The Prodigal Emperor (The Shadow Space Chronicles Book 3)

by Kal Spriggs

  Elsewhere in the station, he knew that human teams had already attacked their targets. He didn't know how successful they had been, but he did know that the Chxor Empire ground forces needed to capture the command section if they wanted to have any hope of regaining control over the station.

  Galt had seized the command section before they could transmit any requests for help from High Commander Chxarals. That was his mission, after all, to prevent word from getting out until it was too late. In truth, Galt had realized that it was something of a suicide mission, but he had accepted it anyway. Fleet Commander Kral didn't have enough trusted forces to give him any more than the one team. The rest of his efforts would be aimed at securing defense stations and planetary defense centers as well as eliminating those he couldn't trust aboard his own ships.

  That was fine with Galt. Galt didn't care about winning a great victory in the rebellion against the Benevolence Council. He didn't even really care much about freeing the humans of the system, though he had found their emotions fascinating.

  Galt just wanted to hurt the bastards who had kept him a slave, his emotions pinned so tightly that he had begun to go insane. Only being freed by Kral had prevented that decline. Well, he admitted, that and the human movies that I watched after my capture.

  He leaned around the barricade and cut down another of the ground force police. “Take that you bastards!” Galt shouted. He adopted a human accent, “Say hello to my little friend!”

  Hrak gave a bellowing laugh at that, “He means his gun! That is a hilarious joke, because you shot them!”

  Okay, Galt thought, maybe he does understand jokes.

  ***

  Periclum Debris Cloud, Nova Roma System

  (Contested)

  May 22, 2404

  Fleet Commander Thxanal cut off his fire at the fleeing gunboats as High Commander Chxarals' orders came in. “Adjust your formation for maximum dispersal,” the Chxor ordered. “We are taking substantial attrition due to debris and you would be advised to orient your defense screens to minimize your damage.”

  “Of course, High Commander,” Thxanal said. He turned to his Ship Commander, “Transmit orders to our Fleet, adopt dispersion pattern Flan-three.” That would give them the best dispersal against debris clusters while still allowing them to engage and destroy targets across a broad front. It was not optimal to fight in, however clearly the High Commander assumed that the enemy had put their primary force on the far side of the debris cloud to engage Force Two.

  “Fleet Commander, we are detecting the first squadrons from Force Two's cruiser elements are on approach. Where should I slot them into our formation?” Ship Commander Txan asked.

  Thxanal did not want the ships integrated into his formation, but he thought it best to avoid exposing his rear as Fleet Commander Fhxud had. “Tell them to take up position at our rear, to tie into our formation as best as they can with the purpose of closing our rear arc.”

  “Yes, Fleet Commander,” Txan said.

  Thxanal focussed his attention on the forward arc of their advance. The Beta Band, as the humans had labeled it, was the least dense at this region and was mostly made up of smaller pieces of debris, most a few meters across or smaller. In a dispersed formation, his ships quickly cleared paths through the debris, although the shifting nature of the environment meant that drifting bits continued to enter their cleared lanes. Even so, other than the occasional impact of smaller debris, his ships had begun to make good time. Combined with how Force One had slowed, he would soon be in position on their flank to support them, he knew.

  “Fleet Commander,” Txan said, “I am detecting some anomalies with the squadrons from Force Two.” The officer took a moment to bring up sensor data. “Although their lead elements have the right transponder data, I've detected odd energy spikes among some of their trail elements.”

  Thxanal examined the data for a moment, “You are right. I want a full sensor readout of those ships immediately.”

  “Of course, Fleet Commander,” Txan began. Yet the ship rocked with a sudden impact, and then another. “Fleet Commander, we are taking fire from the ships. The ones closest to us have begun jamming, I cannot get sensor data on the others.”

  Fleet Commander Thxanal pulled up the data, even as his ship rocked again with impacts. He heard alarms wail as he checked the data. It seemed that four of the enemy vessels had positioned themselves in a skirmish line near the rear of his formation. Those four ships had systems akin to his own firefly systems, yet their jammers seemed far more powerful or efficient, for at this range they were blinding his systems. Several of the closer dreadnoughts reported that their sensor systems were actually being damaged trying to get targeting data from astern.

  Worse, the four ships were alternating not just the direction and strength of their jamming, but the frequencies. On top of that, his communications with the rest of his forces cut in and out as the ships to their rear utilized some sort of communications jamming.

  What he didn't miss, however, was how two of his dreadnoughts had already come apart under sustained enemy fire... or how his own flagship had begun to take a significant number of hits. “Orders to the Fleet,” Thxanal said, “Shift formation to Len-Seven.” That was the formation shift he had designated for an enemy force to their rear. He watched as his ships shifted, the cruisers and dreadnoughts moving as ordered, yet it seemed to happen painfully slowly.

  Worse, it put his open rear to the debris field and his formation still had significant momentum into the debris cloud. Yet he would rather take random hits over directed fire.

  His ship shuddered again and he noted that the incoming fire matched the output of a dreadnought's main battery, yet the enemy had only cruiser-class vessels. What have they done to those ships?

  His fleet had almost finished the shift in formation when Ship Commander Txan spoke, “Fleet Commander, I am picking up ships in our rear quadrant.”

  Thxanal started to say that of course there were ships in the rear quadrant... until he realized that Txan meant behind their new formation. Thxanal felt shock as a boil of light, swift vessels appeared at less than ten thousand kilometers behind his formation... and then they fired.

  ***

  Tommy heard someone on the bridge give a whoop as the enemy formation shifted. He just gave a slight smirk as he nodded at his weapons officer. “All ships, you are free to engage.”

  The pirate squadron had slipped close to the enemy force and he had shadowed their approach, just outside their sensor range. Tommy had felt a bit of interest as Admiral Collae had apparently mimicked the emissions of standard Chxor ships, but he had filed that interest away for another day. Just as he had decided to further investigate the firepower of the Admiral's cruisers when he had the opportunity.

  The effectiveness of those cruisers was clear. Three of the Chxor dreadnoughts had been ripped apart in only the first few seconds of engagement. A dozen more took multiple hits and the tightly controlled fire shifted from one target to the next with an almost clinical precision.

  My turn, Tommy thought with a predatory smile.

  The ships of his squadron swept in fast. He didn't bother with direct orders, his captains knew how to handle their own ships and they went into the mass of Chxor dreadnoughts like a pack of wolves into a herd of lumbering cattle. There could be no directing their courses, as each captain maneuvered independently, dodging and weaving among the Chxor vessels and firing the entire time.

  The enemy ships didn't know how to react. Fighter squadrons swept in along the flanks of enemy ships while cruisers engaged the enemy dreadnoughts from point blank.

  The Chxor started to react after a few moments, their batteries volleyed in response, striking at the light, swift pirate craft. The Revenge shuddered as it took a glancing hit. Tommy saw the younger Ranger come apart as it flew directly into the full fire of a dreadnought. It seems that the elder frigate would retain the name after all, he thought, as long as it survives.

&n
bsp; Yet the battle was almost one-sided all along the Chxor lines as the thirteen ships of his squadron swept through the enemy formation. The Kraken flew at his flank, her guns lashing out in all directions with the precision of a surgeon to smash weapons turrets, defense screen emitters, and to shatter engine pods. Seventeen dreadnoughts staggered out of formation, venting atmosphere and spewing debris. Almost half of the enemy formation lashed around them blindly, hitting friend and foe indiscriminately. All the while, Admiral Collae's cruisers continued to fire into the rear of the Chxor fleet.

  Tommy's grin grew broad as the Revenge emerged from the wall of Chxor dreadnoughts and spun, the battlecruiser's guns firing in almost all directions, before she turned and dove back into the maw of the Chxor. This, he thought, is one hell of a fight.

  ***

  “High Commander,” Ship Commander Thrxil said, “Fleet Commander Thxanal reports that his force is decisively engaged by an estimated fifty vessels of cruiser size. He requests assistance.”

  High Commander Chxarals looked at the Ship Commander with disbelief. “He has two hundred dreadnoughts, why does he need help?”

  “He doesn't answer, High Commander. His flagship's transponder has ceased to function,” Ship Commander Thxril said.

  If he has survived, Chxarals thought, I will have him executed for incompetence. “Order Force Three to withdraw outside the debris field, develop standoff with the enemy, and engage them on better terms.” He still wasn't certain why Thxanal had disregarded his multiple orders to return to a phalanx formation. He had acknowledged receipt of every one of those orders, Chxarals could see that on his communications monitor. Chxarals never for a moment considered that his communications might be compromised.

  “Force One, maintain current course and be mindful of enemy ambush,” Chxarals said. Force One had drawn within the Gamma and Delta bands of the debris cloud, though his trail elements extended along their path almost to the outer layers of the Beta and Alpha bands. The long, worm-like formation had a broad front, but the long trail through the open corridor stretched almost ten thousand kilometers. We are approaching our most vulnerable point, he thought, the enemy will attack soon.

  On that cue, the fighter force emerged from the debris field ahead, almost right where he had plotted Theta Station's location. “Initiate defense pattern golan-two,” he said. His ships reacted quickly, for he had spent weeks drilling them in preparation for this moment. The interlocking defense screens and overlapping directed jamming formed up a multilayered defense that would shed the enemy missile fire, just as they had before. It was not a vulnerable worm, he knew, it was an armored serpent with a poisoned sting. Even so, as he watched the ships of Force Two struggle to withdraw from the enemies that had engaged them from both sides, he almost gave the order to withdraw.

  “High Commander,” his Ship Commander said, “We are detecting additional vessels moving into engagement range from our flanks. Ship estimates are coming online now.”

  Ah, he thought as he recognized ship classes, Emperor Romulus IV has committed himself at last. Even if he had not recognized the energy signature of the infamous battleship War Shrike, then he would have recognized the superdreadnought which had been stolen from the shipyards. Now he could commit, confident that the losses he would suffer would be worth the final goal. Now he could destroy this human infestation.

  The humans had rallied a number of vessels for their final stand, he saw. A second of their Desperado-class battleships joined the War Shrike, along with a battlecruiser, a heavy cruiser, a pair of light cruisers, and at least five destroyers. The squadron of frigates and two squadrons of corvettes completed the force. If High Commander Chxarals could have felt pleasure, he would have for the fact that the enemy had finally come to him and guaranteed their destruction.

  “Execute plan golan-two, step jull,” he said. His ships responded as where the enemy force approached on his flank, the force thickened as cruisers spun to position themselves ideally for the defense, even as his dreadnoughts angled to engage with their full batteries. At the fore of his formation, his dreadnoughts prepared to fire through the gaps in their defenses and clear out the missile salvo, while at his rear, the formation shifted to better engage the enemy from the flank, as the long, armored serpent shifted it's tail to strike.

  The enemy was outmatched and outgunned... and Chxarals gave the order to open fire with complete confidence that the enemy would be destroyed.

  That was when the universe went mad.

  ***

  Captain Naeveus, gave a hiss of warning as his command squadron swept under the belly of a rock the size of the War Shrike. It was not, needless to say, where he had planned to be, but confusion in the bomber squadrons mean he had to reroute some of his other squadrons and he had chosen the most difficult route for himself.

  Just as well that he did, for in the tight maneuvers of the Theta Band, he had lost some craft to collisions. At least two had collided with debris large enough to damage their craft severely, and one more had struck something hard enough to trigger his antimatter warheads... which had also killed the other five craft in his squadron. I could have lost half my bombers in a mad chain reaction if it had happened even a few seconds earlier, he thought.

  Yet he hadn't, and the depleted wing of bombers along with his half a wing of Harrassers were coming up on their attack run, along with the six wings of Patriots from Admiral Collae. As far as Naeveus knew, the Patriots had not been retrofitted to carry their antimatter warheads, instead Admiral Collae had fitted them with captured Chxor munitions, sixty megaton fusion warheads built by the Chxor on copied designs from captured Nova Roma missiles. Captain Naeveus fully appreciated the irony of using those to liberate the Nova Roma system.

  “All squadrons,” Naeveus said as he streamed targeting data to both his fighters and those of Admiral Collae, “engage targets and return to rearm.” He felt satisfaction as he saw that wave of missiles go out. It was smaller by a significant margin from the one he had launched earlier... but it was also made up of far more capable missiles, launched at closer range. He saw that Admiral Collae's Patriots had launched on time as well and that they had already maneuvered to return to their carriers. That's pretty damned scary, he thought, Colonial Republic Fleet forces are bad enough with a few squadrons of fighters from one of their small carriers, I would hate to face one of his big carriers.

  At least they were on his side in this battle, he thought as his squadrons turned back towards Theta Station and the crews that waited there to reload them.

  He didn't know if they would have time to rearm, but the plan called for them to at least try. Naeveus knew that if this salvo went poorly along with the other attacks, the Chxor dreadnoughts would reach Theta Station and Admiral Collae's carriers while his craft were still aboard.

  But if the attack did succeed, then his fighters would have enough time to reload and come back to finish the bastards off. Naeveus was a strong believer in the power of positive thought, just now. He spun his Harasser away and back along his reverse vector, the agile heavy fighter responding to his touch with the faithfulness of a lover.

  His blissful feeling evaporated though as he saw the disarray in some of his bomber squadrons. “Damn you, Bravo Squadron, get your asses back on course...”

  ***

  Admiral Valens Balventia gave a snarl as the enemy formation shifted in front of him. This, he knew, was the most dangerous point, when the firepower of three hundred dreadnoughts would be focused on his ships.

  And though he had sworn his oath to Emperor Romulus IV and the Emperor officially commanded the formation... they were still his ships and his people... just as the plan was one that he and Lucius Giovanni had worked out together.

  It is strange, he thought, how easy it is to come to like him. His father would not have approved. For that matter, Valens wasn't certain he approved of having made peace... yet once it was done, he had felt an enormous relief.

  He saw the Chxor for
mation settle into position, just as the inbound wave of missiles from the joint fighter strike accelerated towards the Chxor formation. On the face of things, with the heavy directed jamming and the screening cruisers, it looked hopeless as Valens tiny force stared down the guns of three hundred dreadnoughts. Yet Valens felt only a sense of tranquility and peace as he saw the Chxor move into position.

  There was something very comforting about knowing that Lucius Giovanni was on his side.

  “Sir,” Ensign Brunetti said from the sensors, “Baron Giovanni sends his respects, he's commencing the attack now.”

  The Chxor had begun to fire and the War Shrike's bridge shuddered as the battleship took first one hit and then another. Yet the old battleship had yet to fire, they had no targets among the heavy jamming of the Chxor Fleet. “Evasion pattern delta, get us some more space between us!” Valens snapped as he monitored the Fleet's maneuvers. Part of him longed to take control of the ship and direct it, but he had to keep focused on the big picture.

  He could see the men under his command dying as the lead ships began to take multiple hits. The small frigates and corvettes couldn't take even a single hit and he winced as he saw two of them vanish in as many seconds. Lucius, he thought, you had better be in position or this was all for naught...

  Valens smiled then as the entire Chxor formation shuddered. Cruisers turned, some attempting to react to orders to shift position while others cut off their jamming as they maneuvered to avoid collisions.

  Behind them, he could see the enemy dreadnoughts, the lumbering behemoths tried desperately to turn as something struck them from behind.

  Now his ships had targets. “Engage,” he said with a snarl.

  ***

  Lucius felt his heart twist a bit as the entire Chxor formation shifted to engage the Nova Roma Imperial Fleet. The tiny force moved forward into the maw of the enemy fleet... all the while they knew that they couldn't break that formation on their own... and that they would take the brunt of the enemy firepower.