Tree of Liberty

by Wayne Basta

  “Several direct hits,” Dar’su reported. “Reading depletion in the Tornado’s forward shields—down to 80%.”

  Solyss smiled. “Tactical, continue barrage. Helm, move us closer.”

  Moving the Gallant closer to the frigate was a calculated risk. Closer meant they had better odds of scoring hits, but it meant the same thing for the frigate. Sudden vibrations in the floor told Solyss that those hits had started.

  “Forward shields down to 85%,” Dar’su reported.

  “Reduce power to aft shield, reinforce forward shield regeneration,” Tess ordered. Solyss had given her the role of managing the ship’s systems while he concentrated on maneuvering and weapon fire.

  “Ion Squadron, come about and prepare for another strafing run from behind us,” Solyss said, giving orders to Isaxo’s squadron.

  The two big ships continued to close on each other, unleashing deadly waves of energy across the empty space in between. As the Gallant passed the frigate, they started to receive fire from the space station as well. Fortunately, due to the long distance and the need for careful aim to avoid hitting the frigate, those shots were limited.

  “Come about, full burn,” Solyss ordered. He risked putting his vulnerable aft section toward the station—with the weakened shields and then engaging the engines, it gave the station an excellent target.

  “Shield weakening, below 60%,” Dar’su reported.

  “We’re losing power to gun three,” Wes Lar, the ship’s gun chief, reported.

  Solyss registered and then pushed those updates aside. Tess would handle them. He had to figure out a way to finish off the frigate before the damage to them became severe.

  “Ion Squadron, begin strafing run and then immediately reverse and fly in pattern with us,” Solyss ordered.

  Bracketed by the Gallant and the fighters, the frigate was weakening but managing to hold its shields steady. As the fighters passed over the frigate, peppering her with a barrage of blaster shots all along her hull, Solyss unleashed another full spread from the Gallant’s guns. As soon as Ion Squadron had passed, they reversed their engines, redirecting their flight path back toward the frigate.

  The sudden combination of fire from only a single vector proved enough to penetrate the frigate’s depleted shields. Dar’su’s voice had a triumphant tone as she reported that the frigate’s forward shields were down and their main gun batteries disabled.

  Solyss allowed himself a brief smile before he turned to Tess to find out the final tally from the battle. No fight came without a cost. His mind had been focused on fighting the ship, registering only information that was relevant to that.

  “Damage report,” he asked.

  “One neutron cannon and one plasma turret disabled. Forward armor depleted in several locations, minor structural damage to the bow, hull breach in the wardroom galley. Minor damage to docking port two. Fuel reserves depleted 10%,” Tess reported.

  “Casualties?” Solyss asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

  “No fatalities,” Tess said straight off, relieving his main concern. “Dr. When reports that three crew suffered severe plasma burns when the plasma turret was disabled. Five other crew are in sickbay for various minor injuries.”

  Solyss nodded. Plasma burns were no minor injury, and those three crew would have a difficult road ahead of them. But overall, they had weathered the fight well.

  Turning away from Tess, Solyss reactivated his comm. “Ion Leader, report the status of your squadron.”

  An uncomfortably long period of static came before Isaxo finally responded, “We lost Ion Three. I’m not reading any emergency beacon. I don’t think he managed to eject.”

  After the relatively good news from Tess, this information hit Solyss like a sucker punch. The PF-56s that Ion Squadron flew weren’t top-of-the-line fighters. They had minimal shielding. Small and light, they used their low mass for their one advantage: maneuverability, with rapid acceleration. But one solid blast from the main guns of a capital ship would likely do them in.

  “Ops,” Solyss said, recovering himself, “begin scanning for an emergency beacon.”

  The bridge crew all turned their heads at his order. They would all be just as concerned as he was about a lost fighter pilot. Even with the marine contingent and pilots, the total crew aboard was less than seventy. Ion Three was Ardeth Masaque. None of the crew were faceless or nameless.

  While Dar’su scanned, Solyss couldn’t help but rethink the battle in his head. Ion Squadron had made several passes against the frigate without a scratch. It then occurred to him that the loss hadn’t occurred until he had ordered the squadron to reverse thrust and combine fire with Gallant. That had cost them their maneuverability advantage. Beyond just the abstract sense of responsibility he bore as their leader, the loss was his fault.

  “No beacon signals, sir,” Dar’su replied quietly.

  Solyss bowed his head for a moment and then straightened himself up. As much as it hurt to lose a crewmate, and as much as the feeling of guilt started to weigh on him, he knew the battle wasn’t over. The marines were still engaged in a battle over on the space station.

  Keeping his voice calm and level, Solyss ordered, “Ops, try to get me a line to Lieutenant Aru.”

  After an agonizing minute, Dar’su connected him to Asheerah, who answered him with an excited tone. “We’ve secured the central command center. We had to blow the atmosphere in several compartments on the way, so the station’s kind of a mess for now. Alliance forces are contained but not subdued. Four injuries, no fatalities.”

  Solyss grinned. Asheerah became the most vivid and alive during a fight. He loved seeing her happy. She also became quite amorous afterward. He loved that, too.

  “Acknowledged, Lieutenant,” Solyss replied. “Status of the frigate?”

  “Primary weapon systems are still offline. But it appears they managed to boost their velocity beyond escape velocity. They will clear the gravity well in ten minutes.”

  Solyss felt the desire to curse. If the frigate escaped, it could warn other Alliance facilities in the area. It would take at least another half hour, probably longer, to catch up, engage her before she could escape, and then return to the station. Asheerah claimed that the Alliance forces on the station were contained, but a lot could happen in that time.

  “Helm, bring us back to the station. Ops, let the marines know we’re coming to assist,” Solyss said, deciding.

  After issuing his order, Solyss leaned against his console. The battle had lasted barely half an hour, but he felt that it had gone on for hours. It would take more than ten minutes to get back to the station. That left them free from threats for at least a brief period.

  “Tess, you have the bridge,” Solyss said, turning and heading for the bridge’s exit.

  “Aye, XO has the bridge,” Tess replied.

  Stepping out into the corridor, Solyss leaned against the bulkhead and closed his eyes as soon as he verified he was alone. It would be improper for the crew to see the commander looking tired. He regretted his decision to ban beverages during battle stations. Coffee would have gone a long way toward easing the weariness.

  Solyss allowed himself a total of five minutes to rest his eyes before returning to the bridge. As he stepped through the door, he immediately realized that he had been gone too long. Tension filled the room—and not the tension of combat or even the anticipation of more to come. The crew was keeping their heads down, and Lieutenant Tess, standing in the void of attention, was speaking sharply into the comm microphone. “Ion Lead, you’ve been ordered to return to Gallant. You’re to immediately break off your attack.”

  As Solyss returned to his place beside Tess, Isaxo must have responded, though Solyss could not hear what he said. Tess then said, her tone laced with frustration, “Don’t engage! I say again, don’t engage!”

  Glancing down at the tactical display, Solyss saw that in the time he had been gone, Ion Squadron had left their escort position around Gall
ant and pursued the Alliance frigate, Tornado. The three remaining fighters in the squadron were buzzing the injured warship.

  At first glance, Solyss approved of Isaxo’s decision to attack the Tornado. Keeping the frigate from warning other Alliance bases about the attack here would give the people more time to either evacuate or prepare to defend themselves. Engaging the enemy was the responsibility of every officer.

  Watching the battle play itself out on the tactical display, though, Solyss saw why Tess had ordered the fighters to fall back. While the frigate’s main weapons were still offline, her point defense systems were still active. Barrages of defensive fire filled the space around the wounded warship. One sweep from a plasma beam battery gave Ion Four a glancing blow. The fragile fighter’s weak shields were stripped away, but fortunately, the pilot kept the ship intact and got out of the line of fire.

  “Ion Lead, this is Gallant Actual. Return to the ship,” Solyss ordered, keeping his voice calm and lacing it with as much authority as he could manage.

  “Solyss, these bastards killed Masaque! We can’t let them get away!” Isaxo replied, an unfamiliar edge of hatred in his voice.

  Solyss cast a glance toward Tess. She had tried to warn him that Isaxo’s insubordination would be a problem. He had ignored it, thinking it merely a personality conflict between the two of them. Now, he realized there was more to it than that.

  Keeping his voice quiet and level, Solyss said, “Sax, you’ve already disabled their engines. You don’t have the fire power to do much more to them. Their momentum is already enough to get them clear of the gravity well. There’s nothing you can do to stop them from jumping, and your ships are getting torn apart. Four’s already taken heavy damage. Don’t lose another good pilot.”

  For a long moment, no reply came. Solyss debated saying more but forced himself to remain quiet. Ordering Isaxo to turn back again would not do any good if he had already decided to ignore him. Short of sending the Gallant after them, or ordering Ion Two and Four to turn back without Isaxo, there was nothing else he could do but hope his friend listened to reason.

  Finally, the reply came. “Ion Squadron, break off and return to base.”

  Solyss let out a sigh of relief. The three remaining fighters broke off and were soon outside the weapons range of the fleeing frigate. Several minutes later, the frigate itself vanished into hyperspace.

  That was one problem out of the way. Now he just had to deal with a space station full of Alliance troops and an unknown number on the planet’s surface—all before reinforcements could arrive. And, of course, he had to decide what to do about Isaxo.

  Chapter Nine

  The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of travel for Zeric, from Sulas to Irod and then almost immediately off to Cardine. Originally, he had planned to remain on Irod and assess the remaining forces there, or maybe to accompany Saracasi on her plan to attack the Alliance forces at Dantyne, but Lei-mey had made it clear he was needed elsewhere. Zeric hadn’t argued much. The meeting with Ceta and the baby had been pretty uncomfortable. He knew only more meetings would help ease that tension, but he didn’t mind a delay before making another attempt.

  Eri’dos Ar’cher and his Durandall II had taken him and his “staff” on the two-week journey to Cardine. Up until now, he had liked pretty much every Liw’kel he had met. But the Durandall II had an unrelenting stink to it. Eri’dos took offense when he mentioned it, and they hadn’t gotten along well since.

  His “staff” consisted of Gu’od, who had elected to stay with him rather than sitting on Irod for a few months waiting for Gamaly to return, Kumus, whom he had brought with him from Sulas, and Lei-mey, acting as his political advisor. Which, to him, meant she was there to tell him where she needed him to go.

  He had tried to get Sienn’lyn from Saracasi, under the belief that when one Ni’jar was good, two were better, but he had dropped that idea at Gu’od’s urging. Taking along their resident intelligence expert, Kaars Aerinstar, had occurred to him, but he decided the man’s knowledge could be put to better use by Saracasi, at least in the short term.

  As the ship approached Cardine, Zeric went to the flight deck. There, he overheard Eri’dos yelling into the comm. Unexpectedly, Eri’dos brightened up at the sight of him. “Oh, good, you can straighten these lazy assholes out.”

  “You’re going to have to fill me in,” Zeric said, unsure whom Eri’dos was talking to. He didn’t want to get in the middle of some argument.

  “The defense cutters aren’t acknowledging the order to accompany me,” Eri’dos explained. “I sent them Saracasi’s orders, but they’re refusing to acknowledge them.”

  Zeric grumbled and moved up to the operations station. He hated BS like this, but for once, he was in a position to do something about it. Being the commander of all the Union forces had to have some advantages.

  “This is General Dustlighter. Who am I speaking to?” he said into the comm.

  After a moment, a suspicious voice said, “This is Captain Haarod. Please verify your identity.”

  “Switch to video,” Zeric grumbled.

  “Stand by.”

  One of the monitors on the control panel came to life, showing a yellow-shelled Camari. He wore a different uniform than the official Union navy ships. Instead of a fairly close-fitting dark-blue ship jumpsuit, he wore a flowing set of blue-green robes. Used to reading Camari expressions—thanks to his time with Ymp—Zeric saw surprise clearly evident on his face.

  “Now that we’ve established my identity, I’m ordering you to comply with the instructions transmitted to you moments ago by Captain Ar’cher. Your ships have been drafted into the Union navy,” Zeric said, making his tone as authoritative as he could manage. “Fail to comply, and I’ll be forced to come over there and transfer command to someone else. And I won’t be happy about it.”

  The unease the captain must have felt at being ordered to take his ship to a potential battle played right into Zeric’s hand. A potential future battle was an abstract possibility, but Zeric was here now. And he had, he hoped, a fearsome reputation.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Haarod said hesitantly. “The order was said to come from Commodore Ocaitchi, but we were under the impression that Maarkean Ocaitchi was a prisoner of the Alliance and that you were as well.”

  “I’m clearly no prisoner and never was,” Zeric grumbled. “The order comes from Saracasi Ocaitchi, currently in command of all naval forces, including you. Now make preparations to depart along with the Durandall II.”

  “Yes, sir,” Haarod replied. Zeric shut the comm off after that and turned to Eri’dos. “Let me know if he gives you any more trouble.”

  Eri’dos gave him a mischievous smile in reply. “Maybe having you along isn’t so bad after all.”

  “Your ship still stinks,” Zeric replied, though he did it with a smile this time.

  Taking the insult with a nod, Eri’dos returned to bringing the ship down through Cardine’s atmosphere. They had been forced to make a long orbit around the planet to avoid a defense battery that was still under Alliance control. The orbit gave him a chance to get a good look at Cardine, though.

  Like most habitable worlds, Cardine featured a broad selection of environments. Like his home of Terra, the planet had a fairly extensive ocean covering the largest portion of the surface. Compared to the rest of the planets in the Kreogh sector, Cardine’s ocean was the biggest—something that Zeric got a good sense of. During the orbit, they only passed over one land mass large enough to be identified as such.

  This feature was what made Cardine such an attractive planet to the Camari. Although they lived their entire lives on land, Camari were amphibious. They preferred a moist environment and were expert aquatic farmers. The smaller areas of arable land here proved to be no hindrance to a thriving population—it was third in the sector only to Ailleroc and Sulas, and then not by much.

  As the ocean gave way to a large continent, Eri’dos skimmed the coastline until they came to a
large bay that was fed by several rivers. All around the bay, signs of civilization could be seen. Buildings of glass and metal towered along the coast, some even emerging right out of the water. One area, separated from the tallest buildings and covered in lights and docking pads, was the city’s starport.

  With their destination in sight, Zeric turned away from the viewports. Only then did he notice Lei-mey standing behind him. He had no idea how long the Ronid woman had been standing there. She had been uncharacteristically quiet.

  Making no comment to her, Zeric moved past her and into the narrow corridor leading away from the flight deck. For a few seconds, he thought maybe he would make it out of there without a word, but he proved unlucky. She followed him, and once the door to the flight deck sealed behind them, she spoke. “That was a foolish action.”

  “Watching the landing?” Zeric asked, not sure what she was referring to. Knowing Lei-mey, she could mean any of a number of things he might have done.

  “Strong-arming the other ship captain. You should have let Captain Ar’cher handle it. The navy is not your concern at the moment,” Lei-mey explained, her tone like that of a schoolteacher.

  “Eri’dos is no diplomat,” Zeric said. “He might have tried once more, but then he would have given up and returned to Irod without the ships that Casi needs. It’s a long trip between here and anywhere else. If she had to send someone else, or come herself, she would have lost another month of time.”

  “But you’ve undoubtedly offended the leaders of Cardine. There’s a good chance your order will still be ignored. The only thing you’ll have accomplished is generating animosity, making our job of getting more support from Cardine that much harder,” Lei-mey explained.

  Zeric frowned, considering her words. He could see her point. The Cardinians hadn’t been the most enthusiastic about the rebellion at the outset. From what Maarkean had told him, they had only supported the formation of the army because one of their own, General Numba, had been placed in command. Now Numba was dead and Zeric was his replacement.