Hunters return, p.1
Hunter's Return, page 1
HUNTER’S RETURN
Richard Tongue
HUNTER’S RETURN
Colonial War: Book Seven
Copyright © 2022 by Richard Tongue, All Rights Reserved
First Kindle Edition: December 2022
All characters and events portrayed within this eBook are fictitious; any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Prologue
The star didn’t even have a name. Just an alphanumeric identifier, one granted by the computer that had discovered it, decades ago. Only its relative proximity to Earth had granted it any attention at all, a cursory examination by a bored grad student, noting nothing of interest about another dim brown dwarf, a pair of rocks slowly tumbling in mildly eccentric orbits.
One of three hundred he’d looked at that day. There had never been any thought of an expedition, even the briefest visit, when the early interstellar explorers broke the light barrier and swept beyond the solar system. Perhaps a down-on-her-luck prospector might have ventured that way, but as far as the official records showed, TGSS 56-4403 had nothing to offer.
Until now.
For the briefest moment, the star was important, its mediocrity at last working in its favor. A place to hide, a place to gather, a place to prepare for an attack that would change the course of galactic history. To prepare for the greatest massacre ever conceived, the annihilation of a sentient race.
With a blinding flash of light, the first of the Federation warships burst into the system, heralded only by a long-dormant automated beacon, quickly moving to the appointed rendezvous point, waiting for their comrades to join them, to form the fleet that would end the Olympian threat forever.
And unleash a greater horror than humanity had ever known.
The death of a world.
Unless someone, or something, could stop them…
Chapter 1
“Lieutenant-Major Nykolai Kozak,” Brigadier Okpara barked, his pistol pointed square at Kozak’s chest, “I formally place you under arrest on charges of desertion, treason, mutiny, conspiracy to…”
The man standing next to Kozak, rifle at the ready, said, “Do you really think that we’re going to let you get away with that?”
“Corporal Nguyen, you are…”
Taking a step forward, Kozak said, “Brigadier, I believe that you might be a little behind in your reports. I am here on the direct orders of Commodore Hunter himself, and am instructed to brief the commanders of the Combined Fleet and prepare them for an immediate engagement with the enemy.”
“I don’t believe you,” Okpara said.
Overhead, there was a loud clap of thunder, and the group looked up to see a shuttle racing through the sky, moving in for immediate landing, the insignia on its side identifying it as from Hanoi, flagship of what was left of the Republic element of the Combined Fleet.
Kozak glanced at Nguyen, then at the conference dome, gleaming in the sunlight of the Valhallan dawn, the air fresh and sweet, strange after he’d spent so long in artificial environments. He took another step forward, starting to move past Okpara, the latter’s pistol still trained on him.
“Brigadier, I don’t care what you believe. When my ship arrived in orbit I sent my dispatches to the other commanders in the fleet. Our sensors tracked most of them down here, and it looks like the last of them is about to arrive. Evidently Captain Singh…”
“Captain Singh was relieved of command. Commander Fitzroy…”
Turning to Nguyen, Kozak ordered, “Corporal, go get him. I’m guessing he’s being held somewhere down here on the surface.” Okpara’s scowl was confirmation of his suspicion, but Nguyen continued to loiter, glaring at the red-faced flag officer.
“Are you sure…”
“I can handle this, Corporal. On your way.”
Nodding, Nguyen ran to the far side of the compound, where a pair of guards stood in front of a squat, prefabricated structure, a grey blur that felt completely out of place in the arcadian environment. Okpara shook his head, a smile on his face, as he raised his pistol once more.
“The guards won’t let him through. They’ll shoot him first.”
“That depends whether they’re loyal to you or the Commodore.”
“They’re loyal to the Republic.”
“I’m not sure that means a damn thing these days. Not now that the creatures you support are in power. Now get out of my way. I have a meeting to attend, and I don’t want to keep the others waiting.”
“If you think…”
“Don’t you get it yet? Your secret is out, Brigadier, well and truly out. We won a tremendous victory at Columbia. A Federation battlecruiser taken off the map, a world liberated. If you truly think that your peace deal with those bastards is going to stand after that, you’re insane. As soon as they find out what happened out there, they’ll be back into the fight…”
“Not if we turn you over to them.”
Wide-eyed, Kozak said, “You’d do that, wouldn’t you.”
“If I thought it would keep the peace, yes. I’ve seen too many friends of mine die a bloody, pointless death, Major. I don’t want to see any more. And if all it takes to stop that from happening is to throw an arrogant bastard like you to the wolves, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
“I’ll make a deal with you,” Kozak said. “I’ll present my case to the commanders of the fleet, the representatives of the Free Worlds, and I’ll allow you to do the same. I’ll abide by their decision, and if they want to seek peace at any price, I’ll hand myself over to the Federation.”
Shaking his head, Okpara replied, “You’ve rigged the deck. Too many of the people in that dome came back from Columbia with you. Too many of them have been twisted by…”
“You can’t have it both ways, Brigadier,” Kozak said. He looked at the old man again, then said, “I’m going in. You can follow me, stay out here, or shoot me. I’ll leave that choice to you.” Without a second glance, he walked to the dome, turning his back on Okpara, waiting to hear the crack that would herald his death. A moment later, he was stepping through the door, and he risked a glance back at the Brigadier, seeing him standing alone on the ground by the landing pad, looking into the sky, pistol still in his hand.
Inside, the familiar round table was still in position, though there were fewer representatives than there had been in the past. Fleet Captain Schmidt spoke for Hyperborea, though their fleet was sadly diminished after the Battle of Columbia, and the recently-liberated Minister Sabatini was representing both Ithaca and Irkalla, with Commander Dubois speaking for the forces of the Cartel. Commandant Kruger, now Thalassa’s Minister of War, had returned with a pair of frigates at his back, and Vice-President Sekibo had apparently remained at Valhalla, augmenting Xibalba’s forces with a pair of light carriers.
He could guess why. Valhalla was a tempting prize, too tempting to ignore for long, coveted by each of the Free Worlds. Hyperborea and Thalassa had spent much of their military might on the fighting to date. The other worlds had to step up to the plate, or the war was as good as lost.
“Major,” Sabatini said, gesturing him to a seat at the head of the table. “I see that the Brigadier failed to make his threats stick.” Looking around the room, he added, “If it is any consolation, at one point he seemed to threaten to destroy this dome from orbit if this meeting took place, though I doubt that he was able to find anyone to obey such a barbaric order.”
“Who is representing the Republic?” Sekibo asked.
The door slid open, and a haggard-looking Singh staggered into the room, wearing a prisoner’s jumpsuit, supported by Nguyen. The old veteran, looking his years for the first time, looked around with a smile, dropping into a chair with the assistance of the young Marine.
“That would be me,” he said. “As commander of the cruiser squadron.”
“Captain,” Schmidt replied, “I don’t think you can even stand.”
“Fortunately I have a chair on the flight deck. Where’s Fitzroy?”
“On her way down, from what I hear,” Dubois said.
Nodding, Nguyen added, “I spoke to some of the guards, and none of them were particularly interested in following Okpara’s lead. They’re with us, and as soon as she lands, she’ll be placed under arrest. I presume you’re going to want to speak with her at some point.”
“After this meeting,” Kozak confirmed. “Just where is our friend the Brigadier, anyway?”
“No idea. Looks like he’s gone to ground somewhere, but I’ve got a guard on the comm shack and the shuttle, so there’s no way he can send any sort of a signal to the ships in orbit. They’ve really expanded the place since we were down here last. Plenty of places to hide.”
“We’ll worry about him later,” Kozak said. He looked at Singh, and asked, “Are you sure that…”
“I’m fine,” Singh said. “Nothing wrong with me that a good meal and a night’s sleep in a real bed won’t fix. And there will be plenty of time for both once we’ve had our talk.” He looked at Kozak, and asked, “Is it true what the Corporal told me? You managed to rescue Jack?”
With a shrug, Kozak replied, “I didn’t have to. He’d already rescued himself. I just arranged transportation off-world.” He turned to the others, and said, “If you’ve all read the report, you know the situation. We’ve beaten back the Federation, but now we’re facing the greatest threat in history.”
“A planet-killer bomb,” Sabatini said. “I’ve spent the last week going over the reports, and I still can’t quite believe that anyone would build one. I know the theory’s old enough, but that the Federation would develop…”
“The Republic was working on it,” Dubois replied. “With rather less funding and support. None of the Cartel companies agreed to do any work on it. We believed that its development wasn’t in anyone’s interest. It seems that the Federation had fewer scruples.”
“Than the corporations,” Schmidt said. “Not the government.” She shook her head, and said, “I think we can all agree on one thing. None of us are willing to follow the lead of the Republic, certainly not while the Provisional Government is in charge.”
“They seem to have a surprisingly firm grip on Earth and the Core,” volunteered Dubois. “The Cartel is pulling out, all of our resources heading out this way, all of our people, at least those willing to take the jump. We’re not supporting this new government, and frankly, we’re not going to support the Republic at all.” She smiled, glanced at Singh, and said, “I think Hanoi is about the only ship in the Republic contingent of the Combined Fleet that we didn’t supply. I’m formally taking them out of Republic service.”
Singh sighed, then said, “I’ve spent the last forty years of my life in the service of the Republic, more than half of those at war, but I can’t endorse them either, and I know that my crew will feel the same way. I’ll go along with any decision made in this room.”
“That leads to a critical command decision,” Sekibo warned. “Who is going to command our forces? I could suggest…”
“Commodore Hunter,” Kozak interrupted. “There’s no need to make any decision, ma’am. He is in command of the Combined Fleet.”
“He isn’t here,” Sekibo said, bluntly. “And from what I understand, he is right now taking part in a kamikaze mission on the Federation fleet. Those tend to end badly. If he’s dead…”
Glancing at Kozak, Schmidt suggested, “Lieutenant-Major Kozak would be acceptable to the Hyperborean government, with support from a group of senior military officers.”
“I’m…” Kozak began.
“Thalassa agrees,” Kruger said, before Kozak could decline.
Sekibo shook her head, then replied, “With all due respect, just what do the two of you have to lose at this point? The bulk of your forces have already been lost. I think that gives Major Kozak a handful of frigates, and…”
“Ithaca agrees to Lieutenant-Major Kozak,” Sabatini interrupted.
“What?” Sekibo said. “Sal, are you out of your mind…”
“Inira, we are facing the greatest threat in the history of our worlds. If the Federation are able to deploy an antimatter bomb, we’re done. We would have no choice other than to surrender. We can work out the details later, we can work out what happens after the war when it’s won, but for now, for right now, we’ve got to work together, or we’re going to lose. And more than likely, each and every one of us in this room will die. Those are the stakes we’re playing for right now.”
Kozak took a deep breath, then said, “Until the return of Commodore Hunter, I will serve as acting commander of the fleet, on the condition that all tactical operations are directed by Fleet Captain Schmidt and the senior officer from Xibalba.”
“A joint command?” Sabatini asked. “I’m not sure…”
“No, no, it makes sense,” Schmidt replied. “The fleet nicely divides into two formations anyway. I can take command of the forward elements, frigates and auxiliary cruisers, while the other runs the capital ship contingent. Though this only holds until the Commodore gets back.”
Sekibo looked at Kozak, smiled, and said, “Careful, Major. You seem to be turning into quite an adept politician on the quiet.” With a nod, she said, “I agree with your conditions. Based on that, we can provide both of our light carriers, three frigates, and three fighter squadrons.”
“Ithaca will provide two light cruisers and a light carrier,” Sabatini said. “They’ll be arriving within the next twenty-four hours. Irkalla is keeping their forces home for the present, but in a week…”
Shaking his head, Kozak said, “That’s too long. We’re going to have to move out a lot sooner than that.” He looked around the table, and said, “One thing I know is that the Commodore needs help, and he probably needs it fast. I’m not going to sit here and wait. We have to break orbit and make for the Olympian homeworld, and we have to leave within thirty-six hours. I’ll wait for the Ithacan contingent, but no longer.”
Nodding, Schmidt added, “I’m forced to agree. We’re at the moment of decision, and we can’t let it pass.” She looked around, and continued, “I am every bit as concerned about the Olympian threat as the rest of you, but if we let that bomb be detonated, we’ve got blood on our hands that will never wash off. Nothing will ever be the same again. If it’s used once…”
“You don’t need to convince me,” Kruger said. “Besides, we’ve got a chance to hit the Federation fleet hard, taken them out of the game, then run on and finish off the Olympians.”
With a smile, Kozak said, “That’s the idea, ladies and gentlemen. We can end the war right here, end it in victory, and remove the Federation as a threat to the frontier at that moment. And if any of you still think that I’m in the pay of the Republic, the day the war ends, I’ll be resigning.”
Sekibo raised an eyebrow, then replied, “On that day, get in touch. I might be in a position to offer some rather interesting employment.”
“Not if I get there first,” Schmidt countered.
Before Kozak could reply, the doors slid open, Nguyen racing inside, saying, “Trouble, sir. At the shuttle.”
“I thought we had a guard…,” Kozak replied, rising to his feet, racing to the door and drawing his sidearm.
“Not that shuttle, Fitzroy’s,” he said. A pair of cracks echoed through the air, and Kozak saw Okpara climbing on board, over the unconscious form of the guard, Fitzroy lying sprawled on the launch pad, blood tricking from a wound on her forehead. Kozak fired two quick shots at the fleeting felon, but Okpara had already ducked inside the hatch, the bullets rebounding harmlessly from the hull.
Instincts taking over, Kozak sped towards Fitzroy, gesturing for Nguyen to rescue the guard, the two men carrying the others to safety as the shuttle’s engines roared, barely getting out of the way in time before the blast hammered into the launch pad, flickering flames leaping into the air.
Looking up, Kozak shook his head, then turned to Nguyen, saying, “Get a medical team out here, do what you can for them.”
“What about you?” Nguyen asked.
Gesturing at the other shuttle, he said, “I’m going after him.”
“Alone?”
“You’ve got to stay here, and there isn’t time for anyone else. See if you can hustle me some fighter support.” He clapped Nguyen on the shoulder, then said, “It’ll work out. It always does.”
“One day it won’t.”
“Maybe. But not today.”
Chapter 2
Jack Hunter sat in his command chair, one of the few familiar features on a bridge he used to know like the back of his hand. It had been months since he had commanded a starship, months of frustrated captivity followed by the brief spell with the resistance on Columbia. Now he was riding to battle once more, but it felt strange, different.
It had taken him the better part of a day to work it out. It wasn’t his ship, not anymore. He hadn’t walked its decks for far too long. The crew had been selected by Nick Kozak, a collection of rogues and renegades who had been willing to take the risk of flying into battle with him, not least because they trusted that he would do the right thing, that he would find a way to win.
And he had. Hunter’s role had been on the ground, fighting to secure the intelligence they were counting on to make their current battle a success. He looked around the bridge again, shaking his head with a smile. Most of the officers on duty weren’t even wearing their uniforms. Pat Flynn, his nominal second-in-command, sported a beaten-up flight suit that had seen far better days, and Chief Riley, one of his oldest friends, wore a glaring Hawaiian shirt in place of his uniform top. Only Ensign Rogers, riding the helm, had even made an attempt to follow standard regulations, and she had her jacket draped over the back of her chair.
