Westerman conferred with Ellie before leading the way down the mountain to the rendezvous point. It was only a few hours away, chosen to minimise the risk of avalanche when the shuttle arrived. They were all experienced climbers and were able to make good time. Roped together but moving rapidly they were soon at the rendezvous waiting for the shuttle.
Ellie gave Westerman one pair of the binos they’d brought and asked him to help keep watch. Nicholas didn’t protest. She had rightly diagnosed his mood. Relying upon him for anything right now wasn’t a good idea. He couldn’t concentrate. He kept seeing the last time he’d spoken with his father in his rooms at the palace. They’d argued about his betrothal. The Privy Council had funnelled the information to the media, and the king had sanctioned it. The so-called leak hadn’t been hard to figure out. Politics 101 Faragut style.
Nicholas regretted that meeting more than he could say. He could still see the hurt on his father’s face when he’d accused him of loving nothing but power. He should never have invoked his mother’s name. He knew very well that his father still mourned her. He shouldn’t have done it. Hurtful, spiteful, empty words were the last spoken between them. His memories would be forever tainted by them. He hated himself for that.
The shuttle took forever to arrive, but it did eventually show up. Evening was coming on when Ellie pointed it out in the distance. It was approaching fast and low escorted by a wing of Nighthawk fighters. That seemed like overkill to Nicholas, but maybe not to General Sir Peter Carter, current Chief of the General Staff. Carter would have questions to answer. If those answers weren’t satisfactory he would be looking for another job, and Nicholas would need a new CGS over at the Ministry of Defence.
Carter was the top man at the MOD, and directly responsible for all of Faragut’s forces. In truth Nicholas preferred the way the Alliance subordinated air and land forces to the navy. He was navy himself and biased, but that didn’t mean he was wrong. His father had been army all the way. Depending upon what he heard in the next few hours it might be time for a change over at the Ministry.
“Take cover!” Ellie yelled as she charged Nicholas. She slammed him off his feet. “Don’t move!” she hissed from atop him. “Incoming.”
Incoming? Of course there was bloody incoming! They’d called for evac. He managed to catch a glimpse of the fighters peeling off in pursuit of something he couldn’t see. One was trailing smoke and falling behind his wing-mates.
What the hell sort of rescue was this?
“Get off me, dammit! That’s a bloody order!”
Ellie ignored him but he’d regained his breath and was able to roll out from beneath her. She gave in to the inevitable and let him sit up. With weapon in hand she scanned the sky for threat. What she thought she was going to do with a pulser, even one like her cannon, he didn’t know.
“Get them up,” Nicholas said. Everyone was still hugging the snow watching the sky. The shuttle was coming in fast for a hot landing. “They’re really hauling ass.”
“But why are they hauling ass, Sire?”
“I don’t know, and don’t call me that!”
“Maybe you’re safer down here. Westerman can get us to the resort on foot. I can’t protect you up there.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re taking that damn shuttle straight to the capital. I want to know what’s happening. If I’m your bloody king now obey my orders!”
Ellie straightened to attention. She didn’t salute but she did give him a courtly bow. “As you command, Sire.”
Nicholas watched her organising things and knew he was going to lose her. That little bow was only a gesture but it felt like more. She’d been putting distance between them ever since their return to Faragut and now she was bowing to him. Strangers bowed to their king. Not friends.
The shuttle landed and the Nighthawks returned. There were only three left and one of them was trailing smoke. He assumed it was the same one he’d seen earlier, but he couldn’t be certain. Two missing. He hoped the pilots had ejected safely.
What the hell was going on? How could rebels get their hands on fighters and training simulators? Procuring them would take serious backing from the nobles. Who had his father upset enough for this level of reaction? Someone other than him didn’t like his betrothal to Earl Peckforton’s daughter; that was his guess. His father’s alliance had been a serious error in retrospect. It seemed increasingly certain that Nicholas’s reign would be heralded by civil war.
The shuttle landed with its cargo ramp already partway down. The pilot was in a serious hurry. His ship was a military HLV not a civilian craft designed for mountain rescue. Heavy lift vehicles were essentially atmospheric tugs. Powerful yes, but not very aerodynamic. They were designed to support ground troops by airlifting artillery into a war zone, not personnel. It would be a hellishly slow and uncomfortable ride.
The ramp landed in the snow and well-armed troops descended. Nicholas froze in disbelief as Ellie’s paranoia kicked in and caused her to face down a dozen men. They were in the correct uniform and armed with rifles, but in her mind that didn’t mean they were friendlies.
“Code!” Ellie shouted over the roar of the shuttle’s engines. “Weapons down!” she yelled as the fighters screamed by overhead again. “Down down down, I said! Gimme the damn code or die!”
Nicholas pulled his own pistol to back her up.
“Sunflower!” one of the men shouted and waved urgently for them to enter the cargo hold. He anxiously scanned the sky as the fighters screamed by again. “Sunflower! Are you fucking nuts? We have to go!”
Ellie holstered her weapon and waved everyone into the HLV. She was the last to enter. They took off with the ramp still closing.
* * *
4 ~ The Dying of the Light
Aboard HLV, Duchy of Kentmere, Faragut.
There were no seats within the cargo area. Westerman and the others were sitting on the deck clutching the cargo netting to anchor themselves against the HLV’s acceleration. The pilot was pouring on the power, boosting so hard that Nicholas guessed their destination to be one of the stations in orbit. He didn’t want to rely upon guesses; he needed to confirm it and learn the situation at the capital.
He carefully made his way forward using the netting and many respectful hands to prevent a fall. He glanced back, but Ellie wasn’t following. She was clinging tightly to a take-hold near the ramp and talking to one of the rescue squad. He could’ve done the same but he wanted a direct line to the palace. He prayed the Code Phoenix was a mistake.
What a horrible misnomer that code was. A phoenix rising from the ashes should conjure a feeling of joy and hope. He felt no joy at his father’s death, and no hope for himself. The king is dead, long live the king, he thought bitterly.
God, make it not so.
Nicholas reached the airlock separating the cargo hold from the crew spaces and cycled through into a short passageway that led to the various crew stations. If he climbed the ladder on the right and headed back, he’d find engineering and the main drives. HLVs were very simple ships. A hollow box that could be pressurised with a ramp at one end plus a drive module and cockpit package bolted on top. That was about it. The stubby wings and tilt jet engines of the flight module allowed atmospheric flight and V-TOL landings, while the magneto-plasma rockets of the main drive section allowed limited spaceflight capability. HLVs had limited fuel bunkerage. The design sacrificed range in favour of cargo capacity, but that design also limited speed. They weren’t very aerodynamically efficient and relied upon brute force to get anywhere.
Nicholas made his way forward to the end of the passageway and climbed the ladder that led to the cockpit. He undogged the deck hatch at the top of the ladder and swung it up to enter the flight deck. His training made him close and lock it again before he addressed the crew. Safety first. His instructors would approve. HLVs normally ran with a crew of four; two pilots, a flight engineer who doubled as the nav and astrogator, plus a supercargo who doubled as the driv
e specialist. If Nicholas had needed further evidence that things were far from normal, what awaited him on the flight deck would have set alarm bells ringing.
The pilot was a civilian, and he was alone.
“I need to contact the palace,” Nicholas said and the pilot darted a surprised look his way. “May I?” The pilot nodded, and Nicholas took the co-pilot’s seat. “Nicholas Windsor, and you?”
“Tim Donovan, Your Majesty. I was all they could scrape up. Sorry.”
“Good to meet you, Tim. No need to be sorry. I’m grateful for the rescue I assure you, but why is a civilian piloting one of our HLVs?”
“I only know my own story, Sire. I have no idea what really happened up top, but from the panic down here it must have been pretty bad. I do know that the capital is gone.”
“Gone?” Nicholas said, puzzled. “How gone? Captured or just off the air? Did the rebels attack the palace too?”
Donovan gaped. “You haven’t heard?”
“I’ve been up a bloody mountain. What do you know?”
“I don’t know much. The Merkiaari took out our ships and stations—”
Shock made Nicholas lose focus. In one small way it was a relief to hear his own people wouldn’t be trying to kill him, but the Merki didn’t play favourites. The enemy had changed not the danger.
“Wait,” Nicholas said, trying to catch up. “Have they made landings? What about the capital?”
“The capital is gone. I heard rumours it was hit from orbit but someone at the port said it was an accident. Something about one of our dreadnoughts coming down. I don’t know for sure. Everything up there is gone. They blew away Terminus; did you know?”
Nicholas shook his head in disbelief. “I knew something bad had happened, but not this. We couldn’t see the tether.”
“Well that’s one thing that went right. The tether’s self-destruct worked like a charm. I was at the port when the collapse started. The nanos took it apart like magic. The debris took out my boat. She was a sweet little in-system runner. I owned her free and clear of the bank too.” Donovan shook his head sadly. “When the tether came down I thought I was dead for sure, but Stinger grabbed me to fly this junk. He’s a supercargo not a pilot.” Donovan grinned. “I guess we sort of stole it, technically at least.”
“I’ll pardon both of you,” Nicholas muttered.
“That’s nice of you. I don’t suppose you could see your way clear to signing her over to me? She’s a piece of junk but she’s better than nothing. Maybe I can sell her and get enough for a stake. I’m a bit old to start over but what else have I got to do?”
Nicholas nodded, not really listening.
The Red One alert hadn’t been rescinded but the excitement it caused when first announced had faded from most people’s awareness. Not from his though, or his father’s of course. Their forces had been on high alert for more than a year.
Faragut like all members of the Alliance tithed to maintain the navy and the Alliance’s ground forces, but it was a matter of pride for Faragut to protect its own system. The Red One had changed that. Admiral Rawlins had insisted upon assigning extra squadrons to Faragut. The idea had been to station reinforced task forces in key systems throughout Alliance space. Any Merkiaari activity would attract notice and a quicker response. A system attacked by the Merkiaari had to hold long enough for a relief force to arrive. That was his job now. Holding out.
The destruction of Terminus Station and the capital were terrible blows. The loss of life must have climbed into the millions already. And my father! My father! Nicholas screamed in the silence of his mind. The Alliance would feel the loss of Faragut’s industry more than the loss of life. It was a key system in the production of arms. Most notably capital ship missiles and point defence laser clusters for use in the new Washington class heavy cruisers. The Merkiaari didn’t need reasons to cleanse planets, but taking out Faragut would be an impressive gain for them.
“Where are we going?” Nicholas said, struggling to wrap his mind around the calamity. He had to hold out long enough for help to arrive. “The port?”
“Afraid not. There’s not much left.”
“Where then?”
“Silver Bay. It hasn’t been hit and if we have to ditch there’s a great big ocean out that way.”
Donovan grinned.
Nicholas tried to think of something he could do, but all of his high level contacts must be dead. He felt the weight of responsibility settle upon his shoulders. Crowned or not there was no doubt he was king. He needed to set up a semblance of command and control. Silver Bay was as good a place as any to begin. The castle there wouldn’t stand against the Merki; all such fortifications on Faragut were built for historical authenticity not defence. The castle itself wasn’t important but Silver Bay was the ancestral seat of the Earl of Longthorpe, and General (ret.) Sir Harry Longthorpe had been CGS before the now presumably deceased General Carter.
“Do we have a comms link with Silver Bay?” Nicholas said.
“Faragut-1, Dragon-3. Go for the deck!” the voice of a frantic Nighthawk pilot said over the comm. “Merki interceptors vectoring for attack. I have two on scope inbound.”
“Roger Dragon-3. Good luck, and thanks,” Donovan replied. “You had better strap in, Sire. This might get a little rough. This piece of junk isn’t exactly what you’d call nimble.”
Nicholas was already strapping in, but his fears were for Ellie and the others. They didn’t have crash couches. He snatched up the co-pilot’s headset and selected a channel to the cargo hold.
“High-speed manoeuvres!” Nicholas gasped as Donovan went to max thrust. “Ellie!” he cried as the ground rushed to meet them.
“Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at this… oh crap!” Donovan swerved to miss a rocky outcropping. “See?”
Nicholas opened his eyes.
“Watch our six would you?” Donovan said.
Nicholas reached for the controls. He was navy but not a navy pilot. He’d never flown an HLV or anything close, but there were a few similarities to civilian shuttles. He found the external cameras and radar scope in time to see the Nighthawk pilots die for him.
“We’re on our own. One interceptor left.”
Donovan nodded. “We’re royally screwed then. No pun intended, Sire. I’ll hug the dirt as best I can but at this speed he’ll catch us easy. Hell, one missile up our asses is all he needs.”
Nicholas grimaced as the Merki pilot did exactly as predicted and launched on them. “Your call-sign wouldn’t be Oracle would it? Missile incoming. Countermeasures?”
“They’re automatic on these clunkers.”
Flares and decoys popped free of their bays, but they weren’t very effective at such low altitude. The flares barely had time to deploy before they disappeared into trees or behind hills. The terrain played havoc with the decoy’s ECM emissions. Instead of blanketing the sky with ghostly images meant to confuse a missile, the hills shielded them or bounced their signals back at the HLV unpredictably.
The missile ignored them all.
“I have one more trick,” Donovan said grimly. “It will probably kill us.”
“And the missile won’t?”
“Exactly.”
“Do I want to know what it is?”
“I don’t think so. It was nice knowing you,” Donovan said and fired up the mains.
The ship leapt ahead, its acceleration enough to reach orbit. HLVs were powerful tugs meant to carry extremely heavy and bulky loads. Lighting off the plasma drive to outrun a missile was madness. The ship reacted like an empty can kicked along the road.
“Crash,” Donovan said between gritted teeth as he dodged between a pair of hills. “My call-sign I mean.”
“Great,” Nicholas said sourly. “Do it a lot do you?”
“I survive them. That’s how I earned it.”
Barely under control the HLV hugged the terrain, and the missile fell behind. Donovan saw an opportunity and took it. He sent the ship headi
ng toward a gorge. He nearly made it. The shuttle clipped the ridge at full power and cartwheeled. The stubby wings and engines broke off flying crazily away from the ship. They slammed into the sparse trees and exploded. The missile was finally decoyed and added its destructiveness to the fireball.
The broken ship, nothing but a crushed box containing a few fragile humans, cartwheeled through the trees crushing and smashing them into kindling. Its main drive roared with power but there was no one left on the flight deck to shut it down. A fuel line finally ruptured causing the automatic safeties to engage. The drive shut down and the HLV came to rest.
A shocked silence descended over the valley until one final indignity occurred. A gigantic tree slowly toppled to slam down atop the wreckage, as if to shield the horror with its branches.
A lone Merkiaari interceptor flew slowly over the crash-site to scan for survivors, but the fires satisfied the pilot. She wasn’t willing to waste another missile on dead vermin.
The interceptor accelerated hard into the distance.
* * *
5 ~ Scavenger
Zuleika, Child of Harmony, Shan System
“Tei...” the voice sighed and faded away.
“Merrick, no!” Shima cried, startling herself awake.
She reached with the Harmonies to find Chailen. Two sleeping mind glows reassured her that all was well, and tension drained away. She rolled off her sleeping mat and onto four feet to pad through the silent house. She wouldn’t find sleep again this night. She decided to use her dream of Merrick to get some work done.
She ate a quick meal of cold Shkai’ra washed down with water. She remembered the Human drink called coffee. It was a bitter brew that curled the tongue, but it did have the effect of waking one up. Coffee was a stimulant in Shan, just as it was in Humans. Tired as she felt, a cup of the disgusting stuff would be very welcome. Ah well, her life on Snakeholme was a distant thing. She was home now, and needed to make the best of things.
Incursion: Merkiaari Wars Book 5 Page 3
