The Glory of the Empress

by Sean Danker

  More ships were jumping in. Dayal weaved and spun through the jump field, deftly avoiding the incoming impacts and launching mines that obliterated the newly arrived pirates even as their ships decelerated into position.

  “This isn’t working,” Mao said, watching the charts. “Get ready to bring it in.”

  The Lydia was struck again, and Bjorn could feel his chair struggle to stabilize. The fighters could fly circles around this fleet all day, but without a ship to come back to, they were nothing. The Lydia was quick and hardy, but it couldn’t keep this up for long under the full fire of Tenbrook’s fleet. It was a miracle they’d lasted this long.

  “You have the return order,” Bjorn told Kladinova as he fired disruptive countermeasures off both of the Lydia’s flanks to cover the fighters on their way in. The ship rolled, further interfering with the targeting computers that would want to capitalize on their retreat.

  All four fighters wheeled around and began to streak toward the ship.

  It happened suddenly. Through the viewport there was a flash so bright that the smart carbon couldn’t quite keep up. It burned Bjorn’s eyes.

  “Tenbrook’s fired,” Compton called out. “Target’s the Sunbath.”

  “I’ve got it,” Lucas said, peeling out of the return formation. The casual way he said it did nothing to belie the magnitude of what he was about to do.

  Compton, eyes wide, face white, opened his mouth to protest, but then he closed it.

  Mao was speechless as well. They all were.

  Bjorn watched in horror as the major smoothly evaded the hail of fire that he inevitably drew, almost absently destroying a small cruiser as he passed, accelerating to drive up his kinetic protector.

  Time slowed down as the light on Bjorn’s screen representing the fusion projectile crept toward the Sunbath.

  Lucas intercepted it halfway there and struck it at full speed. The fighters were coming in to dock at the moment of impact, which overpowered the viewport, turning it pure white. As the Lydia corrected, Bjorn could see a massive burnoff of energy, an explosion almost the size of Tenbrook’s Perdita.

  As Mao was shouting orders and the others were swearing, Bjorn was checking his feed.

  Major Lucas was still there. His kinetic shield had protected him from the explosion that had taken out four more pirate vessels that hadn’t managed to get clear.

  Mao was furious. Bjorn knew she didn’t object to what Lucas had done, but she couldn’t go invisible with the Lydia until the major was safely back.

  “He’s not moving,” Compton called out. “The impact may have knocked him cold.”

  He was right. The fire had stopped abruptly when Lucas rammed the fusion projectile. Pirates scrambled to get out of the way, pulling back. The drones were still firing on the Lydia, but the AI was staying ahead of them.

  It was, in a sense, almost a moment of calm. And Lucas was out there, just drifting. Defenseless.

  Then he was gone.

  Bjorn blinked and looked again. He’d felt intense sickness, knowing that in a moment the tiny fighter would be obliterated by a barrage of weapons fire from the two dozen pirate ships still fit to fight.

  But that hadn’t happened. Lucas’ Everwing had simply vanished.

  “Perdita is preparing to fire again,” the AI reported.

  “Where’d he go?” Mao demanded.

  “They snatched him,” Sergeant Golding said. She highlighted Major Lucas on the chart. He was being drawn into one of the Perdita’s open bays. “Without the shield, he’s no different from any other ship.”

  “Empress,” Compton said, getting to his feet.

  “Take us dark,” Mao snapped.

  “I don’t believe it,” Woodhouse said, eyes wide. “How could he do that?”

  “He knew what he was doing,” Mao said, opening the channel to Doyle and Mara. They were both in their command chairs on their respective bridges.

  Lucas had known. He couldn’t have known that his shield could withstand a fusion detonation, but he must have known that he would be destroyed in the vulnerable moment after the impact.

  But that hadn’t happened. He’d been captured instead.

  Doyle clearly didn’t know what to say. He was only Major Compton’s age, but just then he looked much older. So did Compton.

  Mara said nothing. She only stared.

  Both passenger ships had scanners. They could sense the energy buildup in the Perdita’s fusion cannon.

  Bjorn checked the other ships. They were tracking now, searching for a target. The Lydia had managed to disappear, and Kladinova had gotten in safely.

  “Firing in four,” the AI was saying.

  “Can’t we do something?” Woodhouse demanded.

  Now unable to see the fighters, several of the pirates were starting to get evasive, anticipating attacks that weren’t coming. Bjorn took no satisfaction in their paranoia.

  “Like what?” Mao asked, her gaze still fixed on the viewport.

  “Three. Two.” Bjorn shielded his eyes as the Perdita launched a second fusion projectile at the Sunbath.

  The Margarita immediately burned its port thrusters at full, beginning to drift off-kilter. The crippled passenger ship was slow, but not too slow for this. She couldn’t fly in a straight line without her stabilizer, but now she wasn’t trying to. Bjorn knew what Mara was doing.

  The bridge was perfectly silent as the mammoth ship rolled in front of the Sunbath, protecting her from the blast.

  The Sunbath herself was already trying to evade. Doyle was committed to getting out of the way.

  Even with shields, nothing could have protected the Margarita from such a weapon.

  Though it appeared slow and lethargic on a tracking screen, the fusion projectile moved nearly as fast as an Everwing fighter.

  Bjorn saw a glowing hole open up in the side of the Margarita, and he knew that was all he would see. The ship wouldn’t explode, but there would be nothing left inside. Jets of plasma burned off in spectacular golden streaks, and pieces of the cruiser broke away, disintegrating.

  There was a warm, bright glow from inside the ship for a moment, then nothing. Though the massive hulk of the Margarita was still there, floating in space, it vanished from Bjorn’s scan.

  Bjorn was afraid he would be sick. Trying to breathe, he hit the release for his straps and got to his feet, catching himself on the console. Sweat dripped from his face to fall on the feed beneath his palms.

  Mao’s hands were behind her back. She stared through the viewport, never taking her eyes off the remains of the Margarita.

  The pilots were all talking on the com, but they were just a hum in Bjorn’s ear.

  Compton was leaning forward, covering his mouth. Sergeant Golding wasn’t doing any better.

  Bjorn started to turn away, but halted as the AI spoke.

  “Commander, we are being hailed.”

  “By whom?” Mao asked softly.

  “Battle station Perdita.”

  13

  MAO closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, her face hard.

  “Tenbrook, or just his command?”

  “Perdita’s bridge, Commander.”

  “He’s getting ready to fire again,” Compton said. “This time it’s the Sunbath.”

  “The Sunbath’s spinning up,” Woodhouse said, sounding puzzled. “I thought these guys couldn’t jump.”

  “So did I,” Mao said sharply. “What’s his heading?”

  “He just sent us a packet,” Sergeant Golding reported, opening her decryption interface.

  “Perdita is extremely insistent,” the AI said.

  “There he goes.” Bjorn watched the Sunbath jump away. A moment later, Perdita’s fusion charge began to fade. He suspected Tenbrook had been bluffing anyway; he’d readied the cannon to pressure Mao
to respond.

  The pirate vessels were beginning to form up around Perdita, staying close.

  The chassis of the Margarita continued to float aimlessly, pieces breaking away and disintegrating.

  “Put him through,” Mao said, straightening up.

  Tenbrook appeared on the main feed. He looked older than the picture Bjorn had seen, but otherwise the same. He had a fashionable haircut, and wore an expensive-looking blue shirt with a high collar. His deep-set dark eyes were fixed on Commander Mao.

  “Hello,” he said.

  A muscle twitched in the commander’s cheek.

  “I’m Sebastian. Who are you?” His accent was either New Earth or Free Trade space. Bjorn couldn’t be any more specific than that.

  “Commander Mao. Imperial Service.”

  “Kelly Mao?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And I’ve already met your ship.”

  Tenbrook spoke in a low monotone. His face didn’t give anything away.

  “Why did you feel the need to kill those refugees?” Mao asked.

  “You call them refugees. Other people call them traitors.” He shrugged. “I was surprised to see Captain Doyle hop away there. I didn’t think he’d risk it.”

  Mao said nothing.

  “So, I have one of your men,” Tenbrook went on. “I’m having him brought here now. Also one of your fighters. You’re a little quiet. Something on your mind?”

  “I wish you hadn’t killed those people,” Mao told him frankly.

  “They weren’t your people.”

  She didn’t reply.

  Tenbrook went on. “Aren’t you more bothered that I’ve got one of yours? I would be.”

  Mao’s poker face was as good as Tenbrook’s.

  Bjorn understood why Mara had given up the Margarita for the Sunbath. Her ship was crippled, and clearly didn’t have jump capabilities. That was the reason the two ships were flying the old-fashioned way through dangerous space. But Mara knew that the Sunbath could still jump. If they all stayed, they all died. But with her out of the picture, Doyle could jump his ship to safety. She’d saved him, and also freed him to protect the people aboard his ship.

  Mara had thwarted Tenbrook’s plan to use the crippled refugee ship as leverage, but now Tenbrook had Major Lucas to bargain with.

  “Commander, I’d prefer it if we could be civil about this,” Tenbrook said.

  “You just murdered a lot of noncombatants. I don’t know if that’s the best way to open a civilized dialogue.”

  “I could argue that you failed to save a lot of people,” Tenbrook said. “We can also note that you just killed a few yourself.”

  “Those were combatants,” Mao explained, gesturing. “See, combatants are the ones with weapons. That are shooting.”

  “Those were innocent victims of this war. You think they’d be here if they had a choice? No one wants to tangle with imperials. Surely you know that.”

  “Pirates under duress are still pirates.”

  “I’m not here to dislodge you from your moral high ground, Commander.”

  Mao wasn’t playing. She looked at him expectantly.

  “Fair enough,” Tenbrook said. “To tell you the truth, I’m just waiting for my men to deliver your pilot. I’m trying to make conversation. We can switch off if you like, and I can call back in a few minutes.”

  “Let me speak to Cophony.”

  “Who? Commander, I can tell you’re upset. Let’s be adults about this.”

  “Is that part of your job here? Stopping them? Does Ganraen leadership seriously believe slaughtering a hundred thousand of their own people will help them save face?” Mao asked.

  “Who can fathom the minds of such great people?” For a moment Tenbrook tried not to smile, but it didn’t work. He grinned. “We can only labor under the assumption that their judgment is fundamentally superior to ours, that true understanding is beyond our grasp. That’s why they’re in charge and we’re just out here trying to get by. Commander, you’re Evagardian.” He snorted. “So you know about inequality.”

  “What are they offering you?”

  “Is that a bid?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Nothing they can give you is worth your life,” Mao pointed out.

  His brows lifted slightly. “I thought you imperials were never supposed to let your emotions get the best of you. But I’m not really seeing that.”

  Bjorn’s ears pricked. There it was—Tenbrook couldn’t help himself. Bjorn was ready to bet anything that was a reference to Cophony and his vendetta. Tenbrook was in contact with him, not that the tactics on display during the battle hadn’t been decisive proof.

  Tenbrook was still talking.

  “We have trams, but it takes time to get around the station. Your pilot will be here in a minute. I promise.”

  Mao kept her face placid.

  “I hope this isn’t getting awkward,” Tenbrook said.

  Men in gray appeared, leading Major Lucas. His white EV suit was intact, and he looked unharmed, but dazed. They forced him down onto his knees beside Tenbrook’s command chair.

  The pirate leader looked over at the tabs on the EV suit’s collar.

  “Major, is it?”

  “That’s right,” Lucas replied, looking up at Mao on the feed on Tenbrook’s end.

  Compton got to his feet, but Mao flicked him a glance. She didn’t want Tenbrook to be able to see him, only her.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to banter,” Tenbrook said. “I can get to the point.”

  “Would you kindly?” Mao smiled, gesturing invitingly.

  “I know you won’t hand the ship over. I know you’d rather die. I’m not asking you to do that. Escape with your crew and destroy the ship.” Tenbrook reached over and put his hand on Major Lucas’ head. “That’s the only way any of you survive. I know it’s a lot to ask and it’s very sudden, but it’s the easiest way. This isn’t personal. It saves me some trouble and saves your lives. Do you understand what I’m asking?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m trying to be reasonable,” Tenbrook said. “Professional.”

  “Reasonable professionals don’t murder helpless people.”

  “But now you know I’m serious. You have to know what I’ll do to this man, to those refugees, and to you and your crew if you don’t work with me here.”

  “Would you let the refugees go if I gave up the Lydia?”

  “In a heartbeat,” Tenbrook replied.

  Mao leaned forward. “You promise?” she asked.

  His eyes narrowed, but the commander spoke before Tenbrook could.

  “This is a vessel of the Imperial Service. You don’t dictate to me, and I don’t negotiate. You can return my pilot and leave Demenis without harming anyone else. Otherwise I’m going to kill you. That’s it. That’s all there is. There’s nothing to talk about.”

  Tenbrook seemed genuinely taken aback.

  “I really thought destroying that ship would make my point,” he said, scratching his cheek.

  “It’s not your place to make a point. This is Evagardian space. You don’t have a voice here. There’s only the Empress. And since she isn’t around, you’ve got me.”

  “I see. You understand this man is not going to enjoy his time with me. And I’ll just take more of your pilots if you try to fight. We can save time, Commander Mao. Time and expense and suffering.”

  Major Lucas gave Mao a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

  Bjorn felt his throat tighten.

  Compton ran his hands through his hair, but didn’t look away.

  “You should know better than to expect me to deal,” Mao said, touching the underside of her left wrist with her right index finger. A tiny holographic display materialized.

  “You should know that I don�
�t have a reputation for bluffing,” Tenbrook shot back, annoyed.

  Mao keyed something on the hologram.

  Major Lucas twitched, and his eyes closed. He slumped over, out of sight.

  Tenbrook looked down sharply, startled.

  Compton stalked off the bridge. Bjorn couldn’t move. Woodhouse leaned on his console, and Sergeant Golding grimaced.

  “Well,” Tenbrook said, glancing down at Lucas’ body. “I didn’t expect you to do that. Now I suppose you’ll threaten me again.”

  Mao cut the com.

  “Lydia, jump,” she ordered.

  The ship’s stabilizers kicked in, and the jump lights began to flash.

  Bjorn couldn’t look at Mao any longer. He undid his straps and got to his feet, moving away from his console. One more reason to keep his implant active.

  So his commander could use it to kill him if he was captured.

  14

  EVERYONE was together in Red Bay. Everyone except Lieutenant Kladinova.

  Bjorn found her still in the cockpit of her fighter. The shield was raised, and she’d undone her straps. She had her face in her hands, and her shoulders were quivering.

  Had Major Lucas’ death hit her that hard? Bjorn hurried to the fighter. He’d always gotten the impression that there was a deep disconnect between Kladinova and the rest of the crew. He was sure that she and Lucas had no special rapport. The major had been a competent and likable man, but something was off.

  Kladinova looked up as he approached. Her face was pale, her eyes were bright, and she looked terrified. Her face was shining. She was literally dripping with sweat.

  “I have to clean up,” she said abruptly, leaping down and running past him. Bjorn turned, one hand raised, but she wouldn’t stop or come back. He didn’t even bother. He just watched her go. Her voice had been shaking, but not with grief.

  The commander spoke over the com.

  “Form up,” she ordered.

  There was a clear contrast between the reactions of those new to war and those who had been through this before. Of the older crew members, only Major Compton was showing emotion. He and Major Lucas had been married to the same girl. That wasn’t exactly the same as being married to each other, but they had obviously been close.