Read Fear God and Dread Naught Online
Authors: Christopher Nuttall
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #First Contact, #Galactic Empire, #Military, #Space Fleet, #Space Marine, #Space Opera
“That’s all they have?” Farhome asked, wonder tinging his voice. “This is the front line. When we left Keppler 62, there were only two cruisers left in the system, and that is their other front line against the Mrowry. If what you say is true, they are down to their final seven ships.”
“Yeah, that’s it. If they lose this next battle here, they are pretty much done as a race. There won’t be anything to keep the Shaitans from rolling up their last couple of systems and exterminating them.”
“They need to mine the stargate,” Farhome said. “Maybe tow an asteroid or 10 in front of it, too. They can’t let the Shaitans into the system.” He paused for a second, then asked, “How soon can we expect the
Vella Gulf
to get—”
The door to their room opened, and a low-ranking Ssselipsssiss entered. “It’sss started,” he announced. “The enemy isss through the gate. Captain Skrelleth demandsss you attend him on the bridge.”
Calvin turned back to Farhome. “Not soon enough.”
Chapter Two
Emperor Yazhak the Third’s Estate, Grrrnow, 61 Virginis, December 12, 2021
Emperor Yazhak turned away from the large bay window. Behind him, a large rock formation could be seen several miles away. The massive sandstone monolith glowed red in the morning sun.
“That is worse than I feared,” the large felinoid finally said.
“Why is that?” Captain James Sheppard, the commanding officer of the Terran ship
Vella Gulf
, asked.
“We have guessed for some time the Ssselipsssiss were fighting another race, and they were probably losing. Although we have been at war with them for some time, they recently began pushing us hard. It was like they
had
to break through; there was a desperation we had never seen before. Then, all of a sudden, they stopped. Although a welcome respite, the absence of war was eerie; we wondered what new stratagem they might be working on.”
“And now we know they stopped attacking because they’re out of ships,” Captain Sheppard interjected. When he had taken the
Vella Gulf
into their territory, the lizards only had three ships guarding their side of the stargate…and only one was battleship-sized.
“That worries me even more,” the emperor continued. “If their enemy is strong enough to destroy their entire fleet, something we were never able to do, I am worried about who they will attack once they are finished with the Ssselipsssiss. Our territory is next, unless they advance on Terra.”
“Which isn’t a great choice in my book,” Captain Sheppard said.
“Not only has their enemy destroyed the Ssselipsssiss fleet, they also seem to be taking the planets just as fast,” Lieutenant Rrower added. The young Mrowry was his civilization’s liaison to the
Vella Gulf
. “I saw one of their maps, grandfather, and they have lost their capital planet; they only have three systems remaining.”
“Based on your conversation with them, you believe their enemy to be the Shaitans you fought at Golirion?” Emperor Yazhak asked.
“Yes, it sounds like them,” Captain Sheppard answered. “Their ships can jump out of our universe, and they use time-based weapons. If it isn’t the Shaitans, it is a race nearly identical to them. Personally, I hope it
is
them; I don’t think we can afford to be fighting two of them at the same time; one is more than enough!”
“Truth,” the emperor agreed. “So, what did the Ssselipsssiss want?”
“They want us to go to the Shaitans’ home world and blow it up.”
“Well, that seems simple enough,” Emperor Yazhak said with a chuckle. “Did they have any information on where this planet might be, and how you were supposed to destroy it?”
“They have an idea where it is,” Captain Sheppard replied. “It’s a long way behind enemy lines, and getting further as the Shaitans advance. As for how we blow it up, I don’t think they care; they just want it done. They are desperate for a little breathing room.”
“What did they offer for taking on this mission?”
“They were very vague on what they would, or even what they could, do,” Captain Sheppard replied. “We got an awful lot of ‘maybes,’ but nothing very definite.” He shook his head. “We didn’t see a replicator in the system where we met with them, and they have lost most of their other systems. Honestly, I don’t think they have much to give. Our choice is pretty simple—we can either help them out of the goodness of our hearts, or we can watch them be exterminated.”
“A few months ago, I’m not sure I would have minded watching them go,” Captain Paul ‘Night’ Train interjected. The Terran Space Marine captain was the executive officer of the platoon Calvin commanded. “However, the Shaitans are a much worse enemy…and the Ssselipsssiss are holding Lieutenant Commander Hobbs hostage until we return.”
“Ah, I see,” the emperor said. “I wondered where he was but was afraid to ask in case he’d been killed.”
“No, he was fine the last time we saw him,” Captain Sheppard explained, “but the Ssselipsssiss held onto him for fear we would return with a large Mrowry fleet and wipe them out. I think they were worried you would attack from this side if you knew how poorly defended their side of the stargate was.”
“There is something to be said for that,” the emperor replied, scratching his chin. “I certainly would like to get Typhon back from them…Don’t worry, I’m not going to,” he added when he saw the Terrans bristle. “Calvin has done just as much for us; I am not going to blithely sacrifice him. Besides, you don’t win wars by throwing away your hero spirits; you win wars by supporting them. Calvin must have approved of helping them, or he wouldn’t have stayed with the Ssselipsssiss?”
“Yes, he did,” Captain Sheppard replied. “He also believes the Shaitans are the greater enemy; he stayed both as a hostage and to help the Ssselipsssiss with their defenses. Although the lizzies have been fighting the Shaitans for a while, they don’t really have much of a clue as to how to fight them. The enemy is so different from what they’re used to, the only thing the Ssselipsssiss have been good at is losing. Calvin is going to try to shore up their defenses; maybe it will buy them some time.”
Bridge,
Harvest of Flesh
, Sssellississ System, December 12, 2021
“The enemy is here, Terran,” Captain Skrelleth announced as Calvin walked onto the bridge. Calvin had put on his aviator’s space suit, but carried the helmet under an arm.
“What is the status, sir?”
“As you indicated would happen, the enemy vessels came through the portal and immediately disappeared.”
“Yes sir, they jumped back to their own universe.”
“Whatever. The fact remains that they are loose in this system. I have told the other ships’ captains to return to orbit. We cannot allow this planet to fall. There are more of my race here than the other two systems combined. We must hold.”
“How many enemy ships are there?”
“At least three of the cruiser-sized vessels and four of the destroyer-sized vessels entered the system. I know from experience all of them carry their time-based weapons.”
“Damn,” Calvin said, shaking his head. “That’s more than I’ve seen at one time. What defenses does the planet have?”
“Not much,” Captain Skrelleth said; “however, the moon has both missile and laser systems on its surface. We also have a few orbital missile pods we can use. By pulling all of our forces back to orbit, it will limit the number of directions from which the enemy can attack and will concentrate our defenses to where we can hopefully get some shots at them.”
“Gate emergence!” one of th
e
Ssselipsssiss technicians exclaimed. “It is a type of ship I haven’t seen before. It is battleship-sized. There is a second one…now a third.”
“Images on screen,” the captain ordered.
“Coming up now, sir!” the same technician replied.
The front viewer changed to show a shape Calvin recognized. “That isn’t a battleship,” he advised; “it is a Jotunn
Raptor
-class battlecruiser.”
“Jotunn?” Captain Skrelleth asked. “What is a Jotunn and what are the capabilities of their ships?”
“The Jotunn is a race of giant-sized humanoids, nearly three times my size. Their vessels are over-sized, as you can see. They are very strong, and their weapons are quite powerful.”
“How will they attack?”
“I have fought a combined battlegroup of Shaitans and Jotunn before. The Jotunn don’t believe in finesse; they will come straight at you and try to destroy your biggest vessels first. Meanwhile, the Shaitans will hover on the edges of the battle, picking off your most vulnerable ships. If they can separate a ship from the group, they will destroy it before coming back to pick off another one.”
“Just like a pack of colvargs,” the captain replied.
“I don’t know what those are,” Calvin replied, “but their tactics are very effective. It will be difficult to win this fight.” Difficult? Calvin shook his head. This battle was unwinnable. After all he’d been through, he was going to die on a lizard ship.
“How can we defeat this joint assault?” Captain Skrelleth asked.
“As much as it hurts me to say it,” Calvin said, “you need to write off this planet and pull back to the next one. That way, you can fight them one at a time as they come through the stargate—”
“Unacceptable,” Captain Skrelleth interrupted. “The planet must be saved.”
“You can’t win this battle!” Calvin exclaimed. “You may destroy some of their ships, but you are outclassed; in the end, your ships will be destroyed, and the remaining enemy ships will have free rein to do whatever they wish with the planet. The only chance you have is to save the two planets you have remaining. Perhaps some of the civilians there can be pulled back to a Terran or Mrowry planet and resettled there, ensuring the continuity of your race. Whatever you do, though, you’ve
got
to withdraw.
You can’t win this fight!
”
“If this fight is unwinnable, then we will die,” the captain said. “This ship was built on the planet below, and most of us have families there.
We will not leave them behind.
We will stand and fight, dying if we must, but we
will
win in the end. We have to; our families are counting on us, and we can do no lessss.” He pushed a button and the tactical plot reappeared on the front screen. “We will stand and fight.”
Admiral's Gambit Cover Blurb (Spineward Sectors Series, Book Two of Ten)
by Joshua Wachter
When he set course for 'civilized space,' Jason Montagne thought he'd finally be able to take a deep breath and hand off sole responsibility for patrolling the border of known Space to the 'real' Confederation fleet. Unfortunately, things 'back home' in Sector 25 were in even more turmoil than he could have possibly imagined.
When an old friend of the family is caught red-handed in the act of piracy at Easy Haven, and is armed with a ship that outclasses Jason’s
Lucky Clover
by every measure except sheer bulk and ability to absorb damage, the Little Admiral is faced with a choice that could have consequences felt throughout the Spine.
The continuing Bug Menace hangs over the Tracto System like a genocidal plague, and piracy is on the rise as news of the Imperial withdrawal spreads like wildfire among the eight Confederate sectors which make up Admiral Montagne’s neck of the woods.
With the border going up in flames, Jason and the crew of the
Lucky Clover
will have to deal with a whole host of new problems including slipping morale, ingenious pirates, backstabbing cousins, a family reunion you wouldn’t believe, and the loss of those the Little Admiral has come to rely upon most.
Can even the infamous Montagne Magic be strong enough to keep this ship from breaking apart in an orgy of violence? With pressure mounting on every side and quickly running out of places to turn for help, it will be a miracle if he can get them out of it in one piece.
If he does, it will be forever remembered as the Admiral’s Gambit.
Chapter 1: Catching Up
My name is Jason Montagne Vekna, although I’m not sure if my new wife agrees with that or thinks my new last name should be Zosime. It’s a long story. I never really cared for the 'Vekna' part, so it wouldn’t be any skin off my nose to switch it out but it might cause problems back on the home world, and we had plenty of those right now. So I was deliberately not asking her opinion.
Anyway, I’m currently the Admiral of the ever-so-proudly named Confederation Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet, or MSP as I like to call it. Of course, I’m only an Honorary Admiral in my home world’s SDF or System Defense Force, and was forwarded to be the Acting Admiral of the MSP. But I try not to tell anyone about that little technicality.
One week ago, the Imperial Admiral in command of the MSP resigned on orders from his Triumvir, and the Empire as a whole abandoned the eight Confederation Sectors comprising what we natives like to call 'The Spine,' or 'The Spineward Sectors.'
Before becoming the official figurehead of the MSP nine months ago, I was a minor member of a nearly irrelevant Provincial Dynasty. The Royal Family on my home world answered to the Caprian Parliament, not the other way around, and the Parliament held our purse strings. So generally, we acted as some sort of glorified galactic butlers, wining and dining anyone Parliament needed to impress or fob off in an appropriately decedent style.
Before leaving, Rear Admiral Arnold Janeski of the Imperial Rim fleet turned command over to me and I proceeded to…well, I picked up a pirate ship or three - again, a long story.
I also saved a beautiful native woman from horrible space-faring Bugs. Unfortunately, I was busy ogling her half-naked neighbor and there was a cultural misunderstanding. She thought that by giving her a sword with which to cut herself and the rest of the Bug prisoners free (coincidentally, including her busty neighbor) that I was proposing some form of shotgun marriage wherein if she didn’t take my sword and accept my offer of marriage, she and everyone else would die a gruesome death.
I, on the other hand, had no clue about this and was only trying to do the heroic thing. In other words, I had given her my only weapon and, as a result, was being slowly overwhelmed by ravenous insects. The very same ones that were trying to eat us all alive, regardless of potential or real wardrobe malfunctions.
It's safe to say that as far as romantic meetings go, it was hate at first sight. She wanted me dead, and as far as I was concerned, she had let other people die and even tried to kill me by deliberately not lifting a finger to help anyone, all after I gave her my only sword.
A series of further misunderstandings followed, but when I found out that a quarter of a million settlers I had rescued couldn’t land on her planet without local permission, and couldn’t stay in orbit without dying of suffocation…well, let's just say I decided to go through with the marriage anyway.
By this point, we were both generally aware of the situation, and still feeling things (if not each other) out. She was no longer trying to kill me, at least. Instead, she was now determined that I survive long enough to ‘fulfill my obligations,’ which I took to mean I needed to save the entire population of her world from being eaten by semi-intelligent (and officially non-sentient, according to the Empire's propaganda machine) space-faring Bugs in slow-drive ships.
After that, I assumed she planned to dump me like a bad habit. I was just hoping it happened before she met my mother so I could sweep the whole thing under the rug. As it was, she had recruited around eighteen hundred super-sized native warriors to my 'banner,’ although they sure seemed to listen to her a lot more than me, and she was determined to stick to my side like glue at this point.
In the meantime, I had a Fleet consisting of one ship because, as far as I knew, in the two weeks since everything else had fallen apart, the fleet had fallen apart too and returned home, each ship determined to protect its own home world rather than uphold its obligations to the Confederacy's charter of mutual defense. This mass egress left no one to prevent piracy, or protect merchants and other civilian ships. Like the ones carrying the quarter of a million settlers we had rescued from pirates.
Chapter 5: Into the Fray!
Soon our plan was in motion and the pirate cruiser separated from our hull. Behind it was a small swarm of shuttles filled with newly minted Lancers; barely trained to walk in their power armor without falling down, hiding in its shadow and thirsty for blood. Who said putting a man that Parliament considered a Royalist Fanatic (like the Lancer Colonel) in command of a bunch of clueless but bloodthirsty natives was a bad idea?
As for myself, I was starting to have second thoughts. Particularly when word reached me that Akantha was on one of those shuttles.
I heard it was a feeding frenzy down there as Lancers argued over who should have the first chance at action. She must have gone down and gotten caught up in all the excitement. The longer I knew her, the more savage she seemed to become.
But there was no way to recall the shuttles without tipping our hand, so I was left with nothing but worry. I told myself it was only for the Settlers back on Tracto VI, the people who might lose their homes if she died. I even believed myself for once. But all of my rationalizations didn’t get rid of the small aching pit in my stomach at the sight of her going into a battle I would be helpless to join. Not unless things went very wrong and I finished with the Imperials first.
We’d actually timed things so that even though we had the farthest to go, the
Lucky Clover
would get within range of the Imperial Cruiser first. Hopefully, the whole system would be focused on the little drama playing out around the fleet of Constructor ships, buying crucial seconds for the small fleet of shuttles carrying my wife and nearly six hundred armed and angry (did I mention power-armored?) Lancers.
Because there had been so many volunteers, the Lancer Colonel had stationed another group of six hundred Lancers on the hull of the pirate ship, just in case reinforcements were needed somewhere along the way. In total, about half my Lancer force of twenty four hundred was deployed on this little side mission.
I still had about twelve hundred untrained Lancers, many of them former Promethean settlers who weren’t as enthusiastic about attacking their former countrymen. Even if those same countrymen had left their settler brothers and sisters to die in cold space.
I wouldn’t say the new Promethean Lancers were particularly forgiving about the situation, but I think the thought of facing a cousin, friend or someone you knew, just because they happened to serve under an awful captain, probably made them less eager to get out there and mix it up than they otherwise might have been.
Now there was nothing to do but wait. Did I mention that I hate waiting? Watching our ship creep closer and closer to the Imperial, and switching back and forth to watch the same thing happen with the Promethean Medium Cruisers, was maddening.
“We’re getting close enough to the Imperial that they are bound to notice-” Officer Tremblay started.
“We’re being hailed by the Imperial Strike Cruiser,” exclaimed the Ex-Com Tech. “They’re demanding we back off or they’ll blow the Constructors.”
“Put the Imperials on screen,” I instructed, ready for battle.
“You’re live, Admiral,” said the Ex-Com tech.
I straightened myself in the Throne. “Unidentified vessel, this is MSP
Lucky Clover
, Admiral Jason Montagne commanding. Identify yourself or be destroyed,” I said in my most imperious tone.
The First Officer’s head whipped around. “This isn’t part of the script,” he whispered hoarsely.
I smiled grimly, maintaining focus on the main screen's pickup point.
A tall, white-skinned man with well-bred Imperial features appeared on the screen. “Move that filthy old space bucket away from my ship or the Constructors get it,” said the man, “Imperial Commander Marcus Cornwallis, out.”
“Marcus Cornwallis, of the same Cornwallis’s as Rear Admiral Charles Cornwallis,” I demanded, deliberately hardening my face.
“I won’t warn you again,” said the Imperial Officer with cool professionalism.
“A man of the same family who bombarded my home world fifty years ago,” I continued, deliberately raising my voice, “in the process, killing my father and most of my extended family? That Cornwallis,” by this time, I was shouting at the screen.
The first crack appeared in the Imperial Commander’s features. “I don’t know what you are referring to but, let me assure you, familias inside the Empire do not direct the actions of its naval vessels.”
“So you admit it,” I exclaimed, finding myself dangerously close to the line between playing a character and becoming actually enraged. I suppose coming face-to-face with a member of the family directly responsible for my own's near-complete destruction was enough to blur certain lines.
The Imperial Commander looked nonplused, “Don’t you understand? Back off, or I’ll blow the Constructors to kingdom come,” he said smugly, as though speaking to a child.
“To Hades with the Constructors!” I was absolutely livid, and leapt out of my chair. “Helmsman,” I barked, turning to that section of the bridge, “set a course to put us between the Imperial Cruiser and the Constructor.” I then turned toward the tactical section. “First Officer, instruct gunnery to fire as she bears. I want one broadside firing at the Imperials and another into the Constructors,” I roared, feeling the veins in my neck and forehead bulging. Turning back to the Imperial Commander, who was looking at me like one would a crazy person, I sneered, “I’d rather see them destroyed than fall into the hands of a Cornwallis!”
“You’re insane,” exclaimed the Imperial Commander, turning to someone outside the main pick up. “Communications, get me System Command and tell that moron LeGodat to warn off this crazy person before I’m forced to destroy his ship,” said the Imperial Commander, speaking quickly and looking suddenly red-faced.
“LeGodat and his simplistic, we-all-have-to-go-along-to-get-along protestations,” I scoffed, thinking this was the perfect time to throw some more wood on the fire. “I outrank the man and have taken control of all mobile Confederation Forces in Easy Haven, for the duration.”
“Demon Murphy take you for a fool,” snarled the Imperial Command, “I won’t let you ruin everything.” The Imperial Commander turned to his bridge crew, “Light the engines and put us between the Constructors and this rogue warship.”
The Ex-Com on my bridge chimed in, “Sir! System Command and the Imperials are both requesting we accept a conference call with LeGodat.”
“Oh, whatever,” I said, waving my hand in our patented royal dismissive way. “Put him on. I’m curious to know if he’s scrounged up any more vessels for my fleet yet.”
“You’re going to get us all killed,” said Tremblay, looking both pale and furious. Oh, how I love to see that man squirm.
“Death in the pursuit of Honor is no death all,” I said, trying for my most pompous. Hanging around these bloodthirsty natives with their strange honor code was giving me some truly wild inspiration.
“Sir!” exclaimed Tremblay and LeGodat at the same time.
Seeing another person to carry the torch of reason, Tremblay stepped back they all looked at LeGodat.
The Imperial cut in. “Who is this stooge I see on my view screen, System Commander?” demanded the Imperial Commander. “Instruct him to vacate this area of space at once, or I will destroy more than just these Constructor ships,” threatened the young Cornwallis.