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

by Lawrence P White

  “In a moment. My Rider will help once the scree stops. I can deal with the pain, but it confuses the AI running the net. Guess they’re not programmed for such.”

  He finished wrapping Peabody, then reached into his kit and removed a container of pills. “Take these,” he ordered, handing the container to her. “Take as many as you want. They won’t prevent you from functioning.”

  “No, I’ll wait for my Rider to take care of me. Take them yourself, and give me those bandages. It’s your turn,” she announced.

  “No,” he replied grimly. “We lose everything if we lose the ship. You have to get back to work. I’ll do what I can for the rest of the crew here, then patch us both up while you’re plugged in.”

  She nodded as she reached for the helmet. “I’ll do a better job of it this time,” she said. “I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  “That’s how we all learn,” he said with a tight grimace. “And don’t worry about me, I’m not as bad as I look.”

  She entered the net and tried to contact the frigate, but no one responded. They were probably fighting just as intensely, she decided.

  She studied the situation on the cruiser through the net’s sensors. Nearly all the remaining Chessori were bottled up in Communications and Crew Accommodations, and the fighting was intense. She detailed a few men to take care of Chessori stragglers, then concentrated on the main fighting.

  She queried the net, having come to the same conclusion Mike had reached during the battle aboard the cruiser orbiting Brodor. Was it possible to vent certain compartments to space? It was, but doing so would kill any friendly Empire crewmen in the affected area. She decided things were not yet bad enough to take that desperate step.

  Her men secured the Communications section an hour later. Despite their exhaustion, she detailed one squad to hold Communications and sent the others to reinforce the squads in Crew Accommodations.

  The fighting continued for hours. The Terran commander eventually called an all clear, but the call was unnecessary. The scree had ceased, and for only one reason. Reba collapsed into her seat, exhausted.

  The survivors from the original crew revived after the scree stopped, and as they did so, they resumed control of the ship. The captain and most of the bridge crew were dead, though the squadron commander had only minor injuries. Reba knew there were Rebel sympathizers on board, but the squadron commander would have to sort them out in his own way. At least they had succeeded in removing the Chessori, of whom there were no survivors. The frigate had come back on line several hours earlier. All the Chessori there had been killed, as well.

  As damage reports came in to the bridge, her officers were aghast. The Chessori had killed unarmed men wherever they were encountered, decimating the Empire ranks. Her Raiders had suffered as well, losing 20 men with another 35 wounded, losses totaling 55%. It had not been a good day. Sick bay was operating at a capacity it had never been designed for.

  Results from the other two battle groups were tight beamed to Reba; they had experienced much the same. The ships had been secured, but some 15% of their crewmembers had been killed, and another 30% wounded. Reba reported all this to Korban over the tightbeam communicator.

  “Can you continue with your mission?” he asked, deep concern evident in his eyes.

  “We’re decimated, and the crews of your ships are decimated. We’ll have to change the plan. I need fresh replacements from the ground to take the rest of the squadrons.”

  “Hold your positions. You can’t return here at the moment. There are some new developments. I’ll get back to you.”

  Korban called Chandrajuski. “The operation was a success, but there are some problems. We’re not able to deal with the far squadrons at the moment. Do you have resources that I’m not aware of?”

  “If you can hold the planet, I’ll take care of things out here.”

  Korban’s eyebrows rose. “You can do that?”

  “I can, but I can’t take the planet, and that’s the key. Can you?”

  “Without your presence, I’d be at the end of my holding game, but now . . . yes, sir. Definitely. We need to coordinate our activities.”

  “That will be difficult. Tight beams are not completely secure, and I expect there will be leaks from your staff. I need at least a week. Two weeks would be better.”

  “I’ll give you a week, but I can’t promise more. Discovery of the missing Chessori crew members is going to be the catalyst. I’ll keep that quiet as long as I can. Don’t forget that Rebel reinforcements are on the way, and I don’t know their make-up or timing.”

  “Then we both have our assignments, my friend. Alert your squadrons out here to accept visitors, friends of mine. Those visitors are to be added to a special list, increasing the number from three to four. Understood?”

  A grin split Korban’s face. “I wish I knew what you had in mind. Consider it done. Should I hold Reba in reserve?”

  “No. If my plan fails, she will not have access.”

  Chandrajuski put his plan into effect immediately while Reba and the three squadrons delayed their return to Orion III. Two more of Chandrajuski’s squadrons emerged from hyper, and a week later all three of Korban’s outlying squadrons accepted a visitor, in each case dropped off by a single fighter that departed immediately. None of this was out of the ordinary.

  Each of the visitors was a senior Terran pilot from one of Chandrajuski’s cruisers, and each was a volunteer. Aboard Zygtta’s cruiser, Chandrajuski accompanied the visitor. When the door closed behind them in Zygtta’s private office, Chandrajuski introduced Commander Bill Hardesty.

  “What’s his purpose here, sir?” Zygtta asked Chandrajuski.

  “Let him explain. It’s him you will have to trust.”

  Zygtta’s eyes settled on Hardesty. “Go ahead, Commander.”

  “Do you understand the nature of the Chessori threat, sir?”

  “I do, though I’ve never experienced this mind weapon of theirs.”

  “I’m qualified to fly this ship, and I am one of a very few who are immune to this mind weapon, sir.”

  Zygtta sat back, perplexed at this sudden revelation. His gaze went to Chandrajuski. “I was told no one was immune.”

  “A means has been discovered to counter it, but the process is, so far, limited. It does not work for most, and its existence is an Imperial Secret, Admiral.”

  “So limited that you send only one?” He turned back to Hardesty. “You can’t possibly clear the Chessori from my squadron by yourself.”

  “Actually, with your cooperation, I can. A major battle is shaping up out here, and the governor knows it. You’re going to tell your Chessori crewmembers that you’ve received orders from the governor that they will play a major part in that battle. Without explaining why, you’re going to tell them that he’s ordered them to be given access to certain information about the ships that was previously withheld.”

  “What information would that be?”

  “I don’t know, sir, but whatever it is, it’s going to require all of them to attend a briefing. All of them at the same time and in the same room. The room should be as close to the hull as it can be, and I have to be able to lock it from the bridge.”

  Zygtta stared at him as pieces of the plan fell into place in his mind. Hardesty saw in the Gamordian’s eyes when he reached understanding.

  “You’re going to hole my ship?” he shouted.

  “Only a small hole, sir. I’ll make sure the shields are down so there won’t be any collateral damage.”

  “He’s going to hole my ship?” Zygtta said, turning to Chandrajuski.

  “Consider the alternative.”

  Zygtta stepped away, his long legs moving delicately as he rounded the table and approached them. “There must be a better way. We can coerce them into the room and just leave them there, let them starve.”

  Hardesty rose to face Zygtta. “We can, sir, and I’m willing. By all reports, the scree is pretty bad. I’ll nev
er know since I can’t feel it, but you will. How long will it take them to die? A week? Two weeks? A month?”

  Zygtta’s fists clenched. “How long can they keep it up? I don’t want my ship holed.”

  “I don’t know the answer to that, sir, but if one gets tired, I would imagine it could be passed to another.”

  “We could hold the briefing in a hangar bay. You could evacuate it into space.”

  “Do you think they’d fall for it? Do not underestimate your opponent, Admiral, and don’t forget – I’ll be the only one functioning when this scree starts up. If any Chessori escape, they’ll eventually breach the bridge. They’ll have the ship if they do. We only have one chance to do this right.”

  Zygtta turned his long neck toward Chandrajuski. “You should have sent more.”

  “In time there will be more. As it is, his presence here has significantly reduced the effectiveness of my own squadron. Pilots immune to the scree are in very short supply at the moment. My squadron commander is doubling as a pilot until he returns.”

  “You’re not immune?”

  “I’m not. The process doesn’t work for Gamordians.”

  “Will it ever?”

  “No.”

  Zygtta stared at him for a time. “There’s a lot you’re not telling me, sir.”

  “But it’s a good plan. If we can get all the Chessori into one place, you’ll have your squadron back, and you can disable the paragraph 13 program. You’ll have a small hole in your ship, but that only restricts you from entering atmosphere. You’ll be completely battle ready, which is more than you can say at the moment. In the meantime, you need to add Commander Hardesty to the list of who must be on the net.”

  The wise, old eyes of two Gamordians blinked slowly as they stared at each other. “You ask too much, sir. I would ask proof that what you say is true.”

  “These are terrible times, but I act in the name of the Queen. All of us do. We’re going to give Struthers a black eye, a big black eye, here in Orion Sector, and Orion Sector is just the beginning. I have experienced the scree, and it is very, very bad. The proof I offer you is that I am willing to remain aboard your ship during the operation.”

  “You would do that?”

  “I will. Let’s contact the other two squadrons. They, too, will have doubts. We’ll have to be discrete, but we’ll let them know of my commitment to the success of this operation.”

  Zygtta opened his mouth to display many, many small teeth, and he and Chandrajuski batted fists together.

  The same plan went into effect for all three squadrons, all scheduling the briefing to take place at the same time. Just prior to the briefing, squadron commanders ordered their attached frigates to close in on them. Though strange, the order was obeyed, and when the scree sounded, all ships of the squadron were affected.

  Hours later, a frigate piloted by a Terran approached each cruiser, and a gunner surgically blasted through the tough skin of the cruiser. The scree ceased immediately, and Chandrajuski’s frigate pulled away quickly before it came under friendly fire.

  There was no need for quickness. After hours of suffering the scree, the crews needed long minutes to come to their senses.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Korban was tight-lipped when Reba, Val, Waverly, and the three squadron commanders briefed him in person. The utter ruthlessness of the Chessori surprised all of them, and now that they had personally experienced the scree, the true impact of the Chessori presence within the fleet hit home hard.

  Reba’s Raiders, too, were stunned. Only half of their comrades returned unscathed. Such losses could not be tolerated. They would have to revise their tactics. Chessori would henceforth be shot on sight.

  Val met with the Chessori traders he’d befriended some months earlier and moved them to Korban’s headquarters.

  “What’s going on, Val?” Forg asked.

  “I’m not at liberty to say, but I don’t think Chessori will be welcome here for long. This move is for your own protection.”

  “We’d like to assist you.”

  “Then do as I ask. I need nothing more at the moment.”

  Forg considered, his large eyes never leaving Val’s. “Is this a test?”

  “No, you’ve earned my trust. Do not betray that trust, my friend.”

  “You’re a Knight, Val. We will not betray you. Are there Chessori traders in the system?”

  “There are.”

  “They might be innocent. I would have been. Is there any way to warn them away?”

  “I won’t make any promises, but I’ll do what I can. Can you tell me which ones to warn?”

  “Just warn all of them that Chessori are no longer welcome here. True traders will leave, or at least remain out-system until things are settled.”

  * * * * *

  Two days later, Korban received a summons from the Sector Governor, Sikes. Was this the call he had been dreading? He wasn’t ready to wrest control of the sector from Sikes yet.

  He notified Chandrajuski, then delayed for a time while Colonel Waverly positioned his forces. When he answered the summons, it was uneasily, knowing he walked into a den of Rebel loyalists. He was accompanied by Reba, who had undergone treatment for her wounded lower leg but still limped noticeably, his adjutant, and three Terran soldiers. Waverly stationed a number of squads inside Korban’s headquarters and posted snipers on rooftops between his headquarters and the governor’s palace. Others were detailed to stroll unobtrusively in the vicinity of the governor’s palace, while the bulk of the men were held in reserve at various other locations.

  Korban and his small group entered the governor’s mansion amidst hostile stares and the presence of many Chessori. Reba’s three sergeants, survivors of the battle on the cruiser, were not invited into Sikes’ office. They remained in his outer office where they stationed themselves well away from each other and remained at the ready.

  Inside the office, two Chessori stood behind the governor’s desk. Sikes looked angry but confident.

  “My Chessori friends tell me they are unable to communicate with their friends aboard your ships, Admiral.”

  “I’m not surprised. They all left. Have your Chessori friends any news of them?”

  “Only that they are not aboard the ships, Admiral,” replied the Chessori standing to Sikes’ left. “Where have you sent them?”

  “I don’t know where they are. They all decided to leave at the same time, and my commanders were more than willing to let them.”

  “You lie!” exclaimed the Chessori.

  “Be careful of whom you call a liar,” Korban replied. “You are guests here, or had you forgotten?”

  “Enough!” Sikes roared. “Where are they, Admiral?”

  “Gone,” Korban replied angrily. “It doesn’t matter where.” He peered hard at the two Chessori. “I find it interesting that you two know no more about them than the governor. It tells me that the range of your telepathic communications ability is limited. Now,” he said, turning back to the governor, “as military commander of this Sector, I declare these and all Chessori to be enemies of the Empire. They’re under arrest.”

  “You don’t have the authority, Admiral. These are political appointees subject only to me.”

  “You’re wrong, Governor,” Korban shot back. “Worse, you’re stupid. These Chessori plan to allow your rule only as long as it pleases them. You’re playing right into their hands.”

  “You’re relieved, Admiral,” Sikes stated calmly, rising to his feet.

  “I do not recognize your authority to relieve me, Governor,” Korban replied evenly. In a softer tone he added, “Are you ready to make your move then?”

  “You’ve forced my hand. Reinforcements from Struthers will enter the system within the next few days, so my hand is strong. Hand over your weapons, all of you,” he demanded.

  “Sorry, Governor. You’ve forced my hand, as well.” Korban reached for his blaster, as did Reba and the adjutant. The scree came immed
iately. Reba fell to the floor as Celine’s pain filled her leg, but she was up quickly and fired once at each Chessori. She didn’t miss. The governor, Korban, and the adjutant were all down. The scree stopped when the two Chessori died, but it resumed moments later. Reba heard blasters firing from the other side of the door.

  She limped to the door and pulled it open, instantly dropping to the floor, her blaster fanning the room. No one stood except her Raiders and one Rebel lurching around in agony. Sergeant Timms yelled, “We’re secure in here. You?”

  “Secure!” she shouted. “Check the next room. I’m calling for reinforcements.”

  She hurried back into the room to make certain the Chessori were truly dead. They were. She spoke into her communicator, calling Colonel Waverly. “We’re in the back of the mansion and trapped. We counted at least thirty Chessori on the way in. There might be others we didn’t see.”

  “The scree has been felt here at Korban’s headquarters, as well. We’re securing the building and will work our way toward the mansion,” he responded calmly. “It might take a while to reach you. It’s a mess outside. Everyone’s down, civilians included.”

  “Shoot any Chessori on sight,” she advised. “We’re going to fight our way out. Tell your men we’re on the move.”

  “Secure all Rebels you encounter. We don’t want to have to start fighting all over again when the scree stops,” Waverly reminded her.

  “Understood.”

  They had come prepared, but not necessarily prepared enough. She didn’t have handcuffs enough to go around, so she stunned everyone not already dead except the admiral and his adjutant. When she realized that the ones she stunned stopped writhing in pain, she stunned Korban and his adjutant, as well, hoping it offered some relief from the scree. She dragged them into the next room, but her three sergeants had moved well down the central corridor, clearing rooms as they went.

  She caught up to them just as they approached a large foyer area where several corridors and stairways merged. This area would be a challenge: Sergeant Timms didn’t have enough men to properly clear an area this big.