Stars of Blood and Glory (7 page)

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Authors: Joe Vasicek

Tags: #adventure, #mercenaries, #space opera, #princess, #empire, #marine, #fleet, #science fantasy, #space barbarians, #far future

BOOK: Stars of Blood and Glory
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A life that had quite literally been
shattered.

The engine groaned with effort as the face of
the next wave became increasingly vertical. Lightning struck the
top of the crest, illuminating the water with a brief pulse of
green electric light. The thunderous crack seemed to split the
heavens, heralding the torrential downpour that pelted the boiling
surface and soaked her within seconds. The skin-suit protected her
from the worst of it. Still, she couldn’t afford to travel across
the surface much longer. As she crested the monstrous wave, she
leaned forward and flicked a switch on her handlebar, diving
through the boiling surf into the heart of the sea.

The aqua-repulsors created a small pocket of
air that followed the skimmer through the water, a little bubble
that enclosed her in the midst of the deep. The engine idled as the
momentum of her fall took her down, far past the storm-tossed
surface of the hydrosphere where things were much calmer. She
slowed, and a pair of rods extended from the back of the vehicle
into the water behind her: propellers to move her forward. She
flicked on the holographic display between the handlebars and
brought the skimmer to bear. According to the map, her destination
was only five kilometers away: one of the submerged island-cities
of New Rigel V.

Within the shimmering bubble of air, the
silence was like a tomb, reflecting the inner recesses of her
heart. How far beneath her did the world-ocean descend? In some
places, as much as a hundred and fifty kilometers. In those
unfathomable depths, neither the light of the sun nor the rage of
the storm troubled the cold, shifting waters. Humans were never
meant to go there, yet Rina couldn’t help but wish that she could
see it.

Not today, though. An unspoken urge called
her forward, and like night seeking day she was bound to
follow.

The island-city first appeared as an
indistinct glow, shining faintly through the wall of rippling water
in front of her. She slowed as she approached, coming at it from
beneath. When the cross-hairs on her display aligned and the soft
yellow glow shone almost directly above her, she retracted the
propeller rods and eased back on the handlebars, letting the
aqua-repulsors carry her upward.

She surfaced in a large, cavernous hall, with
white LEDs running along the vaulted brick ceiling. A loading crane
stood off in one corner, its claws retracted, while several barges
sat moored in neat little pens on the far side.

As she had expected, the bay was empty. There
was nothing to unload while the city was in the storm, and since
security had never before been a problem, there were no guards at
the docks. There were still the cameras, of course, but those could
always be scrambled.

Moving quickly, Rina steered the skimmer over
a nearby platform and powered it down, parking it behind a large
loading crane. She considered collapsing it and hiding it
somewhere, but decided against it. She might need the quick
getaway, and if anyone chanced upon it, they’d probably think it
belonged to one of the workers.

Leaving the skimmer behind, she pulled the
hood of the skin-suit over her face and swiftly climbed the nearest
access ladder to a hatch partway up the wall, leading into a
maintenance shaft.

Once inside, the familiarity of the cramped,
narrow space made her relax. Using the datalink implant in her
head, she accessed the main city map and found the surest
back-channel route to her target. With luck, no one would ever know
that she had been here.

 

* * * * *

 

Katsuichi stepped briskly into the war room
at the heart of Shinihon’s main station. Once a conference hall for
the corporation that operated the shipyards, it had been
temporarily appropriated by the Rigelan Imperial Navy as the
headquarters for their planetary defenses. The walls were covered
with display screens, while a holographic projector hung from the
center of the ceiling. Around the edge of the table, almost a dozen
high-ranking military officers in crisp white uniforms rose to
greet him.


Your Imperial Highness,” they
said, bowing respectfully as he walked to his seat. Behind him,
Kenta assumed his place against the wall. The door to the room
hissed shut.

Katsuichi took a moment to look into the
faces of his men. Most of them were about twenty or thirty standard
years older than him, with graying hair and furrowed brows. The
youngest officer had almost a dozen medals fastened to his dress
uniform, while the oldest had more than twenty.

In one smooth motion, he took his seat.
“Men,” he said, nodding to them. Without saying a word, they sat
down as well.


Admiral Uematsu,” said
Katsuichi, turning to a tall, broad-shouldered man on his right,
the senior-most officer of those present. “What is the current
disposition of our forces?”


Sir,” said the old admiral,
rising to his feet. “All of our warships within the Rigelan system
have gathered to the Shinihon main orbital, as requested by your
father. Besides the
Divine Wind,
our fleet consists of four
Katana
-class cruisers: the
Mikawa,
the
Roppongi,
the
Hirohito,
and the
Masamune
; four
Wakizashi
-class destroyers: the
Miyamoto,
the
Akiba,
the
Ginza,
and the
Sagami
; thirty-seven gunboats of various Federation
classes, twenty-two transports, and more than three hundred
squadrons of drone fighters. Commander Hideyoshi, who assumed
command of the
Kurefune
following Admiral Genjiro’s assassination, was unable to
respond to the summons and has moved his fleet into the Gamma
Sector for joint maneuvers with the Federation. His strike force
consists of the
Kurefune,
two
Wakizashi
-class destroyers: the
Akira
and the
Yamato
; sixteen gunboats, and about fifty squadrons of
drone fighters.”

Katsuichi nodded. “Thank you, Admiral. And
the current disposition of the Federation?”

A middle-aged officer rose to his left and
bowed. “Scattered at best, sir. Admiral Genjiro was the highest
ranking officer within the Federation, and the only one able to
unite the various factions. The various systems to the galactic
south have fallen into their typical squabbling, and High Command
has been unable to replace him. This does not mean that
co-ordination is impossible, of course, but the individual fleet
commanders do have considerable independence, which means that we
have no unifying strategy right now.”

A low grumble rose around the room. One of
the younger commanders leaned forward.


The Federation may be disunited,
but our strategy remains clear. Tagatai will doubtless advance
through the New Velan Rift; any attempt to bypass the nebulae would
put his forces out for months. Admiral Genjiro foresaw this—surely
the fleet commanders must see the importance of controlling the
rift’s entrance.”


With all due respect, Commander
Ishihara,” said an old, wizened man across the table, “you simply
do not understand the dynamics of the situation. No one has ever
defeated a Hameji war-fleet in open battle. Not the Federation, not
the Gaian Imperial Navy—no one.”


Then we shall be the first to
win that honor,” said Commander Ishihara. “Come—let’s go to the
head of the rift and smash the Hameji with a bold
counter-attack!”

Katsuichi took a deep breath, his head
already spinning with the burden of command. “You are forgetting
one thing, Commander,” he said. “We are not going to war just to
win honor, but to defend our homeworld from destruction. You all
remember what the Hameji did when they took Gaia Nova.”

A somber hush fell across the room. Katsuichi
looked each of his men in the eye.


Let us make sure it does not
happen here.”


If I may be so bold, sir,” said
a round-faced commander on the far end of the table. “As the
situation now stands, our forces would do more good at the front
than they would back here. If the Hameji push through the rift to
New Vela, it would be impossible to prevent them from attacking
Shinihon itself.”


Commander Sakaguchi is right,”
said another. “If we can control at least a portion of the rift,
the Hameji won’t risk a full-scale advance. So long as we can
threaten to cut them off in their rear, we can choose the time and
place of the next engagement.”

Katsuichi nodded, while a murmur of both
agreement and dissent rose up around the edges of the table. “All
good points,” he said. “It’s certainly in the best interest of our
people to take the fight to the Hameji, and not wait idly for them
to bring it to us.”

Admiral Uematsu took a deep
breath and leaned forward. “Your Highness,” he said, “I hope you
understand what you’re going up against. Our
Katana
-class cruisers are barely four
hundred meters long—the Hameji capital ships average more than a
kilometer. The
Mikawa
is equipped with four projectile missile launchers, six
plasma cannons, twelve laser-stars, fifty tactical nukes, and five
wings of drone fighters. The smallest Hameji frigate boasts an
arsenal at least twice that.”


Then what we lack in armament,”
said Commander Ishihara, “we’ll more than make up for in speed and
maneuverability.”


At best, that will be
difficult,” said Uematsu. “A typical Hameji battleship has at least
four times the reactor capacity of the largest Federation capital
ships. A full suite of tactical FTL drives ensures that they can
overwhelm their targets from the periphery of the battle by
launching warheads through jumpspace. Only rarely do they resort to
a full-scale frontal assault—their preferred tactic is to
co-ordinate a nuclear fusillade and wipe out their enemies in one
swift blow.”

Katsuichi nodded, breathing in
sharply through his teeth. Was this how Admiral Genjiro had felt
when he’d learned of the Hameji advance?
No one has ever defeated a Hameji
war-fleet in open battle.


I am sure it will be difficult,”
he said at length. “However, I also have full faith in the
capabilities and the spirit of our men.”


Sir,” said each of the
commanders, nodding in respect. Their faces were solemn, yet the
energy in the room was palpable.


It seems that the best way to
defend our people is to hold to Admiral Genjiro’s strategy and join
with the Federation forces at the front. First, we’ll rendezvous
with Commander Hideyoshi. I’m sure he has better intelligence than
we do on the current situation in Gamma Sector. Once that is
complete, we’ll make the assessment whether to advance or fall
back.”


Very well, sir,” said Admiral
Uematsu. “Shall we leave any of our forces behind to guard
Shinihon?”

Katsuichi surveyed his men. To his great
satisfaction, they watched him with anxious eyes, as if afraid of
being asked to remain behind while their colleagues had the honor
of fighting alongside their emperor.


No,” he said. “Our forces will
do no good back here. If we are to win this war, we must commit
ourselves wholeheartedly, no matter how precarious the
course.”


Sir!” said Commander Ishihara,
joining with several of the others in an eager salute. “We will
follow you to the gates of Hell itself!”


Then ready the fleet,” said
Katsuichi. “Let us depart for the rift at once.”

 

* * * * *

 

Rina crawled on her knees and elbows through
the narrow air ducts. Her skin-suit, which had already dried out
from the storm, padded her arms and legs and kept her from making
any noticeable noise. She wasn’t in a hurry—she was never in a
hurry. Patience was the skill that separated hit men and thugs from
highly trained, highly disciplined assassins.

Up ahead lay a branch point, where the bright
infrared glow told her she’d find an opening. Sure enough, the duct
bent downward to an air vent, opening up to a courtyard below. A
cluster of leaves off to one side told her that the drop to the
floor was fairly substantial—at least eight or ten meters. Still,
the lack of any noise told her it was safe to climb down.

Moving swiftly, she unscrewed the cover to
the air vent and slid it aside. She then reached to the smooth
surface of the vaulted courtyard ceiling and attached a clear
suction cup, with a cable extending to the belt at her waist. In
one smooth motion, she swung herself out so that she was dangling
from the ceiling. After righting herself, she reached up and pulled
the cover back over the vent. To a casual observer, it would appear
exactly as it had before.

As she lowered herself soundlessly to the
floor, she couldn’t help but notice the rust-red wall tiles and
Terra-cotta bricks lining the walkway. The trees weren’t the young
oaks or maples that she was expecting, but short, ancient olive
trees, their trunks thick and knotted with age. An arched patio
wrapped around the outside wall, with a small pool in the center. A
small school of goldfish showed up on the infrared as dark blue
dots drifting aimlessly beneath the surface.

After retrieving her cord and securing it to
her belt, Rina pulled up the hood of her skin-suit and surveyed the
place with her natural eyes. Glowlamps set in niches between the
arches illuminated the place with a soft light that the skylights
could not provide, now that the city was submerged. The smell of
dill and sage met her nose, while grapes dangled from vines
covering a small grotto on the other side. It all felt wonderfully
peaceful, an oasis in the midst of a dark and violent universe.

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