The Glory of the Empress

by Sean Danker

  “At least somebody is.”

  “Heads up. I got a contact by the Lydia,” Ibuki said, breaking off.

  “I’m closest. I’ve got it,” Bjorn said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Diana told him. “The autodestruct is on. It’s not like they can stop it.”

  “But they might be able to pull something off the computers before it goes. They can get into the bays, remember? I’ll stop them.” Without waiting for an answer, Bjorn wheeled the fighter around and took off toward the Lydia, which hung stationary in front of the debris field. With its stealth systems deactivated, the white ship was impossible to miss.

  There was a shuttle from Perdita entering Blue Bay. Bjorn saw it land.

  He accelerated, targeting the Lydia with his rail gun. But the rail gun was a poor weapon for actually destroying vessels, particularly Evagardian ones. It felt surreal to aim at his own ship. Bjorn didn’t fire.

  He didn’t have to destroy the ship to stop Tenbrook’s men. The shuttle was going inside.

  He didn’t even have to kill anyone.

  Bjorn slipped the Everwing through the shield, spinning into a hard reverse thrust to avoid crashing into the far end of the bay.

  The shuttle stood with its landing ramp down. There were two men in tech suits carrying something large. They froze in the act, staring at the fighter.

  Bjorn twisted the fighter around, visibly bringing his rail gun to bear. He pointed a finger at them, then jerked it sharply over his shoulder, indicating open space.

  The two men dropped their breaking kit and scrambled back into the shuttle, raising the ramp behind them. Bjorn watched as the shuttle lifted from the deck and drifted awkwardly out the way it had come, then thrust away, back toward the station.

  He gazed after it for a moment, then snorted.

  “Got it?” Diana asked.

  “Taken care of,” he said, letting out his breath. Bjorn didn’t know what of value they could’ve gotten, but it didn’t seem right to just let them try for free.

  He looked around the bay. At the deployment gear and the tool carts. An hour ago, being here seemed perfectly natural. But he hadn’t expected to come back. Bjorn put his hands on the controls, but after a moment he took them off and sat back.

  With a crew of only twelve, the Lydia had never seemed crowded. She wasn’t a large ship, but the bays were roomy. Usually there was someone on alert, someone in an Everwing, and a few people in their quarters. He only had the impression of a crowd when Mao summoned everyone, or when there were too many people in the spine at once.

  Still, the bay didn’t look right when it was completely empty.

  No fighters. No people.

  Bjorn opened the canopy and climbed out of the Everwing. His leg burned, but he could limp now.

  “Lydia,” he said.

  “Evacuation recommended,” the AI replied. “Automatic destruct in six hundred seconds.”

  Bjorn looked up. He’d intended to ask how long he had; she’d beaten him to it. He went to the hatch and stepped into the spine, making his way to the bridge. It was amazing how little time had passed since he left the ship. A great deal had happened, but it had all happened very quickly.

  He didn’t know why the ship’s AI had cut the warning Klaxons, but he was glad it had. It was quiet.

  There were a few drops of Mao’s blood on the white floor of the bridge. Otherwise it looked perfectly normal, if a little lonely without the commander.

  The occasional flashes of light through the viewport told Bjorn that all four Everwings were still in flight. He straightened the command chair and sank into it.

  “Lydia, hail Perdita.”

  Tenbrook appeared on the viewport. Bjorn made the image partially transparent and moved it aside; he didn’t want Tenbrook to block his view.

  “You,” Tenbrook said, narrowing his eyes. He must have seen Bjorn on the security feeds during his time on Perdita.

  Bjorn tried to sit up a little straighter, shifting in the unfamiliar seat.

  The command chair wasn’t as comfortable as it looked.

  “Do you have any idea how valuable that man was?” Tenbrook asked, visibly miffed.

  “We don’t place a lot of value on disloyalty,” Bjorn replied, looking down at his thigh. He took out his last tube of sealant and used it on the wound, wondering why he even bothered. “It’s a cultural thing.”

  “Taunting me? When you’ve already lost?”

  “Not really. I’m actually contacting you with an appeal.”

  Tenbrook’s brows rose. “Oh?”

  “I’d like to know what happened to the woman who boarded your station with me.”

  Tenbrook groaned. “I’ll let you know when I have her.”

  Bjorn was taken aback. “She’s still free?”

  “No one’s ever had the gall to try boarding me before,” Tenbrook replied, annoyed. “It seems my security forces have gotten rather soft after many years without serious incident.”

  “I noticed that. Sounds like your reputation’s done a good job protecting you, even if your people haven’t,” Bjorn observed.

  “That’s what it’s there for. It’s still vexing, though. And Cophony had to chase you personally.” Tenbrook shook his head. “Prideful idiot. That really is a terrible imperial failing. It almost strikes me as . . . systemic. At any rate, I hope you’re happy. This has been an expensive trip.”

  “You’re taking it well.”

  “Losing their composure doesn’t help people achieve their goals. I don’t suppose you know what your commander’s up to?”

  “I don’t understand the question,” Bjorn replied.

  “I’d assumed she came to extract my prisoner.”

  “She didn’t?”

  “No. She hasn’t shown the slightest interest in the brig. She attacked my security hub and disabled my surveillance network. Though not before I had to watch you murder my meal ticket,” Tenbrook added, scowling.

  “Treason. The Empress doesn’t like it. You know how she is.” Bjorn formed his hand into a claw and waved it tiredly, giving a halfhearted little hiss.

  Tenbrook just looked tired. He leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. A hatch behind him opened, and a security man poked his head onto the bridge, speaking to someone Bjorn couldn’t see. Tenbrook ignored it.

  “So, your shipboard surveillance is down?”

  “We’ve got it back.” Tenbrook ran his hand through his hair. “She could be making for the brig now, but you had such an advantage when you came crashing in here that you might as well have done that from the start, don’t you think? You can communicate with her, can’t you? Through your nanocommunication? Actually, never mind. You won’t convince her to give herself up. In a few minutes your ship will detonate. In a little while these fighters will deliberately crash themselves, I’m sure. I don’t have to worry about any of you for long. But I have this terrible vision of this endless search, trying to get this woman off my station, like a tenacious insect.”

  “I can imagine.” Bjorn smiled at the thought. But Perdita’s security would get their act together, and Tenbrook would bring pirate specialists aboard who wouldn’t have any difficulty tracking Mao down. If she wanted to make a play for Major Nelson, now was the time to do it, while the Everwings and the Lydia were still providing a distraction, and while Tenbrook’s reduced security force was still off-balance. Mao knew that.

  But how would she get off Perdita? If Nelson was even still alive. Surely Tenbrook had the station locked down. Any shuttle or EC trying to leave would be immediately halted.

  “So, does that answer your question? I don’t know where your commander is. All I can tell you is that I’m looking forward to finding her. I won’t kill her.”

  “Really?”

  “No. It’s hardly enough to of
fset the cost of this operation—with the number of ships lost, damage to my station, and reduction to personnel—but I’ll ransom her anyway.”

  “That’s decent of you.”

  “Grudges don’t pay the bills. Granted, I’ll take out some frustration on her first. Do you have a name, young man?”

  “Bjorn. Oen Bjorn.”

  “Well, Mr. Bjorn—it’s been nice talking to you. I’m going to let you and your colleagues get back to dying, and I’m going to get back to figuring out who’s going to pay for all this.”

  “Of course. Sorry to bother you.” Bjorn waved.

  Tenbrook raised his hand to gesture to one of his bridge staff, but something caught his attention. “Hold on,” he said.

  Bjorn swallowed.

  “They did find your commander. She’s done well to last as long as she has. Take that for what it’s worth,” Tenbrook said. “Goodbye.”

  A panel broke free from the ceiling behind Tenbrook, clattering to the bridge’s deck. A small, lithe form in white dropped through without a sound, though there were several shouts of alarm.

  Bjorn’s eyes widened as Mao rose to her feet. Tenbrook was turning in his command chair to see what the commotion was.

  “Tenbrook.” Mao raised her sidearm. “I don’t have the time or energy to list your crimes. As an officer in the service of the Empress, during time of war, I’m authorized to carry out your sentence in the field without trial.”

  He tried to say something, and she pulled the trigger. Scarlet sprayed across the camera, blurring the image in front of Bjorn.

  Tenbrook’s bridge officers were fleeing.

  Mao gazed at the body for a moment; then she noticed Bjorn. She looked genuinely stupefied.

  “How did you get back?” she demanded.

  “Major Lucas’ fighter,” he replied.

  “That’s my chair. Wait. You actually got past Cophony?”

  “Not before I sent him ahead to see the Duchess.”

  Her eyes widened. It was the first time Bjorn had ever seen her speechless. That was gratifying.

  “Then both the men we needed to speak for are taken care of,” she said. “I feel better. I wish I could say this changes something. The ship’s still crippled, and I’ll never get off this station. But at least there aren’t any loose ends.”

  “You should get out of there before security shows up.”

  “I diverted them. I told you, I’m not new to battle stations. I used to be one of these people,” she said, motioning at the officers still fleeing the bridge. Lights began to flash above her. Mao looked up in surprise.

  “What is it?” Bjorn asked.

  “The station’s autodestruct.”

  “What?”

  “I think it must’ve been linked to his vitals,” Mao said, disbelieving. “That’s childish.”

  “Not a guy you want to work for,” Bjorn said.

  “Like the way he threw his ships around wasn’t enough of a clue,” she said, shaking her head.

  “I thought you were going after Major Nelson.”

  “I’m about to, though I don’t know what good it’ll do. I guess I’d better get a move on. Good work, Bjorn.”

  Bjorn stood up and saluted. She returned it, then turned and jogged out of his field of vision.

  He sighed and sank back into the command chair, watching the lights flash on Perdita’s empty bridge. That was probably what Tenbrook had hoped to say: that killing him would trigger the destruction of the station. Bjorn remembered the aether room, and how he’d concluded that nothing could turn that energy into explosive mass apart from a deliberate overload.

  It didn’t matter. Mao would’ve shot him anyway, and she wouldn’t have hesitated.

  Bjorn noticed a blinking notification to his right, and turned to check it. The ship’s AI was giving him an override code. As the only officer aboard, he was commander by default. He reached out and touched the screen.

  “Lydia, shut down the autodestruct. Tenbrook’s going to take care of it for us, and I want to see the fireworks.”

  With Tenbrook dead, theoretically that was an opening—an opportunity to escape. But the Lydia was crippled. The ship couldn’t reach safe distance if it couldn’t move.

  The pirate ships that still had jump capabilities were vanishing more quickly than Bjorn could keep track of. The only ships left behind were the disabled ones, and those weren’t going to do anyone any good.

  “Where are they all going?” Diana asked, puzzled.

  Bjorn keyed the com. “Perdita’s on autodestruct. Apparently Tenbrook had it rigged to go when he died.”

  “He’s dead?” Ibuki was stunned.

  “The commander got him.”

  Bjorn smiled, hoping that Mao was listening to the cheers from the pilots.

  “Anyway,” he said, “you guys can come back if you want. I don’t know how long we’ve got. Maybe you can stretch your legs before it goes up. None of you have enough fuel to reach safe distance.”

  “You’re just lonely, LT,” Golding said. “Is there time?”

  “It’ll take a few minutes to get that aether network in there critical,” Bjorn said. “Commander? Commander, come in.” Bjorn waited. Nothing. He sighed. “She cut herself off. Are you guys coming back?”

  “On the way,” Diana said.

  “Yeah,” Major Morel added. “I want a drink.”

  “Me too,” Ibuki said.

  Bjorn’s eyes fell on Perdita again.

  Mao was still in there, somewhere. He drummed his fingers on the armrest for a moment, then groaned. There was nothing for it.

  He levered himself out of the command chair and limped off the bridge and into the spine. He went into Blue Bay and made for Major Lucas’ fighter. It would’ve felt good to just sit in the command chair and wait for the others, but he couldn’t leave Mao by herself aboard that station.

  “Lydia,” he said, “sync the commander’s suit tracker to this unit’s nav computer.”

  “Right away, Lieutenant Bjorn.”

  He climbed into the cockpit and fitted the collar around his neck, closing the canopy and strapping in. No launch clearance, no checklist. Things had gotten pretty informal during the last twenty minutes or so.

  Bjorn powered up the fighter and flew through the force shield.

  “Bjorn? Is that you?” Diana asked. He could see the fighters streaking toward the Lydia.

  “I’ll be right back,” he replied. “I want to pick up the commander.”

  The pirate ships that remained were doing whatever they could to distance themselves from Perdita. Some were using the thrusters they still had, and others were towing themselves with shuttles and fighters. Even with shields, it was pointless. Bjorn had seen what was inside the battle station. Only a jump could get anyone to safety in time.

  Bjorn locked in on Mao’s signal. True to his guess, she was near the outside of the station. He accelerated, plotting his vector carefully. This would take precision, but that was all right.

  Precision was what Everwings were all about.

  He routed his power into his forward barrier, sending the fighter into a dizzying spin.

  Burrowing was an official technique—it was taught in the classroom—but Bjorn had gotten the impression that it wasn’t meant to be used under official circumstances. Very few of the scenarios in the simulator ever called for it, and it was never the only way to accomplish an objective.

  It was this time. He adjusted his angle and abruptly drove the Everwing directly into the side of Perdita, plunging through shields and armor as cleanly as a shot from a rail gun.

  And just as suddenly he reversed thrust. Molten metal glowed around the bubble.

  He could see the corridor ahead.

  Mao was standing there, shielding her face from the heat and the rush o
f depressurization. She was alone, staring at him in disbelief.

  With Tenbrook dead and the station set to explode, no one was going to bother chasing her. They were more interested in evacuation.

  But Mao wasn’t evacuating, even if it looked as if she was. Her palm was pressed to a scanner on the bulkhead.

  She had stayed on the station deliberately.

  Bjorn opened the canopy.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, disbelief on her face.

  Bjorn unstrapped and stood up, beckoning. “Let’s go.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Analysts don’t joke,” he said.

  Swallowing, she stepped forward through the ruined corridor. She reached up, and he lifted her into the cockpit.

  “Hold on,” he said, pulling her into his lap. “This harness isn’t made for two.”

  “This fighter isn’t made for two,” she pointed out.

  Bjorn sealed the cockpit and reversed, letting the fighter’s computer steer. Flawlessly retracing trajectory took more precision than any human, except perhaps Diana, could provide. The only way off the station was through the same tunnel that Bjorn had created on the way in.

  In a moment they were in the open, and he took the controls, pushing them forward.

  “I thought you’d be heavier,” he said. “You look heavier.”

  Mao was silent. After a moment she twisted to stare at him.

  “Can you not move?” Bjorn brought the fighter around. “It’s distracting.”

  She made a face, but he went on.

  “Did you find Nelson?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Was that her?” Mao had just launched an escape craft. It had to be Nelson inside it.

  “And Major Lucas. Imperial ECs are designed to reach safe distance, but these aren’t imperial. And now that I think about it, I don’t think it matters.”

  Bjorn knew what she meant. The only way to reach safe distance from what was coming would be to jump. Mao had gotten Major Nelson off Perdita, but she would still die with the rest of them when the battle station went up. “It was a nice thought,” Bjorn said.

  “Thank you.” She looked at him over her shoulder again.

  “Have you got her?” Diana asked over the com.