The Glory of the Empress

by Sean Danker

  He could see Diana slumped in her cockpit, blood running over her chin.

  Bjorn used his override, and the canopy opened. He reached for the handle to pull himself up, but his hand slipped. He looked down to see that it was covered in blood. His neck was bleeding again. More blood was flowing down the white surface of his EV, joining the dark, dried stains that already seemed to cover it.

  It wasn’t the blood that startled him; it was Diana. Her face was as white as her EV, and her blood seemed unnaturally dark. In a way, Bjorn was almost glad that Woodhouse would never know about this. As a physician, he would be more offended than anyone about what Bjorn and Diana had done.

  Jaw set, he pulled himself up and reached into the cockpit to disconnect Diana’s collar and harness before lifting her out.

  The hatch opened as he carried her across the bay, and Sergeant Golding came jogging in.

  “Is she alive? What happened? By the Founder, what’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s alive,” Bjorn replied tightly. He focused on keeping her in his arms and putting one foot in front of the other.

  “Was she hurt?”

  “She’s ill. What about you?”

  She gave him a funny look, then touched her head. “Flesh wound.”

  “Ibuki’s on alert?”

  “He’s the only one fit right now.”

  “We need to get these fighters checked.”

  “Not until we get our people checked.” She stopped and looked back at Compton and DiJeur. “I’d better take care of them.”

  “Patch yourself up first.”

  Bjorn didn’t wait for an answer; he just headed for the infirmary. Major Morel was already there, staring at a cabinet.

  Troubled, Bjorn paused, forgetting Diana.

  “What is it?”

  The major just shook his head and wrenched the cabinet open. Bjorn saw what was inside. Body bags.

  Feeling cold, Bjorn laid Kladinova down on the examination table and leaned down to check her breathing. She was in a heightened state of arousal, but knowing about Harbinger and taking her elevated adrenaline into account, he thought her vitals seemed stable. It was her pallor that Bjorn was having difficulty with. He’d seen pale people. He’d seen people with some strange body mods. But he’d never seen a truly white human before.

  Morel was staring at her. Diana had been pale two hours ago, but this was too much, too quickly. She must have upped her dosage again on her own initiative. To the AI, Bjorn’s being cut off from the ship was the same as being dead. The Lydia had given Bjorn’s privileges to Diana when it lost track of him. Diana had been in full control of her Harbinger levels. It looked as if she’d pushed them to the limit and left them there. She was accelerating whatever the Harbinger was doing to her.

  The major stared down at her for a long moment, and Bjorn expected him to ask the same thing Golding had.

  “You saved her life,” he said instead.

  “Her flying’s the only reason any of us have lived this long,” Bjorn replied.

  The major didn’t say anything to that. Carrying a bundle of body bags under his arm, Morel left the infirmary. He had five of them. Three contractors, two shipmates. Two more shipmates in stasis. One dead on Oasis, another lost to Tenbrook.

  As for Diana, Bjorn wasn’t sure how to proceed. As he considered the problem, Bjorn stripped out of his EV to apply real dressings to his side and neck.

  The hatch opened, and Mao entered the infirmary. She looked very small, and very tired.

  Only a few short hours ago, she probably couldn’t have resisted a joke or two about walking in on him naked.

  That felt like another life. Her eyes flicked over him, but there was only concern.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Bjorn began to pull his bloodstained EV back on.

  Wordlessly Mao touched her hand to the stasis module containing Rada. She stared through the window at the ensign’s peaceful face. Bjorn saw her throat bob.

  She went to the examination table and leaned over Diana, reaching down to brush aside her damp ringlets. She wiped the blood from her mouth, and looked at her vitals on the scanner.

  “You were in on this,” she said. She wasn’t blind.

  “It was my idea.”

  She snorted. “Sure,” she said softly.

  Bjorn winced as he sealed his suit. This wasn’t the time to act tough. He helped himself to another painkiller hypo. He could tell from Mao’s body language what was coming next. She’d already decided what to do.

  “You two are the only reason we’re still here,” Mao said, gazing down at Diana.

  “Possibly,” he replied.

  “And we’re not going to live long enough for any recourse to matter.” She sighed. “You knew that.”

  Bjorn didn’t say anything. He just returned her gaze.

  She stared at him for a long moment, then turned away and spoke into the com.

  “Can we rally in the infirmary, please? Quickly. There isn’t much time.”

  Bjorn leaned against the bulkhead beside Rada’s stasis module to wait. He’d given himself a couple units of blood as well. He tried to breathe slowly and deeply, but nothing could kill his nausea.

  Morel and Golding arrived together, both ragged.

  Ibuki couldn’t leave his fighter. Diana was unconscious.

  No one else was coming.

  The four of them stared at one another for several seconds. Finally Mao straightened up.

  “Ibuki, you with us?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied over the com.

  Mao rubbed at her eyes. “There’s no time. Tenbrook’s coming. The only reason he isn’t here yet is because he really didn’t expect us here, and he’s a long way off. Wake her up,” she said to Bjorn, jerking her chin at Diana.

  Bjorn didn’t hesitate. He had instincts, a desire to be gentle. To protect his pilot. But that wasn’t going to happen. He plunged a stimulant hypo into her thigh, and her eyes snapped open.

  They all gasped in surprise, even Major Morel.

  Diana’s irises were red. Bloodred. Not bloodshot, not inflamed—red. And bright. They were the brightest, clearest eyes that Bjorn had ever seen. They almost seemed to glow, burning against her flat white skin.

  She sat up and coughed.

  They all watched her pull in a long, ragged breath. Diana put her palm on her forehead and rubbed, scowling. “Empress,” she muttered. “What happened?”

  “You passed out in your cockpit,” Mao said shortly, staring at her. Bjorn could see in her eyes that Mao was deeply troubled by what she was looking at, but she also knew there was nothing for it. She seemed to gather herself. “Just listen.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Diana got to her feet. She looked uneasy, but perfectly steady. That would change the instant she saw a mirror.

  “Woodhouse,” Mao said, looking at Bjorn.

  He swallowed. “KIA.”

  She nodded. Mao had already known; once coms were restored, she’d had access to the crew’s vitals, and she had seen that Captain Woodhouse no longer had any.

  Her eyes flicked to the two stasis modules. “Good job bringing them back. But there’s no time to think about casualties. I estimate it’s been about twenty minutes since Tenbrook learned that we’re here.” She looked down at the drops of blood on the floor. “So by now he’s on his way.”

  “Where’s Doyle?” Bjorn asked.

  “Close. He’s still our priority. He made a good start on repairing his jump drive. We’re going with a new plan now. It won’t be pretty. It’s not very Evagardian. There’s no glory in it, but my back’s against the wall.” Mao folded her arms. “Tenbrook’s going to come, and we’ll be here when he does. We’ll protect Doyle and his passengers.”

  “You want to fight it out?” Morel
asked. There was nothing in his voice—no reluctance, no scorn. It was a simple question.

  Mao hesitated. “If I have to,” she replied at last. “I want to run.”

  “Ma’am?” Golding cocked her head.

  “If Doyle can jump to safety, there’s nothing keeping us here,” Mao said. “Alone, we can outrun Tenbrook and his fleet without a problem. I don’t care about Tenbrook anymore. I want to get you guys home. I want to buy Doyle the time he needs, and once he’s away, we’re leaving too.”

  “What about the mission?”

  “No long-range coms means I have the final word,” Mao stated flatly. “I decide what the mission is and when it’s accomplished. If the fleet decides to weigh in, I’m all ears.”

  “How much time can we buy in a stand-up fight against Perdita?” Morel asked.

  “I don’t know. We might not last long. But there’s another way to stretch it out.”

  “I don’t understand,” Diana said.

  “We use Oasis. Break it apart. The signal interference is coming from some kind of field generated by these xenos that infested the place. We can use it. Lydia’s figured out how to compensate for it; our scanners will work. Tenbrook’s won’t, and he won’t be able to adapt in time to do him any good. We use the station wreckage to create a debris field that’ll blind them. Play to our strengths; we’ll use stealth for as long as we can to keep them guessing before we sortie. Could get us thirty seconds. Could get us thirty minutes. Ibuki, is your fighter rearming?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then get out there and make us some cover. I’d do it myself, but I used all of my missiles back there. I’m down to plasma and harsh language.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ve sent off our operational data. I think hidden imperial assets in this sector will pick it up. The fleet will know what happened here. I even threw in a request for help,” Mao added. “But don’t hold your breath. Cophony knows our every weakness. He even knows our strategies. It’s the only explanation for how they just got the jump on us. Those guys walked right through our bay shields. Cophony took more with him than we realized. We’ve had every possible disadvantage, and we’re still in it. One ship with a crew of twelve. We’ve made our point.”

  “Orders?” Bjorn asked.

  “Prep all four fighters. It won’t take Cophony long to figure out what we’re doing. I don’t know what to expect from him, but we need to be ready to sortie at full strength. Lieutenant Kladinova, Lieutenant Ibuki, Sergeant Golding, and Major Morel will fly. I’ll keep the helm, and Lieutenant Bjorn will run tactical.”

  “Overwatch for four fighters,” Morel grunted, glancing at Bjorn. “No problem for you, right?”

  “He is the best support,” Golding said.

  Bjorn scowled at her. “I’m an analyst,” he said.

  27

  IT took all the ordnance that Ibuki’s fighter could carry to demolish Oasis, but the result was impressive. The debris field was even larger than they needed it to be, and though the signal interference was spotty, it was now much more widespread.

  Everyone knew that, one way or another, it would be over soon. There wasn’t time for rest. The most serious injury was to Golding’s shoulder, but she was on enough painkillers and stimulants that she seemed to have forgotten about it. Bjorn was in a similar situation. His suit had finally finished sealing itself, and though he knew there was a bandage on his side for a reason, the stim he’d taken made sure he felt good enough to keep busy.

  The Lydia herself had taken some damage during the battle, and the AI’s repair robots were crawling around industriously. Bjorn didn’t like them much; they reminded him of the xenos he’d seen on Oasis. At least he wasn’t planning to live long enough to see them in his dreams.

  The subject of Diana didn’t come up. No one questioned her about what she had done, though everyone who was left knew the truth now. No one questioned her readiness to fight, because there was no point. Why talk about it? They had no choice but to put their faith in her. The only alternative was putting Bjorn in the cockpit instead, but that would leave the other three pilots effectively without tactical support. Besides, even if Diana passed out after a minute of combat, she’d do more damage in that minute than Bjorn could in ten.

  Mao was playing with the cards she’d been dealt. She wasn’t complaining.

  She had found the only possible way out. It was easy to understand why, with no other option, she’d so readily go all in.

  “How do you feel?” Bjorn asked as Diana climbed into the fighter. She settled back in the seat and reached for the harness, then stopped.

  “Good,” she said. “Really good. I don’t know what happened.”

  “You overheated. That’s why you passed out.”

  “You’re talking about me like I’m a machine.”

  “Your body is a machine. It’s changing faster than it can keep up with. Your brain can’t function at that temperature. You’re still hot, but you’re down from what you were an hour ago. You’re adjusting. I don’t think you’ll pass out again, at least not for the same reason. Your body is as confused as you are. It’s not communicating with the Harbinger, and the Harbinger is just doing what it wants.”

  She swallowed. “I feel good, though.”

  “Glad to hear it. Your stabilizers are back to your settings. I don’t have time to do a full check, but you’re showing green. No gambling this time, and you need to listen to me when I tell you to break off. Not that you will.”

  “I’ll try,” she said. Bjorn knew that was the best he was going to get. He looked across the bay. Major Morel was climbing into Unit Four.

  Outside the bay shield, stars and debris glittered.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Bjorn said, leaning on the Everwing and looking up at her eyes. Bright red or not, they’d become misty and distant. “You’re hoping this thing does go open. You’re hoping it does because then you can go out there again.” Bjorn ran his hand along the side of Unit Three. “And this time you won’t have to come back.”

  “I don’t have a future anymore, Bjorn.”

  “Well, you’re not going to be able to marry up.” Bjorn shrugged. “And your career’s over. But apart from that, things aren’t so bad.”

  “Is this how you usually comfort people?”

  “I’m an analyst.” He rubbed at his eyes.

  “And what does the analyst in you say?”

  “He says you’re under a lot of stress right now, and this is a big decision. Don’t make big decisions when you’re under a lot of stress if you can help it. You’re our ace. We’ll need you.”

  She looked out at the stars. “Right up until the end.”

  Bjorn let his breath out and nodded.

  “Do you think she means it?”

  “The commander? Her plan?”

  “Do you think there’s a chance we can really get away?”

  “Tenbrook’s been two steps ahead all the way so far,” Bjorn said. “I don’t have a reason to think that’s going to change.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. But if she wasn’t saying that for me, who was it for?”

  “Me?” Bjorn smiled.

  Diana snorted. “Can you handle all four of us if it comes to that?”

  “How hard can it be?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I looked at tactical.”

  “If it gets to be too much, I can just get a couple of you killed. That’ll make it simpler.”

  “I guess we’ll all be seeing the Duchess soon enough.”

  “I didn’t know you were superstitious.”

  Diana found a lock of her ringlets and examined it critically. “Only when I don’t have anything else going for me,” she said. “I look like some kind of monster.”

  “It works for you.”

/>   She smiled. “If you do see something that looks like Evagardian flying, though”—Diana turned to stare outside again; debris continued to drift past the ship—“you’ll let me have him, won’t you?”

  “You didn’t like him much, did you?”

  “I liked him fine before he betrayed the Empress. It’s now that I don’t like him so much. They’re all dead because of Cophony. Tenbrook might be clever, but he never could have done all of this himself. Only Cophony could’ve given those men what they needed to get aboard this ship.”

  “I know.”

  “I was really asking,” Diana said, “can you run tactical for us all?”

  “What could go wrong?”

  “Why aren’t you afraid?”

  “No money in it.”

  “I never am going to find out what your deal is, am I?”

  “I didn’t know you cared.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Don’t make it weird,” Bjorn said. He closed her canopy and started away, looking down at his hands. Solid tactical support for four fighters wasn’t going to happen, and they all knew it. The question was this: did he focus his attention on Diana to get the most out of her flying genius, or let her act on her own and worry about the others?

  He made up his mind, crossed the spine, and entered the other bay.

  Ibuki was already in his cockpit. Like Morel, he appeared to be trying to relax.

  “What happened to Compton?” Bjorn asked bluntly.

  Ibuki leaned back in his seat, tugging at the harness.

  “I was close to the bridge when they breached. The commander ordered me in. But DiJeur was already in the bay, getting ready to sortie. Reuben was helping her. He managed to get her canopy down before they could shoot her, but they had him dead to rights. DiJeur should have just launched and left him. But she didn’t.”

  “They threatened him?”

  Ibuki nodded. “And she came out.”

  Bjorn pressed his fist to his forehead for a moment, then took a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Me too.” Ibuki’s face was placid, but not in a good way.

  “You got this?”