Crimson Worlds Refugees: The First Trilogy

by Jay Allan

  “Very well, Major. If you must remain. At least the others will get out.”

  Frasier nodded, a fairly meaningless gesture in battle armor. “I will begin the evacuation now, Doctor. We’ll need to do two trips to get everyone off…and the last one will be cutting it close, I think.”

  Cutter just nodded back. Yes, he thought. It will be close. Too close.

  * * *

  Midway shook hard. She had been in the thick of the fight, exchanging laser fire with the enemy battleline before passing through and decelerating to turn and make a second run. Compton’s flagship had come through the enemy missile barrage almost untouched, a stunning development he owed to a little bit of luck…and a lot to the effort of Greta Hurley’s squadrons.

  That woman was born to lead fighter groups, Compton thought as he stared out across the bridge.

  Midway’s strikeforce had swept through the clusters of missiles as they returned from their first attack. The Yorktown class battleship had originally carried 48 fighter-bombers, including Admiral Greta Hurley’s craft. The flagship’s veteran squadrons had acquitted themselves well in the campaign, with a survival rate far above the fleet average. Even so, Hurley had been leading back only sixteen of Midway’s fighters.

  The birds were out of expendable ordnance, but they’d opened up on the missiles with their lasers, and they gutted the volley heading toward Midway. Hurley had pioneered the use of fighters for missile defense, a promising tactic she’d been largely forced to abandon since the fleet had been trapped in enemy space. Her fighter crews had paid a terrible price in the battles since then, and she needed every ship she had left to attack the enemy warships. There just weren’t enough to assign to defensive duties, however promising the tactic had proven itself.

  Compton looked out across the flag bridge. There was wreckage strewn across the deck, minor structural elements mostly, broken loose when Midway had taken a direct hit from the main battery of one of the Leviathans. A large conduit, 20 centimeters in diameter, snaked its way across the middle of the bridge, passing just behind Compton’s chair. It was a bypass line, replacing a damaged group of cables and carrying power to a whole series of ship’s systems. The damage control crew that had installed it was gone. They had finished a few minutes earlier and moved on to the next repair on their agenda.

  “Cutting thrust now, Admiral,” Cortez said, as loudly as he could under 4g of deceleration.

  “Very well, Commander. I want the engines engaged again as quickly as possible. It’s time to finish this.” His voice was scratchy, and his tone exuded determination. Cutter’s miraculous success in gaining control over the Colossus had bought his people a chance for survival…and he’d be damned if he’d delay, even for an instant.

  Midway and the rest of the battleline could have gotten back into the fight faster if Compton had ordered everyone into the tanks and blasted away at 30g thrust. But his ship was too battered for that. Her damage control crews were hard at work readying her for another round of combat. It was difficult for them to do their jobs at 4g, but at 30g they’d all be in the tanks doing nothing at all. And the rest of his battleships were even worse off. Saratoga had been hit hard by the missile volleys and again in the energy weapons duel. Admiral Dumont’s ship was keeping his ship in the fight, but Compton knew even a Yorktown class battlewagon had its limits. And Saratoga had to be near hers.

  Compton’s eyes were fixed on the display, watching the incredible spectacle of a First Imperium fleet locked in mortal combat with one of their own super-battleships. The Colossus had come almost to a dead stop, its 60g+ thrust capacity giving it far more maneuverability than one of Compton’s vessels. When he’d first noticed the enemy ship decelerating at 60g, he feared that Cutter and his people had all been killed, crushed to death by the almost unimaginable force slamming into them at that rate of acceleration. But then, a group of shuttles emerged from the vessel, moving toward the main body of the human fleet.

  A few moments later, he had his answers. The First Imperium ships had some sort of internal force dampening system. Cutter and his people had been inside the behemoth when it fired its massive engines, but they hadn’t felt a thing.

  Just another way they are so far ahead of us…and it’s something they haven’t even needed for 500,000 years.

  “Reengaging thrust, Admiral. Four gees as ordered.” Compton’s vessel had shot past the First Imperium forces, decelerating at 4g until it came to a complete stop. Then, its positioning thrusters spun it around before the engines opened up again and Midway began building velocity back the way she’d come. In a little over twenty minutes, the battleline would reenter energy weapons range…and the fight would continue.

  Compton just nodded. He’d given his orders, and he knew his people would carry them out to the letter. He winced an instant later when the 4g of force slammed into him again. He’d enjoyed the few moments of freefall.

  “Admiral, I have Dr. Barcomme on the com.” She was on one of the shuttles fleeing from the Colossus, having joined Cutter’s expedition to search for signs of the ancient beings of the First Imperium.

  “Soph…Dr. Barcomme, how can I help you?” Compton’s iron tone softened a bit as he addressed Barcomme. He had spent a fair amount of time with the Europan biologist in recent weeks, mostly discussing possible ways to feed everyone once the food supply ran out. But the two had also talked for hours one night, finishing off one of the increasingly rare bottles of wine in the fleet’s stores. It wasn’t a budding romance, more of a friendship…neither of them was ready for anything more than that. Compton was still mourning the loss of Elizabeth, and Barcomme had left a husband and a daughter behind when she’d been trapped with the fleet beyond the Barrier. But for a few hours, Compton had felt less desperately alone than he had in the months since the fleet had begun its desperate run for survival.

  “It’s Hieronymus. And Ana Zhukov. They’re still on the Colossus.”

  “What?” Compton tried to catch himself, but his shock was apparent despite his efforts.

  “Hieronymus wouldn’t leave. He said he had to remain and monitor the ship’s intelligence. And Ana wouldn’t go if he didn’t.” She paused. “Then Major Frasier stayed behind too, insisting your orders were to protect the two of them at all costs.”

  Of course. He’d given Frasier an order…and he had enough experience to understand how seriously a veteran Marine took such commands. Seriously…and literally too.

  “Thank you, Dr. Barcomme. I appreciate the heads up.” He flipped off the com, shaking his head as he did, angry at his own distraction. When he’d picked up the shuttles fleeing the Colossus, he’d just assumed Cutter and all his people were aboard. You underestimated Hieronymus, he thought, angry at himself. Underneath the introverted professor exterior, the good doctor has a streak of courage….

  He sighed. Cutter had saved the fleet…or at least given it a chance. Compton wasn’t about to let him die in that monstrous vessel. And he had no intention of losing Ana Zhukov or Connor Frasier…apart from personal feelings, he needed people like them if the fleet was to have any hope of surviving for the long term.

  He stared down at his screen. It was centered on the Colossus as the massive vessel fought off at least fifty First Imperium ships. The enemy had been confused at first, and they’d been slow to react when the massive super-battleship opened fire on them. Compton imagined the messages bombarding the big ship as the fleet intelligences tried to call off the attack from one of their own. But Cutter had disabled the Colossus’ com systems, and the messages went unanswered. Finally, after half a dozen ships had been destroyed, the rest of the First Imperium fleet moved to engage the rogue dreadnought.

  Compton watched as another Leviathan vanished in the fury of a matter/antimatter explosion. He’d been stunned at what he saw when the Colossus first opened fire. The massive vessel had rows of particle accelerators along its port and starboard, almost like the broadside of an old style sailing ship. The weapons were
enormous, powered by the almost incalculable energy output of the 19 kilometer ship.

  He’d looked on in astonished wonder when the great weapons first lanced out, tearing into the hulls of the enemy Leviathans. The dark matter infused armor that had proven so resistant to the human fleet’s weapons, tore like paper under the massive barrages.

  Now, Compton stared as yet another of the great Leviathans died, the second in as many minutes. The Colossus was blasting the enemy ships with as much firepower as Compton’s entire fleet…perhaps more. But it, too, was taking damage. Its hull was enormously strong, its own dark matter armor vastly heavier than that of the smaller First Imperium ships. But the Leviathans swarming it had powerful batteries too. Not as strong, certainly, as those on the Colossus, but still the products of the tremendous technology that created both. Rents began to appear in the super-battleship’s hull, and one by one, its unspeakably powerful batteries began to fall silent.

  Compton knew the big ship had plenty of fight left in it. But he also realized that for all its amazing firepower, it wasn’t going to win. Not by itself. We’re coming, he thought, as he stared at the deadly fight unfolding in the flickering light of his screen.

  No. I won’t sacrifice them. They deserve better…and if we get out of this system, we’re going to need them. Hieronymus Cutter is more important to this fleet’s survival than I am.

  He slapped his hand on his com unit, activating Admiral Hurley’s com unit.

  “Greta…I need to you do something for me…”

  * * *

  “I think we can slip between those two Leviathans without crossing into either one’s interdiction zone.” Hurley never second-guessed Wilder’s piloting, but this was more about navigation than hot-sticking it in the pilot’s chair. Midway’s sixteen remaining fighters were formed up in a tight crescent, trying to reach the Colossus without getting blown to bits by any of the First Imperium ships clustering around. John Wilder was the best pilot in the fleet, but this time they were escorting three shuttles that didn’t have a tenth the thrust and maneuverability of the Lightning fighter-bombers.

  Those things fly like three-legged pigs, she thought, her frustration momentarily getting the best of her. It didn’t matter how sluggish the shuttles were, they were the most important part of the mission. Her job was to rescue the last three human beings on that Colossus, no matter what the cost. No matter what the cost. Compton’s exact words.

  She’d have preferred to just load the three of them on a fighter, but she knew that wouldn’t work. They weren’t exactly landing on Midway’s flight deck. Cutter’s team had rigged docking stations to connect with the ingress/egress ports on a standard fleet shuttle. There was no way a Lightning fighter-bomber was going to be able to dock with one of those…not without a team of engineers and a lot more time than she had.

  “Okay everybody, listen up.” She was on the master com channel—transmitting to all three shuttles and all her fighters. “I’m sending nav instructions. We’re going to try to maneuver in without going through any areas that are too hot. Shuttle pilots, I know those things aren’t Lightnings, but I need you to squeeze out every gram of performance you can. There is a battle going on. A little extra speed or maneuverability could save your life. And the mission.”

  She wondered what they all thought of that mission. There were almost a hundred people on her fighters and the three shuttles, and they were all at risk. To save three people. She understood Doctor Cutter’s importance to any future the fleet might have…indeed, she realized they’d all be dead already without the Colossus the brilliant scientist had somehow managed to control and bring into the fight. That alone justified the rescue attempt. But it was still hard on the men and women sent to put their lives on the line.

  Her eyes dropped to the display. There it was, the Colossus, almost 19 kilometers of pure power. It was fighting the dozen remaining Leviathans…and most of the rest of the First Imperium fleet. It was losing, or at least it would lose eventually. But it was also gutting the enemy fleet. And Compton was bringing the surviving human ships back into the melee. She wondered if he’d make it back into firing range before the Colossus was gone. She figured it was a coin toss.

  “All units, execute nav instructions in five…four…three…”

  They were running out of time. It was now or never.

  “Two…one…”

  * * *

  “I’m sorry, Ana. You should have gone with the others.” Cutter angled his head, staring at the armored form of Connor Frasier standing against the wall. “And you too, Major.”

  “Do not trouble yourself, Doctor. I am following Admiral Compton’s orders, and I have no regrets.”

  Cutter nodded slightly. He knew the Marine was afraid…they were all afraid. But he was just as certain Frasier would never admit it.

  “We gave the fleet a chance, Hieronymus,” Ana answered softly. She wasn’t as successful as Frasier at keeping the fear from her voice, but overall she was holding herself together fairly well. “That’s something to be proud of.”

  “Yes,” Cutter replied, “and the others brought back a treasure trove of data with them. It will be massively useful in finding a way to survive in First Imperium space.” Ana had only managed to scratch the surface of the massive intelligence’s data bases before she’d filled up every storage unit she had with her. Still, the information she’d gleaned included centuries of scientific development…and the first accounts mankind had of the history of the First Imperium. Cutter knew he wouldn’t be there to supervise the research effort, but there would be others. Perhaps the data would be enough for someone to continue his and Ana’s work…to find a way to defeat—or make peace with—the enemy.

  The ship shook hard, most likely a secondary explosion somewhere. The Colossus had gunned down a third of the First Imperium fleet already, but now it was beginning to falter. Its massive batteries were still firing, though barely half of them remained in action. Cutter wasn’t an expert in warships, but he didn’t think it would be too long now. The intelligence had activated a large screen for his use, displaying the scanning data of the battle. The Colossus was virtually surrounded by Leviathans, and all the ships were at a virtual dead stop, blasting away at each other at close range.

  The ship shook again, and the lights dimmed briefly. “The primary power conduit to this sector was severed. I have engaged backup system.” The intelligence’s tone hadn’t changed. It showed no fear, nor any recognizable hesitancy about continuing to follow Cutter’s orders, even though they would almost certainly lead to its destruction. And soon.

  Cutter leaned back in the seat and sighed. He’d taken a massive gamble in attempting to activate the First Imperium vessel. He hadn’t known the fleet would be attacked when he did it. It was his own initiative...no, more than that…his reckless craving for knowledge, his need to match his mind against such a superior adversary. His actions had possibly saved the fleet, but that had been an accident, nothing he could take credit for. He’d never imagined he could take total control of the ship so quickly, let alone bringing it back to X18 just as the fleet was fighting a hopeless battle. He realized how lucky they had been…and his own impending death didn’t alter his view of the good fortune that had smiled on their venture. He would die, and Ana too, but perhaps thousands would live as a result of what they had done. And if the fleet had been destroyed, Cutter knew he and Ana would have died anyway.

  “Doctor Cutter? Major Frasier?” The small portable com unit crackled to life, a woman’s voice calling to them by name.

  Cutter hopped out of his chair and raced to the communications device. “Cutter here,” he replied.

  “Doctor Cutter, this is Admiral Hurley. I am leading a rescue mission to get you off that ship. How long will it take you to get back to your original ingress point?”

  Cutter paused. It had taken them literally days to explore their way in this far, but now they knew the way back. “I’m not sure, Admiral. Half an hour
? Maybe more.”

  “No good,” came the reply. That ship’s not going to be there in half an hour.”

  Cutter sighed hard. It was at least four kilometers back to the docking station. “Then you might as well go home, Admiral. There’s no point in risking your people for nothing.”

  “Fuck that, Doctor. I came to get you, and by God, I’m going to get you.” A pause. “You have survival suits, right? Is there any way you can get to an airlock faster? I can pluck you out of space before you run out of air.”

  “Yes, we have suits.” He’d kept everyone on bottled and recycled air, not willing to trust the First Imperium atmosphere the intelligence had restored. The survival suits weren’t meant for serious EVA, but they could sustain life in deep space long enough to allow a rescue attempt.

  “Hold on, Admiral.” Cutter turned toward the globe he knew was the intelligence’s core. It was a meaningless gesture…the computer didn’t care if he was facing it or not when they communicated. But it made him feel better somehow. “Display the fastest route to an operable airlock.”

  Will the thing get upset that I am leaving it behind to die?

  “Displaying optimal escape route.”

  Cutter’s eyes focused on the map for half a minute before he got his bearings. Then he saw it. Less than half a kilometer.

  “Admiral, five minutes. Does that work?”

  “It works fine. Don’t waste time talking to me. And remember to set your transponders on full power so we can find you.”

  Cutter nodded, as much to himself as anything. “Alright, Admiral.” Then, an instant later. “Thanks.”

  “Okay, let’s get go…”

  The ship shook again, harder this time. Cutter fell and slid across the deck, crashing painfully into a large structural column. He started to get up, but he paused for an instant on his hands and knees, shaking his head. The fall had knocked the wind out of him. It was at least thirty seconds before he started to stand…and his eyes found Ana.