “You always said you wanted to show me around the grounds when we were younger. If your uncle’s books can’t distract you, then maybe a walk will.”

  “A walk? Is that why you came here?” James asked.

  “Not exactly,” Christine replied as she patted his back with her free arm. “There’s more word from the colonies. Britannia has joined the Empire. But we can discuss that later. I want to see where you grew up. Where you played as a child. Perhaps, one day, where our own children will play.”