Fall of the Terran Empire

By Brian Jeffreys

Resisting the cruel, conquering machine of the mighty Terran Empire, the Orion Star Cluster locks its fledgling navy in combat with one of the most brilliant Terran admirals in its history. But Orion's only chance rests with a discovery made by a young Imperial cruiser commander named Traci Ganner.

In a routine pirate patrol, Ganner discovers a new world defended by Strike Fighters; a technology neither the Terran Empire nor Orion Clans possess. In a bid to save them both, Ganner devises a cunning plan, a plan that will come with a terrible price. To succeed, she must secretly unleash an unthinkable force and continue to stay one step ahead of everyone until it is time to reveal the truth. She is pitted in a game of wits against the highest levels of Imperial Command, including the Emperor himself, in order to save her own life, and those she cares for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brian Jeffreys
• Release date: Oct 14, 2010
• ISBN: 9780983078821

Brian Jeffreys

Brian Jeffreys is a reader, husband, father, technologist (geek), autism advocate, and science fiction / fantasy writer.Brian Jeffreys was born and raised in Yukon, Oklahoma, the oldest of two children. He attended several universities with degree programs ranging from engineering to astrophysics, finally graduating from Dallas Baptist University with a BS in Information Science. After two decades working in high tech manufacturing, he went back to school to pursue a masters degree in mathematics.While visiting a friend who had just co-written a book, Jeffreys decided to try his hand at writing. Over the course of three years he wrote four full length novels and tried several publishing venues. But at his core, he is a storyteller who loves to read and write good science fiction and adventure fantasy. His driving motivation is to never write something he wouldn’t want to read more than once.He lives in the North Texas area with his wife, three children (one with autism), and three cats.

Book preview

Fall of the Terran Empire

Brian Jeffreys

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2010 by Brian Jeffreys

Cover Design Copyright © 2010 www.DigitalDonna.com

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Orion Gambit

Glory and Empire

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Acknowledgements

A big thank you goes to my daughter Amie (my pre-editor) and my friend Michael Lin who dove into the manuscript with voracity and helped me make it better. And to Major John R. Moos, Major U.S. Army (retired), who shared quite literally, hundreds of Military, Fantasy, and Action Sci-Fi books with me giving me dozens of writing styles to draw upon. And of course, a big thank you to my editor, Kevin Grauer at www.btwnthelines.com, for helping me turn a jumble of letters into a fair manuscript.

Chapter 1

So, where do you think they’ll hit next, skipper? Lt. Stafford Swanson sat across the desk from Commander Traci Ganner in the commander’s day cabin, sipping a piping hot cup of coffee. It was just after ship’s dawn, and Swanson had brought in the day’s duty roster for a quick meeting with his CO. Ganner had called up the local star systems on the desk display and was twittering a stylus between her fingers, thinking.

She closed her eyes for just a moment. Her head leaned against the chair back and she could feel the braids of her hair touching the cloth of the chair. That was always the dilemma for women in the navy--wear your hair so short you look like the men, or wear it longer and have to do something with it. Traci Ganner was a practical woman, but she refused to wear her hair so short she couldn’t be herself after she got off the clock.

I’m not entirely certain, Stafford, she said, opening her eyes. They’ve already hit two merchant ships and a local yacht, here and here, she said, pointing to the display. So they must think they have a pretty good getaway plan. Or maybe they think the Empire is just going to overlook pirate activity in this quadrant. With all the merchant ships transporting water and ore here in Antares, I, for one, hope they show up in our sector.

I guess we’ll just have to show them the error of their ways, Swanson replied. If they show themselves in this backwater star system, we’ll catch them.

Lt. Swanson was also a practical man. He fidgeted with a thread that had caught his eye on his tunic jacket. It was a small defect on his otherwise spotless uniform. The lieutenant had always prided himself on his spotless appearance. His black trousers carried a single hunter green stripe down the length of each leg, which trimmed his black and green tunic nicely. His boots came up almost to his knees and had soft tops to keep from wrinkling his pants. His vest was riveted along its edges, setting off the waist-length military tunic made from sturdy broadcloth. There was an epaulette on each shoulder bearing an escutcheon device to match the one over his breast pocket, but his lieutenant's rank was displayed in white herringbone tape on his cuffs. Alas, that was where a thread had decided to fray. He picked at it absently.

The navy had adopted the more martial uniforms many generations ago. They imbued their wearers with a sense of power, the kind of power that could save lives--or take them. It was that sense of power that every member of the Imperial Navy understood. It gave them the focus to take their tasks very seriously, so that they understood the amount of power that came with a starship.

Yes, and Captain McKenzie is in the next star system, just a few hours away in the event they attack there, the commander said, laying down her stylus. She took a moment to scan the current merchant traffic roster once more and then leaned back in her chair. Go check with Chief Toler and make sure we keep our emissions to a minimum. We’ve got to keep the impulse drive in standby in case we get the call, of course, but otherwise-- she continued, but was cut off by the vicious howl of the general quarters alarm.

Ganner sat straight up in her chair and hit the comm switch on the desk as Swanson changed the display to show the master tactical plot. Talk to me, Simon, Ganner said urgently as she took in the data scrolling onto her plot.

"Ma’am, we have a priority-one signal from the Harpy, a merchant vessel outbound for Deneb III. It states it is under attack and requests assistance," said the ensign.

We’re on our way. Have Toler light up the engines and get us underway, best possible speed.

Aye, aye, ma’am, replied the ensign as he sent the necessary instructions. Swanson was already out the cabin door at a run.

* * *

Commander Ganner slid into the command chair and reviewed the master plot for any changes. She studied the locations and relative velocities of the fat merchant ship, Harpy, and her own light cruiser, Corsair, before speaking to the helmsman.

Helm, estimated time to intercept? she asked without taking her eyes off the plot.

Forty-two minutes, ma’am. We should reach maximum headway in another eight minutes, the ensign responded. He remained busily working his board while the other bridge officers settled in for the chase. Commander Ganner turned her head and saw Lt. Swanson crossing the bridge to come over to his command chair, which was next to hers. His expression was a mix of adrenaline-fueled excitement and concern for what they were about to find. Pirates had a way of planning nasty surprises for unsuspecting patrol ships.

Pass on my compliments to engineering, Stafford. They got the engines lit before I was on the bridge, she said with a slight smile.

Of course, skipper the lieutenant replied. It’s the only fun the engineering section gets during patrol duty.

Ganner gazed intently at her plot, not looking up at him. He craned his neck to look over the plot.

There you are, Swanson said as the plot registered a small vessel speedily running away from the wallowing merchant vessel. It looks like a destroyer, from the maneuvering, he said with satisfaction.

Not necessarily, Stafford, she responded. It could be one of the older light cruisers. They had less mass than our newer ships, and a bit of drag in their acceleration curves as well.

Still, it’s our boy, skip, he said matter-of-factly. We should be closing on him in just under forty-one minutes. Swanson scratched some imaginary spot behind his ear in the way he always did when he was about to ask a tough question. So, what’s the plan?

Notify Captain McKenzie, the commander said. I want to make sure he is on standby if this pirate has friends. Give him our location and vectors and ask him to advise soonest.

Aye, ma’am Swanson said and crossed to the comm station to give the order.

Ganner punched in some numbers on her plot and frowned as the answers scrolled into view. If the pirate kept up his present course, he would be heading out into deep space, not into one of the hyperspace lanes. That didn’t make any sense. The only way to evade a pursuing ship was to hightail it to another star system and get lost before the pursuing ship could overtake you. Either this was the dumbest pirate ever, or there was something he was trying to get to. Or someone.

Swanson walked back to the side of the commander’s chair and pointed to the indicator dot on her smaller plot that represented the pirate vessel. Where do you think he’s going? he asked mildly. You don’t suppose he has a cloaking device, do you?

I was just thinking the same thing. It’s also possible that he may not have one, but has friends that do.

That’s a nasty thought, said Swanson. We won’t see them until we’re right on top of them if that’s the case.

I don’t think it is, but it’s my job to be the optimist. Ganner flashed him with one of her shark smiles, leaving no doubt that she was ready to take on anyone who might be waiting.

Ma’am, incoming call from Captain McKenzie, the communications officer interrupted.

Put it on audio, Ensign the Commander answered. She turned to Lt. Swanson. That was quick.

Commander Ganner, this is Captain McKenzie, he stated as the channel opened. There was a momentary communication lag as the transmission was routed through the system ansible.

Sir, we are underway at best speed to intercept a possible pirate DD or CL, Ganner stated.

Traci, what is your feeling on this guy? I am surprised they didn’t lay low for a while after their last attack, the captain said with no humor at all in his voice.

I’m not sure, sir, but he is headed for something in a hurry. He can’t possibly hide from us now that we have him on sensors, and he is headed away from the system at best speed. We’ll intercept in just under forty minutes.

Alright, Traci, but be careful. We are en route to assist if you run into anything you can’t handle, he said.

Thank you, sir, Ganner said. A Royal Knight class heavy cruiser massed almost one and a half times as much as her Lancer class light cruiser. And McKenzie’s heavy cruiser also had the latest beam weapon refits as well--a powerful friend indeed. I’ll be careful, but I think we may have the jump on him. He may be relying more on guts than brains for this particular operation.

Keep me informed. McKenzie out, the captain said as he cut the circuit.

Entering missile range in two minutes, ma’am, Tactical Action Officer Simon Westerly said. He was updating his missile rack readiness board and double-checking the computer solutions that were part of his targeting package. A light cruiser did not mount many missile racks, but the Corsair should have had enough to let the pirate know who he was dealing with.

Understood, Guns. Charlie, send a message to the pirate and instruct him to heave to.

Swanson shook his head and smiled. Do you really think they’ll respond, ma’am?

No, Ganner said, matching his grin, but we have to play by the book. Besides, he may have some goodies in his database that will tell us more about any friends he might have in the neighborhood. Like who he’s fencing the goods to, for instance. And if he understands just how far into the deep end he’s gotten himself, he may decide to try to save his own skin, she finished.

No response to our hail, ma’am, the comm officer responded.

"Alright, Simon. Send them our second message," she said as she leaned back into her command chair and crossed her legs. Westerly didn’t need any clarification of the order. The TAC officer knew the protocol when dealing with pirates. First, give them a chance to state their case over the communication channel. Then disable or destroy their ship. He swiveled his chair around to check the targeting solution once more and pressed the firing stud.

The captain’s chair was designed to remain affixed in the center of the bridge under extreme conditions, such as impacts from enemy weapons, which is why it was very securely fastened to the bridge supports and contained various shock resistant features. These included a display plot that reflected the same data as the master bridge plot. But it also included shock mounts and an emergency breather apparatus in case of a hull breach. This fact was some comfort to Commander Ganner as she watched the two missile separations appear as twin light dots on her plot. It was unlikely this would be a protracted battle, but pirates were slippery customers that tended to hand you surprises that you didn’t train for back at the academy. She watched her own plot as both dots approached the fleeing pirate vessel faster than her own ship, but winked out before making contact, the nearest detonating only seventeen thousand kilometers from the pirate vessel.

Missiles are fast, intercept weapons, designed to damage the target’s shields and smash them flat while the pursuing ship closes in for the kill with beam weapons. A light cruiser like the Corsair carried a complement of four missile racks, all of them internal launchers. She could put four missiles into play every thirty seconds and had enough magazine space to carry ten reloads for each rack. Imperial cruisers also carried a mix of weapons loads that included standard nuclear missiles for overloading shield generators and the heavier Mark II antimatter warheads, designed to tear a ship to pieces. In this case, Traci Ganner had sent two of her Mark II Janner missiles out to the fleeing destroyer with a very clear message. As they detonated, they fried his aft shielding on the port side and tore into his hull, electrifying the control circuits for his waist-mounted weapons in a violent display of authority.

He’s still running, ma’am, Swanson said after a few seconds had passed with no communications reply. He must think we’re going to hang him when he’s caught.

He must also know we can board his little tin boat once we’ve shot up his engines, Ganner said aloud, more to herself then to her exec. He either thinks he can escape, or he’s buying time for some help to arrive.

Maybe, Swanson replied. Shall I have Major Bressler ready his boarding party, ma’am?

Have the major stand by, but we’re not going to board until I am sure this vessel has no teeth left, Commander Ganner said coldly, staring into her plot.

Just then, the pirate vessel vanished.

For just a heartbeat, no one spoke. The mind can play terrible tricks during the heat of battle, and everyone on the bridge took just a moment to verify that what they were seeing matched with some anchor in reality.

Get me plotting--what happened to my target?! Ganner’s voice sawed across the bridge like a laser cutter as she shouted to her executive officer. Slow to one-half impulse speed. I want to know what just happened.

One moment, the ship was identified on the master plot on the bridge viewer--mass, velocity, weapons, energy emissions--and in the next, it wasn’t. Scanners showed only empty space; there was no debris beyond the first missile hits. Sensors swept the area for two light minutes and found nothing.

Alright people, look alive. If this guy has a cloaking device, it’s a darned good one. No fade, no residual ion trail, nothing. Find him! the commander said with flinty steel in her voice. Chief, deploy a pattern of sensor drones to extend our search density. He has probably gone to silent running, so he’s here, trying to be invisible.

At that moment, everyone on the bridge found something to do. Swanson moved among several stations, looking for malfunctioning equipment, helping to tighten search patterns, and checking sensor outputs. Unfortunately, none of these efforts made the missing ship reappear on the plot. Ganner made herself sit back in her chair and radiate a calm that she was not feeling.

The Corsair carefully glided against the unmoving starfield with every active system scanning, looking for her elusive prey. He was out there, somewhere, possibly gone to ground with his systems emitting minimal power, hiding in the vastness outside the star system. She slowly continued on the last known course of the pirate vessel, and then it happened.

* * *

Skipper! exclaimed the navigator. Navcomp is going crazy, ma’am. It doesn’t register the star patterns anymore. Something has happened to them.

The commander had snapped her head around to see the navigation charts for herself, when the TAC officer interjected, Incoming missiles! Bearing thirty-one degrees, negative seven off the plane. Range fifty-five hundred kilometers and closing--velocity eighteen KPS. CIC makes it Type IA hybrids, skip!

Ganner’s mind quickly filed the astrological anomaly away in the back of her mind, letting her subconscious work on that in the background. Her first priority was the incoming threat to her emperor’s ship and crew. Fortunately, cruiser captains are specifically trained to handle a variety of combat scenarios, many of which contain several unknown parameters. But Commander Ganner was not one to let confusion get in the way of running her ship.

Helm, hard over. Give me some room, she said to the helmsman with a tone of urgency encased in the practiced calm of a ship’s

Reviews for Fall of the Terran Empire

[billygenetaylor · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

captivating