The Shattered Empire (The Shadow Space Chronicles Book 2) (2 page)

Still, Harassers weren't nearly as tough as the Hammers of his squadron and the extended missile racks that Azure squadron carried would thin their numbers as they closed.  His squadron formed up and swept around into position, even as he watched the enemy attack wave form up on his sensors.

“This is your last warning, friend,” Commodore Pierce said.  “Power down your ships or we'll use whatever force necessary.”  Garret shook his head at that.  They were seriously outgunned.  Still, clearly the Commodore thought they had some kind of edge, else they would have disengaged.  They were mercenaries and there was no profit in suicide.

Garret's eyes narrowed as he noticed the enemy carrier had launched what looked like assault shuttles. 
Why would they need to launch those,
he wondered,
it's not like they'd want to board the
Warwagon
. 
The ancient dreadnought was probably worth more to the Centauri as scrap than as a warship.  Besides, they would have to knock a ship completely out of action to use boarding shuttles with any chance of success.  Even a few functional turrets could shred those craft.

Garret spared a glance at the civilian traffic.  Most of it had cleared out, all but a pair of civilian transports caught in between the two closing forces.  Either they assumed that by staying powered down they'd be unnoticed or they simply hadn't had time to bring up their engines.  Either way, Garret would hate to be in their position.  As he thought that, the Centauri formation swept past the two ships.  A moment later, they both detonated.  At first, Garret assumed that the Centauri had fired on them or that they'd just been unlucky enough to take a random hit.  But that didn't make sense, Garret knew.  They had detonated simultaneously and the huge spike of radiation from them both suggested something else altogether.  The intense burst blinded his sensors for a long moment as Heller cursed her way through a reboot process.  As his sensors went live again, it took Garret a while to figure out what they showed.

The four Centauri Confederation ships drifted without even emergency power.  The assault shuttles from the carrier dove in among them and Garret zoomed in his gun camera to see the shuttles slam home into the warships. 
Must have been some kind of device, high yield radiation burst,
he thought,
something that knocked the engines out or maybe caused some kind of electromagnetic interference.

“Commodore Pierce, so wonderful of the War Dogs to join us,” a woman's voice said.  “It is always a pleasure to work with such a consummate professional.”  Her voice was almost as sultry as Heller, but held an edge of arrogance that managed to set Garret's teeth on edge.

“Admiral Mannetti,” Commodore Pierce said calmly.  “Thank you for the assistance.  I assume our employers approved of your tactic... though it would have been nice for you to warn us.  Half my forward sensors are still down.”

“We had to maintain the element of surprise, darling,” Admiral Mannetti answered.  “Don't worry, it shouldn't cause any lasting harm to your ships, just requires a reset at your range.  Our friends, however, will be unable to bring their power systems online for several hours.  My boarding crews will secure all four vessels before then.”  Garret blanched as he remembered where he'd heard that name.  She was some kind of rogue Nova Roma officer, more pirate than mercenary.  Clearly she'd worked out some kind of deal with Halcyon... which made Garret's lips twist in disgust.  Hadn't they learned how dangerous it was to bring in unscrupulous types from what happened with Nova Corp?

Yet, as his gaze finally slipped over to stare at the clouded blue sky of his homeworld, some part of him understood, at least, why they'd done it.  Even so, he wondered how far they were willing to go... and just how dangerous their new allies were.

***

Eldorado, Garris Major System

Colonial Republic

May 3rd, 2403

Lauren Kelly stepped down off the loading ramp and took a deep breath of fresh air.  She coughed it out almost immediately as the acrid fumes of the spaceport cut into the back of her throat.  Her companion continued down the ramp.  His long, panther-like stride took him to where a customs agent waited.  Lauren watched the two speak briefly.  She didn’t see when Mason slipped the agent a bribe, but a moment later the other man left.  “How much did that cost us?”  She asked.

Mason turned.  “More than I'd like.  I guess there's some kind of revolution going on in the system.  We aren't carrying a prohibited cargo, but I didn’t want him looking at our navigation computer and wondering what we have to do with what’s going on in Faraday.”

“Do you think they’ve heard anything here yet?” Lauren asked.  She wasn't terribly surprised about some kind of revolt here.  More than half the systems in the Colonial Republic had insurrections or uprisings.  Most of those were from fractured ethnic or political lines, though some were ostensibly about freedom.

“About your Baron Lucius?” Mason smirked, even as his eyes swept the dingy landing pad for eavesdroppers.  “Probably about his defeat of the Chxor at Faraday.  Definitely rumors about the Dreyfus Fleet.”  He stepped forward and took her duffel off her shoulder.  He spoke the next part in a low tone, “Hopefully they’ve heard nothing about Mason McGann’s involvement.”

Lauren nodded, oddly relieved that she, at least, had no personal infamy to worry about  She had possessed somewhat of a reputation back at Faraday for her actions during a mutiny aboard a Chxor ship and later during a ground attack against a planetary defense base. Neither of those put her remotely near as juicy a subject of discussion as a former pirate turned smuggler who’d once run with Tommy King.  Even that must be easier than actually
being
Tommy King.

“Let’s go, I’ve locked down the ship, and there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Mason said.  Lauren smiled slightly, glad to see the eagerness in his face.  His expression had looked so hard in the aftermath of the battle against the Chxor.

“Who’s this, I thought you didn’t have any friends?” Lauren asked.

He led the way through a doorway and then out into the crowded streets.  “I don’t,” Mason said, over his shoulder.  “He’s more like a teacher.”  Something in his voice suggested that their relationship was more friendship than he would like to admit.

The industrial smell of the spaceport blended with the stench of unwashed bodies and the faint reek of an open sewer.  Lauren fought back a memory of her childhood raised under Chxor occupation.  She clenched her fists and blinked away sudden tears.

She continued to follow Mason, though her enjoyment of being on a new world had vanished with the memories of the one she’d been born to.  She absently wondered if she would ever kill enough Chxor to make her feel better about her childhood. 
No... not ever
, she thought,
not even if I could kill them all at once. 
She’d become so caught up in her own thoughts that she nearly ran into Mason’s back when he stopped suddenly.

The first thing she noticed was the sudden tensing of his shoulders.  “Mason?”

He slowly set her duffel down, “Wait here.”

He stepped forward and she saw his hands brush his prayer beads.  A moment later, those same hands came to rest on his holstered pistols.

Lauren sidestepped into a nearby doorway and her hand fell to her own pistol.  The street Mason had led her down seemed to empty of people as she watched.  Mason had stopped, three or four meters away from the ornate entrance to a walled courtyard.

As if on cue, three men stepped out of the shadows of the gate.  All three were big men and carried weapons.  The two flankers carried submachine guns, Lauren saw.  The one in the center held a drawn pistol, not quite aimed at Mason.  He was the one who spoke, “Took you long enough to get here.  Almost thought you hadn’t got the message.”

“I hadn’t,” Mason said, “I’ve been… detained.  What’s this about?”

Something caught Lauren’s attention above.  Her eyes flicked to the rooftops to where two men took up overwatch positions, rifles held ready.

“Just a friendly chat,” the speaker said.  “Our boss had no bone to pick with the priest.  What happened here could have been avoided if he’d cooperated sooner.”

Lauren drew her own pistol as she saw Mason’s body stance shift.  Even so, she barely had it out of the holster before his first shots rang out.  The three men in the doorway were down.  She had her pistol trained on the nearest of the men on the rooftop.  Even as she squeezed the trigger, four more shots rang out, so rapidly they might have come from a machine gun.

One of the men fell onto the street, body limp.  The other, struck by her shots and Mason’s, flopped back out of sight. Lauren peered around.  Her heart beat rapidly.  The burnt smell of smokeless powder stung her nose.  “That’s all of them,” Mason said, his voice flat and emotionless as a robot.  There were times he scared the hell out of her.

His cold blue eyes met hers and he frowned, “Are you alright?”

Lauren nodded, “I’m fine.”

Mason cleared his throat, “I… have to see this, but if you want…”  A part of her cringed at his tone, for she knew exactly what he expected to find in this place.  He hadn’t spoke of it much during the voyage, but the few words he’d said had held tones of reverence.

He expected to face the worst – his sanctuary, the place he found his soul again – to be violated. 
And he’s willing to face it alone,
Lauren thought,
as if I would leave him. 
Lauren said, “No, I’ll come.”  She stepped forward and picked up her duffel to stand by his side.  He smiled, at her and she smiled back.

The stepped through the gate and Lauren bit back a shout of surprise at what she saw on the other side. The wall had concealed a large, open compound.  Dozens of trees, some in bloom with bright pink flowers, sat in clusters around small buildings.  In the center, a larger stone building squatted.  It consisted of many heavy stone pillars supporting a roof that seemed more curves and angles than anything else.

Boiling out of that structure came dozens of men and women in brightly embroidered robes.  The ocular impact almost reset her brain after the dingy brown streets of the city.  The crowd came to a halt, their leader an ancient old man with, what Lauren judged, what had to be the most absurd hat she’d ever seen in her life.  It towered, a mass of feathers, beads, bells, and possibly acres of silk.

He managed to bow gracefully and Lauren repressed a giggle at the fact that the hat stayed firmly in place.  “Mason, it is good to see you.”

Mason looked stunned, “Lan, it’s
very
good to see you, I thought–”

“You thought they had killed me,” The old man spoke calmly.

“Yes.  I’m glad you’re alright.” Mason let out a deep breath.  “Did they say why they came?”  The old man nodded, his face expressionless, serene in a way that made Lauren feel uncomfortable.  Not nearly as uncomfortable as his next words, though.  “Yes, they came looking for Tommy King.”

***

Halcyon, Garris Major System

Contested

May 3, 2403

Garret yawned and stretched as he climbed out of the cockpit.  His long, lean frame fit into the cockpit of his Hammer, but only barely.  He ran a hand over his shaved scalp and then reached down and offered Heller his hand.  As usual, she ignored it and pulled her light body out with one hand.  Garret sighed, “You know, I'm just being polite?”

“Ya,” Heller said.  “I'm being polite by not breaking your wrist.”

Garret sighed again, “You know, I couldn't
fly
with a broken wrist.”  Normally a frown on his hard, dark face was reason enough for someone to change their attitude, especially backed by his size.

“This is reason for politeness,” Heller said as she dusted off her flight suit, doffed her helmet, and put her ear-buds in.  Her voice grew a bit louder, “It would take me too long to train new pilot, ya?”

“Right,” Garret said.  He shook his head as he turned away, but he didn't even try to hide his smile.  Heller was eccentric, to say the least, but she was a great auxiliary officer on his Hammer.

“Commander Penwaithe,” a voice spoke from behind him.

Garret turned and grimaced to find a man in a black uniform.  He recognized it as Nova Roman, which meant he was one of Admiral Mannetti's people, “Yes?”  He recognized the tabs on the man's uniform, he was a commander as well, apparently.  Like most of Mannetti's people, his uniform did away with any form of identification.  Either they liked to keep people guessing who they were dealing with or it was some kind of stylistic choice, much like her infamous low-cut uniform.

“Commodore Pierce sent me to speak with you,” the officer said.  “Admiral Mannetti is preparing a raid and the locals are going to accompany us for combat experience.”  The smirk on his face told Garret just what he thought of that.  “We're cross-loading some of your missiles to the locals, until they're able to replace some of their stocks.”

Garret grimaced.  They'd captured Heinlein Base intact, but like many officers in the Colonial Republic, it's garrison commander had been corrupt.  He'd sold off most of his stockpile of munitions to the black market, which meant that the locals had a paltry reserve to draw upon after the War Dogs had turned over the Colonial Republic ships to them.  In theory, Admiral Mannetti could have made up that lack from the ships she'd captured.  Of course, she'd moved those to one of her bases 'for repairs.'