STAR'S HONOR (THE STAR SCOUT SAGA Book 3)

by GARY DARBY

  She turned to Stinneli. “Are you still comfortable that we can safely use their medicines? Som’al said that they stocked a limited quantity onboard to take with us. However, I don’t want to take them if we can’t use them. Better to leave them with the Sha’anay.”

  “Yes, I believe so,” Stinneli answered. “I’ve used them extensively on several of the team, and they’ve all responded well. No ill effects whatsoever. They’ll supplement what I have nicely.”

  “Good,” Bianca replied. She turned back to the group. “How’s the pilot training going? How soon can we boost out of here?”

  Granger spoke up. “I, Lia, Josh, and Hanjeh went over the flight and nav controls with two Sha’anay.

  “I think we can handle the ship though it would have been nice if we’d had a chance to do some real flying with the Sha’anay as trainers. Thankfully, their thrusters, main engine, and navigation controls are pretty similar to ours.”

  Just then, the A’Gesi seemed to rumble and shake from bow to stern. The vibrations appeared to grow in intensity and frequency.

  Bianca rose and said, “I don’t think we’re going to get in any practice runs. Lia take the helm, Josh, copilot. Stand by to take us out.”

  A Sha’anay burst into the ship. “Ki’mi Som’al says you must leave,” the Sha’anay said in rushed, clipped tones.

  “The coordinates to the moon are locked into the navigational program. The Rau’ver will fly you there, but you must do the landing.”

  “I understand,” Bianca replied.

  With that, the Sha’anay rushed from the ship and Bianca made her way forward to the mini bridge. “Seal the ship,” she instructed. “It’s time to go.”

  Seconds later, at the vessel’s front, two large arched doors crawled open. Lime-colored wisps of nebula gas flowed over and around the giant ship’s bow.

  Lia reached out to the pilot controls and muttered, “Okay, here we go—I hope.”

  The ship rose, and then crept forward until it cleared the hangar bay and the large arched doors. Once clear, Lia rotated the craft so that they could see the A’Gesi as it made a slow arc away from them.

  Giant trails of billowing dark smoke issued from the enormous Sha’anay warship. It slipped farther and farther away through the gas clouds until it was lost from sight.

  “Think they’ll make it?” Lia asked in a soft voice.

  “I don’t know,” Bianca replied. “But I do know they’ve done a great service to us, and I hope they’re repaid in kind for that.”

  Taking a deep breath, she ordered, “Pilot, set our course, and pray that we make it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Star date: 2443.080

  Aboard the INS Polaris, Orbiting Epsilon Alpha Four

  General Rosberg, Commanding General of Star Scout Command, and Admiral Stannick, Commander of StarNav Operations stood in solemn and downhearted silence on the bridge of the admiral’s flagship, the INS Polaris.

  The great gray ship, a Vegan-class Marauder, cruised at almost dead slow speed among the charred and damaged naval ships that orbited Epsilon Alpha Four.

  Blackened and torn metal, ripped bulkheads with deep gouges that spewed gasses like miniature geysers marked the majority of the once proud vessels.

  Rosberg stared through the bridge’s long vu-screen at the shattered fleet. “How bad did we get hurt, Cait?” he asked in a low voice.

  Stannick ran a hand through her short, silvery gray hair and gazed at the remnants of her fleet through tired, downcast eyes.

  Neither she nor Rosberg had slept or eaten much in the last several days, and the slight sag in their shoulders was in marked contrast to their normal confident posture.

  “Bad,” she answered in a frank tone. “We lost four top-of-the-line Marauders, six Orion-class Predators, five Mercury-class Prowlers, and eight Saturn-class Vanguards. Along with a host of auxiliary and supply ships.”

  She swept a hand across the troubling vista. “Twenty-four managed to escape, but each suffered severe to moderate damage that will take weeks to repair.”

  Shaking her head as if in disbelief, her eyes and her mind still grappled with incredulity at what she saw drifting past.

  “The Mongan energy weapons ripped some of my ships wide open,” she bitterly muttered, “sliced right through outer skin and bulkheads, tore through whole sections, just like you’d gut a fish with a filet knife.

  Gesturing with a half-hearted wave toward the screen, she went on. “If the Mongans hadn’t broken off the attack, I’m not sure if even half of what you see out there would have gotten away.

  “I’ve got five ships without hyperdrive that just cleared the Helix and are making their run here under sublight.

  “We’ve got two auxiliary repair vessels outbound to rendezvous with them and see what they can do to patch up their h-drives. But at last report it doesn’t look like anything less than a full-up repair facility will return them to duty anytime soon.”

  A scowl deepened her mouth’s worry lines and her eyes became rock hard. “At last count I’ve got one thousand, nine hundred and three sailors known dead, three times that many injured.”

  Taking in a deep breath she said, “And the medicos are telling me that a good many of them won’t survive another day or so.”

  Her voice was almost a growl as she went on. “Plus, I’ve got two Prowlers unaccounted for, with a crew total of just over four hundred. We’re listing them as missing in action.”

  Rosberg turned to her with a questioning expression. “What do you mean? Were they completely destroyed, without a trace?”

  Stannick shook her head firmly. “The Earhart and Lindbergh were last seen in a joint attack on an alien craft. They broke it off and made a run for the nebula.”

  Pressing her lips tight, she muttered, “They never came out. I’ve got a ship looking for them, but it’s like they went into a dark hole and didn’t reappear.”

  Rosberg remained mute for several seconds, digesting the news before he said, “Cait, you know we don’t have the firepower that you possess, but, if there’s anything we can do to help, don’t hesitate to ask. Especially regarding your missing.”

  “Thanks, Ty, I appreciate that,” Stannick replied and questioned, “What about your folks? Did they hit you hard?”

  Rosberg pursed his own lips tight together. The Mongan fleet’s fury hadn’t confined itself just to the Imperium vessels in orbit.

  They had pinpointed certain places of the planet, raking those spots with unmerciful, powerful bursts of phased energy. Areas where he’d had scout teams along with SciCorps personnel.

  “I have forty-one scouts confirmed dead,” he said. “Over two hundred injured and thirty-nine missing.”

  He turned to look out through the forward observation windows before shaking his head. “Among the missing are my chief of staff, Colonel Tuul, as well as Henrik Utlander’s daughter, and Planetary Governor Wek’s son.”

  Stannick’s mouth sagged open and she said, “Henrik Utlander as in General Assembly President Utlander?”

  Rosberg nodded. “One and the same. We tried to keep her duty status close hold, but once the casualty list is posted that wasn’t possible.”

  “Has he contacted you?”

  “I contacted him. Just after she was reported missing. I sent you the report since you lost people on the Argos, too.”

  She furrowed her eyebrows, and her eyes held a questioning gaze. “I read it, made for some fascinating reading. Wasn’t she was on the same team as Thorne? And wasn’t his report the basis for your declaration of First Contact?”

  “Yes,” Rosberg replied. “She’s credited, like the rest, with finding and establishing First Contact with Alpha Prime, though that’s little comfort to President Utlander.”

  “So she’s not confirmed dead, merely missing?” Stannick asked.

  Rosberg nodded while saying, “Right, and as you might suspect, President Utlander is ‘urging’ me to use all possible resources and mean
s to find his daughter, if she’s still alive.”

  He turned to her and let out a long breath. “But there’s more to the story than what’s in that brief I sent over, Cait, and that’s why I came to see you personally.”

  With an impassive, expressionless face that belied the heated tone of his voice, he laid out the facts surrounding Romerand’s treachery and the fact that the Faction had infiltrated the Star Scout organization.

  He finished by saying, “I have no excuses to offer, just a warning. If it could happen to me, it could happen to you, too.”

  The admiral frowned, turned away, and paced close to the vu-screen that displayed her battle-torn fleet. She nodded to herself before responding to Rosberg.

  “I appreciate you sharing that, Ty. It settles a question I’ve had in my mind regarding a conversation that I had with your former chief of staff.”

  She went on to detail the discussion she had had with Romerand when the Alpha Prime message from the Argos arrived at Nav headquarters. “He played us both, Ty,” she said. “And because I believed him, I didn’t send out that task force I was putting together.”

  Shrugging, her own dark scowl matched Rosberg’s. “Who knows? We might have been able to save those scouts of yours and the crew of the Argos.”

  She turned again to stare out at her devastated fleet. “And maybe,” she said in a small voice while gesturing at the horrific scene, “it might have even prevented that.”

  Both stayed silent, contemplating the might-have-been instead of what was before them.

  Rosberg cleared his throat and said, “I received a message from Councilor Krause. She wants me to come back and meet with the full High Council—try and explain what happened Out Here.”

  “Me too,” Stannick replied. “I’ve also heard she’s done the same to General Tabosa of the Space Marines and Chief Scientist Ming of SciCorps.

  “Wants them to meet with the council to give an accounting as well; though I’m not sure how the council is going to massage this into political bites that the general public will swallow.”

  “Do you know what those two lost in the battle?”

  Stannick nodded in answer. “Tabosa had three fleet marine transports in orbit when the Mongans attacked. They took out all three in the first pass. Almost seven hundred fleet marines.

  “Ming lost twenty-four on the ground and another fifty when the Mongans attacked her interstellar survey ships. Fortunately, both ships escaped, and they’re making their way to the SciCorps station on Gramson Six.”

  Rosberg ran a hand over his brow and stared at the orbiting Nav ships for a few seconds before saying, “Well, I’m not going back Earthside until I get a few things cleaned up here first, and that may take a while.

  “Councilor Krause may be the presiding High Councilor, but, for now, she’s just going to have make do with my n-space reports.”

  Stannick turned her head sideways to Rosberg. “What? And deprive her of the pleasure of slicing and dicing you into sour-Krause? She’s not going to like that.”

  “No doubt,” Rosberg grunted. He peered sideways at Stannick and asked, “You going back?”

  “Of course not,” she snorted. “You’d think I’d leave my sailors at a time like this? The council be hanged; I’ve got more important things to do than to trot out some dog and pony show just for the High Council’s sake.”

  She looked at Rosberg with grave eyes. “What’s your next move, Ty?”

  Rosberg waved a hand toward the forward window. “For now, I’ve withdrawn all my teams from anywhere near the nebula. They’ll regroup here and wait for further orders.

  “I’ve alerted all my sector commanders to the situation, and ordered them to take precautionary measures.

  “I just got off the horn with sector eleven’s commander. Since the Helix is in her area of operations, and the Mongans just might attack again, we’re going to suspend all planetside operations.

  “She’ll reorganize her entire outfit into battalion- and brigade-size units and pull them back for the time being into a defensive posture.”

  He worked his mouth as if he’d bitten into a Hosarian Tart Apple. “I’ve also instructed her to be ready for a sector-wide evac order if it becomes necessary.”

  Nodding her approval, Stannick said, “A prudent move. You have enough available transports available to pull everyone out?”

  “Yeah, but just barely. I’ve had to do some quick reshuffling of assets, pulled some stuff from other sectors, but it should be enough.”

  “If you need help, just ask,” Stannick offered. “You know I’ll do what I can.”

  He gave her an appreciative smile. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He shifted in his stance as if he were uncomfortable sharing his next thoughts with her. “I can’t believe that I’ve got to consider withdrawing from the entire sector, and yet, if I don’t, I’m afraid that what happened in the Helix will happen elsewhere. We simply don’t have the ability to respond to that level of attack.”

  He grunted and said, “You know, before this, I was spending sleepless nights worrying about what the Faction was doing to us. But, compared to this, facing the Faction is like choosing between fighting a mad dog and a raging bull elephant.”

  Stannick didn’t reply for several seconds before placing her hands on the bridge rail and leaning forward.

  She let her head droop for an instant before saying, “I know, Ty. I have to make some difficult decisions, too. This whole situation has turned our tactical doctrine upside down. We’re going to have to relearn how to fight interstellar battles.”

  Her countenance darkened as she said, “If the truth be known, we probably couldn’t have stopped the Mongans with ten times the fleet we had there. We were quicker, more nimble, but their shipboard weapons are monsters compared to what we’ve got.”

  She stared down at the deck before saying grimly, “If they want to make a run into the inner worlds or even Terra herself, I’m not sure we’d have enough to stop them.”

  Rosberg stared at Stannick; his mouth agape from her frank admission. He muttered, “It’s that bad?”

  “It’s that bad,” she answered.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she said in a bleak tone, “We may have to make an appalling choice; namely to protect the inner homeworlds while sacrificing the outlying sectors.”

  Rosberg stayed silent as if he couldn’t quite believe or accept her statement. He ran a hand over his chiseled chin as he said, “I realize we took a beating in the Helix, but all that from just one battle?”

  She gestured toward Epsilon Four, the blue and green planet that formed the backdrop against which the damaged fleet floated. “It’s not just what we lost,” she explained.

  “To counter their fleet I’m going to have to pull every Marauder, Predator, Prowler, and Vanguard I can get my hands on from all the other sectors just to set up a protective ring around the inner Imperium worlds.

  “I can’t go ship-on-ship with the Mongans, I’ve got to form heavy task forces and place them at strategic points.

  “That leaves the outlying sectors without any Nav assets and that translates into no slaver interdiction missions, no peace patrols along the Combine boundary.”

  Her gaze was piercing, hard as she turned to him. “And no strikes against Faction rat holes.”

  Shaking her head, she pressed her lips tight in frustration. “And just when SOG was starting to give us some good, solid, actionable information against those scum, too. However, the Mongans chewed us up and spat us out, and I can’t ignore that, because they’re the real threat now.

  She gave him an appraising look. “If the Mongans pop up in another sector . . .” she stopped, her unfinished thought hanging dark and solemn between them.

  The Mongans could mount an unstoppable invasion of the Imperium, slice through the very heart of human civilization.

  Moreover, there might not be any help for those caught in any Mongan attack.

  Ros
berg took a few steps forward when a scout transport came into view. Its charred sides looked like someone had taken a piece of charcoal and blackened its outer hull. One whole section of ripped plating almost curled in on itself.

  He shook his head at the sight before asking, “Do you know what Tabosa and Ming are going to do?”

  Stannick folded her arms across her chest and gave a little nod. “Tabosa has six regimental marine transports inbound. They’ll stay on station here, just in case the High Council orders a general attack back into the Helix.”

  She scowled while saying, “Ming has made it perfectly clear that she’s not sending another SciCorp asset into the Helix without ironclad assurances that we can prevent another attack.”

  “In other words, she’s sitting this one out until the coast is clear,” Rosberg remarked in a sarcastic tone.

  “Exactly,” Stannick answered.

  Folding her arms, she lifted one side of her mouth up in a begrudging smile. “I don’t half blame her. What little armament her survey ships carry would be the equivalent of peashooters against L-guns. They wouldn’t last thirty seconds in a firefight with one of those XT brutes.”

  Rosberg rubbed a hand against his firm jaw line and said, “Have you received any specific orders regarding the fleet from the High Council?”

  “Nothing definite yet,” she replied. “I have the feeling that things are pretty chaotic and in disarray at the ‘highest levels of government’ as they say. I’m not sure anyone anticipated that humankind’s First Contact would be nothing less than an interstellar invasion.”

  Rosberg stared at the floor while his fingers pulled at his chin. “I get the same feeling,” he said reflectively. “I think this has a lot of people running scared and not thinking particularly straight.”

  Stannick let her eyes study his face for a moment before she said in a knowing tone, “I recognize that look, Ty Rosberg. You’ve got some screwball idea bouncing around in that head of yours. C’mon, spill it, what are you scheming up?”