The Battle for the Solar System (Complete Trilogy)

by Sweeney, Stephen

  The atmosphere of Griffin’s mess hall was mixed. Some were heartily scoffing down their breakfast, appreciative of the reward after such an early and unexpected start. Others were discussing the upcoming mission, the implications of the joint Confederate-Independent operation, and the history of the Mitikas Empire.

  “So, while we’re all telling stories, does someone want to tell me what’s so special about this Zackaria guy that Parks wants so badly?” a man sat close to Dodds asked, as he waited for his tea to stew.

  “You don’t know?” another spoke up. “He’s the fleet admiral of the Imperial Senate’s naval forces.”

  Dodds thought he recognised the voice and looked over to see if it was the same fountain of knowledge from the previous night; the one that had been spreading rumours and speculation at their card game. It turned out it wasn’t, but the conversation did pique his interest somewhat. He listened between nibbles on toast, working on getting food into his stomach.

  “Yes, I know he’s the admiral of the fleet,” the first man said, “I was awake for that part of the briefing.”

  “Right, so how much do you know about the civil war?”

  “Well, it’s resulted in a lot of dead people and has displaced a lot more, which has meant a ton of asylum seekers and illegal immigrants that I’m now having to prop up with my taxes …”

  “Apart from that.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Not how it started, or who’s involved or anything?”

  “The Senate and the emperor, wasn’t it? Actually, no; nothing.”

  “You guys all know, right?”

  Dodds saw heads being shaken up and down the table. A lot of people seemed to be looking at the would-be historian, who appeared to have already gathered himself a small fan base. Dodds decided to give one of the sausages a go as he listened. If Enrique had managed to keep it down, then he probably could, too.

  “Alright, well, basically there are two main sides in the Imperial civil war,” the historian started, “those fighting for the Senate and those fighting for Emperor Adam III. The civil war began when the Senate disagreed with the emperor’s decision to grant independence to two of the star systems under his power.”

  “What do you mean?” someone asked. “They didn’t want to be ruled by him anymore?”

  The historian nodded. “They were forcefully absorbed into the empire centuries ago, during the early galactic conquests. The affected people were never happy about it and had campaigned for years for freedom.”

  “So he was going to let them go, just like that?”

  “Yep. The emperor was extremely popular with his people for things like that. Since he’d come to power, he’d done a lot to increase trade, reduce crime and unemployment, and construct a fairer society for all; all those things that politicians and the like always make promises on, but never actually deliver. He’d even begun drawing up plans for unilateral disarmaments alongside other nations. It was said that he’d probably have been met with approval there, too, since he’d already greatly improved relationships with other Independent worlds and the Confederation.”

  “Unilateral disarmament?” the first man scoffed. “You actually believe that? As soon as anyone laid down their arms, the empire’d point their biggest guns at ‘em and they’d be toast!”

  “Stop interrupting and let him finish, Victor,” Estelle said.

  Victor glared at Estelle.

  “No, really, shut up! That’s an order. We need to know everything. This could be important.”

  Estelle was returning Victor’s glare now, and for once Dodds was glad to hear her pulling rank. Political yarns tended to bore him, but this one was intriguing enough to make him want to hear what had happened.

  Estelle looked back to the storyteller, a thin, lanky-looking man with a bowl haircut. “Go on, what happened? Who was the instigator?”

  “Most believe it was the Senate,” the man resumed. “One day, the Senate, led by the Senior Magistrate, upped and left Kethlan, setting up house in an Imperial star system called Krasst, which held a majority interest in the Senate’s position, and was as far away from the Emperor’s Seat as they could get. They felt that the emperor’s actions were a threat to the continued prosperity of the imperium and that the emperor could one day bring about the collapse of the empire. They said it was becoming too diluted and the constant undermining of the core strengths would make it appear to be growing weak to their enemies – the Independent worlds and the Confederacy. There was a genuine concern that it would lead to many breakaway republics and general unrest. At the time, the Senate was backed by something like ten percent of the imperium.”

  “Ten percent? That’s not a lot,” a woman sitting opposite Dodds interrupted. “That’s like those minority parties you get, the fascists and the ones obsessed with trivial matters. What exactly did they plan to do?”

  “Hold on, I’m getting there,” the storyteller said, gulping down coffee. “Ten percent of an entire nation is actually a hell of a lot when you think about it – it’s several hundred million people, at least. And with those numbers behind them, they attacked all the worlds that had split from the empire and then attempted to assassinate the emperor himself.”

  “Seriously?” the woman said. The historian nodded. The woman swore, others along the table joining in with her cursing.

  “Yeah, but they failed. And so the emperor, as was his nature, invited them to an open dialogue to resolve the issues between the two. The Senate actually accepted, but then attempted to assassinate him again. They were a little more successful the second time, although they didn’t actually manage to kill him. They planted a bomb on a shuttle he was taking to Krasst, to meet with the Senior Magistrate. They ended up killing the emperor’s wife and injuring the emperor himself very badly.”

  “Bastards,” someone said.

  Dodds looked around to see many more were now paying attention to the speaker, listening carefully to what he had to say. Although the information he was providing could’ve been gleaned from any news source that anyone had bothered paying attention to over the last few years, he got the impression that, to many, this was brand new information.

  “How did they respond to that?” someone asked.

  “With a full-scale assault against the Senate and its supporters. The INF completely overwhelmed the forces the Senate had mustered to defend themselves, but Lorenzo fell short of wiping them out completely. He gave them one last chance to yield, rejoin the empire and accept his rule. And for a time, it appeared that they were preparing to do so. But then one day—”

  “Sorry,” Victor cut in, clearly making a conscious effort to ignore Estelle, “but what exactly does this have to do with Zackaria?”

  “Zackaria was the fleet admiral of the Imperial Naval Forces; he was loyal to the emperor. However, he defected to side with the Senate, and around five years ago they fought back harder than ever before and started to win the war.”

  “How?” Estelle asked. “You said that only a small fraction of the imperium supported the Senate. How could they be winning? They were outnumbered to begin with, and, after what you said about the Senate’s supporting systems being almost destroyed, I don’t see how that’s possible.”

  “I don’t know, either,” the storyteller concluded, shrugging. “But that’s why the Confederacy want him. Whatever he’s up to is starting to affect more than just the empire. He’s apparently already orchestrated the theft of a Python-class battleship, and I don’t think anyone really wants to stand around and watch to see what he does next.”

  “I don’t actually see the point,” Victor said. “Why even bother bringing him in? What they should do is just put a bullet in his head, the minute they find him. That’s what I’d do. Bang! Would solve the problem straight away.”

  “He’ll probably be dead by the time they get to him, anyway,” another of the table’s occupants put in, “since they’re planning on flooding Dragon with nerve agent or whatever it is
.”

  “Yeah, good point. The whole place’ll look like that Hentose incident back in 2612, after they’re done with it,” another commented.

  “Hentose?”

  “The underground station that had the accident with the bioengineered stuff. Everyone’s skin was practically melted off when they found ‘em. I think one poor guy was still alive. His eyeballs had liquefied, he had no nose, and most of the flesh around his face had been eaten away. I saw a photo – you could see his teeth and what was left of his jaw—”

  “Dude, trying to eat here!”

  “Good luck identifying Zackaria if that happens.”

  “Whatever they want that guy for, I hope it’s worth it.”

  “Hey, I hear they might leave the blast screens of the bar open during the initial phase of the operation.”

  “Er … seriously? Isn’t that going to be really dangerous?”

  “Really stupid, more like.”

  “They said it’s so we can get to see the retake of Dragon with our own two eyes. We’re making up the back row here, so we’re not going to be anywhere near the danger zone. They said they’d wind the screens down if it looks like anything poses a direct threat to the ship, so they know what they’re doing. Hey, you going to eat that?”

  Dodds realised that he was being spoken to, and he looked down at the progress he had made through his breakfast. At best, he had probably only eaten a quarter of it. And though he had made his way through the toast, one of the sausages and some of the beans, he could already detect a worrying sensation in his stomach. Maybe he would just stick to tea.

  “Er, no,” he said. “You can have it, if you want?”

  “Yeah? You sure?”

  “Positive,” Dodds said. He passed his plate over and the man scraped the remains onto his own, appearing very grateful for the second helping. Dodds caught Estelle’s eye, but she only shook her head and turned her attention back to her coffee.

  *

  Many hours passed as the three Confederation carriers made the journey from Spirit to Aster, to fulfil their appointment. During that time preparations were made for their arrival and the start of the operation. Boarding parties suited up, checked their equipment, and were once again briefed as to how they were to invade Dragon and what their objectives were once they were inside. Teams across flight decks loaded armaments onto fighters and bombers, performing a variety of safety checks to ensure the craft could be deployed in a timely fashion.

  For Dodds, a second mug of tea and a visit to the ship’s doctor was enough to see him through the lengthy mission profile that followed breakfast. A round of questions concluded the brief, and then it was back to the quarters again.

  A short time later, the call came in. They were approaching Aster; all participants in the Initial Run were to prep for deployment. The flyers jumped up from seats and beds, and down from bunks, filling corridors and lifts as they made their way towards the flight decks and ready rooms, to answer the request. Dodds watched them go, feeling Estelle’s anguish at having to stay put until they were required.

  If at all.

  Though he regretted the previous night’s activities, he hoped that his services wouldn’t be called upon. In his groggy state, he was certain that to do so would only invite yet more disaster.

  And he’d had enough of that for one lifetime.

  He was determined to see the morning’s wakeup call as the last he’d ever need.

  XIV

  — The Sleeping Dragon —

  Elliott Parks remembered the first time he met Sima Mandeep, almost seven years ago, during a so-called ‘meeting of minds’. Under the guise of convening for a pre-unveiling discussion of the Independent World Council’s latest initiative, a small group had gathered in secret to discuss what they had all learned about the Imperial civil war, and the growing concerns over what was to eventually become known as the Pandoran army.

  The participants had consisted of himself, Anthony Hawke and David Turner, representing the CSN; Paul Robles, the then president of the Confederacy; Joyle Lynch, set to become the fleet admiral of the newly formed United Naval Forces; the still-pleasant Governor Adrian Parsons; Captain Edward Silverthorne; and a select few others. As he had listened to Parsons spouting an unending stream of similes and metaphors, plucked from an oversaturated thesaurus the man appeared to have swallowed, Parks saw someone slipping into the room. The woman apologised for her lateness and took the empty seat next to the silver-haired Silverthorne, and opposite Parks’ own.

  Parsons made some sweeping introductions before returning to his true love – the sound of his own voice, though for a time Parks heard none of it. It was rude and unprofessional to stare, and Parks did his best not to. It didn’t do him much good. Mandeep had captivated him from the very moment she had entered the room and smiled at all those around the table.

  A deceptively young-looking woman, she was graced with near-flawless, olive skin, bright hazel eyes and silky-smooth black hair, tied into a neat bun on the top of her head. As Parks came to know her, he discovered that her voice, too, was soft and quite befitting, though she was more than capable of commanding an authoritative tone when she needed to, one that would temporarily break the enchantment Parks felt and have him listening seriously to everything she had to say.

  After the meeting concluded, the group attended a high profile dinner that had been set up to celebrate the formation of the United Naval Forces, as well as the expansion of the Independent World Council. President Robles, Admiral Lynch, Governor Parsons and IWC Chancellor Salvador Fry had spent much of the meal strongly voicing their opinion that this would help to establish further coalitions between the Independent nations, as well as improve relationships with the Helios Confederacy.

  If asked later, Parks would have struggled to identify and recite much of what had been discussed. Mandeep had come to sit close by once more, and the two had spent a great deal of the evening speaking almost exclusively to one another. The topics of conversation had crossed a variety of subjects, though Parks was careful not to pry into her personal life. No ring on her finger, he had noticed. Not that that meant anything, of course, but a promising indication nonetheless. Parks wasn’t sure who had tampered with the seating arrangement, sure that the woman had been meant to be sat much further away. Perhaps Hawke or Turner had had a hand in it, sensing his immediate attraction towards her.

  He had met with her on a number of other occasions following that night, and prior to each had forgotten just how beautiful he found her. He was always disappointed that he had never found the time to get to know her better, the predicament threatening the galaxy and their own responsibilities in meeting and tackling that menace consuming much of their time.

  Now, as he watched from the bridge of Griffin as the blue haze of jump space peeled away and the Aster system came rushing forward, he was sadly aware that today was unlikely to offer any such opportunities, either.

  *

  Grendel and Grendel’s Mother arrived in the Aster system not long after the trio of Confederation carriers had exited jump. Parks had been in the process of checking in with his fellow command, ensuring that there had been no mishaps during transit, when the call from Grendel’s Mother had come in.

  Mandeep presented a warm smile. “Hello, Elliott,” she said, “good to see you again. I hope we didn’t keep you waiting long?”

  “Your timing was perfect, Sima. We just arrived ourselves,” Parks said, finding it difficult not to return the woman’s smile, something about it feeling a whole lot more personal than professional.

  “Nice setting for it,” she said, her gaze shifting to the generous backdrop the system offered.

  “It is indeed,” Parks said, looking to their colourful surroundings. Aster lay in close proximity to a number of nebula – red, blue and green hues hanging like fine silk curtains amongst the distant stars. There were few who would fail to be impressed by such a sight, many of the inhabited star systems throughout the known
galaxy lacking any such splendour. The magnificence of the scene hadn’t been wasted on Parks either, despite the reasons for his being in the system. He had taken some time when they first arrived to gaze upon it, feeling some of his stress slipping away.

  “I will be sure to send you a copy of our footage after everything is wrapped up,” he said, looking back to Mandeep.

  “Much appreciated, Commodore,” she smiled again.

  What a beautiful smile. How did she manage to make it captivate him so? Even her teeth looked perfect. No, he had to snap out of it. Now was not the time to be distracted. The next few hours could prove absolutely critical to not only recovering Dragon, but also undoing the mistakes of the Senate before they grew much worse.

  He shifted the conversation back to the operation. “Just before your arrival, we were making fighter defence preparations and will shortly be executing tactical formation manoeuvres. As agreed, Grendel and Leviathan will lead the assault run. If you could have Captain Silverthorne liaise with Captain Meyers to ensure that everything is in place, then I will give the go-ahead for us to begin.” He knew that Mandeep had already been fully briefed on every aspect of the operation, and only reiterated it to ensure that all bases had been covered.

  “Understood. I will be in touch. Grendel’s Mother out,” Mandeep said, ending the communication.

  Time to get this show on the road, Parks thought. “Mr O’Donnell, send orders to begin deployment,” Parks said. “After all units and squadrons are in place, we will move into position.”

  “Yes, sir,” O’Donnell answered him.

  “Commodore, Captain,” Parks said to Meyers and Hawke, “deploy your teams. I want to ensure that we are able to execute our strike, not only the very second enemy forces appear, but also if Dragon arrives earlier than was originally anticipated. The element of surprise should give them little chance to plot an escape, and could well be key to our success here today.”