Ghost Fleet

by D. A. Boulter

  Fenton drew herself up and returned the salute. Her one dark eye seemed to shine with some sort of joy. “And with you, Admiral. Good hunting.”

  “Good hunting.” He closed the comm.

  “We aren’t going to make it through this one, are we, sir?” Cenet heard the question being asked of the Captain. He listened for the Captain’s reply.

  “Well, Sub, we are going to do our damnedest.” Funny how you can tell when someone is smiling when they speak, without seeing their face. Both would be correct, the Rear Admiral thought regretfully.

  Cenet looked down at his screen, at the pitiful remnants of the once proud fleet. The ships swung in line and then turned to meet the oncoming Tlartox. Cenet corrected himself. It was still a proud fleet, and he was proud to have been their commander. He just hoped that it would all be worth it.

  BREVNIZ

  Now, it was the turn of Sillan to be comforted. Abgil held him tightly. Bel Frincol’s death had devastated him.

  “It’s okay, Sil,” she murmured in his ear.

  “It’ll never be okay again,” he replied shakily.

  “I meant that it’s okay to cry.” He wouldn’t, of course. Men. Even the shock of her death right in front of them, so to speak, had only stunned him to silence and withdrawal.

  “If this is what fighting for us means, I’d rather live under the Tlartox.”

  “No! Not ever.”

  “No?”

  “No, you will not even think that. They are giving their very lives for us. We will honor that and the freedom they buy. To say what you said dishonors the choice they made.”

  She was right, Sillan had to admit. If they had believed it worth dying for, who was he to deny them? But why Bel?

  Abgil admitted her error as she stroked Sillan’s cheek and found her fingers coming away wet. She held him more tightly. She looked back to the screen, listening to the Adian Major telling of the oncoming attack.

  “Tlartox ships are moving in from Primes Delta and Echo; and from the direction of the moon, the new Tlartox force is driving directly for Alpha. It is unlikely that ...”

  “Sir! Emergence wave!”

  CHAPTER 30

  HONOR

  On two hundred million screens on Lormar and twenty times that number elsewhere, citizens of the Confederation watched in an agony of suspense as the Adian Major in Prime Alpha told them of another imminent drop.

  In thirty-eight ships of the fleet, tired crews, weary of the fight, waited for the enemy to finish the battle.

  Rear Admiral Cenet looked down at his hands. They vibrated. Too little sleep, too many stay-awake pills. He didn’t even bother looking at his repeater screen. “Well, Captain, whose are they, theirs or ours?”

  The Captain waited for a moment while the ships dropped. “Ours.” The word came without emotion. “They are ours. Second and Fourth Fleets have arrived. Message incoming.”

  Cenet turned to the screen and recognized the Second Fleet logo as it came on screen a few moments before Admiral Blarenti appeared.

  “We’re here, Rear Admiral.” He smiled, eager to get into the battle. “Now we’ll see what the Tlartox can do in a fair fight. Fourth Fleet is coming to your aid; we will take care of the fleet coming from the moon. Good work Admiral, and confusion to the enemy!”

  PREDATOR

  Tood Tlomega breathed out a long sigh. “So, they are here. At least Tlentror’s fleet is fresh. Action stations!”

  Sab Tlorth looked at her repeater screen with a loathing she’d never felt before. Her ears went back to the angry angle, but she didn’t care who saw. “Very well, Fleet Admiral. Signal sent. We attack as planned. After we finish with the defenders we’ll go after this new fleet. Catch them between us and Tlentror. Captain Blontera, if you . . .”

  “Emergence wave, Star Admiral.”

  Sab’s stomach jumped. Not more of them. Not now. But the detection officer’s ears pointed right forward, interest and elation foremost.

  “It’s our fleet from Rosneli!”

  Tlomega turned from her screen. “Sab?”

  “I ordered it recalled, sir. For just this eventuality.”

  Tlomega bared her teeth, her eyes bright, ears cocked at an eager angle. “Good work. Now we finish the hunt.”

  “Fleet Admiral, signal coming in from home planet.”

  HONOR

  “Admiral Cenet, vid from Fleet Headquarters. They want a conference call with you, Fleet Admiral Fenton, Admiral Blarenti of Second Fleet and Admiral Tensol of Fourth Fleet.” Ships at Krevost had apparently succeeded in destroying sufficient of the jammers in order to get a message through.

  Cenet looked blank. “Put it through,” he finally said.

  “Good day, Gentlemen, Lady. We have followed your gallant fight closely.”

  “Sir,” Admiral Blarenti made the first move, “Lormar stands undefeated, and undefeated she shall remain. Our crews are ready to remove the Tlartox invaders. The fight continues, a battle is imminent.”

  “No, Admiral, it is not. Upon direct orders from the Confederation Parliamentary Chambers, I am directing you to stand down your ships.”

  The four admirals were shocked into silence. Or were they? Cenet saw Fleet Admiral Fenton relax into her chair. Was she so relieved that no more of her people had to die, that she would now consider surrender? Had he and his people fought so hard only to surrender now?

  PREDATOR

  “I can still win. We have superior forces.” Fleet Admiral Tlomega trembled in anger, yet kept her ears at a neutral angle.

  The well-known Tox with the white chin under a black and gold face looked distressed. “Win?” she demanded. “No, Tlomega, we have already lost too much. There can be no victory.”

  “Honored One, we have taken two of their Primes. The others will fall shortly. It only needs one more push.”

  “Twenty thousand of our commandos lie dead and injured. Thousands of our Spacers lie dead, wounded or adrift in broken ships. Two of our fleets have been smashed and you tell me it needs only one more push? Have you any idea of the uproar this has caused throughout the Empire? Have you?” The Honored One’s voice raised sharply at that last.

  Tlomega had to admit that she didn’t. The Empire shouldn’t know anything beyond what her information people passed back. For that matter, how did the Honored One know? She looked over at Tlorth. If that one had betrayed her she would pay.

  “No,” the Honored One spoke quietly, “I can see that you don’t. You are, then, unaware that every battle has been witnessed in detail upon every world of the Empire. We’ve seen the space battles, battles on the Primes—both those we’ve won and those we’ve lost—and we’ve seen communications between the Adian and Confederate ships.”

  The Adians were responsible. Hatred flowed through Tlomega. The furless rats had come back and stirred up everyone. She suddenly realized the ramifications.

  “They are in league with the pacifists!”

  The Honored one laughed harshly. “One suspects so. All of our channels have been thoroughly compromised. By the time we knew what was happening, it was too late. The Tox know, Tlomega, the Tox know everything. Your communications, also, have been compromised.”

  Tlomega was shocked. How?

  “In fact, I’d be very much surprised if this conversation is not going out to all of the Empire.” She looked over her shoulder and sighed. “Apparently it is. Fleet Admiral Tlomega, you will stand down your ships. Rescue work is the only activity you will engage in. Is that understood?” At Tlomega’s silence the Honored One snarled, “The Tox await your answer, Tlomega!”

  Tood Tlomega let her tail relax and drag on the deck. Her head hung. “It is understood, Honored One.” The vid went blank.

  “Sab, it is yours. I am going to my quarters.” Tlomega left a very silent bridge.

  “Sir, message coming in from Adian battleship Restigouche.”

  Sab held her ears steady. “Put it on, please.”

  “Star Admiral ... Tlor
th? Fleet Admiral Fenton here. We are under orders to stand down our ships and cooperate with you in rescue work.”

  Sab didn’t know if she could take any more surprises. “Admiral Fenton, such would please me greatly. There are many who might yet be saved. Our ships, too, have orders to stand down.”

  PRIME ALPHA

  Group Commander Prawl Tlerik crouched behind a box of metal parts and looked to her weapon. She had only a few charges remaining. Then it would be claws and fangs.

  “Group Commander,” her Communications specialist called. “We have orders to desist fighting, sir. Orders directly from the General.”

  Tlerik hissed at the news. Surrender. Dishonor. On the wall a screen came to life showing the Adian marine she’d talked with earlier.

  “Group Commander Tlerik, this is Major Esranol. It pleases me to see that you yet live.”

  And she’d thought the human had proper manners. Gloating was a vice of the weak.

  “The fighting has ended. We would be honored if you would aid us in removing the injured to the aid stations and the dead to Docking Bay Two where they can be honored appropriately.”

  “Very well, Major.” Orders were orders. “What would you have us do with our weapons?” It grated on her.

  The major looked surprised. “Whatever you decide is fine with us, Group Commander. I suspect that they will just get in the way, however. Our forces will be placing theirs in secured areas.”

  Tlerik looked at the remnant of her forces. A plethora of blank looks greeted hers. She hated to ask. “Then there has been no surrender?”

  She was treated to a confused look on the Major’s face. “Hostilities have ceased, Group Leader. We have orders to cease fighting and to cooperate with your forces. I believe that your government and the Confederation will begin peace talks. Our fight is over. Now we must save those we can.”

  Prawl Tlerik let out her breath in a long silent sigh of relief. She nodded.

  * * *

  In the Auxiliary Command Center, Captain Ten Llemartol sighed as the word to cease fire came through. “Stand down the weapons, it is over,” he ordered.

  Over. He’d survived again, but only just. Without Captain Neco’s heroic charge and the sacrifice of Typhoon, he would be dead in space, even as Neco now was. Without the courage and determination of the Adian Marines and volunteers from his crew who fought and died in the corridors, the Tlartox would have made it to the Auxiliary Command Center. In fact, they had come within twenty meters before the attack had faltered and the Tlartox were driven back.

  Ten Llemartol, the hero of Restovine, he thought grimly, had survived again where so many others, more deserving, had fallen. His gaze fell upon a Lieutenant whose name he’d forgotten. The woman looked dazed. “It’s really over?”

  Ten smiled kindly. “Yes, Lieutenant, it is really over.” He turned away so as not to see her collapse into her chair and hold her head as sobs racked her body. Everyone else seemed intent on keeping their gazes fixed on nothing, careful not to look at each other.

  Soon it would change, Llemartol knew. Soon the grief would come pouring out. Now it was time to remember fallen friends. Later would come the guilt that they had survived.

  CHAPTER 31

  TLARTOX HOMEWORLD

  “We succeeded, Miz. It is over.”

  Miz groaned and clambered to her feet. She had recovered rapidly from the wounds, but movement still caused pain. “Good, Vom, good. It was all for the best. But anger will grow in some of the hunter klatches. You and your Tox had best get off-planet as soon as you can. Some will feel your collusion with the Adians traitorous.”

  Vom bared his teeth. “No doubt. Will you come with us?”

  Miz considered that for a long time. “If Shads will be there, I’ll come.”

  “I have heard no word and we must move quickly again. The hunters still look for us.” The ship waited. It wouldn’t take much to get to the shuttle and he wanted Miz with them. It would do her no good to stay, and a change of place would give her time to heal.

  “Okay, Vom, I’ll accompany you. Where do we go?”

  Vom bared his teeth at last. “Home, Miz, home.”

  BREVNIZ

  They should celebrate. Word of cessation of hostilities had come almost immediately to all screens. The Tlartox would not invade. There would be no bowing under the conqueror’s will. A time for celebration, indeed.

  In the Brevniz community hall three hundred and twenty people stood silently and looked at the screens. Not a one had cheered the end of the fight. Only a weary relief stood out on the faces of the villagers. The vids had not ended. Now came vid-streams of Tlartox and human gathering the dead and wounded, taking them to the sickbays or the makeshift morgue. Sometimes Tlartox and human worked together.

  A small group of those, working in pressure suits, erected a bubble seal on a hatchway door and opened it. Those in Brevniz already knew what they’d find.

  Near a table, which still had cards dealt to the various seats, lay Tlartox and human together. Though their oxygen had not run out, the cold had got to them. Tlartox and human had huddled together for warmth. And thus the rescuers found them. A sealed bag of last records sat on the table.

  One vid-cam scanned the faces of the dead, one by one, Tlartox and human alike, and listed their names. The list, the catalogue of faces went on and on. Abgil shuddered as the vid-cam showed Arrand Brenndol and she held Sillan a little more tightly. No one walked away from the screens. These were their defenders; they had given their lives for the people of Lormar, and witness was their due.

  Bel Frincol’s blooded face appeared and a sigh went through the crowd. They counted as, one by one, three of the other marines they’d hosted appeared. Only three had survived and one, they knew, fought for her life in sickbay.

  A very short tele-vid came in from Prime Alpha and the mayor and his wife hugged, tears of relief in their eyes. Their son had survived. His eyes looked haunted.

  “I’m to tell you that the Adians wish to have their dead interred on Lormar, in the cities, towns and villages where they spent their last leaves, if possible. I’ll come down with them when all is ready.”

  PRIME ALPHA

  Commander Mart Britlot tried to relax in the chair. He failed. Searcher had returned to Docking Bay One. She would not be space-worthy again for some weeks. He had given the crew leave to do as they would while he grieved for his losses.

  “Commander.”

  Britlot jumped to his feet as Rear Admiral Cenet approached him.

  “Sir.”

  “Relax, Commander.”

  Easier said than done, Britlot thought.

  “You did very well and I’ve an offer for you.”

  “Sir?”

  “There is an opening for an executive officer on the Class-B frigate Opperen. It is yours, if you want it.” Cenet paused a moment, then added, “Captain Mellorin will soon return to retirement.”

  Britlot stared. He hadn’t thought past the end of the battle; it was too soon to think at all.

  The position was a good one, a stepping-stone to captaincy and, if what Cenet had hinted at were correct, that captaincy would come shortly. He should jump at it. His career was taking off. Why then, didn’t he feel happy?

  Commander Mart Britlot smiled. It was only a career, after all.

  SPACEDOCK BRAVO II

  Captain Listra Benteel answered the vid-comm. The Fleet logo played for a moment before it was replaced with a face.

  “Commander Britlot. Congratulations on your promotion.”

  “Thank you, Captain Benteel.” He looked much older, Benteel thought. War did that to one, especially the kind of war he’d just fought. Britlot hesitated for a long moment.

  “Commodore Taglini didn’t make it, sir.” A vise seemed to have hold of her heart. “He asked me to make this call should I survive and he not. Right at the end, they sent our squadron to ward off a Tlartox probe. Tempest took a hit, which knocked out the auxiliary bridge where
the Commodore was at the time. I’m sorry. He rescued two people, went back in for a third and never came out again.”

  Listra Benteel fought for breath, fought to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. She fought in vain.

  “Captain, he left his final record for me to upload to you; and one of the officers he saved reported that the last thing she saw him doing before the hit was making a record for you. Unfortunately it did not survive. In addition, I want to tell you that he was an inspiration to us. To me, especially. I shall miss him.”

  Poor Tag. All he had wanted to do was to keep his honor intact. At least he had succeeded in that. But the cost. Life just wouldn’t be the same. She recovered herself sufficiently to notice that the download had completed. She’d view the final record in private.

  “And you, Commander? I suspect that you are in for a quick promotion. You showed a lot of ability.”

  Britlot smiled wryly. “Searcher took quite a beating during that last raid. They’ll probably break up the crew. But it doesn’t matter. I’m resigning my commission, Captain. I think it something that the Commodore would have approved of. I’m leaving with the Adians. I have people there.”

  Benteel nodded. “Yes. I saw one of them: a Major Coll Britlot.” She couldn’t see the screen any longer. “Tag told me that he thought he saw something between you and your Lieutenant.” She left the question open.

  “I’m hoping that she will come with me.”

  “Good. Cherish each other.” She smiled as kindly as she could. “And thank you, Commander, for everything.” The vid went blank. With trembling hands she accessed Taglini’s final record, wiping dry her eyes. His face came up, the face she’d known so well, loved so dearly.