The Fallen

by Paul B Spence

  "Well, Admiral," Captain Singh said, "I think I can speak for all my officers when I say thank you for your trust. As for ours, you can thank your envoy for that. It is hard not to trust a man like Lt. Commander Tebrey."

  Tebrey smiled and nodded. He didn't spoil the captain's compliment with false modesty, either. He'd worked hard to earn their trust. He just hoped that he wasn't mistaken about trusting them. There hadn't been any sign of influence by the enemy, but he had to be constantly on guard. It was exhausting.

  "I suppose that by now you've all heard of the fiasco on Mars?" Admiral Meleeka asked.

  "The Drennanist enclave?" Singh said.

  "Yes. The media is already calling it the Milankovic Massacre."

  "My understanding is that the terrorists fought back pretty hard, and the marine commander on site got a little overzealous," said Tebrey.

  "Overzealous?" Admiral Meleeka asked with a raised eyebrow. "Is that what you would call eleven hundred dead? Including women and children?"

  Tebrey winced and then shrugged. "I only meant that when the fighting gets hot, it's easy to get carried away on the wave of anger," he said. "And eleven hundred dead really isn't that many. We lost more than that when the Warbird blew up. We lost ten thousand times that on Serendipity."

  "No, it isn't a lot by military standards," said Admiral Meleeka. "But this time it was televised. Everyone in the Sol system saw the torn bodies of the little terrorist children, although we've managed to strip it from the outgoing hypercom transmissions. It will still get out, though. The merchant ships will carry it out of the system, if nothing else. The media neglected to report that those same children were being used as suicide bombers by the end of the fighting."

  "Pardon me, Admiral," interjected Smith, "but why don't we just issue a true report of what happened?"

  "It's not that simple," Admiral Meleeka said. "No one would believe us anyway. Public opinion is a fickle thing. Right now, people hate the military. Of course, they'd be just as angry if we hadn't done anything and the Drennanist bastards had blown up a city or something. They'd already bombed the starport. We're the bad guys; get used to it."

  Tebrey sat back uncomfortably. It was only by telling himself that he was doing what was good for the most people that he was able to get through the day. The admiral's attitude about the whole thing bothered him. She seemed defeated.

  She doesn't mean we're actually the bad guys, Hunter thought to him. She just means that's how people think about us.

  I know that, Hunter, but I still don't like to think that people hate us.

  Santiago frowned. "Why were reporters allowed there, anyway, Admiral?"

  "Because it was technically a police action," she said.

  Hunter snorted loudly.

  "Does he have something to add?" Admiral Meleeka asked politely.

  "Nothing constructive," Tebrey replied. Keep that shit to yourself, cat.

  I'm allergic to bullshit.

  "Well, that isn't really what I wanted to talk about," she said. "I just wanted you all to know why we're walking on eggshells. The media is out for blood."

  "Since we just had leave on Prism," Singh said, "I wasn't planning on letting any of the crew leave the ship while we were here anyway."

  "Good," said Admiral Meleeka. "To business, then. Our intelligence sources have identified a connection between these so-called Theta entities and our old friends, the Wolf Empire."

  "So there was more to what was going on at Serendipity," Tebrey said.

  "We think so, yes," she answered. "Based on what you reported, I think the Empire was on the planet trying to summon one of these things, and they seem to have succeeded."

  "Summon?" asked Santiago.

  "Well, I don't know of a better word. The enemy seems drawn to pain and suffering, by some psionic means. We think they feed off the pain somehow."

  Tebrey was curious about who she meant by we. The last time he'd talked to the admiral, she had been working without much support. He caught her eye, and she shook her head almost imperceptibly. He'd ask her about it later.

  "There was certainly a lot of that on Serendipity," Smith said.

  "Exactly," Admiral Meleeka replied. "Now, the Empire has a major military installation on Vesuvius in the Chi Orionis system. It was the staging ground to the attack on Serendipity. We've had some troubling reports concerning experiments taking place there. You're going to travel to the planet and reduce it."

  "Do we have any backup for this mission?" Singh asked. Tebrey could tell he wasn't happy with the mission; the man was radiating irritation. "Do you think one destroyer is going to punch through their defenses?"

  "According to our intelligence, they don't have any orbital or planetary defenses. There should only be a single ship in orbit, and they will probably run when confronted."

  "That is a huge assumption, Admiral," said Singh. His officers looked uncomfortable; contradicting a fleet admiral wasn't good for one's career, no matter what she'd told them earlier about speaking their minds. "Yes, the Empire is prone to running when confronted, but we haven't fought them in their own territory. I suspect that they are going to be more than a little stubborn when it is one of their planets."

  "Be that as it may be," Meleeka said, "I can't get you any more support for this mission. Not from our Fleet, anyway."

  "What do you mean, Admiral?"

  "I want you to try to elicit aid from the Concord before heading for Vesuvius."

  "Admiral, you can't be serious!"

  "I most certainly am, Captain."

  She didn't seem bothered by his reaction. She'd probably expected it. Tebrey had the greatest respect for the admiral. If she thought they should try, then he'd do whatever she asked him to do.

  "Lt. Commander Tebrey has dealt with the Concord before. Technically, we are still allies, no matter what the rest of the Admiralty may think. I don't know if they'll be willing to join this expedition or not, but we have to try. It would be a grand gesture."

  "Will they be expecting us, Admiral?" Lt Commander Santiago asked shrewdly. She was taking notes.

  "I'm afraid not, Commander," replied Meleeka. "There is no way to safely get a message to them at this time."

  "I assume you have something special in mind for me, Admiral?" Singh said.

  "I want you give this to Admiral Shadovsky." She slid a data-crystal across the table to the captain. "He is my counterpart in the Concord. It contains a list of ships, crews, and personnel loyal to the Federation that may be willing to lend aid to the Concord if this situation with the enemy blows up in our faces."

  Singh handled the chip with obvious dread. "Isn't this a bit treasonous?"

  "The time has come to put our cards on the table, Captain. We can't afford to remain in the dark anymore. We have to bring the fight to the enemy. This is the only way. With or without the support of the Concord, the Federation is in for dark days ahead. We don't have the luxury to sit back and hope for the best. The enemy is moving against us. We must be ready to fight back."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Captain Vardegan had worked endlessly with Francesca and Nancy to randomize their flight vectors, dropping in and out of hyperspace to reorient, just in case they were followed by the Federation destroyer. They finally settled on Beta Hydri as a good place to try approaching. That Federation system was particularly noted for its lawlessness, and thus well suited to their needs.

  The captain and crew of the Marie wanted to be sure that the vessel wouldn't be identified when it reentered Federation space. Marty, overworked as always, had adjusted the engines to alter their drive signature slightly. He had also worked with Nancy and Francesca to spoof their ID. They were now broadcasting that they were the Celeste, out of the Federation Frontier world Atlonglast.

  Rachael was extremely nervous when she brought her ship into port. There was a slight chance that someone would see the name Marie emblazoned on her hull; they had no way to remove it while they were in hyperspace, s
ince leaving the ship would have meant instant death. The negative-energy radiated by the drive spines caused an extreme gravimetric shear just meters away from the hull. It was theoretically possible to survive by crawling very carefully along the hull, but why take the chance?

  She had considered stopping at the edge of the system to scour off the name, but decided that stopping would only call unwanted attention to her ship. They had settled for adjusting their course to stop in the asteroid belt, rather than continuing on to Lihsush, the only inhabited planet in the system. There was a heavy Fleet presence there, mostly to deter Homndruu invasion.

  So far, they had been lucky. No one really used visual identification anymore anyway.

  "Docking clamps engaged, Captain," Francesca reported. "We have soft-seal with the boarding tube; pressure is nominal."

  "Thank you, Francesca. Everyone remember who we are now. I don't want any mistakes," said Rachael. "Kara-Nor has some loose laws, so everyone take a pistol. We're not going to be here long, but be careful. Do your assigned duties and report back as soon as possible."

  "What about our passenger?" asked Marty. "Somebody needs to keep him out of my hair."

  "I'll babysit the shmuck," Rachael answered. "You just worry about getting the ship refueled and our stores replenished."

  Kara-Nor had been built a hundred years before to aid in the mining of Beta Hydri's beryllium-rich asteroid belt. It had been added to frequently over the years, and the resultant habitat looked like an asteroid with elephantiasis. It was a habitat that couldn't have functioned without artificial gravity, and it was home to over seventeen million people, very few of whom had anything to do with mining, at least directly.

  Captain Samantha Ngoingo smiled in satisfaction as the icons of the other three ships in her squadron appeared on her display. They were in perfect formation. The Earth Federation Fleet vessels defending the military repair docks around Sabine could not have failed to notice the gravitic shockwave of so many ships' reentry into normal space, but that was all right. They didn't have a chance in hell of escaping, if it even occurred to them to try.

  Her ship, the CSS Broadsword, was an Enforcer-class cruiser, as was the CSS War Hammer. The cruisers were mostly along to protect the other two ships. They were Archer-class destroyers, the CSS Gladiator and CSS Firestorm. The Archer-class destroyer was primarily a mobile missile platform. Such vessels had been relied upon heavily during the last few years of the Nurgg War to deliver massive volleys of capitol ship missiles into the numerically superior Nurgg forces.

  Now they were along for a similar purpose, but with far different and less capable targets.

  Her small flotilla of ships oriented themselves for Sabine and initiated full burn on their fusion engines.

  "Send the pre-recorded message, Lieutenant Volney," the captain said. The fabricated message stated that the Concord had tracked pirate activity that was causing a loss of its merchant shipping back to this facility. It was a bogus but useful legal fiction. A copy of the message was being simultaneously sent to the Federation through diplomatic channels.

  "Message away, Captain."

  The Sentient Concord military command had spent some time considering exactly how they were going to respond to the recent attacks on Concord shipping by the Federation Fleet. They had finally decided that a demonstration against the docks at Sabine would be the best form of proportional response. The primary Federation Fleet shipyards had been overwhelmed by the large numbers of badly damaged ships during the Nurgg War. As a result, the Sabine repair yard, a secondary yard, had seven cruisers and six destroyers in its cradles.

  The Broadsword and her companions were going to destroy them. It would be a heavy blow to the Federation Fleet. Most of the crews should be out of the ships, so the loss of life would be kept to a minimum this way.

  That was the theory, anyway.

  "Well, they've seen us," Lt. Commander Theodora Colette said quietly into the tense silence of the bridge.

  "Is that so, XO?" Captain Ngoingo asked.

  "I've got two Federation frigates ramping up their engines. There are also signs of frantic activity at the docks."

  "They may be hoping to get some of the ships away. Let them try," Ngoingo said smugly. "What's our ETA, helm?" She could have simply glanced at her displays, but engaging her crew in the conversation made them feel better.

  Master Chief Wolfe James had a trace of German accent in his voice, a sure sign of the strain they were all under. "Ten minutes until we are at maximum missile range, Captain. Our course is already plotted to use the planet's gravity to sling us back out to the hyperlimit after our mission is completed."

  "What kind of planetary defenses do they have?"

  "A few orbital missile platforms, Captain. Nothing that will survive our initial attack. The frigates are closing on our trajectory."

  The Concord ships were falling down the gravity well of Sigma Draconis at one hundred twenty thousand kilometers per second, nearly four-tenths of the speed of light. They weren't planning to slow down when they got near the planet, either.

  "Communications, to all ships, if those frigates enter our missile envelop without communicating their intent, destroy them."

  "All ships acknowledge, Captain."

  The crew sat tensely at their stations as the minutes went by. No one liked the idea of firing on Federation ships, but something had to be done about the civilian losses. They watched the frigates close on the displays and willed them to turn aside.

  "We've got weapons fire!" announced Chief Petty Officer William Seymour. "Sixteen missiles inbound."

  "That was a little premature, wasn't it?" the captain said calmly. "I guess we know their intent now."

  The Fleet frigates were twenty-seven million kilometers from the Concord ships; at that range, the Concord vessels had over a minute to respond to the attack. The sixteen missiles were easily destroyed by the linked point defense of the four ships before they'd had a chance to accelerate up to full speed. Captain Ngoingo knew from the brashness of the attack that the captains she faced we inexperienced -- and desperate.

  "Fire at will, Chief," she ordered.

  The cruiser shuddered as its missiles launched. Altogether, the flotilla fired sixty missiles back, and at a much closer range. The Federation ships stood no chance. The frigates were able to destroy only half of the missiles before the first of the multi-kilogram antimatter warheads struck.

  The use of antimatter warheads was another kind of statement to the Earth Federation Fleet. The Sentient Concord was pointing out the fact that they had superior weapons technology and an economic base that could support putting that technology into widespread use.

  The Concord ships were buffeted by the expanding nimbus of gases and vaporized hull-metal from the glowing, irradiated wreckage. The chance of there being survivors was almost nil. Many among the Concord crews were sickened by the destruction. They knew it could easily have been them on the receiving end of such fury. It was one thing to unleash the hellish radiation of antimatter against aliens like the Nurgg, who waged genocidal warfare. It was quite another thing entirely to see those shattered hulks of human-crewed starships and know that they hadn't been offered quarter of any kind. They knew with a kind of dread that they were escalating a war that no one wanted and everyone feared.

  Nevertheless, the Concord ships fired three waves of missiles into the orbital repair docks as they passed by at four-tenths of the speed of light. A total of one hundred eighty missiles streaked in. Destroying the incoming missiles did the station personnel little good, because the antimatter warheads still detonated, becoming spears of incandescent particles slamming into the station at relativistic speeds. Nothing could have survived those blasts of liberated energy.

  Concentric shells of electromagnetic pulses blanketed half of the planet, knocking out every non-hardened electronic device within line of sight of the station. Thousands of civilians were killed or injured as aircraft and hover cars failed and
plummeted to the ground. Thousands more died as hospitals and critical care facilities lost power.

  Captain Ngoingo knew those missiles were just the first shots in what was probably going to become one of the bloodiest wars in human history. It would likely be months before war was actually declared, but the deaths of the sixty-two thousand Fleet personnel in what would be known as the Sabine Incident placed the Earth Federation and the Sentient Concord in a de facto state of war.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Against her better judgment, Rachael invited her passenger to come along with her onto the docks. She was hoping that if she got to know him better, maybe even got him drunk, he would confide in her about his identity. It irritated her that she still didn't know the man's name or what his business was. Which is odd, she reflected. This was hardly the first time she'd had a passenger who wished to remain anonymous, but it had never bothered her before. She was a smuggler, after all. He was just so different from anyone else she'd had aboard her ship.

  Rachael was fairly certain that he had been the one the Federation was after in the last system. He was an enigma. What did you have to do to make them come after you like that? She also wanted to know how many credits he had available. She wasn't above a little bit of minor piracy, and if he had more of those loaded credit sticks, she might just be tempted to leave him in Kara-Nor and leave his credits on her ship.

  Accidentally, of course.

  "I'd be delighted to explore this place with you," her passenger said in that oddly accented voice of his. "I'm quite sure I was never here before."

  "Swell," Captain Vardegan said without enthusiasm. He had such an odd way of putting things. Who the hell talks like that? "Meet me at the portside airlock in twenty minutes."

  "I'm ready now."

  "I'm not," she said pointedly. Nancy's comments about his looks echoed in her mind, and she frowned as she hurried off. Surely, her wanting to know more about him had nothing to do with his looks.