Deliverers (The Chaos Shift Cycle Book 4)

by TR Cameron

  She shook her head. "Thank you, Admiral, but that isn’t why I needed to talk to you." She took a deep breath and blurted out "I know the location of the Xroeshyn home world and have all the navigational data that the Domeki possessed."

  Okoye's eyes widened. "That definitely changes things, Kate."

  She nodded. "Nonetheless, Admiral, I remind you that you may not take my ship. The Pandora belongs to me, and any attempt to change that will result in the loss of access to that information."

  Okoye laughed. "I don't think anyone has the..." He paused, then said, "I don't think anyone is brave enough to try that again. Especially now that we understand the critical relationship between that ship and her commander." He caught the eye of another admiral across the room and said, "I need to share this information immediately. Please excuse me." He disengaged and walked off, leaving Kate looking satisfied.

  Cross turned to face her and said, "So, Commander, your place or mine?"

  "Well, Captain, seeing as your ship is a battered hunk of junk, and my ride is a beautiful—" she was interrupted by the arrival of Admiral Margaret Flynn, who linked her arm through Kate's.

  "Sorry, Captain Cross, my daughter and I have some catching up to do." Cross stood, open mouthed, as her mother led a reluctant Kate away.

  "Close your mouth, Captain. You’re dishonoring our rank." Cross turned to shake hands with Dima Petryaev, who was walking with the assistance of a cane and sported a large mechanical exoskeleton on his leg. "Are you all right, Dima?"

  The older man scoffed, "It’s nothing. A scratch. A flesh wound. It will soon be healed."

  "And your ship?"

  Dima shook his head with an air of regret. "The Beijing has been severely damaged. He is being towed to our nearest repair facility to determine whether he can be repaired or whether his long career is complete."

  "And you? Is your time on the front line over?"

  Dima responded with a negligent wave of his hand. "Of course, the admiralty requested my expertise as one of them. However, I declined. There are too many of my people, the officers I trained and raised from pups, still out there fighting. I cannot abandon them."

  "Of course you can't."

  Dima nodded authoritatively. "It’s part of what makes a captain a captain, is it not?" He put his arm around Cross's shoulders. "So, Captain, may I buy you a celebratory drink, as you seem to be out of better options?"

  Cross laughed, and the two captains headed for the starbase's officers' club.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  As the Ruby Rain rode the gravity wave back to the home system, Indraat Vray seethed. She didn’t speak to her crew, save for the most vital commands. She spent most of the time in her quarters, going over and over the battle in her mind, seeking moments where she might have made mistakes that cost them the victory. She found none. In the end, she was forced to conclude that either the overall strategy was flawed, or the gods had simply not been with them on this day.

  For whatever reason. Possibly because the scriptures they’d been given by those gods had been violated.

  Finally, it was time to finish the painfully long trip and face her reckoning. She returned to the bridge for reversion and saw the welcoming image of Xroesha before her. The calm that always accompanied the sight of home was destroyed by her tactical officer yelling, "We’re under attack," followed by repeated impacts. Before they could respond, the aft shield failed. Indraat accessed a view of the rear of the ship in time to see four Domeki torpedoes firing lasers at the Ruby Rain before plowing into her drives and detonating.

  "Damage report," Indraat snapped.

  Her tactical officer stammered in reply. "Our main drives are down, all we have are maneuvering thrusters."

  "And worse news," added her first from the helm station, "we’re already in the gravity well."

  Indraat strapped herself into her chair and calmly announced to the ship that a collision was imminent. Her first struggled with the controls as they plummeted through the atmosphere, somewhat slowed by the thrusters but still entering at a rate that threatened their safety.

  "Aim for the forest outside Xeros," she commanded in a soft voice. She received a grunt in reply from her distracted helm officer. "Jettison torpedoes," she said, and watched on the external camera as they floated free of her ship. Then there was nothing left for her to do except watch her crew work, and wait.

  Eternal minutes later, the Ruby Rain met the forest, its ventral thrusters firing at full power, and skimmed the top branches before dropping lower and smashing through them. The ship spun to a stop in a clearing, its hull smoking from the violent reentry. The closest trees were already ablaze.

  "Fire control," she said as she walked from the bridge. She heard the pumps engage as they sprayed suppressant on the hull of the ship. When she reached her quarters, she quietly sat on the bed, waited until the soundproofed door had sealed, then screamed at the top of her lungs for the next minute.

  Several eights later, Indraat and Deacon Raanja walked through the swatch of forest that her ship had devastated. The green space bordered the city of Xeros on the side closest to the cathedral and the palace. The moment they left the cover of the trees, they found their way blocked by a contingent of palace guards and a vehicle with a large weapon on the top. Eight advanced to address Indraat and her religious officer, and her hand twitched toward the sidearm on her hip. The gentle touch of her companion reminded her that now wasn’t the time to fight, that most likely these men would take her where she was already headed. She straightened, exhaled, and waited for them to speak.

  "Fleet-Captain Indraat Vray?"

  She nodded.

  "You’re required to come with us to the palace. The emperor awaits your report." With a gesture, he invited her to enter the vehicle. She calculated the odds of eliminating all of them and decided it wasn’t likely to end in her favor. Instead, she acquiesced and boarded, taking the seat normally reserved for the unit commander in a childish move that on any other day would be beneath her. The troop carrier lurched into motion and rolled toward the palace.

  When they arrived, they were escorted up the grandiose staircase into the entrance hall. She noted that the sapphire blue carpet, used by the previous emperor as a threat to her uncle, was still in place. The escort of eight guards split in half, four preceding and the same number trailing. She slowed without making a conscious decision to do so as they entered the passage before the throne room, having heard tales from her uncle of the weapons concealed within. She straightened her spine and pressed onward, doubting that he would’ve brought her all this way only to kill her in the antechamber.

  When they crossed the threshold into the throne room, they found it empty except for three figures on the dais. Her uncle sat in the center. On his left stood the cloaked form of his protector, her hands hidden within the folds of her cloak and her face wrapped in shadow. To his right, looking pale and damaged, was his seneschal. That man spoke, and it seemed as if it was an effort for him, "Emperor Kraada Tak welcomes Fleet-Captain Indraat Vray. Please advance to the bottom of the stairs."

  As she moved to step forward, a pair of guards stopped her and pointed to her gun belt. With a sigh, she unbuckled it and handed it to them before pulling the hideaway stiletto from her boot and surrendered that too. Then she proceeded along the sapphire stone until she reached the base of the platform. She adopted a parade rest posture with her arms locked behind her back and looked up at the emperor.

  Kraada appeared far less healthy than the last time she’d seen him. His eyes seemed to burn from within, and she imagined that whatever caused that blaze was consuming his body as fuel. His hands trembled as he gestured, from frenzy, not from weakness. He levered himself up from the chair and stood.

  Unable to be still, he paced the top platform as he spoke, "Fleet-Captain, you were given one task, and one task only. The gods willed that you should destroy the human home world. And yet, here you stand before us, alive and well." He gestured in
her direction, then threw his arms toward the ceiling. "And their home world still stands," he shouted, anger suffusing each word. "You’ve failed the gods’ trust. You’ve failed my trust. I cannot imagine how such a simple task could've gone so horribly awry under your command, Fleet-Captain. It isn’t as if these humans are our equals. They’re the ones named in the Dhadas, the ones we will defeat, as promised by the gods. And yet, again, they still live."

  Indraat maintained a stoic expression, her face betraying none of the disappointment welling within her. Disappointment not in herself, but in this version of the hierarch she’d believed in.

  Kraada paced, silent, for several moments. Then, as if coming up from a well, his raspy voice asked, "I wonder… I wonder if your death would appease the gods. If the sacrifice of the commander of the failed assault would finally permit the defeat of the trespassers. What say you, Fleet-Captain? Do you believe this would bring us victory where you’ve failed to do so?"

  Indraat didn’t reply, but in keeping with tradition, knelt and bowed her head. The symbolic offering of her life to his executioner's axe seemed to mollify the emperor, and he blew out an angry breath before speaking again. "Rise, Fleet-Captain. There’s still work to do, and your tasks are not yet complete."

  A short time later, after the emperor had departed from the throne room, the seneschal escorted her into the former emperor's luxurious office space. Now, it was bare, save for a pair of meditation rugs in the center of a circle comprised of representations of the gods. She knelt on the less opulent mat and bowed her head, allowing herself to slip into meditation and prayer. An unknown time later, she was roused by the touch of her uncle's hand on her shoulder as he passed to kneel on his own carpet.

  "I apologize, Niece, for the necessity of that performance. It's the mob. They're always watching, and I must keep up appearances."

  She nodded, and noticed how his eyes kept flicking past her face. She could sense that behind her, some distance away, stood another being. The silence of that presence suggested it was her uncle's protector, as did his constant glances for reassurance.

  "You don’t know what it is like now on the home world, Niece. The members of the mob have lost their minds. They watch, and they wait. And they seek to bring down the emperor, to bring down the church. So, I must not give them reason. Must not provide an excuse for yet another attack. You understand, I'm sure."

  Indraat nodded, but understanding failed her. The imagined threats that her uncle described seemed unlikely, or at least exaggerated, to her. As her mind catalogued the implications of that, she realized he was speaking again.

  "We must rebuild, of course. We must bring even more ships into our next attack. What do you believe the humans will do?"

  She told him what she thought, couched in terms that wouldn’t inspire an immediate emotional response. "Uncle, Emperor, I believe the humans will strengthen their defenses in anticipation of our next offensive. Possibly, they will re-establish colonies where possible. As such, we should have an appropriate amount of time to rebuild our own forces before taking the battle to them again and crushing them once and for all."

  "Yes, yes," Kraada said dismissively. Suddenly, his gaze met hers and he asked, "How is the Ruby Rain?"

  Unsettled by the sudden change of topic, she replied, "Damaged. Somehow torpedoes fired by the Domeki vessels followed us into a gravity wave and were carried here, where they destroyed my engines on our descent. Our arrival was more crash than landing."

  "That will never do," he said. "The Ruby Rain is more than a ship now. It is a symbol. A symbol of the emperor's power. Of the church's power. Of your authority as fleet-captain." He jumped up and paced again. "We’ll repair it. More, we’ll improve it. We’ll make it as powerful as a ship of its size can be. We’ll send it against the humans, and you’ll have the honor and the responsibility of destroying the trespassers yourself." He walked to the door, and she heard the protector open it for him. Before he left, he said, "Remember your vow, Indraat. You’ve done well to stand by it. See that you continue to do so."

  She was reunited with her religious officer and escorted from the palace. As she headed for the repair hangar where her ship had been moved, Raanja asked, "Did he mention the numbers, Fleet-Captain?"

  Indraat shook her head in a mixture of sadness and disbelief. "Not once, Deacon. He laid the blame entirely on our strategy and our tactics, and more specifically upon my choices and my failures."

  "May I speak freely, Fleet-Captain?"

  "When we’re in private, always, Deacon Raanja."

  "I am concerned."

  "As am I, my friend. As am I."

  Chapter Forty

  Kraada Tak was once again in his bathing chamber, letting the scalding pool burn away the air of failure that lingered after his meeting with Indraat. He shifted positions, making waves, and reflected upon how simple actions took on a life of their own. His own path to the throne started with the choice to embrace the trespassers as their holy foe. Whether that was a secular action or a religious one was still unclear; however, communications with the gods since then had confirmed the rightness of his decision.

  Varian cleared her throat, and Kraada opened his eyes. "What?"

  "The report has arrived from our person at the front, Hierarch."

  He closed his eyes again. "Tell me."

  "She says there’s nothing more anyone could’ve done. The Domeki vessels turned the tide, and no possible strategy could’ve brought victory once the Emerald Sky was removed from the board."

  Kraada grunted. He’d imagined that Indraat had shared the truth, but confirmation was always useful. "The gods didn’t see fit to give us success in this battle. There must be more to learn, or more to do. No matter. There’s still time before the close of the eight to fulfill the promise of the Dhadas."

  "Perhaps we should be less... direct, Hierarch."

  "What do you mean, Variin?"

  "You chose to wage a conventional war against an unconventional foe. You largely treated noncombatants as off-limits. However, that’s only one possible path. Another would be to pressure the military by exploiting the citizenry."

  "You’re talking about the colonies."

  "Yes, Hierarch."

  "We destroyed some."

  "Certainly, but as a side-piece to your primary strategy. What if, instead, eliminating their colonies became the main objective? They’d be forced to respond to each attack, or risk the consequences of abandoning their people. It would be a most untenable situation."

  Kraada remained quiet for a time, turning over the idea in his mind. "We could use their colonies as distractions, or as traps, equally well."

  "Yes, Hierarch."

  "It would require the commitment of our ground forces."

  "Is that not the purpose of their existence?"

  Kraada again let his imagination wander along the web of possibilities that stretched out from this moment of decision. "How does this serve our ultimate goal?"

  The assassin laughed within her cowl, a dark and rasping sound. "As humans die on the ground, they will dispatch their ships, so we can kill them in space. Unless they abandon their colonies, which they’ve shown no willingness to do, their defenses will be stretched thin attempting to protect them. When they’re weakened enough, when our fleet is fully repaired, we’ll be in the perfect position for a culminating strike."

  Kraada smiled. "I can see it, and it’s beautiful. Prepare the strategy, Variin."

  "Yes, Hierarch."

  He was rewarded with another of her rare smiles, generated no doubt by the thought of the many deaths to come.

  It was time for his weekly address. The mob was carefully scanned for hours beforehand, and potential troublemakers separated from the rest and escorted to the dungeons below. Guards and palace staff were hidden in the crowd against the need for an intervention, or the need to identify ringleaders and rabble rousers.

  The rabble had been particularly fractious during his time as empe
ror. It was the perfect moment to give them a new worry to focus upon, and today he had an excellent one for them. It also happened to be the beginning of the offensive strategy his protector and assassin had developed. After he added his own refinements, it was as good as any he’d created on his own. He whispered a small prayer of thanks to the gods for the presence of Variin in his life.

  Kraada swept onto the balcony to the subdued cheers of his people. He thought, with a smile, that soon they’d cheer in earnest as reports of victories made their way back to the home world.

  "My children, hear my words on this momentous day. You’re all aware that our attack on the human home world was not blessed with victory; today, we know why. The gods demand more punishment for the humans before their end, and have inspired that demonic race to push us to where we need to be. Well, today, we take our first steps on that path."

  He’d arranged for video screens to bring his missives to the people below, and he gestured for the cameras and began to pace. "We’ve intercepted the humans' communications. After a short time, they will be coming. Not coming to reclaim their own colonies. Not coming to defend their own territory. Coming here, to our home world, to the shining beacon that is Xroesha."

  The gasp from the crowd was loud enough to reach him, and he gave a grim smile. "Yes, the gods have seen fit to balance our discovery of their home by providing them with the knowledge of ours. No doubt through the damned Domeki vessels that they captured." He shook his head. "The gods require the Xroeshyn people to transcend our limitations, and have provided the catalyst to ensure that we do."

  Kraada turned and looked directly into the camera. "And so, we will. We’ll distract them with misinformation and feints. We’ll delay them by taking the battle to their colonies and exterminating the vermin that live there. Our ground forces shall join the fight in earnest, and in doing so, further fulfill the desires of the gods."