Auberon (The Jessica Keller Chronicles Book 1) (14 page)

He smiled as the room lights came back up.

“So, gentlemen,” he said quietly, warmly, friendly, “what do we know?”

The two men were Mutt and Jeff. The Medical Doctor was short, rotund, and near–sighted. The Doctor of Science was rail–thin, very tall, and fidgeted constantly.

The Medical Doctor spoke first.

“There have been no demonstrable illness clusters that we can directly relate to the event,” he said tiredly. It looked like he had had about two hours of sleep in the last week.

“However,” he continued, “visits to emergency rooms and clinics are up nearly fourteen percent since the news broke. Hospitals are nearly overwhelmed. Thank you, by the way, for sending so much of your Fleet’s medical staff down to assist. It has made the workload manageable.”

Emmerich nodded. Dealing with professionals was so much more pleasant than politicians.

He turned to the Doctor of Science expectantly. The man flushed with embarrassment.

“Whatever they have done,” the man said angrily, “it has managed to evade all of our tests. Everything we could think of has come back negative. So much so that we have pushed the very limits of science and rationality to come up with new theories. Have they done this anywhere else?”

Emmerich shook his head. “They have not,” he said. “On the one hand, unfortunate because we don’t have any other situations against which to compare. Fortunate, because there is only this one place.”

“For now,” the Medical Doctor interjected. “While there have been no symptoms, as yet, we should consider the eventuality of enforcing a quarantine on
2218 Svati Prime
, just to be safe.”

“It has been nearly two months, gentlemen,” Emmerich said. “Even given my limited training, I cannot imagine a bio–weapon or disease that could have successfully hidden itself from all of modern medicine, and then would break out suddenly enough to be a threat. We will continue to be careful, but I do not think that is necessary. What else?”

“Reports of greater than normal aurora borealis have come in from everywhere,” the scientist said. “Again, nothing that stands up to scrutiny, but the general populace is not particularly mollified by scientists telling them not to worry. And the Governor is a populist with an anti–scientific bent.”

“Please let my staff know if the Governor presents any problems or impediments to your work,” Emmerich noted dryly. “I look forward to addressing them if they do. Personally.”

The two men blinked at him, and then glanced at each other. Emmerich could see evil grins begin to grow, carefully hidden.

“What else?” he said.

“If you will turn to page 184,” the scientist began…

Chapter XXIV

Date of the Republic February 4, 393 Edge of the C’Xindo system

Time to get to work.

Jessica smiled as the scanner board came live and everyone on the Flag Bridge engaged.

Auberon’s Pilot, Nada Zupan, had dropped them exactly on target, two light hours out from the Imperial Sector Capital and well above the plane of the ecliptic.
CR–264
and
Rajput
dropped into space right behind them.

Even here, the area was crowded. Several signals indicated sensor buoys lighting up as the squadron were located. The squadron would be identified in fairly short order, but Jessica’s plan involved them only staying here for exactly six minutes, just long enough to get a good image of the planet, and they would outrun the news of their arrival.

The Flag Bridge was smaller than the main bridge, down a deck and tucked in closer to the ship’s core. There was a big holographic projector in the middle of a conference table, plus space for the squadron’s various commanders to be projected if they weren’t physically present. Most weren’t.

Right now, Jež’s electronic image sat across from her, between Command Centurion Alber’ d’Maine on the bridge of
Rajput
and Command Centurion Tomas Kigali aboard
CR–264
.

Her Science Officer, Daniel Giroux, was also present via image, tucked into his corner of the bridge. Right now, he was furiously pushing buttons and dialing gauges as he worked to absorb all the information the sensors were bringing in.

The only other person physically present at the table with Jessica was her Flag Centurion, although a few other crewmembers sat at duty stations around the outside of the room, ready to step in or answer questions as necessary.

Jessica studied the image before her, watching fuzzy edges refine quickly as data came into real–time from rough calculations.

C’Xindo
was a normal world. It was half green and half blue, reflecting a mix of continents and oceans, but otherwise unremarkable. It had been colonized thousands of years ago, during the Concord Era, but largely lost during the Crash.

In the thousand–odd years since humans had rediscovered starflight and expanded outward, it had been functionally recolonized, growing enough to make it a sector capital when the
Fribourg Empire
pushed its boundaries this far.

Useful, habitable stars were thin out here, but neither
Fribourg
nor
Aquitaine
had put in much effort.
C’Xindo
had a population of around forty million, mostly farmers, with only a few cities, none of them large, or impressive, or interesting.

It did have a nice space station in orbit that served as the Governor’s Official Residence and Palace. Between that and being the sector capital, it was better protected than
2218 Svati Prime
had been.

That was one of the reasons Jessica had avoided making it the first target. It was more fun letting the fringe worlds panic and demand protection that might normally have to come from here. Maybe, just maybe, someone had made a mistake and stripped the local cupboard bare.

One could hope.

She turned to her Science Officer as a large signal in orbit near the Palace appeared in the image.

“Giroux,” she asked, “what is that?”

“Working,” he said, not even looking up.

“That, commander,” came the voice of
CR–264’s
Command Centurion, Tomas Kigali, “is an Imperial BattleTug. Probably the old
Langschwert
, given the location.”

“Really?” she said with surprise. “I haven’t seen one of them since Second Year Tactics Class.”

Kigali shrugged. He was a tall blond man, thin and rakish. She knew he had set records in a personal yacht for distances sailed and navigational accuracy. He was a perfect fit for a long–sailing, up–gunned Revenue Cutter that might spend years in space between refits.

“They don’t have many, and that’s the only one I know of on this frontier,” he replied. “Normally they guard important military installations. Maybe someone over there was a touch frightened?”

“Can we take him?” Jessica cast into the group.

The other Command Centurion, d’Maine off of
Rajput
, spoke up. He was a dark–complected man, generally dour and serious. Also a good fit in command, for a cramped heavy destroyer that didn’t like to make epic voyages.

“Depends on if their Captain’s any good,” he muttered. “Firepower like a battlecruiser on a good day. Maneuverability of a small planet. We get the drop on him and get out fast, should be doable.”

“Since we don’t have a bomb to hit the planet with this time, my plan doesn’t change, gentlemen,” Jessica announced. “Hard and fast. We’ll launch everything, make one solid strafing run, and then run for the edge of the gravity well. Depending on how it goes, we may circle back for more, or we may just flit out and go hit the next target. If the BattleTug is here, he’s not anywhere else, and we’ll get anywhere faster than that old tub could.”

She considered the layout of the world. The BattleTug was in a higher orbit and moving faster than the station. They might even be able to catch the two on opposite sides of the planet from each other, pick one, and hammer it while ignoring the other.

“Gentlemen, your orders,” she said, making eye contact with everyone once as she spoke. “
Rajput
in the van, with
CR–264
flying close escort on the lower flank. Auberon will come in behind. We’ll time the heavy fighter craft to make their pass when you do. The melee fighters will either escort
Auberon
, or close with the strike, depending on what the Imperials do. Questions?”

“What happens if someone is disabled, sir?” Kigali asked.

“If you or
Cayenne
can rescue them safely, we’ll do so,” she replied. “Otherwise, they get to be prisoners of war for a while, until the next exchange. This is just a raid. And the fourth one of these. What we’re up to does not constitute an invasion, as much as they might think otherwise.”

“Roger that,” Kigali said, his image blanking out as he prepared to transition his ship back to Jumpspace.

Chapter XXV

Date of the Republic February 4, 393 C’Xindo system

Jouster
launched first when they came out of Jumpspace. It was his Flight Wing, his people, his rules. And he would lead by example. Even for crazy people like Commander Keller.

He did one fast visual scan in all directions as he emerged from the bow of
Auberon
, checking visually for trouble instead of just relying on his instruments and sensors. It was the best habit have, out here on the sharp end of the stick.

Across the keel of the carrier,
da Vinci’s
P–4
Outrider
launched simultaneously.

Her scout fighter was built up from the same hull design as his M–5
Harpoon
, but with only the single Type–1 weapon forward on the nose instead of his triple mounts that parallaxed.

It was a scout, not a melee fighter. One of her reactors and both missile rails had been pulled, for the bulb of a scanner poking out like a pregnant belly underneath.

They always launched this way, the two of them leading the way. He accelerated forward slowly, knowing she would do the same. Behind, the rest of the wing and the big Gunship would be pouring out into space, down the launch rails or out the bay doors.

It’s what Strike Carriers did. Get in close, drop enough mobile firepower on the target to take on a battlecruiser, and go to town.

Time to party.

A blue light appeared on the console in front of him. That would be
Auberon
telling him that everyone was launched and away. He waited for confirmation from his people.

“
Jouster
, this is
Southbound
,” Marta Eka’s voice came over the comm. “All three Wings are forming up now.”

Jouster
smiled and glanced back over his shoulder at all the lethal metal strung out. Strike Carriers were supposed to send out three flights in a curve, with the Command Wing in the center and the other two back and on each flank. They were also supposed to be flying nine fighters of the same type.

On Auberon, pilot, we do things different. Learn them if you want to survive.

His Wing was on the left, his two wingmates,
Uller
and
Vienna
, stacked above and behind him like stair steps. Over and nearly at the edge of vision, he could see
Southbound
coming into the same position, with
Ironside
and
Bitter Kitten
layered back. Between them,
da Vinci
appeared almost lonesome, until you looked farther back and saw the two big S–11
Orcas
; slow, armoured, medium–assault saturation bombers, and the even bigger and meaner Gunship,
Necromancer
.

Imperials coming at them were always expecting opponents on the same plane as them. Facing a wall of fire was just one more way to throw them off.

And it worked.

“
Jouster
, this is
da Vinci
,” came the call. “
Rajput
and
CR–264
are out front and confirm
Auberon’s
signal. Defenders agree with the previous estimate, with one notable exception. Somebody brought a BattleTug to the dance.”

“Are we still targeting the Palace?” he started making adjustments to follow the line
Rajput
was taking ahead of them, and come in over the top at maximum speed for a surprise.

“Affirmative,
Jouster
,” the scout pilot responded. “That Tug got caught pants around ankles.”

“Squadron, this is
Auberon
,” came the call from the new Flag Centurion. “Apparently, today was some local holiday celebration. It appears from the unsecured comm traffic that a great many important people were over at the Palace and are trying to get home now. Consider anything that moves a target of opportunity to decapitate multiple targets, as scanners show a number of small, private yachts docked at the station. Happy hunting.”

Jouster
smiled. It would be total chaos down there if the station had to positively identify every target before shooting at it, especially at the speed they would be coming through.

That gave him an idea.

“
da Vinci
,” he said, “what’s the tug doing now?”

“Stand by,” he heard her respond.

On his scanner,
Jouster
watched a pair of defense fighters moving in to land on the station instead of moving out to engage them.

They hadn’t been loaded with fireworks instead of missiles, had they? Not ready to actually fight? Awful bad planning on someone’s part, if that was the case.

Up ahead, the scanner lit up as
Rajput
sent six missiles downrange in as many seconds.
CR–264
moved below her into a proper escort position, and began to engage inbound missiles from the station and a small escort gunship sitting nearby in a defensive position.

Nobody had expected party crashers today.

“
Jouster
,”
da Vinci
came back to him. “Tug’s engines were cold and are just firing up now. She will be unable to change orbits to catch us coming out with anything but long range deflection shots. Suppose they’re good enough to go Parthian on us?”