Knights of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book Two)

by Lawrence P White

  Dgoffs and Washburn entered the governor’s office, leaving the other two team members outside the office ostensibly studying the Chessori recruits as if they were considering them for training. The governor sat at his desk, and one Chessori stood to the side of the room. Dgoffs closed the door and turned to the governor, a blaster in his hand.

  “We can do this peacefully, or we can do it the hard way,” he said. The scree sounded immediately, and Dgoffs and the governor fell to the floor. So, too, did the Chessori, killed by Washburn. Firing erupted from the other room, and he immediately stepped from the office to add his blaster to the carnage. All the Chessori fell without a single shot being fired in return, so quickly had the Protectors reacted.

  The moment the Great Cats outside felt the scree, two raced into the building while one remained outside. The scree was still sounding when Washburn and the cats met up. They held a quick conference and split up the team. Two cats would clear the upper floors of the building while the Terrans cleared the main floor. The governor was shackled, then Washburn moved out with his team, stunning everyone they encountered.

  When they reached the front of the building, the third Great Cat was pinned down by a heavy weapon on the left corner. Washburn directed two of his men to take the Chessori gunners from the rear. He went right to cover the right side of the building. Borg had responsibility for covering the rear as he cleared the upper floors.

  Just as Washburn started moving to the right, a squad of Chessori came around the corner and were as surprised to see him as he was to see them. Everyone started shooting. Washburn took out two Chessori, then he was blown backwards by a blaster shot to his chest. Sergeant Jacobs, assigned to take out the big gun, turned back and took out the rest of the Chessori squad, leaving his partner to take care of the big gun.

  Jacobs checked around the corner to make sure no more Chessori were coming, then returned to Washburn who was just stirring. Jacobs crouched down beside him, examining the ruined vest that still smoldered beneath Washburn’s uniform. Their eyes met, but no words were needed.

  Jacobs couldn’t resist. “It does make you look fat, sir.”

  * * * * *

  At the port, three Terrans manned Resolve’s four batteries. The moment the scree sounded, O’Brien lifted Resolve to a couple of hundred feet while Stven and M’Sada shrieked horribly. George cut them out as the gunners opened up, and three traders, all powered down, disintegrated in moments. Resolve’s guns traversed to the last trader, but the gunners held their fire.

  O’Brien sent out a recorded message from Admiral Dgoffs demanding that the trader stand down and cease with the scree. O’Brien gave them time to decide, and in the end, the trader complied.

  At the prison, the team moved in on the building the moment they felt the scree. They raced through the building stunning the writhing forms of soldiers on the floor and quickly reached the heavy door to the cell block. As expected, the door was locked. Two Terrans set detonation cord around the door, stepped back and blew it, then the cats rushed into the long hallway lined with cells. Two Chessori were ready and waiting, but the blast had stunned them and their reactions were slow. That tiny interval was more than the Great Cats needed. The two Chessori fell instantly. With their demise, the scree ended.

  Imperial Marines moved in on both ground locations quickly, taking responsibility for sorting out the governor’s men from those loyal to Dgoffs.

  At the port, the traders were ordered to clear their ship. When they emerged, they were escorted to a holding station by a team of Great Cats and locked up. The cats returned to the port, leaving one Terran Protector outside the cell block as a guard.

  Washburn had been very specific about this guard. He was not to be seen by the Chessori. No Chessori who saw a Terran would be permitted to live.

  All six Great Cats boarded the frigate and spent two days familiarizing themselves with the ship while the Chessori military ships out in space maneuvered into an attack group. As the Chessori approached the planet, Washburn came out of the restoration tank, his ribs partially healed, and Krys took his place in the tank for whatever protection it would provide her. Resolve and the frigate held formation as the Chessori approached.

  Suddenly, a Chessori face appeared on the communicators of both ships. “I have been denied landing clearance, and you appear to be threatening me,” he said. “I demand unrestricted passage to the surface.”

  Borg spoke for both ships. “Chessori are no longer welcome here. Leave.”

  “I am only trying to contact my legitimately invited partners on the planet. They are not responding to my calls.”

  “Nor will they. They’re dead. Expect the same treatment if you continue inbound.”

  The Chessori stared at him for a time. “Impossible. They are not dead.”

  “Believe me, Chessori. I can and I will kill any of you that fail to leave immediately.”

  “That’s an act of war.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  The Chessori broke the connection. Soon after, the six ships split up into two groups of three. The maneuver was not unexpected, and Borg set up an intercept with one group while O’Brien headed for the other.

  “Remember,” Stven cautioned just before leaving the net, “Borg gets first shot. The cats won’t be as efficient as you, and they’ll benefit from the surprise.”

  “Yes, Mother,” O’Brien replied, as he and George adjusted course and speed. “But I’m going to get into position. I don’t want any of these guys getting away.”

  “Just survive, my friend, and make it as quick as you can. Some of us will be suffering.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The scree started up long before the ships reached firing range. O’Brien was sorely tempted to open up when the Chessori came within the extended range of his modified weapons, but he did not. The Chessori continued closing until Borg’s frigate and O’Brien’s Resolve were surrounded.

  Both groups of Chessori opened up at the same time, and Borg responded immediately. Washburn wasn’t far behind. Each Chessori was pre-targeted, and one of them was targeted by two batteries. It’s shields failed quickly, and it disappeared in a flash of light moments later. Resolve’s shields were taking a beating from the other two Chessori, but the Chessori weapons appeared weak, and the shields held.

  Resolve and the two remaining Chessori started dancing all over the place in an attempt to avoid taking hits, but they could only maneuver so much without their own gunners losing their targets. Within a minute of the first Chessori dying, the second died. The third Chessori tried to flee, but O’Brien clung to its tail. It lived for only another couple of minutes.

  When O’Brien checked on Borg, there were two Chessori left, both of them fleeing. Borg could only follow one. O’Brien checked briefly with George to see if an intercept could be set up on the second, but it was far out of range, and that range was increasing quickly. Any effort to follow it would be wasted. He let it go and headed towards Borg and his target. Both were bouncing all over the sky, and clearly, Borg’s fellow Protectors were having difficulty with their aim while under the scree. Long before he caught up to them, though, Borg got through the Chessori shields, and the enemy ship exploded.

  With its demise, the scree ended.

  Tarn checked on Krys and found her unconscious within the tank. There was nothing he could do but wait and let the combination of tank and Rider do their thing.

  Dgoffs came up on a shuttle and joined Borg aboard the frigate. His own sailors were back in command and horrified at their experience with the scree.

  Two days later, another Chessori appeared from hyperspace, and two others joined it the following day, all of them remaining far out on the fringes of the system. Then, they suddenly disappeared, having jumped back into hyperspace. The retreating Chessori continued outbound, headed toward its own jump point.

  Dgoffs grinned and clapped his captain on the back. “The battle for Krandt is over, gentlemen,” he announced. “We’v
e won this round.”

  Tarn visited the two senators while Krys returned to light duty on Resolve. The tank had done all it could, and it was up to her Rider, Maelia, to repair the rest of the damage. Both senators had experienced the scree for the first time, and both were horrified by its implications.

  When Tarn displayed his Knight’s credentials, both were delighted to have living proof of the Queen’s survival. Until now, the visiting senator had only had Senator Truax’s word that there was, indeed, a Queen. Tarn encouraged them to continue spreading the word among other senators, and he assured them that the results of the battle for Krandt were not due to chance. The Queen really did have the means to confront the Rebels and their Chessori partners, and she was going to win.

  The Chessori traders were marched from their cells and back to their ship where they were released. Not waiting for the rest of their cargo, they just left as quickly as they could, knowing that, for them, the Empire had shown restraint.

  Resolve waited until they were gone, then Krys and Tarn said goodbye to Dgoffs, promising him that reinforcements would be sent to help him hold the district as soon as they were available.

  As Resolve headed out, Washburn and O’Brien plopped dinner trays down beside Krys and Tarn in the crew mess. Washburn set the ruined vest on the table beside himself, the blackened depression face up. O’Brien stared alternately at the vest and at Krys.

  Washburn took a mouthful of food and chewed, his gaze on Krys. “How does it work, My Lady?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “My guys believe now. You’re going to get some requests.”

  “She’s not up to it right now,” Tarn said, brooking no argument.

  “When you are, then.”

  She nodded. “It doesn’t always work, you know. I can’t just turn it on and off.”

  She stared at him for a time, then O’Brien. “Each of the visions I’ve received has been of significant import to the war. If that’s the case here, each of you is destined to fill a meaningful role in whatever is to come.” She focused on Washburn again. “You’re not alive because of anything I did. You’re alive because of something you’re needed for in the future. I don’t know what it is.”

  He put his utensils down. “That’s a terrible burden to throw my way.”

  “I know, but you are not alone. Others carry the same burden, including me.”

  “You are a Knight, My Lady.” He reached for her hand and engulfed it in both of his huge hands. “We’ll stand beside you as long as you’ll have us.”

  She nodded. “I know you will. My crew has stood behind me and beside me and in front of me when necessary. I’m nothing without all of you. I never forget that.”

  Reba

  Chapter Twenty-one

  A full training package had been prepared by Admiral Korban’s staff for the arrival of the Terrans, Reba’s Raiders as they had taken to calling themselves, but time was short. Korban estimated he would be replaced as Sector Commander of Orion Sector within the next two or three months. He knew for a fact that the Rebel governor had sent a request for additional support to Struthers. He did not know what form that support would take, but he was certain it would come. Before it arrived, he needed to control the planet and his ships.

  Waverly organized Reba’s Raiders into ten groups of 100 men, each group considered sufficient to clear all the Chessori from one squadron. The Raiders refined their tactics under the guidance of Empire Marines using mockups of ships, and troops shuttled to and from firing ranges on the military side of the spaceport for training with live weapons, though weapons training took little time for these special operations troops from Earth.

  As soon as the first one hundred completed the training, Val, Reba, and Colonel Waverly led them on a training mission. They boarded Korban’s finest squadron, the only local squadron as yet untouched by the Chessori. There, the Terrans worked closely with the ships’ crew to hone their plan. Many revisions were made, many at the suggestion of the Terrans themselves.

  The final plan included stationing seventy Raiders aboard the cruiser and thirty aboard the frigate. The twelve fighters of the squadron would be brought aboard the cruiser and emptied of crew before the Raiders arrived, so no additional resources were required to deal with them. Heavy squadrons, those with an extra frigate, would borrow an additional thirty Raiders to deal with the second frigate.

  A trusted staff officer from Korban’s headquarters would accompany each team to each ship. The loyalty of the commanders aboard those ships was not in question – each had been handpicked by Korban himself. The senior Raider and two backups would secure and hold the bridge. Other Raiders would be assigned to Communications, Weapons, and Engineering, while the remainder sought out individual Chessori wherever they were located aboard the ship. Assistance from ships’ personnel would be extremely helpful during this process, but it could not be relied upon.

  Korban knew the makeup of his fleets and the theoretical position of each Chessori within it, though no one knew the actual dispositions of the Chessori once they had reported to their assigned ship. Individual captains would undoubtedly have moved them around for various reasons. However, the numbers were known precisely. Cruisers would have, on average, 50 Chessori, and frigates would have 20.

  Fundamental to the plan, and discussed at great length by Admiral Korban and Colonel Waverly, was whether the Chessori should be confronted and allowed to surrender. Korban wanted only to cleanse his ships, to exterminate the Chessori, then deal with other crewmember loyalties when time permitted. Val and Reba supported him, insisting that no warning be given the Chessori. Their plan was to kill all Chessori at the same moment aboard all ships in the squadron. If they failed in that effort, the Chessori would warn each other telepathically.

  Waverly and his commanders balked at killing without warning. For all they knew, the Chessori would be unarmed. They would not pull the trigger on unarmed men.

  In the end, Colonel Waverly prevailed. Since his men would be the ones doing the shooting, he just said no. Val and Reba argued with him in private, but to no avail. He held true to an unwillingness to cold-bloodedly kill unarmed beings.

  Reba was proud of him in a way, proud that her group of trained killers held to such high standards. Other than she and Val, none of them, including Admiral Korban, had yet experienced the scree, and simply describing it was not sufficient to convince. They would have to experience it for themselves.

  * * * * *

  Chandrajuski could wait not longer. He knew that time was running out for Admiral Korban on Orion III, but he had no way of communicating with the sector.

  He dispatched ten squadrons to Orion III, none of them fast ships. Since Parsons’ World was so far out beyond the Border, It would take them ten weeks to get there. He waited a month, then set out with six additional squadrons, all of them fast ships that would reach Orion III well before the ten slow squadrons.

  Four fast squadrons remained behind to protect Parsons’ World, and more were in the pipeline for completion soon, though there were only enough Terrans to man two of them. They would be held in reserve for the anticipated battle at Aldebaran I.

  The Terrans aboard all the squadrons were untested in combat, but they were battle ready and would continue refining their skills aboard their squadrons during the voyage.

  Chandrajuski’s six fast squadrons arrived at a rendezvous point one short jump from Orion III. They would wait there until joined by the slow ships. Chandrajuski took one squadron and completed the final jump to the far fringes of Orion III.

  He, M’Coda, and Trexler studied the display from the net in the tactical operations center at the heart of the cruiser and discovered seven of Korban’s squadrons within the system. Four held station near the planet, and three were spaced geometrically equidistant within the system, each about one week out from Orion III.

  Very unusual positioning, and Chandrajuski knew its purpose instantly. The three outer squadrons were there
to intercept and question inbound ships, and the three squadrons near the planet were, most likely, protection demanded by the governor. He had no way of knowing if any of these squadrons remained loyal to Korban.

  The nearest squadron headed in their direction as soon as they emerged from hyperspace. To their surprise, the initial query came from a Gamordian.

  “Admiral Zygtta here. State your intentions.”

  Chandrajuski’s squadron commander handled the call. “We’re here to request help from Admiral Korban. Since the change, several groups of smugglers have banded together, and we’re pretty sure they’re operating in your sector now, too.”

  “We’re seeing the same thing. I wish I could help, but smuggling isn’t high on our agenda right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “We’re in a defensive mode for the moment. Orders from the governor. You’re wasting your time here.”

  “Well, we’ve both got our orders. I’m supposed to meet with the governor and Korban. They might not be interested in helping, but I’m required to try.”

  The Gamordian considered. “Your squadron will have to remain here. I will send a ship for you alone. It will take you the rest of the way.”

  “Surely, you’re joking. We’re all on the same team here.”

  “Well, that’s the problem. We might not be. Certain new leaders have a long reach, my friend.”

  “You mean Struthers. I’m not getting involved in that mess, and I’m not the only one. There’s a lot of uncertainty out here. How about you?”

  “I report to Admiral Korban, and I follow his lead. We’re holding at present.”

  “Holding. An interesting choice of words.”

  The Gamordian stared at him for a time. “It might have special meaning to some.”