Winds of Vengeance Read online

  “Yes, sir. You have my loyalty…now and always.” West’s voice was crisp, her words solemnly spoken. “And I truly believe this is what must happen—to save the republic. It is no different than the mutiny so many years ago…and if Admiral Compton had not done what he did, I believe we would all be dead now.”

  “I am with you too, sir. There is more at stake than just the crisis with the Mules. I can see the divisions within the Corps as well, the strain between the Tanks and the NBs. It is foolish, a problem that shouldn’t exist. But politicians will always pick at and exploit differences between us. It is their route to power. We avoided that problem for many years after we first arrived. Our people were just relieved at the chance to build a new home. But now we are going down the same path the Alliance did…and I’d see us avoid that trap if possible. I can think of no one better to lead us around it than you.”

  Harmon nodded. “I hope I can live up to your expectations…I am far less certain than you seem to be.” He turned toward Mariko. “And you most of all must be sure of this, Mariko. You will be the wife of a dictator. In spite of what you all have said, many will call me tyrant. You will be branded with this.”

  “Let them brand you whatever they want. Let them brand me. I am tough enough to take whatever they throw our way. And my bruised feelings are not a reason to allow the republic to fall into civil war and destruction.” She looked right into his eyes. “I am with you, my love, now and forever.”

  Harmon sat silently for a moment, his eyes dropping to the floor. Finally, he looked up. “Okay, my co-conspirators…let’s do this.” He turned toward Frasier and West. “Get your people in place…we need everything secure before a word of this gets out.”

  “Yes, sir.” West and Frasier answered almost in unison.

  “Once everything is in place, I’ll give an address, try to figure some way to make this sound like anything but what it really is.” He stood up abruptly. “But first I’ll change…I’m not sure a bathrobe is suitable attire for a coup.”

  * * *

  “How do I look? Appropriate for a despot in the making?”

  Fujin looked back at Harmon and frowned. “Stop that. It’s not funny. You’re doing what you have to do, not plotting to seize power for personal gain.”

  Harmon nodded. “You’re right. I just feel…I don’t know, like this is wrong. I know what we discussed, and I agree with it all. But it is still difficult.”

  She reached over and put her hand on his arm. “You can do this. You are strong, and you’re a good man. And you are taking this action to save your people, no less than Terrance did.”

  Harmon’s head snapped around, his eyes catching West and Frasier walking up toward him.

  “It’s done, sir. The fleet and orbital platforms are on limited alert, and all key ships are under the control of reliable officers.” West leaned forward, speaking softly.

  “All ground installations are occupied as well, sir. We control all communications, all government and military facilities, all weapons storage, all transportation systems.” Frasier followed West’s lead, angling his head toward Harmon’s and whispering.

  Harmon just nodded. Then he straightened up and ran his hands over his spotless suit, brushing it flat, neatening the few wrinkles. “I guess there is no cause for delay. It’s time for the people of Earth Two to find out they do not actually live in a democracy.”

  Mariko frowned again. Harmon suspected his wife knew his self-deprecation was part of his method for dealing with what he had to do. But she was a true believer, and she considered his angst and guilt to be misplaced. He knew that well enough, and he even understood her opinion. But he was the one stepping up, as so many dictators and strongmen had in human history. Perhaps he was different, but he knew he would have to prove that…and for today, most of the men and women who watched his broadcast would follow him out of fear.

  But if that’s the way it has to be…

  He turned and walked toward the podium. He glanced over at the man behind the camera, and he got a thumbs up response in return. Everything was ready.

  “Mr. President!” A uniformed officer was running across the studio toward Harmon. Two of the extra Marine guards Frasier had assigned to protect the president moved quickly to intercept the visitor, but Harmon yelled out for them to stand aside.

  “Captain, what is it?” Becky Barth was one of Harmon’s aides.

  Barth slipped forward between the two, now stationary, Marines and ran right up to Harmon.

  “Mr. President…Cyclone has just transited into the system.”

  Harmon felt his stomach clench. Cyclone was one of Admiral Frette’s vessels. He couldn’t think of any good news scenario for the ship to arrive back alone.

  “Status report?”

  Barth looked around. “Sir, she sent a coded message the instant she emerged from the gate. It is highly classified…”

  Harmon turned and looked out across the large room. “Out! Now! Everybody…I need this room cleared.” He turned toward West and Frasier. “Admiral, General…stay. And you, Mariko. Everybody else, take a break. I’ll call for you when I’m ready to resume.”

  He watched the technicians filter out of the room, along with his other aides. The Marine guards hesitated.

  “Both of you…wait outside. I’ll be fine. General Frasier can keep an eye on me.”

  The Marines turned slowly, looking uncomfortable, but also clearly not willing to disobey the president’s direct order.

  Harmon turned toward Barth. “What is it, Captain?”

  “Admiral Frette reports contact with a significant fleet, sir. Her forces engaged and destroyed the enemy, and on her own discretion the fleet had proceeded farther along Hurley’s course. She sent Cyclone back with copies of all the intel her people collected…and a warning.”

  The officer looked at the small group gathered around her. She knew they were the top officials of the republic, but she still looked uncomfortable. Then the words came from her lips.

  “The First Imperium is back, sir…”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Captain Josie Strand’s Address to her Crew

  Near the Beginning of “Strand’s Stand”

  I know you’re scared…we’re all scared. Even Admiral Compton was scared during his great battles. We are all human beings, nothing more than men and women standing against the forces that would destroy us. But the great admiral and his legendary fleet, our fathers and mothers, pushed back against the fear. They refused to accept the inevitability of defeat…and their defiance matched the overwhelming strength of the enemy.

  We fight now, not a different war, but the same one they did, against the same enemy. The years of peace, the shining time when we were born and came of age, was merely a respite. We know that now, and we will rise to the challenge, take our place in the line of battle. The courage and strength of those who came before us brought our people to a new world, founded a new society, and built a future, for themselves…and for us, the first generation born on Earth Two.

  We are young, many of us in our positions far earlier than those of the old fleet had been. We have seen little of war, fought in only one battle before this. Yet, here we stand, steadfast, ready to do what we must. Our situation is desperate, but that is not enough to defeat us…for we are the children of heroes, and we shall not fail to live up to their example.

  Fight with me, officers, spacers! Stand to your posts, and face the enemy…and claim the honor and renown that is yours by birthright. Fight to save your home, the one our parents built for us, the only one we have ever known…

  Flag Bridge – E2S Compton

  System G47

  Earth Two Date 12.09.30

  “Admiral, we’re picking up enemy forces moving into the system through our entry warp gate.” Kemp’s voice was edgy, but Frette could hear the anger as well, and the determination. It was a familiar sound, one she remembered from the days of the fleet’s battles. And now she was hearing i
t in the voices of her younger spacers as well. She was proud of them, and she felt pride, satisfaction that the years of training were paying off. But there was an undercurrent of sadness there too. For the past decade, while she and Erika and the other veteran officers had trained their successors, she had hoped they would be spared the nightmare her generation had faced.

  “Set a course to intercept, full thrust. Excalibur and her escorts will go with us…relay the orders.”

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  Frette stared down at the floor in front of her. She didn’t like how things were shaping up, not one bit. Her instincts had run wild when she’d gotten word that the enemy was coming from two different warp gates almost simultaneously, and news that another force was coming through the last gate, from the very direction her fleet had come from, left little doubt. She had led her people into a trap.

  Frette was angry with herself, and fighting off doubts. For all the fame she’d acquired with her crazy atmospheric landing stunt to rescue Max Harmon from the imperial home world, that had been the first time she’d commanded so much as a ship in a wartime situation. Her combat experience was mostly as a tactical or weapons officer. True, she had gone on to lead forces against several of the attacks from residual First Imperium forces, but though combat was always difficult and terrifying, none of those conflicts had been in doubt. The enemy forces had all been outnumbered and detected long before they got close to Earth Two, and the fights had all been mostly one-sided.

  Now she was facing something serious, worse even than her nerves had made it out to be when her people had faced the first imperial force. It wasn’t just the number of ships involved…it was the complexity of the plan. The task forces that had thrown themselves at Earth Two in the years after the Regent’s destruction had been individual, under the command of their dedicated AIs. But this was clearly an overall plan, with forces coming in from three directions…and even the advance force her people had defeated.

  A force they sacrificed just to lure us forward…

  She sat in her chair, holding back the sigh fighting to get out. She wasn’t happy with the situation, not at all. She’d planned to keep her heavy units together, but now her battle line was scattered across the system, two capital ships at each of the two far warp gates, battling to hold the line, and the last two ready to move back to the entry gate…and face whatever was coming through there.

  “Excalibur and supporting ships report ready. Commander Minh advises the reactor is operating at full power, and we can execute thrust on your command, Admiral.”

  Frette stared at her screen for a few seconds, her mind redoing the calculations, remind herself how far apart her three forces would be. She’d make a mistake, she was sure of that. Perhaps it was too many years of peace…or too much pride that turned so easily to arrogance. Or maybe she just didn’t have the experience at command she needed for this situation. She’d worked for years alongside Erika, but she couldn’t match her companion’s decades commanding fleet-sized forces.

  She knew she should have been more cautious, but now her people had stepped in it, and she didn’t know what to do. If she didn’t engage the ships coming through the entry warp gate, they would be free to move anywhere in the system…including outflanking Strand’s and Akira’s forces. Her two subordinates were performing well, bracketing their warp gates and blasting the enemy ships as they emerged. They were in extremely strong positions, but that wouldn’t last if enemy forces got around them. No, she had to take out whatever had followed her fleet into the system.

  She wouldn’t have the same advantages as Strand and Akira. By the time she got to the warp gate, the enemy force would be in the system already, deployed and ready to engage her. But she had one thing, the strongest ship ever built by mankind.

  Once again a Compton would stand in the breach…and just maybe save the day again.

  * * *

  “Keep firing!” Josie Strand was standing on the bridge again. The adrenalin was coursing through her veins along with the stims she’d just taken. She was wired, alert, sharp…and far too fidgety to sit down. Her crew didn’t pay it any attention…they knew her by now. And they knew better than to say anything, including warning her that she was taking a risk not being harnessed into her chair. One solid hit could send her flying into a bulkhead…and a broken back or neck was a foolish way to die in a space battle. She knew all that, and she’d buckled herself in half a dozen times, but she kept unharnessing and leaping out of the chair again.

  “Captain, gunnery stations report the batteries are too hot. They’re requesting permission to reduce the rate of fire by thirty percent.” Hahn looked over at her, his eyes telling her he already knew her answer.

  “Negative, Commander. Order Commander Willis to do whatever he can to increase the heat dispersal rate, but the batteries are to maintain maximum fire.”

  Her eyes were fixed on the display, watching as another First Imperium Gargoyle emerged from the warp gate…and right into Starfire’s concentrated fire. The display only showed an icon, a representation of the enemy’s location, but Strand could imagine her ship’s energy weapons ripping into the enemy vessel, tearing through its hull and bringing destruction to its inner compartments.

  The First Imperium’s technology was highly advanced, but they suffered the same systems disorientation the human vessels did when emerging from a warp gate. Indeed, it was even worse, as the AI’s that ran the ship were non-functional for the first minute or two after a transit.

  She watched as the report came in…the enemy Gargoyle destroyed. It was the tenth ship her force had eliminated, and they’d hardly taken a scratch in return. It was a dream position, but she knew it wouldn’t last forever. Her guns would burn out, their casings literally melting as some point. Despite her firm order to keep firing, she knew she would have to rest the batteries soon, or at least reduce the rate of fire. And when she did, it would give the emerging enemy ships a respite, one that would allow them to get some ships into the system and operational. Then it wouldn’t be a one-sided fight any more.

  She stared down at her indicators. The lasers were still in reasonable shape, but the main particle accelerators really were on the verge of burnout. She had to think of something…

  Her eyes caught the missile displays. Her external racks were gone, expended in the first encounter with enemy forces, but her magazines were full. Starfire was well inside normal missile range, but now a thought crept into her head, a lecture at the Academy, one they’d scheduled for a slow time, just before the semester break. It was a tactic used during several of the fleet’s battles, one pioneered by Admiral Compton. The use of missiles at short range, fired in sprint mode directly at targets.

  It was normally almost impossible to score a direct hit on an enemy vessel with a missile, at least firing from normal range. The short ranged tactics used in the fleet’s battles had involved huge numbers of weapons, taking advantage of the slightly larger but still small chance of each weapon scoring a hit. But Starfire was in a unique situation now. Strand knew where each enemy ship was emerging…and she could be sure there would be no course changes, at least for a minute, perhaps two.

  “I want all missile launchers loaded.” A short pause. “Intrepid is to load all launchers as well.” It still felt strange commanding another capital ship, being responsible not just for her own vessel and crew, but another battleship…and both sets of escorts. She had to keep reminding herself she had an entire task group at her command, and not just Starfire.

  “What?” There was confusion in Kahn’s voice.

  “You heard me, Commander.” Her voice was sharp, harsher than she’d intended. But she didn’t have time to explain herself. In fact, she didn’t even have time to deal with her crew…

  She plopped down hard in her chair, grabbing the headset and clipping it in place. She fired a thought to the ship’s AI. “Load all missile tubes. Download sprint mode nav data, and prepare to arm and fire.”


  “Loading sequence initiated. All tubes will be ready in forty-seven seconds.” She could have sworn she’d ‘heard’ the AI’s response, but she knew it hadn’t been audible, just a thought injected into her mind. She found the direct connection to her ship’s main operating system disconcerting, but she could see the advantages too. The next generation of the republic’s spacers would probably man a battleship with no more than a dozen souls, and each would be totally integrated with the electronic intelligences that ran the vessel.

  If there is another generation…

  “Commander Kahn…the main batteries are to cease fire in forty seconds. I want full emergency cooling protocols as soon as they shut down.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Strand knew Kahn had his neural link connected…and that meant he knew exactly what she was doing. She wasn’t sure he understood, not yet. But he would in about forty seconds.

  “Commander Willis reports ready on emergency cooldown. Main guns will be ready to resume fire two minutes after initial shutdown.”

  “Very well, Commander.” The accelerators had their own liquid nitrogen cooling system that siphoned off the immense heat the weapons generated, but the emergency protocols would increase the flow rates, well past safety levels…almost to the red line. She’d half expected a complaint from her engineer, or at least a warning of the risks. But Willis was a pro, and he knew the situation as well as she did.

  “All launchers loaded, Captain. Intrepid is still loading…”

  “Arm all missiles. Enter guidance coordinates…target the warp gate, the primary emergence point of the enemy ships. Intrepid is to stand by.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Kahn’s voice was more animated, the dawn of understanding. A few seconds later: “All missiles armed.”

  “I want two launches every ten seconds…and I want each tube reloaded the instant it launches. All safety procedures are waived.”