Juggernaut: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 2

by Scott Bartlett

  “Welcome, Flockhead Ek,” Wingleader Ty, the captain, said. “I cede command of this Roostship to you.”

  That gave her a moment’s pause. Flockhead. She supposed that was what she was, now.

  “Thank you, Wingleader,” she said. “But I ask that you remain by my side. While I feel reasonably confident in my ability to anticipate the enemy’s strategy, my knowledge of this ship’s capabilities pales beside yours.”

  “Yes, Honored One—I mean, Flockhead. If it suits you, I’ll stay on as XO, and my current XO will enter the rotation of strategic adjutants.”

  “That will be fine.” Ek settled into the Captain’s chair and began studying the tactical display, which had been expanded to show the entire Larkspur System.

  The UHF fleet had finished regrouping at Pinnacle, and as Ek had expected, they were rushing toward the center of the system. Reading their intentions did not require the perception of a Fin: they aimed to neutralize the growing Winger force before it became a meaningful threat.

  But Ek did not stop at simply interpreting the enemy’s objectives. Next, she considered what Carrow likely perceived about her own intentions.

  Her message to the Wingers had been unencrypted, and so he would not only know that her reinforcements were on the way but also that, lacking the instantaneous communication enabled by dark tech, she was forced to linger at the center of the system to make sure those reinforcements reached her. She could not communicate a new destination to Wingers on their way from other Bastion Sector systems, as they would be once her message was relayed to them, and so she needed to hold firm.

  What else might Carrow anticipate? His current fleet, though comprised of dozens of battle groups totaling nearly five hundred ships, did not represent the UHF’s full might. Over four hundred Fleet ships would be on their way from connecting systems, where they had been attacking Winger colonies. They would arrive soon, and almost certainly earlier than the Winger ships would.

  With such an overwhelming force, Carrow likely felt confident, and understandably so. As a result, there were several factors he was probably failing to consider. Ek considered it reasonable to assume that the admiral saw only the battle before him: the relatively tiny Winger force at the system’s center, growing steadily but not fast enough. Waiting to be flattened with a single hammer blow.

  As Carrow’s fleet screamed toward them and Ek’s bridge crew began exhibiting signs of nervousness, likely due to her inaction, she stretched her strategic calculus to admit several other factors.

  What of possible Gok involvement? That could not be counted on. Even if she could draw the Gok into the battle somehow, her Roostships stood just as great a chance of getting targeted by them as the UHF warships.

  What of the Providence? Captain Keyes was captured, and the Providence waited in the Vermillion Shipyards to be dismantled. That news had reached her on Zakros.

  And what of Captain Keyes’s actions after the destruction of Spire but prior to his capture? Interesting. She quickly took stock of the individuals she knew to be aboard the Providence during that period, keeping that list in mind as she progressed with her thinking.

  What of the Tumbra? It was absurd on the face of it. Even if they had wanted to contribute, Tumbra knew nothing of battle.

  But they are well-versed in bookkeeping. They do not merely record the comings and goings of ships through darkgates, but also the ever-changing galactic balance of power. And what gets tracked gets managed.

  She had learned much during her frequent visits to coffee stations, where every Tumbran she had met had demonstrated a willingness to tell her everything she cared to know. They had evidently cherished the opportunity to converse with a Fin, and they had sensed that she appreciated the value of discretion.

  Wingleader Ty spoke, cutting into her thoughts. “Flockhead? I don’t meant to question you, but the enemy ships will arrive in under two hours, and we haven’t begun any preparations.” He clacked his beak.

  Ek could tell her presence had kindled a flame of hope inside the Wingers, but they dared not feed that flame too much fuel. From his body language, the wingleader clearly believed she had frozen at the sight of such an overwhelming enemy force.

  “I require more time for thought,” she said. “I would appreciate no further interruptions. If I must, I will seek seclusion to avoid them, but I would rather remain here, where I have immediate access to all relevant data and can dispense orders the moment I arrive at them.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Of course.”

  And what of the resistance against the current government of the human Commonwealth? Would it enjoy meaningful success, and if so, could that be leveraged in any way?

  And again, the Tumbra… Surely they could see that galactic power was headed for a serious imbalance, in the form of the Ixa eradicating all other life, if events continued along their present course. Though not well-versed in military matters, the Tumbra had developed subtle ways of influencing power dynamics. Right now, human governance clearly needed a historic shift, and soon. She rated it as fairly probable that a Tumbran would find a way to help effect that shift, and sooner than anyone thought.

  What else? There was Commander Vaghn and the warlords, who would likely come to Ek’s aid, if their mettle was anywhere near as strong as she had judged. But she had no idea how long they would take to arrive.

  And then there were non-military Wingers. Pirates. Reports abounded of their departure en masse from Pirate’s Path, and if they had continued to spread, taking advantage of the unrest, there was little chance they would come to her aid. But if they had reversed course for any reason…

  She reviewed all of the knowledge at her disposal in light of this new question. Captain Keyes’s flight through the stars, the composition of his crew, the amount of resistance the pirates were likely to face from Tumbra who monitored the darkgates, widespread Winger resentment of the UHF…

  Ek became conscious that the level of noise in the bridge had increased. Her crew shifted nervously in their seats, rustling their feathers, whispering to each other. A glance at the tactical display told her that the nearest enemy ships were a little over an hour away.

  Finally, there were the Kaithe. Are they likely to emerge from their long period of isolation? Ek thought not. She was not certain a reason existed that would motivate them to do so. She also knew Captain Keyes did not trust the Kaithe, after they directed him to Ochrim, who had proceeded to betray humanity in the most heinous of ways.

  “I have arrived at my first order.”

  A small amount of tension leaked out of Ty’s otherwise stiff wings, and he turned his enormous black orbs toward her. “Yes? What is it, Flockhead Ek?”

  “It is worthwhile for us to stall for time.”

  “Oh? Um, how do you propose we do that?”

  “Fifteen minutes before Admiral Carrow reaches laser range, I would like the navigation adjutant to bring us about and then hard to port, in order to avoid any kinetic impactors the enemy has sent our way. Relay the same evasive maneuver to all other ships in our fleet. Following that, chart a swift course around the nearest side of the star, a course that encourages the enemy to keep to one side of it, without splitting its forces. And so it should also put considerable distance between us and the sun, to allay any fears the admiral has about us trying to loop back around it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her crew executed the orders with an efficiency borne of long experience. Behind them, Admiral Carrow acted exactly as she expected. To him, her actions would look like a feint, like she wanted to portray to him that she was trying to escape, when he knew well that she had to remain at the star.

  Of course, it would look like a poor feint. And her maneuver did not even leave open the opportunity to veer back around the star and buy time that way. Carrow would chalk it up to her lack of military experience.

  His confidence proclaimed itself in the way his fleet gave chase in a thin convoy around the star, battle group after
battle group, all following the most efficient intercept course possible. Having accelerated all the way from Pinnacle, the enemy’s momentum was much greater than that of the Roostships, and so they would quickly close the gap.

  “We are receiving a transmission request from the flagship Excalibur,” the communications adjutant said.

  “Send a fleetwide order to spread out perpendicular to the enemy’s trajectory, come fully about, and fire engines at full until our momentum has been arrested,” Ek told the navigation adjutant.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Admiral Carrow appeared on the screen. “A Fin admiral,” he said. “Now I’ve seen it all. That was quite a message you sent to your bird friends, fish.”

  “Admiral Carrow, I have realized how low our chances are of winning this fight. I hereby surrender to you. I have already given the order to my fleet to spread out, come to a halt, and prepare to be boarded in as orderly a manner as possible.”

  She could hear a storm of beak-clacking and feather-rustling from all around the bridge. But as she had anticipated, the Wingers were too shocked to interject.

  A smug smile crept across Carrow’s face. “So you have an ounce of sense after all. Good move, Fin. I suppose I’ll be meeting you in person shortly.” He vanished from the bridge’s main screen.

  Ek cast her eyes around the bridge, meeting the aghast expressions worn by her crew. “Put me on the fleetwide.”

  The communications adjutant jerked in surprise, and then did as she was told. “It’s done, Flockhead.”

  “The UHF has ruled the galaxy with an iron fist since the First Galactic War,” Fin said to her fleet. “Now, it wages a fierce war against a former ally, a war it had every opportunity to cease, as the Providence did. Worst of all, the UHF stood by and did nothing as the Gok extinguished all life on Spire. The line of action I have chosen for us does not smack of honor. It will not make for a story to proudly tell your grandsires. But it will sow chaos among the enemy ranks, and it will maximize our chances of victory. You have granted me command of your ships. I demand that you continue to follow my orders. My people were all murdered, and I am full of cold fire.”

  “Our fleet has come to rest,” the sensors adjutant said quietly. “The enemy nears, Flockhead.”

  “Launch all Talons with orders to attack. Fire lasers at the leading UHF ships. Fire kinetic impactors. Fire missiles.”

  Teach them the meaning of a Fin at war.

  Chapter 59

  The Cruiser and the Frigate

  “Come in,” Husher’s father called the instant he knocked on the hatch. He opened it to find Warren sitting on a gleaming metal chair that looked sleek and modern and not very comfortable.

  “What can I do for you?” Warren asked.

  “I…” Husher cleared his throat. “I’ve come to ask you to be my XO. You have long military experience captaining warships, and I need all the help I can get.”

  Maybe because he was used to dealing with superiors who were older than him and mostly considered themselves infinitely wiser, Husher expected to detect at least a hint of gloating from his father over the request.

  But Warren gave no sign of that. “I’d be honored.”

  With a curt nod, Husher said, “Very good. We’d better get to the CIC.”

  They’d transitioned into the Caprice System two hours ago, trailed by the Wingers in command of the Stevenson. That put them three hours out from the Vermillion Shipyards, where the UHF built most of its warships.

  As they walked, his father wasted no time in breaking down his tactical analysis of the impending engagement. “I’m willing to bet the turrets on those shipyards are no joke. Have you given any thought to how you’ll deal with them?”

  “I have, but I’ve yet to come up with anything viable.”

  “Here’s an idea. A trick I came up with during the First Galactic War. Prepare your Condors for launch from the shuttle bay they’re in. Without their launch catapults, your pilots won’t enter battle with the energy they’re used to, but the shipyards’ defenders won’t expect to face Condors out of a missile cruiser. The element of surprise should compensate for the lower energy, if the Battle of Rik was any indication.”

  “That’s perfect. We can launch shuttles filled with marines simultaneously, and to cover them we can order the Condors to target the platform’s turrets with a heavy dose of Banshees, while we do the same from the Contest.”

  “Yep. Against a traditional orbital defense platform we might have had trouble, but a lot of the Vermillion Shipyards’ mass is devoted to building warships, not to weapons. Which makes sense, I suppose.”

  Piper awaited them just outside the CIC, his thin-fingered hands clasped over his little pot belly, which poked out below the turtleneck-like garment that Tumbran monitors wore. The alien studiously ignored Warren, who, just hours ago, he’d encountered for the first time since the First Galactic War. Warren had immediately begun poking fun at him, asking whether he intended to smother the enemy in paperwork, and Piper had descended into a moody silence.

  Apparently, he’d recovered from it. “Seeing the Wingers fly UHF ships solo gave me an idea for a program that would allow us to control their navigation systems remotely,” he said, gazing solemnly up at Husher. “I’ve been working on the software since we left Pinnacle, and I believe I can finish it in time. Provided this mission is a success, perhaps we can use it to liberate some spaceworthy vessels from the shipyards. They may prove useful when we attempt to rescue Captain Keyes.”

  “That’s brilliant, Piper,” Husher said. “I take back everything I ever said about you.”

  The Tumbran bristled. “I do not.”

  Warren brayed laughter at that, and they continued into the CIC.

  “Captain,” his sensor operator said as they entered. “I was just about to get the communications adjutant to—”

  “You mean the Coms officer.” Husher didn’t enjoy being a stickler, but the Wingers needed to remember they served under him now, and if he didn’t remind them of that, it would anger the human members of the crew. What a tedious balancing act this has become.

  “Yes. I was going to ask him to contact you. It seems you were correct that the apparent lack of warships defending the shipyards was a ruse. A destroyer has just lifted off from the Vermillion Shipyards and is approaching on an intercept course.”

  Husher’s father gave a terse laugh as he settled into the XO’s chair. “Cocky of them to leave the safety of the turrets.”

  “They want to avoid any damage to the shipyards and the warships under construction there,” Husher said. “They think they can take out both the Contest and the Stevenson before we ever reach the platform, and they may be right. There’s no question that a missile cruiser and a frigate will be outclassed by a destroyer. Possibly even with the addition of our Condors.”

  “There’s a small chance we’d beat them with the Condors,” Warren said. “But by deploying them early, we’d waste the opportunity to use them in order to bypass the shipyard turrets and reach the Providence.”

  “Yeah,” Husher said, momentarily distracted by the way his father slouched in the XO’s seat. Is that how he used to sit in his Captain’s chair, aboard the Hornet? He’d heard about his father’s reputation for doing things differently, which had fed into the narrative that he was a traitor. Now he was beginning to see the reputation was well-founded.

  “Captain, the captain of the Stevenson has sent us a transmission request.”

  “Accept.”

  The white-feathered Winger in command of the frigate appeared on the main viewscreen. “Captain Husher, I am contacting you to offer to engage the destroyer alone, allowing you to speed past her toward the Vermillion Shipyards. We will harry and delay her for as long as we can.”

  Husher studied the alien’s face carefully. “The Wingers aboard the Active were gripped by an urge to launch a suicidal attack against a superior enemy force. Have you been taken by a similar impulse?”


  The Winger clacked its beak. “No, Captain. My proposal amounts to what you might call a sacrifice. Unlike many members of my species, I do not wish to die. But I understand that if I risk death now, it will be in service to all Wingers and to life in the galaxy as a whole.”

  “The very definition of sacrifice,” Warren said.

  “Yes,” Husher said. “Thank you, then, Wingleader, on behalf of both our species.”

  The Winger nodded. “Our work begins.” The viewscreen went dark.

  Chapter 60

  Oorah

  The cargo ship had entered the Sol System and was now approaching Mars. As the planet grew large on the viewscreen in the crew’s mess, the ship’s captain entered and approached Bernard where she sat with Simpson and Ralston.

  “Our cargo is bound for Venus, and we require our lander to transport it down to that planet. But an old friend has agreed to dock with us and take you to whatever part of Mars you wish, Senator.” The captain coughed into his fist. “There should be no need to interact with a spaceport, if you don’t wish to.”

  “I see,” Bernard said. “That kind of friend. Thank you, Captain. I will confer with my own friends, and we’ll have an answer for yours momentarily.”

  The captain bowed slightly and excused himself.

  She turned to the others. “Where can we have the most impact?”

  Simpson was already scrolling through independent news sites using Bernard’s com. “Looks like a protester, er, defender, was killed by a truck while blocking a road leading to an Ocharium refinery. It was played off as an accident, but Hurst just passed a law that basically legalized vehicular manslaughter, and the driver was discovered to be a Darkstream employee.”

  “Bastards,” Ralston spat. “They’re trying to shut people up through intimidation.”

  “That’s where we must go,” Bernard said. She stood up. “I’ll tell the captain.”