Sector Eight (Perimeter Defense: Book #1)

by Michael Atamanov

  Change in faction opinion of the Kingdom of Fastel (inactive)

  Change in Empire opinion of the Kingdom of Fastel (inactive)

  I did not want to dig through the Prince's dirty laundry, so I permanently deleted all the messages except the very last one. I did react to that one, increasing my opinion of the praying mantis by +5 and choosing the option to inform him about my decision. Triasss Zess bowed in reply, just like a person.

  "My Prince, I would still recommend that you flee Marta the Harlot immediately and go to one of the ships of your personal squadron," said the bodyguard commander, reminding me.

  "The shuttle dock is very near us. It's on this deck," offered Sergeant Tavar Prest, and I ordered him to lead the division there.

  We passed through the cruiser's hallways without any resistance from the soldiers in gray uniforms observing us. We came out into a big hall with two identical, sleek shuttles. The sergeant walked up to the closest shuttle and knocked on the panel with his fist. With a hiss of escaping air, a part of the shuttle's chassis rose up, making room for the gangway to come out. Tavar Prest looked over the people and nonpeople swarming around and said perplexedly:

  "The shuttle has a capacity of 11, but it looks like we've got more..."

  "What's the problem? We'll take both shuttles," I said, asking the soldiers in golden uniforms if one of them could pilot the other ship.

  A few hands rose immediately, and I pointed randomly at a pudgy, but very agile technician. Inside the shuttle, the praying mantis had to fold himself in half to be able to fit into the hallway, but somehow the enormous insect was able to ram himself into the shuttle, and just a minute later, both shuttles had left the dock.

  It took considerable effort to hold back a cry of joy and amazement when a fabulously realistic map of space opened before my eyes. The game developers had done a first-rate job: both the bright orange sun and the multitude of statuesque ships looked surprisingly elaborate and well-rendered. Honestly, I had absolutely no idea how the mash-up of metallic objects and debris worked, but the others sitting in the shuttle obviously understood the map.

  "Over there is where we sorted through the alien debris," remarked a young man in a pair of orange overalls, picking something out of the chaos.

  "Well, because, back yesterday, they drove in a big transport ship and unloaded a whole space workshop from the Kingdom of Fastel. The whole rest of the day we spent cutting up debris and collecting everything of value," repeated the sturdy fellow with engineer's patches.

  Tavar Prest's question bellowed out of the cockpit:

  "My Prince, where shall I dock?"

  With horror I realized that everyone else's conversations had gone silent, and they were all looking at me, expecting an answer. And I didn't really know what I was supposed to say! Popori de Cacha saved the situation, though. Seeing that I was in no rush to answer, the chameleon decided for me:

  "Pilot, hold course to the Prince's yacht. The remaining ships in the squadron were damaged in the battle and cannot provide the proper level of security and comfort. Also, the yacht, Queen of Sin, is where the main fleet headquarters are located."

  "I see. I'll set a course for Queen of Sin," confirmed the sergeant.

  The world began sharply turning around me. The nearby sun disappeared below my feet somewhere. The stars and ships reshifted around us. I had basically never had a problem with sea sickness, but at that moment I was having a hard time holding back the contents of my stomach. The lack of reliable visual landmarks and the too weak, barely perceptible artificial gravity had put my sense organs into a state of stupor. I even had to close my eyes to not look at all the craziness on the other side of the glass.

  About a minute later, there followed a smooth jolt, and I opened my eyes. The shuttle was on the snow-white deck of a long, cigar-shaped ship. The robotic arms turned the shuttle around and pulled it into an open gate. I breathed in with relief. The flight was finally over! I even managed not to make a fool of myself in front of my subjects. I was one of the first out the door. As soon as the little pressure gage by the door changed color to green, I was off the shuttle. Then I stopped, skimming the information on the stately officer welcoming me:

  Oorast Pohl, captain of Queen of Sin

  Age: 38

  Race: Human

  Gender: Male

  Class: Military

  Achievements: Two-time winner of the Imperial Space Racing Championship in the Frigate Class. His mastery in his field and loyalty to the Empire have been affirmed repeatedly. Approved to work with members of the upper aristocracy.

  Fame: +3

  Standing: + 15

  Presumed personal opinion of you: +55 (trusting)

  The captain stopped five steps from me and took a low bow.

  "I'm glad to welcome you on board your yacht, Prince."

  "I'm glad to see you as well, Oorast, but now is not the time for pomp and circumstance. Marta will soon find out that I’ve taken a captive out from under her nose. So, give an order to all our ships: be prepared for departure at a moment’s notice."

  Despite the irregularity of the order (or perhaps it was the other way around, because orders like this from the eccentric Georg were not a rarity at all), the captain was not surprised in the least and merely asked me to clarify one thing:

  "Where will we be going, my Prince? We can jump to three warp-zones from here: either to Fastel, to the recharging station at Himora, or to the Forepost-12 zone, toward the Iseyek border.”

  "Well, definitely not to Fastel," I smirked nervously. "Let's go to Himora."

  "Prince Georg royl Inoky ton Mesfelle," said the praying mantis, addressing me. "Would it be permissible for me to take my leave and set off toward the Swarm to complete my assigned mission? Any ship in your fleet would be suitable. As soon as I can get to secure communication devices, Iseyek ships will be sent to any point in Sector Eight that you ask. I am also prepared to hand over all information on the aliens I have right now."

  With these words, Triasss Zess pulled out his neck, finding a row of spiracle cracks in his thin, gray-green skin, one of which contained a round metal ball. Keeping a careful eye on the praying mantis's actions, Popori de Cacha reached jerkily for his weapon, but the assistant to the ambassador made no sudden movements and asked:

  "Due to my temporary lack of small arms, I myself cannot reach the drive. Could one of you do it? It's just a normal memory crystal. It presents no threat to the Prince."

  Nevertheless, the vigilant chameleon looked the ball over carefully, even scanning it with a shining plate before taking it in his sticky hands.

  "My Prince, I can spare a frigate for the honorable Ambassador, Pyro-14," offered Oorast Pohl, looking at something on a handheld screen. "It has full energy drives, so the frigate will be able to bring him home and quickly return to the main fleet."

  I consented to this choice and parted ways with the huge praying mantis, who doubled himself up again to fit into the Human shuttle. After that, I ordered them to send a second shuttle back to Marta the Harlot to pick up my remaining people: the doctor, butler, and maybe some others who were still there. Then I followed the captain, left the airlock and, trying not to be too surprised at what I'd seen, went up on a high-speed, gilded elevator, before arriving at the officer's deck of my own luxury yacht.

  As I had already figured out from the captain’s words, it was here, on an unarmed, civilian starship, that Prince Georg kept the headquarters of his fleet. The only reason I could figure for what could generously be called a strange decision was that the facilities on the yacht were much more comfortable. I secretly admired the idiocy of that decision and, also, the fact that no one in the Empire had told the Prince how surprised they were at his choice of flagship for a military fleet. Two royally armed guards in gilded armor suits preemptively opened the doors before me, and I passed through into a huge control hall.

  "Get me a detailed report on losses sustained and what remains in service and what con
dition it's in!" I proclaimed loudly, having barely come into the hall.

  The nearest officer, a girl, sprung up from the seat at her desk and practically ran to hand me a flat, almost weightless tablet computer, then froze next to me at attention. I looked in some wonder at my quick subject after reading the information that popped up:

  Nicole Savoia, lieutenant of the Star Fleet of the Orange House of the Empire

  Age: 22

  Race: Human

  Gender: Female

  Class: Military

  Achievements: Top of her class at the Academy in officer tactics

  Fame: 0

  Standing: + 1

  Presumed personal opinion of you: +4 (neutral)

  On top of this, the lieutenant was even nice just to look at. She was young, with dark hair and prim and proper facial features. The fact that she wasn't wearing makeup served to highlight her natural beauty. Under my overly analytical stare, Nicole got embarrassed and even blushed slightly. I sniggered bitterly to myself – they say you’ve got nothing to be afraid of, little girl… Your Prince Georg is a hopeless impotent... Not wanting to further embarrass my subject, I looked away, immersing myself in the rows of the table.

  Prior to the fast-paced battle three days earlier with enemy ships, identified as standard Recluse-class alien destroyer scouts, the Sector Eight Fleet had two heavy assault cruisers, five light cruisers (including two cloaked cruisers), 11 destroyers, and sixty frigates. After the only 11-minute-long battle, all that remained were two light cruisers (one badly damaged), four destroyers, and 11 frigates.

  "Play back the recording of the last battle! Pay attention, everyone!" I demanded, locking my eyes on the hologram that appeared in the center of the hall.

  The battle began with a hussar charge by twenty high-speed frigates at one lone target. The alien ship threw open its gates, and a stream of drones started coming out. Jesus, what noobs! Instead of reducing the number of enemy combat drones, the small ships of my fleet were trying to get through the enemy's energy shield. After that, a heavy ship came, and it just got better from there. By that point though, there were barely any ships from the initial frigate wave left. It looked really rough. The alien ship would let loose one cannon volley, and one frigate from my fleet would go down. After the alien ship had taken down the small fries, it concentrated on the big cruiser. It was destroyed after five or six hits from the terrifying cannon. The second heavy cruiser that had also come to the battle didn't survive much longer. If it hadn't been for the Kingdom of Fastel fleet coming to finally take the enemy ship down, the defeat would have been even more terrible. The recording of the battle ended. I ripped myself from the screen and, after looking around unhurriedly at my silent subjects, depressed after being made to watch their defeat, I said calmly:

  "Even though that battle was reported to the rest of the Empire as a victory, let's face facts. That was nothing short of them bending us over and having their way with us. And now I want every one of you to tell me why we got our butts handed to us, and what conclusions we can take from that painful lesson. Nicole, you start."

  She straightened up even more and said loudly and clearly, looking past me somewhere ahead of her:

  "I have no idea, Your Highness! It's beyond my level of competency!"

  I slowly walked around my unmoving subject before stopping directly in front of her and repeating, softer this time:

  "First thing, at ease, lieutenant. Second, when speaking with someone, make eye contact. It's hard to have a conversation with your ear or the back of your head. Well, and third: although you are a junior staff officer, if you really have no idea about the reason for the battle going the way it did, you aren't in the right line of work. So, Nicole, let me have it. Don't be shy – tell me your conclusions."

  She blushed even harder, stumbling a bit, then spoke out loudly, eyes on me:

  "My Prince, when the battle was beginning, an unconscionable lack of coordination was allowed to take hold on our side. Our second most important gun, the heavy cruiser Gentleman of the Night, only appeared on the battlefield after our first heavy cruiser, Flamboyant, had already essentially been taken out of commission. Thus, at no point did the alien ship have to fight against our two main ships at once."

  "Excellent observation, lieutenant. You've proven that it's not for nothing that you work at my headquarters. In an hour, I want you to make me a detailed report on the timing of our ships' arrivals to battle position and a conclusion about why this inconformity in action between our two main ships occurred. So, who wants to talk next?"

  After a few seconds of silence, a massive, chubby man with space corporal badges stepped forward.

  "My Prince, allow me to speak. What I have to say may come across as direct and rude, but if panic hadn't taken hold, leading to six ships leaving the battle immediately in the second phase, the outcome would have been better."

  "What was the reason for the panic?" I wondered, turning toward the corporal.

  "The main reason was the heavy losses sustained in the first phase of the battle. Our fleet lost a third of its ships in four minutes," he said quietly, his eyes pointed down. "The second reason was your Highness's orders. They were not always appropriate to the situation at hand in the battle, and were nowhere near the caliber required to create the ideal conditions for maintaining discipline."

  Everyone gasped at the space corporal's insolence. It looked like the staff officers gathered there were expecting me to rain down wrath. But, instead, I stated loudly and clearly:

  "Popori de Cacha, there’s no need to kill this person! It took a lot of bravery to say what he said, and he said exactly the words I was hoping to hear."

  As I had assumed, the commander of my bodyguards appeared directly behind the space corporal. The chameleon pulled his blade away and stepped aside, returning to invisibility as he went. God damn is that effective! The staff officers, already walking a tightrope in the Prince's presence before, started breathing in turn. When I spoke, everyone paid an inordinate amount of attention.

  "Getting offended by the truth would be a dumb move on my part. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I too have never before come face to face with an enemy so fierce, so I lost heart, like many of you. However, I have already taken this new information into account and come to my own conclusions, and I promise everyone present that it will never happen again. Now I want the same from each of you. It is very important to me that you understand that this hard lesson was not in vain. I await your comments, advice and observations on the battle. You can relax. There will not be any punitive measures from me today.”

  At first they were shy, but the officers gradually gathered more courage and started speaking out. The last to speak was the head of the staff officers, the gray-haired Admiral Kiro Sabuto, who said:

  "My Prince, the error was due to our initial underestimation of the enemy. We should have joined up with the Kingdom of Fastel's fleet initially, before attacking the alien ship. We didn't want to share the victor's laurels and we paid dearly for that."

  "That is partially true, my friend. But I promise everyone present that our fleet would have been capable of taking out the extraterrestrials' ship if it hadn’t been for our numerous errors. Our frigates were just screwing around. Instead of destroying the many drones to reduce the amount of damage the enemy could do, they tried to do a job they weren't made for and, for some reason, shot at the main target. The light cruisers didn't go down from just one hit. No one was stopping them from fleeing the battle. There were about twenty seconds between shots from the enemy ship. So why then were our cruisers dropping like flies?! It’s plain to see that it was due to weak preparation of our captains and commanders. They clearly haven’t learned to react quickly to changing combat conditions. The heavy cruisers took a long time to be destroyed. Their energy shields held out for a few strikes. Note that some frigates and destroyers tried to support the cruisers' shields. If these “healers” had not remained occupied until that moment and
those that remained would not have died under attack from enemy drones, we would have been able to save the cruisers. Now, pay attention to what happens at 3:43. Don't tell me no one noticed something off?”

  The hologram operator rolled the section of the battle clip a few times, as I ordered. The officers present remained silent. Finally, Nicole shyly postulated:

  "It didn't shoot?"

  "That's right! The alien ship didn't shoot, despite the fact that it had had enough time to recharge its cannon. Analyze all recordings and find me the reason why the enemy was not able to shoot. If we can figure that out, we'll have the key to defeating the aliens..."

  Standing change. Your relationship with the Empire Military Faction has improved.

  Present Empire Military faction opinion of you: -7 (mistrusting)

  The message arrived unexpectedly and threw me off a bit. I stumbled through the middle of the phrase. I wonder who here did that? It was impossible to figure out. There were too many players around me. But, in any case, it was pleasant news: my speech had been judged worthy by those present.

  "My Prince, what are our further instructions?" inquired Admiral Sabuto.

  I noticed that the officers were listening avidly, and trying to speak confidently and clearly.

  "You all realize that we need repair and reinforcements. The Kingdom of Fastel's fleet helped us in that battle, but it will soon be going back home, and we will not be going with them. We are going to the Himora station, where we'll be sending our ships in for repair, undergoing several training sessions and expecting reinforcements."

  "Will more ships be joining our fleet soon?" asked the admiral, not hiding his joy at the good news.

  "They absolutely will, admiral. The frigate Pyro-14 has just departed with the mission of bringing us reinforcements. And I am preparing first thing to deal with the specific problem of reinforcing our battered fleet. So, give our whole fleet the order to prepare for departure. In exactly 10 minutes, we'll be leaving through the warp jump to Himora.”