Defiance: Book 5 of the Legacy Fleet Series (The Legacy Fleet Trilogy)
Page 27
And just as fast as it had started, it was over.
“Admiral, Titan’s crust pretty much vaporized where it hit the ship. That entire hemisphere is molten, and spewing out mass like a giant moon-sized volcano. Atmosphere is gone. Earthquakes all over the entire surface,” Whitehorse looked up. “I don’t know if the moon itself is even stable anymore. It could just break up.”
Proctor scowled. “Surely its gravitational mass will hold it together.”
“Of course, Admiral. But not before it breaks apart from the acceleration stresses, and then recollapses back in on itself. The hull of that Swarm ship penetrated pretty deeply.”
Proctor watched the viewscreen as the yellow moon, still on its previous trajectory, soared away from the Earth. At its speed, it would be well beyond the orbit of the Earth’s actual moon within a few minutes.
“It’s still not slowing down, ma’am.”
He’d saved them. Again. And again, he’d be lost to them forever.
“Still no sign of slowing. Could be that the collision disabled whatever … propulsion … that thing has.”
Titan grew smaller as the minutes passed, the angry red glare on the side of the moon where it had crashed into the giant Swarm ship still glowing like a giant eye.
And then it disappeared.
“It’s gone, ma’am. No sign of Titan anywhere on passive or active sensors.” Whitehorse scowled at her console. “I suppose if it’s jumped a short distance away we’ll know soon….”
Proctor could finally breathe. “It’s all right. It jumped. That’s enough for me.” She turned to face Whitehorse, the marine who’d replaced the one that had removed Liu, and Qwerty. “It means he’s alive.” She glanced back up at the screen to stare at the empty space where Titan had been. Half its surface had been molten—who knew how deep the destruction had penetrated into the core? “But for how much longer?”
Epilogue
Earth
Lower Manhattan
United Earth Presidential Mansion
“Mr. Vice President?” the aide leaned into the room.
John Sepulveda closed his mouth. He’d been mid-kiss. Hadn’t even gotten to start the foreplay yet. His wife rolled her eyes and pushed her shirt back down, giving him the look that said, so this is how it’s going to be now?
“It’s President, now, son. And this better be really, really good.”
The young aide, the assistant to the late President Quimby, cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry, Mr. President, it’s been … a wild few hours. It’s just that, Mr. President, Admiral Oppenheimer wants to talk to you immediately.”
Sepulveda reached down to pull up his pants. “For God’s sake I was just sworn in ten minutes ago. Can’t it wait another twenty?” You don’t interrupt celebration sex, he added in his mind.
“He’s here now, sir. And he has someone with him he says you need to meet. Says it’s quite urgent and—”
“Ok, ok, ok, fine,” Sepulveda grumbled, fastening his belt buckle and straightening his shirt. His wife had already retreated to the bathroom of the presidential suite, a set of opulent rooms that were still full of the late president’s possessions. Hell, it still smelled like rum and body odor. For all his charm, Fred Quimby was not known for his personal hygiene.
He went through the door and into the president’s office—his office—where Oppenheimer was pacing back and forth. Another man was sitting in one of the plush chairs near the desk.
Sepulveda stopped dead in his tracks. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What the hell is that fanatic doing here?”
Oppenheimer stopped pacing, and smiled, extending his hand to Sepulveda. “Mr. President, congratulations on your recent swearing in.” They shook hands, and the admiral swept his free hand over to the man seated, who slowly rose. “Allow me to introduce you to Patriarch Huntsman.”
“The Grangerite,” said Sepulveda, with a sneer, as if it were an epithet.
“The one and only,” said Huntsman, with a smile.
Oppenheimer waved the patriarch over. “Mr. Huntsman, in addition to being a leader of the faithful on dozens of worlds, is also one of IDF’s most valuable intelligence assets. He’s infiltrated the GPC at the highest level. Has for years now. And he’s here now to help us solve our biggest problem.”
“The Swarm? They’ve returned?”
Oppenheimer nodded. “Yes. It appears they have. Maybe. But the problem I was referring to was that the murderer of President Quimby is still out there. And she has openly collaborated with the Dolmasi, who we are in a current state of war with. And she is on the run, having stolen one of our most advanced warships, equipped with stealth, and refuses to return to face a court martial.”
Sepulveda shrugged. “She also saved Earth. What’s your point?”
“She did not save Earth. She nearly destroyed it. Titan nearly collided with Earth, and she was there, cajoling and encouraging it on. And don’t forget the plain fact that she killed your predecessor.”
President Sepulveda sat down at his desk. “And what about Titan? The head of IDF Intel just briefed me, right before the swearing in, that there’s a chance that … Granger, is down there. Is that true?”
Oppenheimer shrugged, and thumbed towards Huntsman. “That’s part of why he’s here.”
Both turned to the patriarch, who looked dour. “Mr. President, how do I say this….”
“You say it quickly and waste as little of my time as possible.”
Huntsman’s eyes flashed with what Sepulveda thought might have been fear. But maybe it was annoyance. “All the major religions have a messiah figure. Mine included. But in all those religions, it is a commonly held belief that, before the messiah, comes the false messiah. The harbinger of doom. The servant of the destroyer.”
Sepulveda snorted. “And you Grangerites believe that Granger is your messiah?”
Huntsman’s eyes were unreadable. “More or less. He will save humanity in the end.”
“And so what you’re telling me is that … whatever is on Titan, it’s not Granger?”
Huntsman’s eyes went cold. “Most certainly not. It is the anti-messiah. The anti-christ, if you will. It has come as the harbinger of doom. It is from that danger that Granger will save us all. I’m sure of it.”
Sepulveda held his head in his hand. Religious fucking fanatics. “And … you have proof?”
Huntsman only laughed. “Mr. President, Titan just q-jumped in from nowhere, apparently summoned a deadly Swarm ship from the void, and then perhaps destroyed it. Who’s to say Titan can’t summon another ship? You saw it with your own eyes. Everyone on Earth saw it. It fired some mysterious red beam across Earth’s bow. The beam disappeared into nothingness. And from that nothingness came the destroyer. The facts are on my side, Mr. President. Believe what you want about who or what is inside Titan, the fact remains that it is a grave threat. I believe it to be the anti-messiah. The anti-Granger. But whatever it is, it must be stopped—that much I’m sure we can agree on.”
Sepulveda glanced at Oppenheimer, who nodded, indicating his grudging agreement.
“Ok, fine. Titan’s gotta go. If we can find it.” He started to turn around, ready for this meeting to be over. Oppenheimer shook his head.
“And not just Titan, Mr. President. Admiral Proctor was in contact with Titan just before it escaped. Just like she was in contact with the Dolmasi. She killed Quimby. It’s clear to me … that she needs to be taken out as well. I tried once, a few days ago on her own ship. She … eluded capture.”
Sepulveda’s mouth hung open slightly. Unbelievable. “You’re her superior! Why didn’t you just order her back and arrest her?”
Oppenheimer looked like he was suffering a fool, and Sepulveda hated him for it. He’ll pay. Eventually. “I had this conversation with your predecessor. President Quimby believed the … optics, would not look good if I relieved her. So I had to use more … subtle means at my disposal.”
Sepulveda snorted. “So, in
a way, you’re responsible for Quimby’s death, are you not? If you hadn’t failed, he’d be alive.”
“And you’d still be in the most useless office on Earth,” retorted Oppenheimer.
Sepulveda chuckled. “Touché.” He kicked his feet up on the desk, definitely starting to feel the gravity of the office, and the moment. He snorted. “So? What do you propose?”
“Simple. I propose we give Mr. Huntsman here the third stealth ship that we’ve got in dry dock. He lures her to a specific location, and when he has her in his sights, he terminates her. Since he’ll be stealthed, we get to chalk it up to a q-jump accident or a collision with a fragment of El Amin, or something.”
“El Amin? You’re planning on terminating her there?”
“Yes. The only place I know we can lure her to.” He produced a data pad from his pocket and tossed it on the desk. Sepulveda pulled his feet off and leaned forward to pick it up, thumb it on, and stare at the image displayed. A figure lay still in a hospital bed, tubes sticking into him, racks of monitors behind him.
“So, you’re going to get in the third stealth ship, lure her to this asteroid field, and … pow? Are you sure this third ship is up to the task? We already saw first-hand what happened to Mullins and Quimby.”
Oppenheimer nodded. “I am. I personally piloted it just last week. Out to Vilasha-dol in Dolmasi space to attempt to speak to them to avert this war.” He smiled. Sepulveda wasn’t entirely sure that the admiral wasn’t speaking ironically. “I was not successful, apparently. But regardless, Mr. Huntsman here can lure her in to El Amin, and deal with her there. Once and for all.”
“I don’t understand. Why would she care?”
“Read the caption. The identity of the man in the hospital bed.”
Sepulveda read the text underneath the image of a man with breathing tubes stuck down his throat, with needles taped to his arms. A breathing apparatus stood off to the side. Sepulveda couldn’t even recognize any features under the charred skin on the patient’s face. “Daniel P.,” he read, and looked up. “Who the hell is that?”
Oppenheimer smiled. “The key to Admiral Proctor. The perfect lure.”
Sepulveda stared at the charred young man in the hospital bed. So young. And finally it clicked. All the news reports, the snippets of intelligence he’d gleaned from the redacted presidential briefs. “This is the instigator of the Sangre de Cristo incident.”
Huntsman and Oppenheimer both nodded. “It is.”
“He survived the fall through Sangre’s atmosphere.”
“He did. Barely. He was one of our best intelligence assets within the GPC. He played his part well, and he’ll eventually be rewarded. But first, I need your authorization. For the mission.”
Sepulveda continued staring at the prone, broken body lying in the bed, barely clinging to life. He thought of Quimby, who never even got the chance to cling to life. He thought of that moon firing into the void, and that Swarm ship, half as big as North America itself. And that woman, that damn, reckless woman, who was at the root of it all.
The Motherkiller. The Companion of the Hero of Earth. Now the Bane of Earth.
“Do it.”
Sepulveda looked up at Oppenheimer, who looked relieved.
“Do it now.”
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Table of Contents
Contents
Title
Dedication
Front Matter
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Epilogue
Backmatter