Mad Queen, page 19
“He could be anywhere,” Percival repeated. “And we can’t search a thousand worlds.”
“No…not just anywhere.”
Norsp’s comment, coming from where he stood behind Halvy, surprised Thomas. The former Flayer hadn’t said a word to anyone, except probably in private to Halvy, since they’d left Ferraden.
“Can you elaborate?” he asked.
“Turquine’s shuttle lacks a wormhole generator,” Norsp explained. "The shuttle can only fast travel via burst drive, which will limit its effective range.”
“And we know when Sir Ironside left Kheir-Lossan in relation to us,” Merlin said excitedly. “By calculating maximum time and burst speed, we can create a sphere of potential distance. It’s possible he’s traveling beyond that sphere, but traveling great distances in bursts with a small shuttle would be a strain on anyone’s sanity, including his. Give me a moment to adjust the star map to show only planets within that range of the Blackveil Corridor’s mouth.”
The holographic display shifted dramatically, the overwhelming scatter of stars condensing to a manageable group of only two inhabited worlds.
“Alorion and Kuprion,” Merlin announced. “Both Ursan worlds, though Alorion is much more established. Population approximately fifty million. Primary industries include manufacturing, mining, agriculture, and finance.”
“What about Kuprion?” Aldrich asked.
“Population two million, mostly in scattered settlements. Practically zero trade, no stand-out industry.”
"If Ironside needed to disappear quickly and find resources in the process," Aldrich mused, "a world like Alorion would be more ideal. Large enough to blend in, with enough ships to catch a ride somewhere else on a ship with wormhole capabilities.”
"And if we're going to search for him anyway, why not multitask?” Gareth said. “Alorion could be an excellent target for liberation."
The suggestion sparked immediate interest through the neural link. “Do they have shipbuilding facilities?” Thomas asked. “As much as I want to liberate every planet in the galaxy, we need to be strategic about it. And right now, we need planets that can build starships.”
“They do,” Merlin replied. “It currently builds cargo vessels.”
“Do we know anything about the Draconite forces there?”
“No, but its profile would suggest a light Draconite garrison bolstered with local recruits. Unless of course Morgana has already realized the strategic value of a planet like Alorion, and has bolstered their defenses.”
“If she has, she’ll regret it,” Thomas replied. "We go to Alorion. If Ironside is there, we’ll find him. If the opportunity presents itself to liberate the world, we seize it."
The crew's intrigue—their excitement, determination, and the familiar tension that preceded action—rippled through the neural interface. They had a target, a plan, and a purpose beyond simple wandering.
"Merlin," Thomas commanded, "initiate wormhole generation for Alorion. Let's go hunting."
CHAPTER 22
The wormhole collapsed behind Excalibur as they emerged near Alorion. Through the neural interface, Thomas felt the ship's sensors sweeping the immediate area, cataloging their immediate surroundings before focusing on their target.
Alorion hung before them like a blue-white jewel, its continents wreathed in wispy clouds. Orbital traffic—cargo haulers following established shipping lanes, passenger transports maintaining steady approaches to surface spaceports, and the angular silhouette of a Draconite destroyer maintaining a patrol orbit above the equator—moved in lazy patterns around the planet.
"A single destroyer," Tivan mused, already analyzing the tactical situation. "Looks like they're running a routine patrol pattern."
"Kaelithan," Thomas said aloud, "I need you to glamour us before we get within their sensor range. Make us look like a cargo hauler or passenger transport—something completely unremarkable."
"Of course, Captain," came the wizard's voice from his position on the flight deck. "Give me a moment to weave the illusion."
Magical energy flowed around Excalibur's hull, bending light and electromagnetic radiation. Thomas sensed the subtle shift in the feel of the ship as the glamour took hold, the change rippling through the neural interface. In moments, their distinctive sword-like appearance transformed into the blocky, utilitarian lines of a commercial freighter.
"Glamour is set,” Kaelithan reported. "We should appear as a merchant vessel on their sensors."
Excalibur continued its approach, moving at the steady, predictable pace of a ship following established traffic control guidelines. The destroyer maintained its patrol pattern, showing no sign of increased alertness or suspicious behavior.
"Getting a clearer picture of the planetary defenses," Garant added, his consciousness touching the sensor readings. "Besides the destroyer, I'm reading minimal orbital installations. A few communications satellites, some basic traffic control beacons, but no defense platforms or military stations."
"Light garrison then,” Percival agreed. “Probably just enough troops planetside to maintain order and collect taxes. This is a standard Draconite occupation force, not a military stronghold."
“Fifty million Ursan living under Draconite oppression, defended by what appears to be minimal forces,” Merlin said. “The liberation of such a world would deal a significant blow to Morgana's empire while adding substantial population and resources to our alliance.”
“Not to mention those ship-building capabilities you were after, Captain,” Bilbic added.
"What do you all think?” Thomas asked, opening the question to his entire crew. "Do we attempt liberation?"
Gareth's response came immediately through the neural link. "Absolutely. The tactical situation is as favorable as we're likely to find anywhere. One destroyer, light ground forces, and a population that would welcome freedom."
"I agree," Percival added. "This is exactly the kind of victory we need to build momentum for the alliance."
Aldrich's more measured perspective followed. "The risk is manageable, and the potential gains are substantial. Even if we don't find the Red Knight here, liberating Alorion advances our broader objectives."
One by one, the rest of the crew—showing enthusiasm for striking another blow against tyranny—voiced their agreement.
"Then we proceed," Thomas decided. "Kaelithan, drop the glamour."
The magical illusion dissolved, revealing Excalibur's true form to any sensors that might be watching. The legendary ship's silver hull gleamed bright in the starlight, its distinctive sword-like silhouette unmistakable to anyone familiar with galactic history.
The reaction from the destroyer was immediate. The vessel's weapon systems and shields immediately powered up, her course shifting as she began to come about.
“Here they come,” Tivan said.
Thomas opened a wide-band communication, ensuring his message would reach not only the destroyer but also hopefully any listening posts on the planet below. "Draconite vessel, this is Captain Thomas Drake of Excalibur. You are occupying a free world against the will of its people. I'm ordering you to surrender immediately or suffer the consequences.”
The response came quickly. The destroyer's commander—a large Draconite with deep red scales—appeared on their visual display with obvious disbelief and arrogant amusement. His vertical pupils contracted as he took in Thomas' appearance.
“Draconite surrender to no one,” the commander said, his voice carrying mocking laughter. “Especially not an Ursan child. Surrender yourself to me, and I might allow your crew to live as slaves."
"I assume that means you’re choosing to suffer the consequences?” Thomas replied calmly.
The commander's laughter grew louder. "One small ship against the might of the Draconite empire? You're either insane or suicidal. Either way, you're about to become very dead."
Thomas cut the communication without another word. "Shields up, weapons online. All hands prepare for combat.”
The neural interface blazed with shared consciousness. Through their connection, Thomas felt the familiar surge of power as Excalibur's shields snapped into existence. Everyone on the flight deck moved to secondary seating, securing themselves in case the ride got turbulent.
The destroyer was already accelerating toward them, its engines burning bright against the stellar backdrop as it closed the distance to optimal weapon range. Along its flanks, weapon ports opened like hungry mouths, revealing the heavy energy emitters designed to reduce enemy vessels to atoms.
"Multiple fighter launches," Garant reported, his consciousness tracking new contacts separating from the destroyer's hull. "Twelve starfighters, moving into attack formation."
Thomas could see them through the neural link. They spread out in a coordinated pattern, seeking to surround Excalibur and simultaneously attack her from multiple angles.
"Evasive maneuvers," Thomas ordered. “We'll punch through their fighter screen and engage the primary target."
With Brennan’s consciousness and Excalibur's navigational systems merged, the ship accelerated smoothly. Its engines building power, the pilot’s natural talent guided them through space with easy grace as they closed the distance to their enemies.
The first salvo from the destroyer's weapons lit up the void with brilliant fire that could have vaporized any lesser vessel. Brennan's piloting was flawless. While maintaining their aggressive approach vector, he slipped Excalibur between the incoming beams of energy as if he were dancing around them.
"Return fire," Thomas commanded.
Burl and Percival's combined consciousness flowed through the weapon systems. Targeting solutions appeared in their shared awareness as Excalibur's energy beams lanced outward. The streams of destructive force reached across space to hammer the destroyer's defensive barriers.
The enemy's shields flared a brilliant white as they absorbed the impact, the cascading waves of energy rippling across the destroyer's hull like liquid fire. Thomas could see the defensive matrix holding firm, the enemy's protective barriers designed to withstand sustained bombardment.
The starfighters—sleek predators cutting through space with deadly intent—closed in on Excalibur from multiple directions. Their concentrated energy beams, fired in coordinated volleys designed to overwhelm a ship’s defenses, converged on Excalibur like spears of molten flame. Brennan executed a series of sharp maneuvers. sending the legendary ship spinning through space as death streaked past them in brilliant streams.
“Our turn,” Percival said, opening fire on the starfighters, his energy beams sweeping outward in precise arcs that painted space in deadly light. Two of the attacking fighters found themselves caught in those consistent streams of destruction, shields collapsing, their armor vaporizing in microseconds. The interceptors vanished in quick explosions, their pilots never knowing what killed them before their ships expanded into clouds of composite debris.
The remaining ten fighters pressed their attack with desperate fury, swarming around Excalibur like angry hornets. Their combined firepower hammered against the legendary ship's shields in a continuous barrage, beams striking the protective energy in rapid succession. The shields held up to the assault, absorbing every one of the direct hits. Meanwhile, the destroyer continued its relentless bombardment, batteries along its flanks firing in measured salvos that filled space with destructive energy. One of the heavy beams finally found Excalibur, striking it head-on, rattling the vessel and her crew.
“Sorry, Captain,” Brennan said, his remorse spreading across the interface. “I should have seen that one coming.”
“You’re doing great,” Thomas replied. “Just don’t let it happen again.”
Brennan’s amusement rippled outward, replacing his prior emotion. “Aye, Captain, but we’re taking hells of a lot of fire.”
That's when Halvy's voice cut through the combat chatter from his position on the flight deck, calm and certain despite the chaos surrounding them.
"I can help," the young wizard said simply.
Thomas immediately sensed the magical energy building around the boy, raw power that made the air itself tremble. Arthur’s essence stirred within him, taking notice of the gathering storm around the young Druid and the sharp glow of the shard around his neck. The sensation—ancient, primal, carrying the weight of forces that predated starships and beam weapons by millennia—was unlike anything technological. Through the ship's sensors, he watched in amazement as Halvy extended his power beyond Excalibur's hull, his enhanced abilities reaching across the vacuum to touch the attacking fighters with invisible fingers.
Two of the interceptors were instantly torn apart, their components disintegrating at the joints and seams, hundreds of individual pieces of the vessels spreading out in a pair of expanding debris fields, their unprotected pilots at the center where they quickly succumbed to the vacuum. It was the most impressive and terrifying thing Thomas had ever witnessed.
The remaining fighters scattered in obvious panic, their tight formation dissolving as pilots suddenly found themselves faced with forces beyond their understanding or training. Several fighters began evasive maneuvers that took them away from Excalibur rather than toward it. Their pilots' nerves shattered under the strain of facing something that defied reason.
“Unbelievable,” Burl commented with grim satisfaction, his consciousness touching the tactical display as he tracked the fleeing fighters. "Remind me never to anger you, Halvy.”
“I would never hurt you, Burl,” Halvy replied with a childlike calm that belied his destructive display.
The destroyer's commander immediately recognized the shift in the battle's momentum. The massive warship began a desperate turn, its engines flaring bright against the star field as it tried to bring more weapons to bear while maintaining maximum shield protection. Beam emitters along its flanks fired continuously, filling the space between them with flashes of destructive energy that forced Excalibur to weave between the deadly light as if avoiding raindrops.
As the engagement continued, the two ships trading fire in a deadly dance of thrust and parry, Brennan's piloting was poetry in motion. Excalibur rolled beneath a spread of beams, then pulled into a climbing turn that brought them above the destroyer's firing arc. The young pilot's natural talent shone through every turn, every acceleration, every moment of perfect timing that brought them closer to their target while avoiding the destroyer's increasingly frantic fire. As energy beams painted space with lethal light, Brennan’s instincts guided Excalibur through patterns of movement that seemed to anticipate where the enemy's shots would be rather than simply reacting to them.
For the next several minutes, the battle raged across Alorion's orbital space. Excalibur's superior maneuverability allowed them to avoid the worst of the destroyer's firepower while delivering precise strikes against key systems. The destroyer's shields absorbed tremendous punishment. Their protective matrix flickered and sparked under the sustained assault, yet they held firm longer than Thomas had hoped.
Meanwhile, the starfighters rallied, regrouping into formation and racing back toward the fray. They dove toward Excalibur with weapons firing at maximum power, energy beams lancing from their guns in a continuous barrage as they closed to point-blank range.
Halvy's magic reached out once more, raw magical energy crackling across space to strike the attacking fighters with devastating force. Three more enemy fighters disintegrated under the assault, their hulls cracking apart as magical energy tore through their molecular structure. Metal plates peeled away like flower petals, engines exploded in brilliant flashes, and cockpits imploded as the fighters came apart in cascading failures.
Once again, the disciplined attack dissolved into panicked flight. Two of the fighters tried to maintain their attack run, diving toward Excalibur with weapons blazing. Halvy's magic swatted them aside like insects. Their ships crushed into twisted wreckage that tumbled through space trailing atmosphere and debris. In the span of seconds, the entire squadron was reduced to terrified pilots running for their lives.
While Halvy clashed with the starfighters, Brennan flew Excalibur across the theater, dodging the destroyer’s devastating beams with steadfast precision. The dance continued like that for two more minutes before the destroyer's shields finally began to show signs of failure. Percival and Burl focused on the weak spots, spearing the warship with a barrage of energy beams. The ship’s protective matrix finally blossomed into a spiderweb of stress fractures. Power fluctuations followed, rippling across the warship's hull like lightning.
“Their shields are about to go, Captain,” Tivan reported. "I'm detecting power fluctuations in their primary generators."
“Concentrate fire on the engineering section," Thomas commanded. "Break through their defenses."
Excalibur's multiple energy streams converged on the gaps beginning to appear in the destroyer's failing shields. The coherent light found their targets with devastating accuracy, striking at the most vulnerable systems with focused precision.
As critical systems finally began to overload, internal explosions bloomed along the warship's hull in cascade failures. In seconds, the destroyer's main reactor went critical. The explosion expanded outward in a perfect sphere of superheated plasma, consuming the warship's hull in an instant of terrible beauty. The flash of white light briefly outshone the system's star.
When the glare faded, nothing remained but expanding debris and the rapidly dissipating energy signatures of a once-mighty warship. Twisted fragments of metal tumbled through space, their edges still glowing with residual heat from the explosion that had created them.
"Target destroyed," Garant reported with satisfaction, his consciousness touching the sensor readings that confirmed their victory. "All enemy fighters have fled or been eliminated."
Burl's laughter echoed through the neural link. "I'd love to have seen that commander's face when he realized reinforcements weren't coming. Probably spent his last moments wondering why nobody answered his distress calls."
