Rise of Nimrod Fleet (The Contingency War Book 3) Page 16

“I have heard disturbing reports of your recent actions, Provost Adra,” began Kagan, shrugging off her formal greeting. “I desired to hear your motives first-hand. You have been difficult to reach of late.” His voice had a melodic quality to it, which seemed at odds with his formidable stature. Kagan stood three inches taller than Adra, who herself was a towering figure, though like his voice, his face was not that of a hard-edged soldier. Were it not for his amber-edged, black armored uniform and the plasma pistol attached to his belt, it would have been difficult to imagine him as a soldier at all. But a soldier he was, capable of exceptional acts of brutality. “I trust that you know why I am here.”

  “Yes, High Provost,” replied Adra. There was no sense in trying to bluff or lie. She had seen what Kagan did to those who disrespected him. He had once executed a Vice Provost for proposing an alternative course of action to the one he had ordered. He had calmly approached Vice Provost Yuleen, a name that Adra had never forgotten, and smashed a forearm into her throat, crushing her windpipe. He’d then removed Yuleen’s own knife and impaled it into her skull through the base of her neck. The act of violence in itself had not shocked Adra; to the contrary, she had found it inspiring. Yuleen’s execution was a just response to an open act of disobedience, and a perfect example of strength and leadership. But she had no desire to share Yuleen’s fate.

  “I have been tracking the source of a signal anomaly inside the CoreNet,” Adra volunteered. “It is my belief that a Hunter simulant has become severed from our system of controls and is the cause of these incursions. My suspicion is that it was modified by a surviving faction of Earth Fleet. I have been pursuing these suspicions in order to gather evidence of proof, before bringing it to the attention of the Warfare Council.” Adra had not lied, at least not outright, though it was a version of the truth that still omitted a great deal, and she knew even this was a risk.

  High Provost Kagan listened patiently, all the while remaining fixed on Adra’s piercing green eyes. “Humans?” he said after a pause, forming the word as if it were the name of virulent disease. “You have proof of this?”

  “Yes, High Provost,” Adra answered promptly, “I saw them with my own eyes, but I was then called to respond to this Priority One, before I had an opportunity to submit the report. That is why I am here.”

  “You actually saw a living human being?” asked Kagan, again speaking the word human as if it were a synonym for excrement. On the main deck, Adra saw Kagan’s adjutant shifting position awkwardly in her peripheral vision, clearly caught off guard by Adra’s revelation.

  “I did, High Provost, I saw two to be precise,” replied Adra, “at Reclamation Facility Cygnus G7-530. They have possession of a Hunter Corvette, which they are using to travel without raising suspicion, and I believe there to be more. Perhaps many more.”

  Kagan’s eyes narrowed, but he maintained his vice-like lock on Adra’s eyes. Adra, likewise, held his gaze without blinking. The constant thrum of the War Frigate’s engines filled the silence and burrowed into Adra’s brain like termites. She was still far from her strongest, but she was careful not to show weakness to Kagan. Adra knew the revelation that human beings had survived would shift Kagan’s focus, and perhaps offer reason enough to spare her life.

  It had been Kagan who had masterminded the extermination of the human race and the conquest of Earth. This was in spite of pleas from the non-military governmental factions for mercy and a pursuit of friendship and diplomacy; cries that were supported by widespread public outcry once the invasion became public knowledge. Many in Hedalt society outside of Warfare Command were appalled at the notion that after millennia under the iron rule of the Masters, they would then become the very thing they had risen up to destroy. But while the shared ancestry of humans and Hedalt inspired millions to call for peace, Kagan, Adra and the ruling Warfare Council found this notion abhorrent. Humans had inherited Earth only because the Hedalt had been removed from it, and in their absence Homo Sapiens had spread like a plague. And like all plagues, they had to be purged. As such, all objections to the war were dismissed outright, and the thousands of organized public protests were quickly and violently quelled. Kagan had orchestrated it all, acting without hesitation or remorse, even as he had ordered the execution or incarceration of hundreds of thousands of dissenters.

  “You should have reported this discovery to Warfare Command at once,” said Kagan, breaking the silence. His voice, while no less musical, had a waspish edge that had not been present before.

  “I should have,” replied Adra immediately, “I apologize, High Provost.”

  Kagan stepped towards Adra, and though she did not flinch, she half expected him to deal with her as he had done Yuleen. But instead Kagan breezed past Adra and stopped at the forward edge of the command platform. For several seconds he just stared out through the viewport at the image of the crippled freighter, which was now being attended to by one of Kagan’s two Corvus escorts. Repair drones buzzed around its engines and repaired the gaping hole in its hull that was left open after Adra’s frigate had sliced the racketeer ship from it.

  “You are to return to the home world at once,” Kagan said, with his back still facing Adra. “A tribunal will be arranged to investigate your discoveries and your actions more fully.” Then he turned around, “And as for these humans, I will investigate personally. See to it that your records and logs are transferred to my War Carrier.”

  “Yes, High Provost,” said Adra, respectfully, but inside her anger was building once again. She knew that Kagan was setting her up to take the fall for the human situation, so he could save face. He would then pursue and destroy the surviving humans and take the credit, while Adra would be executed for her failures. But there was nothing she could do to alter the course of events that would follow. She could only hope that the other provosts serving on the tribunal would see value in having Adra kept alive.

  Kagan marched past Adra, seemingly intent on leaving, but then he stopped, as if remembering something that had slipped his mind, and he turned to face her again. “Where is your adjutant?” he asked, glancing to the station where Lux should have been standing.

  “Regrettably, Adjutant Lux died,” replied Adra. She had been so caught up with her own fate that she had forgotten that Lux had already met his own. “He suffered acute neural trauma. It happened immediately before I responded to the Priority One, so I have yet to report his loss.”

  Kagan glanced down to his adjutant and then back to Adra, “That is unfortunate.”

  Adra could see Kagan’s adjutant out of the corner of her eye, and though she had not said anything, Adra knew from the tightening of the muscles in her cheeks and around her eyes that the news of Lux’s demise had hit her hard.

  Without another word, Kagan then stepped down off the command platform and headed for the door. The elite guard simulants turned and marched into formation behind him, but Kagan’s adjutant remained, only for a second longer, but long enough for her to meet Adra’s eyes. It was a look that she had seen many times before, but only on the faces of her enemies. Whoever this was, Lux had clearly meant something to her. And she was blaming Adra for his death.

  The door to the bridge eventually closed, leaving Adra alone with only the penetrating thrum of the ship’s engines and six simulant crew for company. She waited on the command platform for the shuttle to depart and begin its return journey to the War Carrier, which had blocked out the light from the star and cast her frigate into shadow. She briefly considered destroying the shuttle, killing the High Provost and ending the sequence of events that would inevitably lead to her disgrace or even death. But she knew that even if she succeeded, the War Carrier and its Corvus escorts would pulverize her frigate to atoms within seconds of the shuttle exploding. She did not know the odds of her surviving the tribunal, but those odds were still far greater than making it out of the system alive, under fire from the most powerful ship in the Hedalt armada.

  “Set course for the home world,” sai
d Adra, once Kagan’s shuttle had docked. “Begin jump calculations and inform me the moment they are complete.”

  The secondary pilot simulant acknowledged the order, but Adra was already on her way down from the command platform. She needed rest. She needed to regain her strength and face the tribunal at the peak of her mental and physical condition, or as close to it as possible. Rest would also help her to regain a stronger mental grip over her temper so she could better contain the rage that was consuming her. If she could face the tribunal free from such emotions, she had a much higher chance of survival.

  As the bridge door slid open, one of the many anonymous simulant crew stepped onto the threshold. It was arriving to relieve one of the other simulants so that it could regenerate, but the sudden appearance of a belligerent-looking Provost Adra in its path had muddled it. Adra waited for the simulant to move, but it dithered, trying to decide whether to step back or step through and to the side, or simply turn sideways to allow Adra to pass. Instead it remained in Adra’s way, blocking her path and tipping her over the edge. Adra roared ad grabbed the simulant by the neck, before slamming its head into the open door frame, over and over and over again. Before long, its cranial unit split open and its lobotomized human brain was smashed into the frame of the door. Eventually the strength in Adra’s arm failed and she tossed the body aside, breathing heavily and squinting her eyes as pain again shot through her head and neck. She allowed her breathing to relax and stepped over the body, treading a trail of crushed brain matter underneath her boots all the way into her personal suite.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  The lights inside the combat simulator dimmed and the viewport flashed on, placing them in a fictitious star system with a k-type star that bathed the bridge in warm marmalade tones. Casey Valera was spinning around in the pilot’s chair pointing the toes of her purple canvas shoes like a ballerina, while Blake Meade reclined back in his seat at the tactical station, with his head cocked to the side, smiling at her.

  “Okay, crew, this may just be just be a simulator, but I expect you to treat it no differently to a real enemy engagement,” said Taylor from the command chair. Then he looked across at Casey, still spinning gracefully, seemingly oblivious to what Taylor had said, and added, “That means you too, Casey.”

  “I am acting no differently than I would if this was a real enemy engagement, Cap,” Casey replied, the volume of her voice rising and falling as she continued to spin.

  Taylor opened his mouth to argue, but then realized she was telling the truth; this was exactly how Casey normally acted. He noticed that Blake was glancing back at him, grinning, and he couldn’t help but smile too. “And how about you? Do you still remember how to shoot straight?” he asked his new Tactical Specialist.

  “He can’t remember what he never knew in the first place, Cap…” Casey cut in, drawing a wide-eyed stare from Blake.

  “Hey, I dunno what your Blake was like, but I can hit a toothpick on a spinnin’ asteroid,” he bragged.

  “That’s easy, you just blow up the asteroid…”

  Blake shook his head, but he was still smiling, “Damn, you’re even more of a wise-ass than I remember.”

  Casey tipped an imaginary hat towards him and then continued spinning.

  “Don’t worry ‘bout a thing, Cap,” Blake said, turning back to face Taylor, “if the comedian over there can line ‘em up, I can shoot ‘em down.” Then he gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and added, “Ain’t nothin’ to it.”

  Taylor’s console in the command chair bleeped twice and he checked it, noting that the simulator had added two Corvus-class cruisers to the combat scenario. The engineers were still in the process of updating the simulators with all the more recent Hedalt ship classifications that the Contingency One had encountered while outside of the base, so for the time being all they could do was train against the older Hedalt vessels that were already in the system. But, even though the Corvus-class cruisers were old like the Contingency One, they were also far more powerful, and Taylor recalled how the last simulated battle they’d run against these tank-like ships hadn’t ended well.

  “Mission operations, what is your analysis of the system?” asked Taylor, looking over to James Sonner, who had volunteered to man the station so they could run the simulation. He was wearing his new Technical Specialist’s uniform and flight crew badge, after having formally received a promotion from his sister, despite Collins initially trying to block it on the grounds of favoritism. Sonner had almost punched the Colonel on the nose, but Taylor managed to diffuse the situation by arguing, logically and dispassionately, in favor of the promotion based on James’s performance.

  “It’s just empty space, bar a small asteroid field between us and the approaching cruisers,” said James, “possibly the remains of a comet collision with a small planetoid. It could provide useful cover.”

  “Very good,” said Taylor. “Casey, set a course and make sure those enemy cruisers get a good look at where we’re going.”

  “Aye aye, Captain Taylor Ray,” chimed Casey, finally stopping spinning and then taking hold of the control column to pilot the ship manually.

  Unseen by any of them, Commander Sonner had sneaked onto the simulator and was lurking in the shadows at the rear of the mocked-up bridge, quietly observing. She had come looking for Taylor in order to discuss the outcome of her meeting with Colonel Collins, but was intrigued to see how the new addition to the crew would perform, and how the dynamic of the crew would change now that it was three-quarters complete. She glanced at the simulator control panel in the wall where she was hiding and read the program settings. Taylor had configured the simulator to a high difficultly level, but not the highest. Sonner smiled and, peeking out from her hiding place to check she had still not been discovered, quietly increased the combat skill of the enemy ships to maximum. Let’s see how they handle this... she thought mischievously.

  Casey was burning hard towards the asteroid field, creating the effect of a comet’s tail behind the ship, making it simple for the enemy vessels to spot them and know where they were going. As expected the Corvus cruisers adjusted course and also accelerated their approach, trying to cut them off before they reached the relative safety of the asteroid field. Then a tactical alert sounded and Blake scanned it quickly.

  “They’ve launched torpedoes,” Blake said, staying calm. “Two at us, and two towards the asteroid field.”

  “Smart...” remarked Taylor, stroking the non-existent stubble on his chin; a habit he could still not shake. “They want to destroy our cover, but also panic us into making a snap change of plan.” He slid forward to the edge of the command chair and looked at Blake. “Can you shoot down the torpedoes?”

  “I’ve already locked the forward turrets onto the torps headin’ for us,” Blake answered, “but the others are outta range.”

  “Cap, I need to decelerate now if we’re still gunning for the asteroid field,” said Casey, but then she put her hand to her mouth, “Oops, sorry, bad choice of words...”

  “Decelerate and head into the asteroids as planned, Casey,” said Taylor, “I’ll trust in your artisan piloting abilities to avoid any debris from the torpedoes.”

  “Wow, so it’s true then...” said Blake, glancing back at Taylor. He was obviously baiting Taylor and waiting for him to ask ‘what’ so that he could deliver what was no doubt going to be a cutting remark.

  “What is?” Taylor obliged.

  “That you’re just as crazy as the Captain Taylor Ray I knew,” said Blake, smiling and looking over at Casey to see if he’d generated the desired reaction from his audience.

  Casey smiled back, “No, this one is crazier,” she said, shooting a wink in the direction of the command chair.

  “Can you two concentrate on the two heavily-armed warships that are trying to kill us, please?” shouted Taylor with outstretched hands that beseeched his Pilot and Tactical Specialist to start taking things more seriously. Though again, he had to question w
hether things would be any different had this been an actual enemy engagement. From the back of the room, Sonner was leaning against the wall, arms folded comfortably, enjoying watching the drama unfold.

  “Aye aye, Captain Taylor Ray,” sang Casey again, and then she began a rapid sequence of commands and adjustments to slow the ship to a level where she could maneuver with more agility inside the asteroid field.

  “Firin’ turrets,” said Blake, and then the viewport showed the brightly glowing rounds snake off into space, followed several seconds later by two bright explosions. “Torpedoes destroyed,” he added, casually.

  “Two detonations detected inside the asteroid field,” James called out. “There’s rock debris flying around in all directions, with multiple collisions; I don’t see how we can navigate inside.”

  “Oh, we can still navigate inside,” said Taylor, sticking to his original plan, but then added, hopefully, “that’s right, isn’t it, Casey?”

  “Sure, Cap!” said Casey without delay. “It sounds like fun. I can’t promise we won’t get pulverized, though.”

  “Well, that’s encouragin’,” quipped Blake.

  “Entering the asteroid field...now,” added Casey, but then there was a bassy thud and the entire bridge rattled. “Sorry about that one,” said Casey, holding a hand up.

  Blake shook his head, “Between his crazy plans an’ your crazy flyin’, it’s a wonder you ever managed to rescue me.”

  “You’re welcome, by the way,” said Taylor, sarcastically.

  Blake didn’t answer as his console suddenly lit up with multiple alerts. “The lead cruiser is firin’ its plasma cannons into the asteroid field,” said Blake. “They’re still tryin’ to break up the asteroids and have ‘em destroy us.”

  “Casey, take us in deeper, force them to follow,” said Taylor, “and keep us out of harm’s way.” He was now so close to the edge of his seat, if he moved forwards another two inches he would slip off it.