“What damage?” Scott yelled into his com implant.
Blyds’ voice bellowed in his ear. “Outer hull breached. The heat stress opened a seam in one of the carbon plates. Inner hull is holding. A few support systems are offline, but the emergency backups have compensated.”
“Damn lucky to have survived.” He wiped beads of sweat from his brow and swiveled his pod to the displayed face of the exec. “They were nearly on us when they fired. Prepare Prometheus.”
Blyds’ image came into focus on the battle deck display, his shrill voice betraying his near panic. “Captain, helm reports our thrust nozzles not responding. The nozzles are jammed. We can’t maneuver.”
“Fire Prometheus as our gyration brings Crius to bear.”
“No go, Captain. We can’t traverse Prometheus much above the bow, and the gyration axes don’t permit us a decent a shot. Crius is inside the blind cone. Unless we can change either the yaw or roll, we can’t target the enemy.”
With already clammy hands, Scott wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. Crius’ captain was too savvy to miss this good an opportunity to strike at Aurora.
“Except for the gyration, we’re still battle ready,” said Blyds.
“Crius on an attack run. Eurybia is holding back,” the battle management officer announced over the main intercom channel.
“Blyds, use the bow thrusters to reverse the yaw.”
“We’ve tried that. The yaw is slowing, but not enough to bring Crius into our field of fire.”
Scott’s mind cycled through solutions, rejecting one after another. He shouted to Blyds, “Launch our fusion missiles fore and aft in the direction opposite our yaw.”
“Captain, we’re too close to Crius. Even if we do hit her with missiles, we’ll be caught in the radiation fireball. Please reconsider.”
“Disarm the missiles and launch. That’s an order,” Scott bellowed through strained vocal cords.
Blyds stared in disbelief. “Please confirm. You want us to disarm the missiles before launching?”
“You heard right, Blyds. My order stands. Disarm the missiles and launch. Now!”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
The metallic voice from the combat center rang out. “Crius has activated fire control.”
Over and over, the whine of the rail launcher permeated the ship as missiles, one after the other, sped into space and curved toward Crius. With each launch, Aurora’s yaw slowed and then began a barely perceptible reversal.
Crius pressed in for the kill.
“Yaw has reversed,” Blyds said with relief and a broad grin. “Five seconds till Crius is in our field of fire. What caused the reversal?”
“The recoil from the launched missiles countered the yaw. That and whatever torque we got from the bow thrusters.” Scott stared at the yaw indicator and gripped the pod-restraining bar until his hands went white.
A murmured cheer arose in the audio from the combat deck when particle beams from Crius flared out at the inert missiles, destroying them, one after the other. As Crius focused her weapons and attention on the impotent threat streaking toward her, Aurora bought a little more time.
Overhead lights dimmed as the engines charged Prometheus with antimatter, and Crius slowly came into view in the battle display. Scott leaned forward in the captain’s pod and waited for Blyds to give the order.
Finally, Blyds roared out, “Drop shields! Fire Prometheus!”
Aurora, still spinning around her roll axis, jumped as her engines, relieved of the strain of supporting the shields, wound down to idle.
Crius took the antimatter beam bow on. A whitish fireball formed on her prow and worked its way back along her length.
Seconds later, a shower of debris shot past Aurora.
“No one could survive that,” gasped an ashen-faced Ariela. “Prometheus, the weapon Camus wanted so badly, has finished him.”
On the display from the CIC, Blyds stared, fixated on the bizarre sight.
As dull thuds echoed through the ship, Scott sat up and stared at the display, startled by the still glowing debris streaking by. “Order the rest of the expeditionary fleet to engage Eurybia.”
Blyds gave the order.
In moments, Targelion and Vesper closed in on Eurybia, but the last of Camus’ ships disappeared in a burst of broad-spectrum radiation.
Blyds’ head jerked back. “My God, they jumped to warp-space in close solar orbit. All that remains is a plasma cloud and radiated energy. Could they have made it?”
“Risky,” Scott said, his jaw slack with incredulity. “I’ve never seen it attempted before, but in theory it’s possible.”
He triggered the release, and his battle pod restraints opened.
Ariela did the same. With soft tears forming in her eyes, she joined him as he gave his last orders to Aurora’s Executive Officer.
“Blyds, enter Earth obit and ready the shuttle.”
Maintenance crews labored to re-establish control of Aurora’s thrust nozzles. The nav crews brought the engines online and Aurora gingerly fell into orbit over a blue orb graced with swirls of white clouds.
Scott slipped his arm around Ariela. She tipped her head back, and he drank in her soft, hazel eyes. “We’re home. A few decades from now, Camus’ New Imperium will be resigned to a footnote in the history books.”
Earth
~~~
“I gather Camus made your ten months of confinement rather unpleasant,” Scott said to Jestin Delmar, as they made their way to the courtyard of the PanGaia military hospital. Sadness welled within him as, step by step, the emaciated former Commander-in-Chief of Exploration Command made his way down the walkway.
He helped Delmar along the corridor of the hospital wing, which Camus had sealed off and converted to a prison for high-ranking political prisoners. With the collapse of the New Imperium, the hospital had remodeled the wing into a rehabilitation facility for the same, former prisoners.
Delmar, dressed in a casual hospital gown and robe, breathed in the cool air of the courtyard and gazed wistfully at a Vee-shaped flock of birds winging across the sky overhead, his first glimpse of sky since Camus had dissolved the Senate and taken him prisoner.
“Takes a lot more than twelve months in prison to beat down this old buzzard.” Delmar motioned toward a wooden bench next to a stand of bamboo, and cast a smile at Scott. “Mind games to keep the boredom from turning the brain to mush,” he mumbled, and pointed to his head. “War games. I played them over and over in my mind. I fought against the best alien invaders my imagination could conjure up.”
Scott lowered his gaze to the path in front of them. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Admiral. Camus wreaked a great deal of destruction and sorrow on the solar system.”
“He was living testament to the corruption of power.” Delmar gripped Scott’s arm. “He wasn’t always like that, you know. In the early days, he devoted himself to the protection of the Panhelion. Unfortunately, over time, he came to look upon himself as the single person with the ability to thwart an alien threat. His downfall came when he decided that only with absolute authority could he ensure the continuation of humanity. It’s not the first time in history. Other powerful men have made the same mistake.”
The admiral paused and took a deep breath. “And Scott, please favor me by calling me Jestin.”
Scott helped him sit down on the bench. “Not addressing you by your title is a hard habit to break, but.... Okay, Jestin. Are you ready to go back to work?”
“I’ve another few weeks of therapy. After that, if there is anything left of my Command, then sure. I’d be happy to go back to work.”
“I think the Senate has something better than that in mind for you, Jestin. Rumor has it they want to put you in charge of a combined Defense and Exploration Command. Your name pops up whenever the subject surfaces.”
“Walk with me a bit?” Delmar rose from the bench, and the two strolled though the courtyard. “There’s something I must tell
you.”
Scott arched his brows. “Yes, what is it?”
Delmar hobbled on for a few steps before answering. “I’m not the one for the job.”
“Why not?” Scott cast a puzzled expression toward Delmar. “You’ve led Exploration Command for over two decades. I’m told you’ll be fit for duty after your rehabilitation. A combined command would be perfect for you.”
Delmar wheezed for a moment. “My health has nothing to do with my decision. I don’t want the Senate to think me ungrateful, but in my years with Exploration Command, I’ve had little actual battle experience. My skills are analytical, sifting reports from the far reaches of the Galaxy for clues of alien threats. I’ve too little experience in planning strategy and tactics for armed conflict.”
Delmar stopped and swung around to face Scott. “No, the top position in the Panhelion military requires someone with battle experience. I’m content to remain the head of Exploration Command, but to take on both Commands, no. The job’s not for me.”
Scott opened his mouth, prepared to rebut the argument, but Delmar shook him off.
“I’ve already told the Senate they should offer you the position of Commander-in-Chief of the combined Panhelion forces. You wanted to reform the military, to root out the corrupt and incompetent, and I’ve come to the conclusion that if anyone can do it, you can. Now you have your chance.”
Scott stared into the distance for a long minute. “Jestin, you make a compelling argument. It’s true, I wanted to see the military made into a force that would be worthy of our fighting men and women. I still do, but the time for that is past. My goals have changed. I see my life taking a different path.”
“And what path is that?” Delmar asked with a frown.
“Our cousins on Niobe need to be protected. Both Proconsul Wimund and Chancellor Linghtaz are in advanced age and ill health, and the location of the opening to the interior of the gradient is no longer a secret. Deprived of their shield, Niobians are defenseless. Eventually, with help, they may learn how to defend themselves. Until then, they need me to help them.”
“The Panhelion can protect them.” Delmar pressed the matter with the little strength he could manage. “They can continue their tranquil life under our military aegis.”
Scott didn’t answer for several minutes. “I have other reasons, personal reasons.”
“Ah yes, the young lady who came with you from Niobe.” Delmar grinned.
On the far side of the courtyard, a hospital orderly chatted with two men and a woman, and pointed toward Scott and Delmar. A moment later, the three exchanged glances and approached.
Delmar smiled in recognition. “You have company. Looks like representatives from the Senate want to talk to you.”
When the senators drew near, Delmar nodded politely and excused himself.
“Captain Drumond?” the shorter of the two men said.
Scott made a half turn and faced the group. “Yes.”
“I’m Senator Braslov. This is Senator Spahl and Senator Valerian. We’d like to discuss an important matter with you. The hospital has offered us the use of the Director’s office. Won’t you join us?”
Scott nodded. “Certainly. Lead the way.”
The entourage escorted him to a spacious office overlooking the courtyard. A large desk faced the door, and to the right of the door, chairs surrounded an obsidian-topped table.
Senator Valerian offered Scott the chair at one end of the table. “Mister Drumond—I understand Mister is the title you prefer. If you wish to be addressed in some other way, let me know.” Valerian paused for just a beat. “The Senate asked us to offer you continued service in the restored Panhelion—”
“If by opportunity,” Scott said, placing his clasped hands on the table. “You mean as Commander-in-Chief of the Panhelion space forces, I’ve already decided to support Admiral Delmar for the position. I told him as much twenty minutes ago.”
Senator Valerian stifled a laugh. “Mister Drumond, that’s not why we’re here.”
Senator Spahl leaned forward, his forearms on the table. “We’ve reconstituted the Senate, naturally without the puppets installed by Camus. The new Senate is filled with citizen politicians who have pledged to support the reformed Panhelion.”
Braslov spoke next. “But to the business at hand. We are here at the request of the Senate, but not to ask you to serve in any capacity in the Panhelion armed forces.”
“Mister Drumond.” Senator Valerian moved to the edge of her seat and stared intently at Scott. “We’re here to offer you the Presidency of the reformed Panhelion.”
He stiffened in shock. “What about President Fitzsimons? He’s the legitimate President.”
With a slight grimace, Valerian glanced at her two colleagues and they nodded in return. “President Fitzsimons didn’t come out of this as well as Admiral Delmar. Camus kept him heavily drugged during his entire captivity. The doctors tell us he won’t recover for some time, if ever.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. He’s a good man. But there are others more qualified to be president. You should approach one of them.”
Valerian lowered her head for a moment. “We didn’t come to this decision lightly. The members of the Senate have met with their constituents, and you are the overwhelming choice for president.”
Spahl moved his chair closer to Scott. “We’re aware of your concern for our cousins on Niobe, but as president you can serve their security as well as the security of the Panhelion.” He paused and stared straight into Scott’s eyes. “The Senate and the citizens of the Panhelion are asking you for your service once more. We know how much you’ve already done for us, but your qualifications are unique. With the power of the presidency, you can change the military and protect both the Panhelion and Niobe.”
Scott pushed himself away from the table and stood. “Tell the Senate I’ll think it over and let them know tomorrow.”
Earth
-
Teton Nature Preserve
~~~
“How do you like it?” Scott shouted over the thunder of the hooves.
“Exhilarating.” Ariela leaned forward in her saddle and burst out in laughter, her hair tossing in rhythm with the graceful motion of her mount.
They reigned in, and the horses walked to a stop. In the glade before the two riders, the windblown spring grass rose and fell in waves. Hazy peaks of the distant mountains reflected violet on the surface of Jackson Lake.
“I never imagined they galloped so fast.” She grinned and patted the shoulder of her sorrel mare. “They’re magnificent. I think it a terrible shame that Niobe has no animals.” Ariela gripped the pommel and twisted in her saddle to face Scott. “I love so many things about Earth, but riding these animals is my favorite.”
“For someone who’s never ridden before, you handle a horse magnificently.”
She laughed again. “Blyds Gatura gave me a few lessons. He’s very good with horses.”
“He never mentioned it to me, but I’m glad he taught you.” Scott breathed in the scent of leather and horse. “All the more reason for you to stay.”
He slacked the rein, prompting the dapple gray to put its head down and bite into tender shoots of green grass. He then stood in the stirrups and swung his arm wide. “There’s so much more for you to see, and I want to be the one to show it all to you, to make you happy.”
Ariela swept her view across the broad horizon. “When you told me how many people live on Earth, I didn’t expect this much wilderness.”
“We’ve managed to save an occasional space here and there.” Scott dismounted and picked a handful of grass. The scent of sweet green stalks mixed with the moist odor of black loam. “If we find other habitable planets among the stars, many more of our people can emigrate. With far fewer people to support, we may coax our Earth to evolve more open spaces like this, and like many of the other beautiful places lost to us.”
“That would take time. On Niobe we already have great contin
ents of forests and meadows, of water and shore.” Ariela’s face broke out in a wry smile. “You found it pleasant, even without animals.”
“I know,” Scott replied. “How fortunate your people are to have beautiful surroundings and a peaceful existence, and except for the opening, they are protected from the rest of the universe. Sadly, many now know of the opening, and the gradient can’t protect you.”
“We had Prometheus, but it wasn’t enough.” She dropped her shoulders and held out her hand by way of offering an explanation. “A weapon of destruction. I’d rather we’d never had it. We prefered the protection of the gradient over the thorn of Prometheus.”
Scott glanced up at the eastern twilight as a large gibbous moon rose on the horizon. “Yes, a shroud for your Eden, and Prometheus, the angry thorn, but it did serve humanity well. With it, we were able to fend off the Khepri and restore the Republic of the Panhelion. Despite your abhorrence of its destructive power, it did serve a noble purpose.”
Ariela swept her eyes once more over the land and nodded her approval.
The evening insects chirped in riotous chorus. In the gathering darkness, Scott and Ariela led their mounts to a small cottage across the meadow. The dimmer stars faded as the brightness of the moon washed over them.
“There, the Hyades.” Scott pointed to the stars that formed the horns of Taurus. “In the space between those stars,” he said, absorbed in thought, “the time gradient protects Niobe. Your people will never again have to worry about a threat from beyond the gradient. The Senate has agreed to send a ship armed with Prometheus to protect the opening. It’s Earth’s gift to your people for giving us the means to restore the Panhelion.”
The horses stabled, they linked arms and sauntered to the cabin. Inside, the evening chill had taken hold, and Scott lit a fire in the gaping stone fireplace. On a couch, they huddled in a warm embrace before the flames.
At least eighty-years-old by Scott’s guess, the one-room cabin consisted of log walls and one wall half built of logs on shoulder-high natural rock. Reproductions of ancient paintings hung on the walls, with scenes from a long-gone era when herds of bison and other grazing animals roamed the preserve.
Shroud of Eden (Panhelion Chronicles Book 1) Page 34
