The Excalibur (Space Lore Book 2) (26 page)

“Yes, sir?” Spring said, feeling as though the Llyushin transports were no longer stationed just outside the tent but were millions of miles away.

“Come back and join us, won’t you?”

The funny thing was that now Spring’s throat really did seem to be impossibly dry. “Water. I need water.”

“We’ll get you water in just a minute.”

The lieutenant took him by the arm and ushered him back to the desk.

The other lieutenant said, “Oh, here we go,” and flicked a switch.

A second later, a holographic image of the Griffin Fire’s cockpit appeared in front of them. Vere CasterLan, the leader of their kingdom, was sitting in the pilot’s seat. The lieutenant, not knowing who Ensign Spring had been ordered to contact, stammered a greeting. Beside him, all the air left Spring’s chest.

“What do you want?” Vere snapped, flashes of light visible through the Griffin Fire’s windows.

For a moment, the lieutenant was speechless. He was actually talking to the leader of the CasterLan Kingdom. His family would never believe it.

“Shields at full,” Vere shouted to her copilot.

At first, the lieutenant didn’t understand what she meant because he had no idea where she was or what she was doing. Then he realized she was under attack and that the flashes of light were laser bursts meant to destroy her ship.

At the edge of the hologram, a reptile’s giant claw reached over and tapped a series of commands into a panel beside Vere’s seat. Both of them, pilot and copilot, were wearing space armor. Another human male was shouting something that neither Spring nor the lieutenant could understand. The light outside the cockpit came into focus. It was a frigate in the middle of recharging its weapons systems.

The holographic image of Vere winced as another burst of light flashed by her side.

“I need the shields right now.”

The reptile growled and poked one finger at a time, making sure he got the command right. Vere gripped the ship’s throttle and slammed it forward. Another flash of light. An explosion. This time just behind where the ship had been.

“That was close,” Vere said to her copilot. Then realizing a comms channel was still open, she added, “Say something or I’m closing this link.”

“Ma’am, I’m here with Westmoreland. I’m—”

Another burst of light. “Speak fast.”

She turned the ship just in time for another laser streak pass by the Griffin Fire.

Westmoreland stepped forward so that he too would appear on the image in Vere’s cockpit. Seeing him, Vere asked how much longer it would be until the ships arrived at the Excalibur.

“We’re sending them right now,” Westmoreland said.

As the words were spoken, he reached down and put a hand on Ensign Spring’s shoulder. Westmoreland was an old man, slender, and yet the hand that gripped Spring’s shoulder felt impossibly strong, like it could rip the Ensign’s arm right out of its socket.

Vere punched the console to her side. “Just now? You mean no one is on their way out here to help us?”

The hand on Spring’s shoulder gripped even tighter.

Vere’s copilot growled something that no one in the comms tent could understand.

“I see them,” Vere said in response. “Two more ships approaching.” Then, to Westmoreland, she added, “I need every available ship, every available engineer, every man and woman to my coordinates. Now!”

Spring gulped for air. Looking behind him at the tent’s opening, he doubted there was any chance he could sprint for the exit and get away before he was blasted in the back.

“They’ll be there,” Westmoreland told her.

A warning sensor sounded in the Griffin Fire’s cockpit. Vere threw the ship into a spin. A string of laser blasts flew past the window. Vere pulled back on the controls as hard as she could. As Westmoreland and the others watched, the stars outside the Griffin Fire’s cockpit revolved as the ship kept turning upward until it was flying in the opposite direction and heading directly toward the vessels that were attacking it.

Traskk growled.

“Proton torpedoes, now!” she yelled.

Traskk hissed something and Vere cringed. No one in the comms tent had any way of knowing the copilot had just told her they were out of proton torpedoes because she had used them all to destroy the Excalibur.

Without looking toward the video feed, Vere shouted, “I’ve freed the Excalibur Armada but there won’t be any ships for us if you don’t send help right now. As in, this very second.” Spit was flying out of her mouth as she screamed.

Then a burst of light flashed in front of the cockpit, the Griffin Fire was jolted to the side, and the holographic image of Vere and the Griffin Fire’s cockpit disappeared.

Ensign Spring was alone with Westmoreland and the two lieutenants again. Every part of him wanted to run for the desert and get to one of the Llyushin transports. The general’s hand on his shoulder, along with the pair of lieutenants with blasters strapped to them ensured that would never happen.

Westmoreland cleared his throat and said, “Lieutenant Brigande, contact Edsall Dark and relay Vere’s message. Make sure they understand the urgency of the situation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Lieutenant Throttle, I want you to take Ensign Spring to my Solar Carrier. Tell Security he is to be locked up until this battle is over. After that, I’ll decide what to do with him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Westmoreland turned and left. As did any chance Spring had at ever being a free man again, or of spending Mowbray’s reward.

61

When Morgan saw the message come up on the screen in front of her, she couldn’t believe her eyes. The Ensign that Westmoreland had assigned to communicate with both Edsall Dark and Vere had been a traitor. As such, precious time had lapsed in which no help had departed from their home world to assist Vere with getting the Excalibur Armada on its way to the site of the upcoming battle.

Morgan had given thought to how they might continue to keep as few people as possible from knowing what was happening. After all, before war there were spies and turncoats everywhere. Ensign Spring had just proven that much. It was inevitable that Mowbray would eventually find out about the freed ships. The trick was in delaying the discovery for as long as possible. Seeing as how the command had already been sent out for everyone on Edsall Dark to head toward Vere’s coordinates, she didn’t know how that would be possible.

She also thought about where the Excalibur Armada was, near Eta Orbitae, and where she was, on the surface of the desert moon, Dela Turkomann. The fleet of Solar Carriers were already in position above her. She was tempted to order some of them to go through the portal and assist Vere.

“It’s too risky,” Westmoreland said when he entered the command tent and heard the proposal. “Even if you sent some of our Solar Carriers to Vere’s position, they would never be able to get there, learn how to pilot the ships, and return with them in time to face the Vonnegan fleet. And plus, you would be without some of our flagships. Every one is going to count.”

She nodded, knowing he was right.

“Okay,” she said. “Make sure everyone knows this is an order: Any remaining personnel remaining at Edsall Dark should get aboard a departing vessel and leave as well.” She bit the edge of her lip. “The only problem—”

“Is that no one will be left at Edsall Dark to defend it?” Westmoreland finished for her.

Theoretically, the Athens Destroyers could figure out what was happening and pass wide of Dela Turkomann. The forces Morgan had assembled above the desert moon would be waiting for a battle that would never be fought there. Instead, the Vonnegan fleet would take control of Edsall Dark without firing a single cannon.

They stared at each other without blinking.

Morgan said, “I don’t envision Mowbray as someone who wants to make tactical victories. I think he would rather have the galaxy know that he crushed us head-on.”

Westmoreland nodded. “And we can’t forget the enemy we are facing. We are outnumbered three to one. If this battle goes the way the numbers predict they will”—Morgan started to protest but Westmoreland held a hand up to finish—“then maybe the best thing is for no one to be at Edsall Dark when it is over.”

“Westmoreland—”

He shook his head and patted her on the shoulder. If an officer her own age did the same thing, she might break his fingers or his wrist. But Westmoreland thought of her as an equal and this was how he treated his closest confidantes, so she only smiled.

“I expect to win every battle I go into,” he said. “And now that Vere has freed the Excalibur Armada, our odds have greatly improved. But only the foolish general goes into battle thinking there is no way he can lose. If we are defeated here, I wouldn’t want my friends or family living on Edsall Dark when Mowbray’s forces get there.”

She looked up at the sky, at the fleet of Solar Carriers orbiting the moon. Beyond them, the sun was twice the size she was used to seeing it when she was back on Edsall Dark. On the other side of the horizon, one of Mego Turkomann’s other moons, the purple sphere named Dela Raspatin, was only slightly smaller. In between the sun and the moon, the newly activated portal blazed with pure white energy.

After considering everything Westmoreland had said, she knew he was right. The circumstances of the battle, of her army, and of the approaching enemy fleet hadn’t changed. The Vonnegan forces were still greater than the collection of ships she commanded. It was the correct decision to conduct the battle above Dela Turkomann instead of Edsall Dark. But it was also good sense to clear their home world and the CasterLan capital in case the battle didn’t go their way.

She signaled for Pistol to come over and join them. Unlike everyone else on the moon’s blazing hot surface, the android was completely free of perspiration. Morgan had a bandana around her forehead to stop the flow of sweat into her eyes. Westmoreland constantly dabbed a handkerchief at his face. But Pistol looked the same as he did in the freezing cold or anywhere else.

“How can I help you, Morgan?”

“Send word back to Edsall Dark. Tell them I want a complete evacuation of Edsall Dark. Everyone, not just the engineers and pilots, should head to Vere’s coordinates near Eta Orbitae.”

“When would you like this to take place?”

Realistically, it would take a day to assemble all of the ships and get people aboard them.

“I want them up in space and on their way there,” she said, “in the next ten minutes.”

62

From the command deck of his Supreme Athens Destroyer, Mowbray could clearly see the first twelve ships ahead of him. The row of cannons on either side of the giant vessels. The haze of light from their thrusters. Although the other Destroyers were also straight ahead, they were too far away to see any part of them other than the engines and the faint outline of their frame. The ships furthest away appeared to be nothing more than blinking stars off in the distance. The only reason he knew they were Athens Destroyers was because their thrusters flared in a light blue color anytime there was a slight change in direction.

“My Lord?”

Mowbray turned. One of his senior officers was there. On his chest was a curved insignia, no larger than a finger, indicating he was one of the very few people in Mowbray’s fleet who had access to the top level of classified information. The man’s shoulders were decorated with ribbons from previous deployments.

All around Mowbray were officers trying to outdo each other with the amount of medals and ribbons they wore on their purple uniforms. Mowbray allowed these decorations because they increased group morale, but he did not partake in them himself. Instead, he wore a plain gray uniform, but with lines of purple and black down the side and under his vest.

Upon making eye contact with the Vonnegan ruler, the officer gave a slight bow of his head. Mowbray nodded but said nothing.

The officer merely held out his hand, said, “The latest intelligence report, My Lord,” and gave Mowbray a small metal cube.

Mowbray nodded and took possession of the object. The officer backed away without saying anything else.

Mowbray pressed his index finger to the cube. The portion of the metal he touched glowed an almost identical color as his fleet’s engines. After it verified who was in possession of it, the cube began displaying information across its metal sides.

The Vonnegan ruler read one side of the cube, then turned it over so new information would appear. On the cube’s second side, Mowbray’s thin black eyebrows rose.

His first instinct was to call the officer back over and ask if this information had been verified by a second source. But of course it had; it wouldn’t be included in the intelligence report unless at least two sources had provided the same account.

His second instinct was to call a meeting of his top generals. He had just read a report that Edsall Dark was going to be evacuated. Another report said that Vere CasterLan had managed to free the Excalibur Armada.

His brows furrowed as he assessed the news. The primary planet of the CasterLan Kingdom was being evacuated? A fabled collection of ships that no other ruler had been able to retrieve had been freed?

“It has to be misinformation,” he mumbled to himself. “They are scared, trying to make us change our minds.”

A small part of him hesitated in discounting the report. If his forces were going to enter a battle with the legendary fleet, his best military strategists should discuss any possible changes to their plans.

But then he settled on the correct course of action. He changed nothing. His fleet continued ahead without any change in course, without even a discussion of what else might be prudent.

There were two reasons for Mowbray’s decision. The most important was that he didn’t believe the report. He had spies everywhere in Vere’s kingdom, just as he was sure she had in his. He was presumed that some of his spies had been double agents, pretending to betray everyone on Edsall Dark by providing information to the enemy, but actually still working for Vere by providing false reports. If that was the case, having one of these double agents say that she was now in possession of the Excalibur Armada would be the best way to make him rethink his plans. No ruler, not even Mowbray, would dare go against nearly one thousand indestructible ships.