The Battle for the Solar System (Complete Trilogy)

by Sweeney, Stephen

  “You can take a man from mine,” Chaz said, glancing back to the squad he had been leading. “Think you can handle things on your own for a bit?”

  “You know me better than that, Mr Koonan,” Thompson answered.

  “Good.” Chaz turned to his squad. “Right, listen up, people – secure the perimeter. We let a few soldiers that ambushed Hotel Squad run away, so you’re to take them out on sight, understand? I want you to break into smaller teams and sweep a radius of three hundred metres from here. Trent, Moore, Cullen, you’re team leaders. Take four guys each, except for Dodds and Todd. If you get into any difficulty, regroup here – the Shard. Report in once every twenty minutes with status updates. Nothing too verbose, unless the situation demands it. Also, keep your voices low as you go, and only speak when you need to. We must assume that the Enemy’s hearing is still far keener than our own. Got that?”

  “Yes, Commander,” the three answered.

  “Good. Trent, take north; Moore, east; Cullen, west. Get moving.”

  The leaders nodded, made up their teams and headed off in the directions that Chaz had stipulated. Dodds found himself once again overwhelmed by Chaz’s command. The years that he had been a part of the CSS must’ve ingrained themselves deeply. He wondered if he would ever lose that ability. Parks may have had reservations about giving Chaz such authority, but it was clear that it hadn’t been misplaced. He understood now why Parks had been confident that should they have encountered any hostilities at Arlos, Chaz would’ve been able to pull them out of the fire.

  You may not always get along with everyone, Dodds thought, but Parks was right about the potential he saw in you, Chaz. A shame that it had put such a strain and demand on the man’s life. He then became aware that he, Enrique and Chaz were standing relatively alone in the snow over the bodies of the fallen soldiers, Thompson delegating more duties and those aiding Weathers making their way back to the river. The snow was starting to come down heavily once more, and Dodds’ feet were freezing, even in his thick boots. His hands felt numb and he wasn’t too certain about his ability to pull a trigger effectively right now. The temperature was starting to drop.

  “What about us?” he asked, looking to Chaz.

  “We,” Chaz said, stashing some of the items he had taken from the fallen enemy and moving out from beneath the underpass, “are heading over there.”

  Dodds followed where he indicated, seeing a tall building looming at the end of a road.

  “The Pantheon,” Chaz finished, “where Mitikas commemorates all its past leaders. Zackaria used to visit it as often as possible, as a reminder of the position he held and the duty he had sworn to uphold. After the palace and the Forum, that might not be a bad place to start looking for him. Best that only a few of us go. If we all show up at once, it’ll likely spook him and we’d not get a chance to talk. It will be a lot more dangerous this way, though. No telling what we might find in there.”

  Dodds wasn’t too bothered about what they found inside. Anything to get out of the cold.

  *

  Chaz had changed, Dodds thought. He was no longer that man that he’d met all those years ago on Xalan, tucked away in his shell; the man who couldn’t have given a damn about what he was involved in and only wanted out. Ever since that time on Mythos, after Zackaria’s speech had proliferated throughout the galaxy, igniting the Great Panic and spilling the secrets the Confederation and Independent worlds had desperately tried to contain, Chaz had opened up to become a more authoritative man, speaking much more, clearly and concisely, and stepping up to the plate whenever it was required of him.

  Indeed, Dodds mused as he surveyed the vaulted halls of the Pantheon, they had all changed a great deal in the last few years. Enrique seemed to have calmed, maybe as a result of his growing relationship with Kelly. He rarely spoke with his foot in his mouth these days, no longer drank to excess, and maintained a steady routine, which he was yet willing to break whenever he needed to. Like Dodds, he had become far more sedate, far more focused and responsible … and also less playful. Dodds missed the old Enrique. Enrique was always there for him and always supported him, but the man with whom Dodds had once misbehaved and had a good time with was gone. Worse, Enrique no longer seemed bothered about the outcome of the war.

  Estelle, too, had changed. The very headstrong, meticulous and neurotic woman had slipped away, disappearing straight after the fallout of Black Widow. One day she’d been there and the next … Likewise Kelly, who seemed to have reached fatalistic acceptance. In her communications, she sent out amusing anecdotes and stories, the unusual ship names being the most recent of what Dodds considered to be thinly veiled attempts to maintain her own flagging spirits. She continued to keep her journal, yet that, too, had evolved, becoming more of memoir than a diary. It was almost an indictment of their failings to score victory over the Pandorans. Dodds had wondered who would be left to read it. Would the Pandorans parade it, displaying it as the final writings of their enemies, before the infidels had met with their crushing defeat? Or perhaps the nation that rose up from the Enemy’s victory would study it as a history of their defeated foe.

  Some things hadn’t changed though – Chaz still held a grudge against Parks – that much Dodds was certain of, even if the man no longer spoke it directly. He’d seen the two men lock horns time and time again over the years. There might never be any resolution to that little piece of history.

  But one thing that was absolutely clear to Dodds was that the five Knights would never be the same again. The Pandorans’ most powerful weapon against the allied forces wasn’t their strength in billions, their application of Dragon to destroy entire worlds in hours, nor their seemingly unshakable mantra. No, it was their ability to instil in their opponents a terrible sense of loss, dread, grief, and that they were already totally and utterly beaten. Against such power it mattered little how big or strong one’s own army was, as it could do little to defend its people if it couldn’t even find the will to raise arms and fight. Darkness had gripped them all, surrounding and suffocating them with its terrible foreboding, working its ways to create depression amongst everyone it touched. Most hid it better than Dodds. He envied them there.

  He looked up at the tall statues before him and wondered if any of these great men had ever envisioned a time such as this.

  *

  “Anything?” Chaz asked, as he rejoined Dodds and Enrique in the central aisle between the rows of statues.

  “Nothing,” Dodds said. “If he was here, he isn’t now.”

  He felt a quite despondent about not finding the admiral here. As they had stepped through the massive doors and into the great hall, he had hoped to see Zackaria and his escorts standing somewhere inside. Alas, the hall had been empty, occupied only by the many marble statues that lined the walls, and a handful of dead soldiers.

  Chaz moved to speak, then reached up to his earpiece. “Koonan,” he said, before pausing to listen.

  “Didn’t find anything?” Dodds asked Enrique.

  “Weren’t exactly a lot of places to search,” Enrique said. “I tried the gallery and all the rooms up there, but they were all empty.”

  Dodds nodded and looked again to the statues. They were set into alcoves in the walls, above each of which hung a portrait of the emperor the statue represented, painted in oils and set behind what looked like well-toughened glass, to protect it from the elements. A good job too, Dodds thought, given the winters they had here. The hall itself was quite dim, benefiting only from the natural light that filtered in via the domed skylight above. The electricity was out. Whether the power loss was citywide or restricted to the Pantheon itself, Dodds wasn’t sure. He hadn’t seen any other lights or other signs of power consumption on the way over, but that didn’t mean that other locations around the city wouldn’t be sucking up the juice.

  While many of the statues were in a good state of repair, some appeared to have been hit by gunfire. He could never prove it, but Dodds had a hunch th
at some of the malfunctioning – for want of a better word – soldiers had wandered inside and engaged in minor skirmishes with one another. That would certainly explain the bodies on the floor, and was a fair assumption given what else was occurring throughout the city. Of course, it was possible that some might also have entered the memorial house and taken pot shots at the idols, perhaps seeing them as targets. If so, he was surprised that they hadn’t dealt out a great deal more damage. Except for …

  He looked to Chaz, who had just finished speaking on his comms.

  “The unit that took down Beta Squad has been eliminated,” Chaz said. “They were trying to haul a tank up out of a ditch when Twineham and his boys got the drop on them. Seems that they actually don’t see or hear as good as they once did. Guess they got lucky taking down the shuttles.”

  “Chaz, there’s an empty plinth in the room towards the back,” Dodds said, indicating the way he’d come.

  “In the Chamber of the Great Servant?” Chaz asked.

  “Er …” Dodds started, turning a bemused look towards Enrique, who only shrugged. “Yeah, the room back that way; whatever it’s called.”

  “It’s known as the Chamber of the Great Servant,” Chaz said. “It’s where they put the statue and portrait of the current reigning emperor.”

  “They call the emperor a servant?” Enrique said.

  “The emperor is the servant of the Empire,” Chaz explained. “He fulfils all his obligations and duties in service to it and his people. He’s therefore the Great Servant.”

  “Well, whatever it is, it’s empty,” Dodds said.

  “Let’s take a look,” Chaz said.

  Dodds led the two to the chamber, showing them the empty plinth. Just in front of the plinth stood a rectangular stone block. It looked as if something had once been there, but had since been removed.

  Chaz let out a humourless chuckle. “Ha, the impetuous bastards tore down Adam’s statue,” he said.

  “Who?” Enrique said.

  “The Pandorans, or perhaps the Senate,” Chaz said, tapping his foot against the plinth on which the sculpture had once stood. “They took the plaque and his portrait, too.” He then looked about the room, Dodds following his gaze and seeing more points where it appeared that items had been removed. The Chamber was most likely where a great deal of the emperor’s achievements and propaganda would’ve been placed. All gone now.

  “Why would they have done that?” Dodds said. “They haven’t removed any of the others.”

  “They – or rather, the Senate – saw Adam as a mockery and an insult to the Empire,” Chaz said. “They’d therefore not want to have his image here for everyone to see. I imagine the first thing they did after winning the ground fight and securing the palace was to come in here and pull all this down.”

  “Think it’s still around here somewhere?” Dodds said.

  “Doubt it,” Chaz shook his head. “They would almost certainly have destroyed it.”

  “They didn’t put up a new one in its place? Of Zackaria?” Enrique said. “He’s their leader now, right?”

  “No,” Chaz said again. “He’s the fleet admiral of the navy; the commander of their military force and not a crowned ruler. He’s therefore not eligible to be commemorated this way.”

  “Hmm, right! – well, I think we’ve wasted enough time in here,” Dodds said, turning around and starting for the main entrance of the Pantheon. “How about we get moving towards the palace?”

  “The Forum is our next stop,” Chaz said.

  “You’re eager to get this done, aren’t you?” Enrique said, following after Dodds.

  “I just want this all to end,” Dodds said.

  Enrique suddenly smiled, a great contrast from how Dodds knew his own expression was right now. “Mate, if the last few hours are anything to go by, then I think it might not be long before it does.”

  “But that’s here,” Dodds said. “The ones fighting on the frontline are clearly not suffering from this. If they were, they’d not still be flattening us in every single engagement.”

  “We don’t know that they are,” Enrique said.

  “Neither Estelle nor Kelly have indicated any change.”

  “Sure, but maybe it’s not as pronounced just yet. They’re in spaceships, after all. It’s going to be a lot harder to notice that sort of thing when you’re unable to get up close and personal. And besides, they could actually be in the first phase of it, and their abilities could already be suffering. We don’t know how long it takes to kick in. We’re assuming months, but it could take days or even hours, the total reverse of the healing process. Did you notice how quickly that one went down earlier, the one that had seemed unaffected?”

  “Maybe,” Dodds said, though he was far from convinced.

  “And if they start the infighting on the frontline, things’ll really heat up,” Enrique continued. “All that needs to happen is for one load of them to get control of a dreadnought or a frigate, and they’ll have a lot more to worry about than pushing towards Alpha Centauri. We’ll know soon enough, though. I let Kelly in on what we’ve discovered. Hold on while I get these,” he added, starting towards the massive front doors the three had closed behind themselves, upon entering.

  “You sent that information to Kelly?” Chaz said, stopping and looking appalled.

  “I told her to keep it to herself,” Enrique said over his shoulder.

  “You shouldn’t have done it. It could still cause problems if anyone else happens to see the message,” Chaz said. “That’s why Parks didn’t want us spreading rumour or speculation—”

  The big man stopped speaking as a dull, but clearly audible thump came from the front doors. Enrique halted, glancing back to the two men behind him. Another thump came and the doors began to creep slowly apart, as if something behind them was struggling to get inside. Finally, there was a loud bang as the two huge doors of the Pantheon crashed fully open, and into the main hall staggered several soldiers, all armed, one leading the charge.

  Hell! Should’ve locked them! Dodds thought. Like the group he had seen outside on the road, the arrivals to the Pantheon were blundering about as though they were inebriated. One seemed a little more in command of his body than the others and managed to raise his gun, aiming it ahead of himself and squeezing off a shot that sailed past every occupant of the hall, striking the wall at the far end.

  “Get under cover!” Chaz called. “Find cover and take ‘em down!”

  Dodds cast about for somewhere to hide. Sadly, the hall offered nothing, its primary purpose being to serve as a viewing place for the statues and therefore to accommodate as many people as possible. Those alcoves offered no space behind the statues. “Back to the chamber!” he called, retreating. Chaz and Enrique followed quickly after him.

  “Hey!”

  Dodds paused for a split second, looking to see who had spoken. Neither Enrique or Chaz appeared to have done so, racing past him into the chamber and moving to one side of the entrance, as Dodds took up position on the opposite. Yet he was certain he’d heard Enrique shout to him. “What did you say?” he asked him.

  “Nothing. You’re the one that said to get back to the chamber.”

  “Wasn’t me,” Chaz said.

  The sound of running feet neared, but quickly turned into a stumble as three more shots rang out. There was a cry of pain, and Dodds peeked around the entrance to see what was happening. The helmet-less soldier who had entered first was lying on the ground, blood covering the floor from a wound somewhere about one of his legs. The group of black-clad, helmet-wearing others were closing in on him, their focus seeming entirely on him alone, as if not caring about those hiding up ahead. The man on the floor turned to the entrance of the chamber, eyes fixed on the three men who were peeking out.

  “Please! Help me!” he cried, extending a shaking hand. “Don’t just stand there! For God’s sake, do something!” His cries for help turned to those of pain as the group began emptying every weapo
n they held into their victim. Even after they were done, their guns clicking on empty chambers, they attempted to continue firing. Dodds spied one of the unarmed group shaping his hands as if he was holding a rifle, miming firing it, and even shuddering from the recoil.

  Something inside him stirred. Such scenes were always brutal, but this time it felt more so than normal. “Chaz?” he said.

  “Dodds, take right, Enrique, centre. I’ll take the ones on the left,” Chaz responded.

  Dodds aimed, squeezing off his rifle for the first time since touching down on the surface of Kethlan. He had forgotten what it felt like to fire a plasma rifle, and his initial shots went a little astray. He corrected quickly, his fire joined by Chaz and Enrique, who had moved further out and now crouched down. Their targets offered little resistance, only becoming aware of the three pilots’ presence when their shots struck home. Even then, they were too slow to react to the attacks. The men and women were soon downed, collapsing in a heap on the ground, the threat they had posed eliminated. Yet the three pilots didn’t move out from the relative safety of the chamber. Dodds was certain that they all wanted to know the same thing as he did.

  “Did … did he just say what I think he said?” Enrique said.

  Chaz said nothing, appearing somewhat bemused.

  “I think so,” Dodds said, looking to the body of the man on the floor who had first fled into the Pantheon. “And if I’m not mistaken, he said it in English.”

  VII

  — The Falling Sky —

  This wasn’t going well, Estelle knew. Not that it ever did. The allied forces might be putting up a far better fight here than they had done over the years, but they were still being overwhelmed, and far faster than they had originally anticipated. The plan had been to hold the Pandorans at Alpha Centauri for days, giving the allied forces more time to find a solution to defeating them, before they reached Sol. That was pretty much all that Jenkins had been able to offer the defence line. It was clear that they were almost out of options and were now doing nothing but hoping for a miracle. If that was the case, then the Pandorans weren’t prepared to cut them an inch.