Last of the Immortals (The Jessica Keller Chronicles Book 3) (35 page)

And then everything went black with a hideous crunching sound.

Amsel
’s last bolt had gotten home on
Auberon
. Had done serious damage. Had possibly killed them.

In her dream, Jessica had fallen to her death into the abyss, dragged down to hell by the red daemon.

She was willing do the same here.

Chapter LXVIII

Imperial Founding: 172/06/16. Ballard system

The primary beams went out like metronome ticks. Emmerich smiled with satisfaction.

Like using an icepick to carve a sculpture
.

Downrange,
Alexandria Station
looked like a watermelon that had been shot with a rifle. Sections were blackened, dislodged, shattered. The whole station seemed to cower in a fog of shattered debris.

The only thing keeping it together right now was the scale of over–engineering someone had put in, planning to keep this big planetoid together and aloft for a long time. There were dozens of warships worth of metal over there. That much mass took time to dismember.

That’s why you took stations with marine assaults
.

Still, it wouldn’t be long now. More than a dozen shots had scored the orbital platform. If
Amsel
was moving too fast to place them all into the same crater, he would just have to make new holes. One of them would lead him to the core of the station.

The
Sentience
might already be dead as a result of his assassin, but he was going to make damned sure.

Other bolts rang home. He mustn’t forget Jessica Keller in his haste. She wanted to die today, as well. The least he could do was help.

Auberon
was a smaller target than
Alexandria Station
, and a moving one, spinning and twisting like an eel trying to get close enough to bite. The big guns could not score the sorts of square hits the station suffered, but he was slowly nibbling her shields to death. She would follow quickly when he did.

Something went wrong on the projection.

The last two missiles were veering off course to port, rather than chasing him. The defensive guns were tracking, but the sudden change threw them well off target.

“What’s going on there?” Emmerich called sternly.

“Unsure, Admiral,” the gunnery desk officer replied. “Stand by.”

Amsel
shifted under his feet. The entire hull rang like a gong.

For a moment, he had seen the image light up on the projection. She had fired two more of those beam–firing missiles at him. His gunners had gotten complacent and had been sitting back to fire on the missiles when they closed.

They never got close.

Auberon
had gotten too close, instead.

Emmerich found himself starting to float in sudden darkness as the local grav–plates failed.

A panel erupted in flame nearby, showering enough sparks to cut the darkness as a damage control technician swam across the space and fought to control the beast of fire in an enclosed space.

“Navigation,” he yelled into the chaos and darkness. “Are we stable?”

A man coughed twice and looked at him pained.

“Close enough, Admiral,” he yelled back, beating his arm to keep sparks from igniting cloth or hair.

“Bring the bow around,” Emmerich ordered. “All engines to flank speed and prepare to transition to Jumpspace as soon as we clear the gravity well.”

He no longer needed to be here. The last image on the projection before it had failed was that of
Alexandria Station
erupting into a ball of flame and shedding parts to burn up in the atmosphere below.

The
Sentience
was dead. Jessica Keller might be as well, but that would have to wait for another day.

Victory.

Chapter LXIX

Date of the Republic June 16, 394 Alexandria Station, Ballard

Moirrey knew they must be close. Twice, she and Suvi had come across areas with vacuum alarm seals keeping them from progressing. At least Suvi knew every single hallway and tunnel without a single missed step. That was their only hope now.

They crossed into what should be the outermost frame of the station. This hallway was a tremendous ring, apparently popular with joggers, from the reminders to politely share the walkway with normal pedestrian traffic.

The air here was chewy. Somewhere close, insulation was burning.

Another earthquake knocked Moirrey down, in spite of Suvi’s hand trying to hold her up.

“Almost there, Centurion,” the android–redhead said, tugging her back to her feet.

Moirrey was beginning to wonder if she would make it. If she wanted to.

At what point was the price too much?

“When you’re dead and can’t stop them from winning,” Suvi replied.

At what point are you gonna remember to use your inside voice so’s people don’t hear you
?

Moirrey sucked a shallow breath and fought down coughs. Lady Keller had demanded her best. Right here, right now was why she were an officer and a gentlewoman.

Still, it hurt.

The next rumble were strange.

Low. Ominous.
Mean
.

“What’s that?” Moirrey asked loudly over the noise.

Suvi stopped and cocked her head to listen.

“Shit,” the woman said.

Well, that covered it
.

Moirrey were right surprised when Suvi grabbed her, threw her over one shoulder, and started to run down the hallway at what appeared to be a simply ludicrous speed. She had a great view of Suvi’s butt, and not much else.

The android stopped moving long enough for Moirrey to pop her head up and look around.

Suvi was staring at a hatch in the side of the hallway.

Heaven. It were marked Escape Pod.

“Damn it,” Suvi said.

“What?” Moirrey asked as Suvi set her down on her feet.

“We’re out of time, and that’s a one–person pod,” Suvi replied as the rumbling and shaking got worse. “I can abandon you here, and escape, and never forgive myself, or I can send you to safety and feel good for a few minutes until I die and we’ve failed.”

Moirrey watched the pain, greed, and dejection play out across the android–babe’s face.

She smiled and palmed the lock open. Inside, it were a big, comfy–looking padded seat and a few display screens to keeps you entertained while you went, but not able to actually do anything. Well, not unless you got under it with some tools, like she might have in a pocket.

Moirrey turned to the android–babe and smiled.

“It’s really easy, Suvi,” she said as she took a step and shoved the woman into the hatch.

The android’s reflexes might be good, but surprise were a wonderful thing.

“Moirrey…?” Suvi start to say as the engineer dove in and landed on her lap.

Moirrey kicked the big red button with a foot as the rumbles started to turn scary and smoke and flames appeared. The hatch slammed shut like a bank vault. Emergency straps emerged from the everywhere and tied her down atop the other woman, like they were one, big, landwhale.

“What are you doing?” Suvi said tartly.

“One–person’s a life–support rating,” Moirrey twisted around to smile back at the so–much–taller woman. “You don’t breathe if you don’t wants to. And you dinna consume oxygen if’n ya dids.”

“Oh…” Suvi started to say as the ejection system fired them into the darkness.

And safety.

PART IV: AFTERMATH

Epilogue: Tadej

Date of the Republic July 5, 394 Ladaux

“Senator Horvat?” the voice intruded on his brooding.

Tadej glanced up from the document he was busily consuming. His youngest aide was standing in the doorway, looking positively distressed.

“What is it, Stacia?” he asked.

The government might have fallen, by his own hand, but he was still technically executing power, at least for another nine weeks. Couriers had flown to every corner of the Republic with the news, but conducting snap elections for the Senate was still a massively complicated beast. It took time.

Stacia took two steps into the office, carrying a heavy binder in one hand.

“The latest numbers are in, Senator,” she said simply.

Tadej nodded and set his current papers to one side.

“Your analysis?” he asked, very happy he had transferred her to his personal staff. Judit might appreciate her in the Premier’s office, but he wasn’t about to give her up, not after he had started personally interviewing her former professors about her background.

“We’ll be in the minority, Senator Horvat,” she replied, pulling numbers from memory without once glancing down. “It might be as close as five seats, but the current models predict seventeen, with a margin of error of three. It could have been a bloodbath, but the core voters are responding well to your personal integrity to bring the government down, expel the bad apples, and do so in such a public manner.”

“I see,” Tadej replied.

Forty years in politics could have told him the same thing, but not with the academic rigor Stacia and her assistants would have brought to it.

Tadej sighed. He had grown fond of the office. It would be sour to have to pack everything up and move across the hall. But at least things would be in good hands with Judit Chavarría taking the reins.

“One other thing, Senator,” Stacia continued.

Tadej looked more closely at his aide. She was bouncing her weight back and forth, almost vibrating with energy.

“Go on,” he replied.

This must be good. She was normally calmness itself.

“Because it would be improper to commit such a thing to paper, I was asked to deliver a personal message, sir.”

Tadej felt an eyebrow go up.

“And just where would you have had such an encounter, Stacia?” he asked, intrigued.

He was rewarded by her blush. Her smile looked remarkably like his youngest daughter right now.

“I was approached in the ladies’ washroom,” she said simply.

Well, that certainly limited the number of sources, and vetted every single one of them. So it was a legitimate message, passed through back channels that recognized her smarts. Better and better.

“It was an informal inquiry, Senator,” she said. “Someone wondering aloud how you might feel about taking over as chairman of the fleet committee in the next government.”

And that limited the inquiry to exactly one person. Nobody else would dare to speak for Judit on something that sensitive. Interesting that she approached Stacia.

And useful.

The Select Committee for the Fleet of The Republic of Aquitaine.
Something that existed outside of party politics, staffed by long–serving senators of all parties that exercised operational control of the fleet.

The soon–to–be former Loyal Opposition didn’t really have anyone with the stature to take charge of that group, after the blood–letting he was in the process of supervising. Between losses and retirements, a third of the sitting members would not be returning to the Senate. How many of them would be in prison was a matter for bookies and politics junkies.

And it would give him a chance to groom a new generation of Senators for the front benches. Tadej couldn’t imagine not returning to this office in five years, even if Judit held a government for a whole cycle.

“It is an interesting idea, Stacia,” he replied carefully. “I will give it serious thought.”

She nodded and departed without another word. Yes, he was absolutely not sharing her with Judit or anyone else. She was too good.

The Committee, indeed.

Yes, he would certainly be able to protect Nils from there. Most of the fallout from this affair was political, not naval, but the First Lord would need protections from fools.

Jessica, even more so, assuming she survived.

Epilogue: Tomas

Date of the Republic June 22, 394 Above Ballard

“Look,” Tomas Kigali said to the image on the screen, utterly vexed, and completely unwilling to give an inch. “I don’t care what you think. I’m in charge here and you’ll obey my orders or turn your silly ass around right now and go home. Understand me?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kigali saw his first officer’s head emerge from the ladder well, popping up like the old character Kilroy to see what was about.

Kigali kept his face neutral as he stared into the camera.

A woman’s face appeared, replacing the much–younger male centurion who had been on the screen.

She was older, but still very beautiful, with long, black hair just starting to stripe silver and blue–green, almond–shaped eyes that were the result of having had a Japanese ancestor, back on the homeworld.

She stared at him for several seconds.

Probably thinks I’ll flinch
.

Good luck with that, lady
.

“Do you know who I am, Command Centurion?” she said simply. It was a calm voice, smooth and warm. It sounded like a very polite velvet hammer.

Kigali nodded.

“First Fleet Lord Petia Veronika Naoumov,” he replied, equally calm, almost on the verge of giggling. “Commander of
RAN Athena
, flagship of Homefleet.”

He smiled evilly at her.

“My support squadron.”

“Your what?”

“My support squadron,” he repeated.

“And you’re going to give me orders, Kigali?” she continued, obviously intent on pursuing this game of wills.

Please, you aren’t even a planetary governor, lady. Granted, three times as smart as the ones I know, but still
.

“Let me put it to you this way,
madam
,” he said with a sharp edge. “Jessica Keller put me in charge. This system is under martial law. That order was signed by the Senate. You work for the Senate. So either you produce a document signed by the Premier that rescinds his order, or you take orders. My orders. Which part of that statement confuses you?”