The Armageddon Inheritance

“I do.”

“But the relativity aspects would make it impossible,” Colin protested. “The stations have to be synchronized.”

“Not so finely as you may believe,” Dahak said. “In practice, it would simply require that the receiving ship maintain approximately the same relativistic time. Given the number of crewed vessels available to us, it might well prove possible to select an appropriate unit. I could then transmit you to that unit in the event that Dahak’s destruction becomes probable.”

“I don’t like the idea of ru

“Now thou’rt childish, my Colin,” Jiltanith said firmly. “Thou knowest how feel we all towards Dahak, yet thy presence will not halt the missile or beam which would destroy him. How shall thy death make his less dreadful?”

“Her Majesty is correct,” Dahak said, equally firmly. “You would not refuse to evacuate via lifeboat, and there is little difference, except in that your chances of survival are many orders of probability higher via mat-trans. Please, Colin. I would feel much better if you would agree.”

Colin was stubbornly silent. Of course it was illogical, but that was part of the definition of friendship. Yet they were right. It was only the premeditation of the means whereby he would desert his friend that bothered him.

“All right,” he sighed at last. “I don’t like it, but … do it, Vlad.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

The dot of Zeta Trianguli Australis burned unchanged, for the fury of its death had not yet crossed the light-years.

Senior Fleet Captain Sarah Meir, promoted when Colin evicted Dahak’s crew, sat on the planetoid Ashar’s command deck and frowned as she watched it, recalling the dark, hopeless years when she and her Terra-born fellows had fought with Nergal’s Imperials against Anu’s butchers. There was no comparison between then and now … except that the days were dark once more and hope was scarce.

Scarce, but not vanished, she reminded herself, and if Colin’s reckless battle plan shocked her, it was its very audacity which gave them a hope of victory. That, and the quality of their ships and handful of crews.

And Dahak. It always came back to Dahak, but, then, it always had. He’d stood sponsor for them all, Earth’s inheritance from the Imperium on this eve of Armageddon. It might be atavistic of her, but Dahak was their totem, and—

“Captain, we have an inbound hyper wake. A big one,” her plotting officer said, and adrenalin flushed through her system.

“Nail it down,” she said, “and fire up the hypercom.” Acknowledgments came back, and she called up Engineering. “Stand by for Enchanach Drive.”

“Yes, ma’am. Core tap nominal. We’re ready to move.”

“Stand by.” She looked back up at Plotting. “Well?”

“We’ve got an emergence, ma’am. Ninety-eight hours, about a light-month short of the vanguard’s emergence locus.”

Sarah frowned. Damned if she would’ve hypered in this close to the “monster nest-killers” the vanguard must have reported! Still, with their piddling communication range, they had to come in fairly close … and a light-month gave them plenty of time to hyper out if bad guys came at them.

Usually, she thought coldly, but not this time. Oh, no. Not this time.

“Communications, inform the flagship. Maneuvering, head for the rendezvous, but take us on a dog-leg. I want a cross-bearing on this wake.”

Stars streamed across the display, and she relaxed. In another four days the uncertainty would end … one way or another.

Great Lord of Order Hothan twiddled all four thumbs as he replayed Sorkar’s messages yet again. Hothan was small for a Protector, quick-moving and keen-witted. Indeed, he had been severely disciplined as a fledgling for near-deviant inquisitiveness and almost denied his lordship for questioning what he perceived as inefficiencies in the Nest’s starships. Yet even Battle Comp agreed that those very faults made him an excellent strategist and tactician, and they had helped Great Lord Tharno select him for this duty.

Yet Sorkar’s reports made him more than simply curious. There was a near-hysterical edge to them, most unlike his old nestmate. But, then, this was the Demon Sector, and Sorkar always had been a bit superstitious.

“Emergence confirmed and plotted,” Dahak a

Colin grunted and ran down his mental list one last time. Dahak was at eighty-six percent efficiency; his other ships were all at ninety or above. All magazines were topped up, and transferring Dahak’s skeleton crew to Ashar had given them sixteen autonomous units once more. They were as ready as they could get, he thought, deliberately not looking at the hastily-installed mat-trans which had replaced the tactical officer’s couch and console.

“All right, Dahak, saddle up. Get the minelayers moving.”

“Acknowledged.” The unma

The colliers reached their stations and paused, adjusting their formation delicately before they began to move once more, now at sublight speeds.

The brevity of the first clash with the vanguard, coupled with the ships lost at Zeta Trianguli, meant Colin had more spare missiles than pla

He bared his teeth. Mines were seldom used outside star systems, for it was impossible to guess where an enemy might come out between stars. But this time he didn’t have to guess; he knew, and the Achuultani weren’t going to like it a bit.

Great Lord Hothan stretched one last time before he folded his legs and sank onto his duty pad. Before Sorkar’s messages, Hothan had not worried about routine emergences from hyper in interstellar space, but he had no more idea how the nest-killers had surprised Sorkar than Battle Comp did, and, like Great Lord Tharno, he was determined to guard his own command.

His nestlings had been carefully instructed before entering hyper. They would emerge as prepared to confront enemies as nestmates, yet if these nest-killers were indeed the demons Sorkar had described that might not be enough, and so he and Great Lord Tharno had taken a radical decision with Battle Comp’s full concurrence. Protectors could not serve the Nest if they perished; should the nest-killers be waiting once more, prepared to kill his ships in great twelves, he would return to hyper and flee.

He watched the chronometer and checked Battle Comp for final advice. There was none, and he made himself relax. Half a day-segment to emergence.

Colin watched the hyper traces flash blood-red in Dahak’s holo projection as the vanguard’s tattered couriers and the main body rushed together. They would rendezvous in one more hour, and the battle would begin. It would be a battle, too; more terrible than the oncoming Achuultani could possibly imagine. And probably more terrible than he could imagine, as well.

Dahak floated at the core of a globe of fifty-four stupendous planetoids, and Colin felt a brief stab of unutterable loneliness as he realized he was the sole living, breathing scrap of blood and bone in all that horrific array of firepower. He shook it off; there were other things to consider.