Ruins of Empire: Blood on the Stars III

by Jay Allan

  “That we know of? What are you concerned about? Our attacks have pinned them down well thus far. With any luck, the forces we sent to the Badlands will secure the artifact and tow it back to Union space before the Confeds can react.” Lille paused, his eyes darting up, focusing on Villieneuve’s. “There is something else…what is it?”

  The spymaster exhaled hard. “This is not to be repeated, Ricard, not to anyone. Not even the Presidium knows.”

  Lille nodded. “Of course, Gaston.”

  “Vaillant has disappeared. She is overdue for multiple reports, and she hasn’t linked up with the other vessels we sent to the Badlands.”

  “Vaillant?” Lille’s normally unreadable tone displayed concern. “Perhaps they had some kind of malfunction. It could be something routine.”

  Villieneuve looked back at his friend, not thinking for an instant Lille really believed what he was saying. The Union’s greatest ship, the pride of the navy, hadn’t just vanished. Something had happened to it. And only one thought made any sense.

  “You think the Confederation does have forces in the Badlands…”

  “I think something destroyed Vaillant…or damaged it so badly it couldn’t make contact with any of the other units deployed there. We have confirmed that the Confederation has not sent a large task force, but we have not been able to account for all of their ships along the battle line.”

  “They would have vessels out of action, no? Ships sent back for repairs and refit?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “But?”

  “One of the missing ships is Dauntless.” Villieneuve’s voice dripped with hatred.

  “Reports stated she’d been sent back for repairs, no? She was in the line for months, Gaston. She saw considerable combat. It’s not odd that she would be pulled back for refit.”

  “No…but I’ve been able to confirm where she was sent. It wasn’t easy, but we managed to intercept and decode a transmission. She was sent to Dannith.”

  Lille just stared back at his friend for a moment. Then he said, “That’s a coincidence. Just because the port is close to the Badlands…” His voice trailed off.

  “Can we be sure? How many Confederation ships could have beaten Vaillant in a one on one fight? Assuming the Confeds have only one ship there?”

  “You think Dauntless is in the Badlands? That she destroyed Vaillant?” Lille still didn’t sound convinced, at least not completely so.

  “I think it’s a possibility we can’t ignore. Dauntless was ordered to Dannith well over a month ago. That suggests to me at least a chance that the Confederation has some intelligence on the artifact. That they at least considered the potential need to send a ship to investigate.”

  “You’re making a lot of assumptions, Gaston. Dauntless could have been sent there for refit, and nothing more. There are a hundred things that could have happened to prevent Vaillant from reporting. Don’t you think you should wait for more concrete information?”

  “What information, Ricard? That the Confederation has seized the artifact, that it’s back at Megara being studied by every scientist they have? By the time I have concrete data, it will be too late.” He paused. “We must attack Grimaldi base with everything we have. That’s the only way to keep the Confederation’s attention focused completely on the front. Absorbing heavy losses to take Grimaldi only appears to make sense if we can follow up on the victory. There is nothing else they can deduce from such an assault except that we have another supply base…or some other means to sustain an advance.”

  He looked intently at his associate. “You know, of course, we can’t. Grimaldi itself is at the extreme end of our logistical reach. They know this too…but perhaps a full-scale attack will convince them we do possess that phantom mobile supply base. Still, whether they believe it or not, they will have no choice but to respond with everything they have. Admiral Striker will not yield Grimaldi as Admiral Winston did. Anyone who has studied the man would come to the same conclusion. Even if he is unconvinced about our supply arrangements.” He paused. “At least it will take their eyes off the Badlands, if only for a short time.”

  “Do we have enough force to take Grimaldi if they commit everything they have? We have a lot of ships in spacedock ourselves, and more that were destroyed…and you detached a considerable task force to the Badlands. Attacking Grimaldi and taking it would keep their attention diverted…and it will give us something to show for the cost. Launching an assault and losing, however…”

  “We won’t lose, Gaston.” Villieneuve took a deep breath. “I have committed the strategic reserve.”

  Lille stared back, a rare look of surprise on his face. “The Presidium authorized that?”

  Villieneuve just looked back, silent.

  “Gaston…you are taking a big chance with this…”

  “And if I—we—gain control of a pre-Cataclysmic super-battleship? Imagine the possibilities, the utility. Not just in this war, but in the next. Even internally within the Union. The payoff is simply too great to ignore…and I will remind you of what would happen if the Confederation found that ship and managed to unlock its secrets.”

  Lille nodded, his expression one of uncertain acquiescence. “You’re right, Gaston. But still, what if the artifact isn’t what we think it is? All reports suggest that the Confederation’s Iron Belt worlds are producing new ships. We’re more than a year into this conflict now, with shockingly little to show for it. If the fleet gets blasted to hell, we’ll be stuck on the defensive for a year at least…and by the time we can contemplate another move to bring them down, they’ll have fresh ships pouring out of their yards.”

  “It’s a risk, Ricard…but what choice do we have? There is something out there in the Badlands, and even if it’s not the powerful weapon we think it is, there’s little doubt it will be packed full of advanced technology. As much as I want to secure it for our own use, it’s even more important that we keep the Confederation from finding it. And if Tyler Barron and Dauntless are out there…we’ve hurt ourselves underestimating him before. I don’t intend to make that mistake again. If Dauntless is searching for the artifact, we need to do everything possible to ensure that the Confeds can’t send reinforcements. Our force in the Badlands can handle Barron and his people, by weight of numbers if nothing else, as long as they don’t have to deal with anything else. I have sent word to Admiral Villars, warning him that Dauntless may be on its way to Z-111. I made it clear he is to gain control of the artifact by whatever means are necessary…and if Dauntless tries to interfere, he is to destroy her at any cost.”

  “Villars has four capital ships besides Vaillant,” Lille said softly. “Doesn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “Barron has proven himself to be a dangerous adversary, but there’s no way he can take on four battleships.” Lille paused. “And if he has indeed destroyed Vaillant, it’s likely his vessel did not escape that engagement without considerable damage.” Lille looked down at the desk and back up at his superior. “But, are you sure we have enough force remaining along the front to win at Grimaldi? You’re going to feel the loss of those four ships, not to mention Vaillant.

  “I think so, Ricard, though not by the margin I would like. I had hoped to distract the Confeds without committing everything, but now I don’t think there’s a choice. That’s why I released the reserve. It’s why I’m going up there myself. We need to put everything behind this…or give up the whole thing. And how can we back off, when such a prize is on the line?”

  “But if the Presidium finds out…”

  “That’s the other reason you’re here, my old friend.” Villieneuve paused. “I need you to keep your eyes and ears open, and if you hear anything, if any member of the Presidium appears to know…too much…I need you to act.”

  Lille turned and glanced back toward the closed door before returning his gaze to Villieneuve. “Just to clarify, Gaston, by act you mean…”

  “Just what you think I mean,” he said c
oldly. “Do what you do best, my friend…”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Inside Abandoned Spacecraft

  System Z-111 (Chrysallis)

  Deep Inside the Quarantined Zone (“The Badlands”)

  309 AC

  Barron turned away, trying and failing to disguise the abruptness of the move. He’d caught himself looking over at Andromeda Lafarge again. It was the third time…no, the fourth. He wasn’t sure what it was. She was an attractive woman, certainly, but she was far from the first he’d seen. Her outfit was provocative, he supposed, form-fitting at least, but again, not excessively so. Still, there was something about her, something he couldn’t put out of his mind.

  She had a strength…he couldn’t place it, but he could feel it. She was a rogue, at least by his fairly straight-laced standards, but leaders came in all forms, and he was sure she was a prime example of one of those. And his gut told him she was smart. Damned smart.

  He had come aboard with the Marines, unsure what he would find, if Pegasus’s captain would be on the ancient vessel…or in the Union frigate. And, if the latter, he’d been perfectly prepared to blast the thing to atoms, and Andromeda Lafarge with it, if necessary. Barron didn’t usually think much of the breed of adventurer that scoured the Badlands for scraps of ancient technology.

  But clearly, Lafarge wasn’t the normal breed of Badlands rogue. Barron had seen that kind far too many times, dull, cloddish, brutal, trading on their willingness to plunge into the dangers of the Badlands. Andromeda Lafarge was still mostly a mystery to him, but he was willing to bet she wasn’t dull or cloddish.

  Whatever her previous expeditions had discovered, this time she had clearly found more than ‘scraps of ancient technology.’ What she’d discovered would change history, and the arrival of her crew at Dannith, more concerned with rescuing her than securing the tech, just might have saved the Confederation from ruin.

  Lafarge was on the other side of the room, sitting against the wall while Dr. Weldon took a look at her injuries. A bullet had grazed her leg, a wound that was bloody and looked more serious than it was. And there were contusions, bruises all over her face and back. Barron knew how the Union questioned captives, and he realized that she’d gotten off lightly with a few beatings. But the sight of her injuries angered him. The Marines had taken Laussanne away, to a makeshift detention area they had set up, and Barron knew it was a good thing the Union political officer was gone.

  He saw Lafarge stand up slowly, nodding her thanks to the doctor. Weldon had brought a team aboard to treat the wounded Marines. The fight had been a fierce one, as engagements between the Confederation’s fighters and their hated enemies always were. As usual, no FRs had surrendered, but nearly a dozen Union personnel had been captured, spacers and support personnel in addition to the commissar himself.

  Barron’s eyes moved to the other side of the room, to the neat row of tightly zipped bodybags. He’d lost six Marines in the fighting, and another four were seriously wounded and on their way back to Dauntless even now. There were seven more lightly wounded, eight if he counted the nasty incision from an FR’s knife Sergeant Treves had suffered—a painful looking gash the Marine referred to as a “scratch.”

  The FRs had lost more than twice that number, all killed, of course, but preliminary interrogation of the captured naval personnel suggested that didn’t account for all of them. Rogan had explained that defeated FRs didn’t give up, but they often “went feral,” disappearing, hiding, pursuing campaigns of harassment against their enemies. Barron didn’t relish trying to decipher the secrets of the massive spacecraft with the threat of Union reinforcements hanging over his head, much less having to worry about his research teams being picked off by roving bands of “feral” FRs.

  “Captain, I just wanted to thank you again. I’ve been in danger before, but being captured by the Union was something I’d never even considered among the hazards of my…profession.” Lafarge had walked across the room, stopping right in front of Barron.

  “My pleasure, Captain Lafarge. I’m glad we got to you before they took you through their full repertoire of interrogation techniques. It’s not an experience you would have enjoyed.”

  “Please…Captain Lafarge is so formal. You know what a mouthful my first name is, but my friends call me Andi.” Her voice was hard to fully decipher. Barron suspected she was a complex woman, but the hint of flirtation in her words was unmistakable.

  “Very well…Andi.” He paused, hesitating for a moment instead of reciprocating immediately. It would be inappropriate for her to address him informally in front of the crew. But then he said, “I’m Tyler,” anyway.

  “Yes, I know. Your family is very famous…Tyler. And I’ve seen your own name in the news more than once. It seems to be the perception that you singlehandedly stopped the Union invasion.”

  Barron shook his head. “Far from singlehandedly, I’m afraid. Dauntless played her part, but the entire fleet stopped the enemy…and lost thousands of good men and women doing it.”

  “I can’t imagine what your people have been through.”

  Barron just nodded. It wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. Not with her. Not at all, really, and certainly not in the middle of an ancient ship, with the virtual certainty that Union forces were on the way to try and take it from him.

  “So how are we going to get this ship back to Confederation space, Tyler?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully, grateful for the change of subject. “I’ll have a better idea when my engineering team gets here and takes a look around.” Barron didn’t think it was remotely likely that his people, even Anya Fritz, could get the ancient vessel moving under its own power in any reasonable time frame. It was miracle enough that it was there, structurally sound, with some of its systems still functioning. But it could take years to figure out how to even operate the thing, much less fix any systems that needed repair. And he was far from sure Dauntless could tow something this large…and dead certain if she could, it would be at a snail’s pace.

  “We need to discuss ownership of this thing,” she said abruptly. “Or at least some kind of finder’s fee from the Confederation.”

  “I’m sorry…what?”

  “My people found this ship, after all. It’s only right that we’re compensated. Do you have any idea what it costs to bring Pegasus out this far? How much risk we took?”

  Barron looked back at her, his face hardening. “Do you have any idea what it costs to run a ship like Dauntless? To travel this far to rescue someone?” He was concerned about the approaching Union forces, about the battle he knew his people faced to even hold on to this amazing discovery. And she was worried about getting paid.

  “Tyler, look…”

  His comm buzzed and he held up his hand to silence her. She stopped speaking and glared at him.

  “Barron here,” he said, leaning down toward the tiny microphone. “What is it, Atara?” His tone was rough, abrupt, far more so than Travis deserved.

  “Is anything wrong, sir?” Travis couldn’t have missed the tension in his voice.

  “No, Commander. Nothing I can’t handle.” He returned Lafarge’s cold stare. “Status report?”

  “Yes, sir. Commander Fritz and her team are on their way. They should dock within ten minutes. The Eagles managed to knock out that Union frigate’s engines. The ship is disabled and continuing along on its last vector.” A brief pause. “If the fighting is mostly finished there, could you could spare some of Captain Rogan’s Marines? One platoon will probably be enough. I’d like to send an assault shuttle to match course and speed and board that ship. It’s not likely they’re going anywhere, but I still don’t want to give them time to do repairs.” Another short silence. “Better to capture them now, while we still can, sir. We can’t be sure what our situation will be in twelve hours…or a day, or a week.”

  Barron took a deep breath. He knew exactly what Travis meant. His first officer was as aware as he was that
they faced a fight here—and probably a hard one—before they would have a chance to move the ancient ship. If they managed to come up with a way to move it at all. But that was Fritzie’s problem. His was holding onto the thing for as long as it took for her to work something out, or for the Confederation reinforcements to arrive. And he suspected his job would be as difficult and trying as hers.

  “Very well, Commander. Contact Captain Rogan, tell him to dispatch two platoons and sufficient transport. I’d rather hit them with too much than too little. We can’t be sure they didn’t keep some FRs onboard. And that will leave four platoons here, which should be enough to hunt down a few fugitives.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  He stood silently for a moment. Then he added, “And keep Dauntless on yellow alert, with one squadron on patrol at all times. We’re close to the transwarp points here…and we don’t know what’s coming.” And you know something is coming as well as I do…

  “Yes, Captain. Agreed. I also have Yellow squadron ready to go…I’ll launch them before I land the Eagles.”

  “And keep me posted. If the scanners report anything at all, or the fighters detect anything…or if you have a feeling in your gut, even if you’re not sure it’s not last night’s dinner, call me immediately.” Barron knew he should go back to the ship. He had no more place staying now than he did coming aboard with the assault teams. But he was mesmerized by the ancient ship, and he was determined to have a look around. A prerogative of command perhaps, but one he was going to exercise.

  “Yes, sir. I’ve got things handled. Take your time over there.” He could hear from her voice that she understood…as she usually did.

  “Thank you, Atara.” He felt a rush of gratitude for having Travis as his exec, as he had so many times before. “Barron out.”

  He’d been locked in a staring contest with Lafarge the entire time he’d been on the comm. Now he said, “I will authorize a berth on the next shuttle heading back to Dauntless, Captain Lafarge.” His voice was colder, more professional than it had been before. “Your crew is there, and I am sure they will be very happy to see you.” He paused. “I understand your first officer is aboard the Union frigate. You will be glad to know we have knocked out its engines and are preparing to board. With any luck, he will be found and safely brought to Dauntless. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to…”