The Round Table (Space Lore Book 3) (16 page)

“Whatever,” he muttered, the side of his mouth curling down.

As the ship came around the farther of the two enormous asteroids, a field of thousands of smaller asteroids came into view. A collision with any of them would impact the Griffin Fire with the force of a laser blast, tearing the ship apart in an instant. And yet the vessel continued straight toward them.

“What are you doing?” he said, looking at the control stick, which obviously wasn’t going to answer back.

Individual pebbles came into view. Too many to count. And still the Griffin Fire kept getting closer and closer to them.

“Come on.”

His hands reached down to take hold of the controls. Before he could change the ship’s path, taking it up and around the rocks, the ship turned on its own accord and began a loop around the rocks from the right side instead of over it. Looking back to his side, he saw through the cockpit viewport that if he had turned earlier and gone up instead of around, he would have collided with an asteroid that had been hidden behind the largest rock and was orbiting it.

Quickly rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Each time an obstacle presented itself and Quickly thought about how he would have taken the ship through the asteroid field, the Griffin Fire turned a different way, showing him how unmanageable and unsafe the journey was without a proven course through it. Every time he thought the autopilot was going to kill him, it made an adjustment and got him further through the maze of rocks.

Finally, half an hour later, he was in the very middle of the asteroid belt, where a force field had been established. Within it: the entire CasterLan fleet—what remained of it, at least. Gone were the days when they had one hundred Solar Carriers, another one hundred frigates and light cruisers, and swarms of Llyushin fighters. Now, in the middle of the DorEca asteroid field, there were fewer than twenty Solar Carriers and even fewer frigates. If the fleet ever left the safety of the asteroid field and faced the Vonnegan forces again, or if Mowbray’s ships decided to force them out of hiding, the CasterLan forces would cease to exist.

Crestfallen at the ragtag band of ships in front of him, he let the autopilot land the Griffin Fire for him even though he was past the last asteroid and free of danger.

On the makeshift platform, hovering next to a Solar Carrier, a figure was waiting for him. The man wore a Llyushin pilot’s outfit and, within the safety of the containment field, had a helmet under one arm.

“How many times did you want to fly a different route than what the computer had programmed?” Surrey asked, smiling.

Surrey was the one who told him he would never make it through the asteroid field unless he let the computer pilot the ship for him. And now he had a smile from ear to ear, seeing from Quickly’s slumped shoulders that he had been right.

“It’s good to see you,” Quickly said.

Gesturing at the DorEca asteroids, Surrey laughed and said, “Showed you it’s better to give up control sometimes and live instead of being stubborn and dying, huh? I had the same problem myself. You’re trained to think you always know better than the dumb autopilot. But I guess this is the one time when that’s not the case.”

Quickly shook his head. “Just get it over with and say
I told you so
.”

Surrey laughed, then asked if Morgan and the others were on their way.

“You know,” Quickly said, looking back at the Griffin Fire and how much damage it had incurred, “I hope they are, but I don’t know for sure.”

Surrey began to say something else, but Quickly wasn’t listening to his friend any more. Only then, after he had landed and was on solid ground again had he remembered the encrypted message that had been sent over from the Pendragon before he passed through the portal. Now that he remembered it, it was all he could think about.

Finding a Safe Path
, by Tim Barton - Digital Art

40

Mowbray looked out at the purple sky. Every building across the horizon reflected the same evening color, making the entire landscape look like a royal tapestry of skyscrapers. Being the capital of the Vonnegan Empire, the sky was filled with vessels of every type, some coming and others going. Out of sight, on the far side of the nearest moon, the navy yard was assembling more Athens Destroyers.

They had won the battle of Dela Turkomann. The CasterLan forces were in shambles and only continued to exist because they had gone into hiding. That didn’t mean, however, that more Athens Destroyers weren’t needed. There would be another war. There would always be another war.

If the next conflict wasn’t with the Solar Carriers and the remaining CasterLan generals who commanded them, then it would be with another kingdom’s fleet. Taking over Edsall Dark, destroying the once great CasterLan Kingdom, wasn’t what Mowbray was betting his legacy on. He needed more. More planets. More kingdoms. As soon as his fleet was rebuilt, another system would fall under his gaze and his empire would expand yet again. Then again. And again after that.

History didn’t remember the galaxy’s greatest rulers because they had won a single war or defeated a single leader. History’s greatest rulers—Mron the Destroyer, Gish the Merciless—were remembered for expanding their kingdoms to the limits of the known galaxy. Stories were told of the rulers who tripled the size of their kingdoms. The annals of history celebrated the rulers who controlled more of the galaxy than any other previous rulers. This was what Mowbray wanted.

Before he could focus on his next campaign, though, he had to deal with the information he had just been given. Vere had managed to escape from the Cauldrons of Dagda. The news didn’t make him fly into a fit of rage. He didn’t find the nearest officer and kill him merely because he could. He simply continued staring out at the expanse of purple sky, purple clouds, purple reflections.

Reading through the report, he saw that a pair of ships had landed at the prison. The raiders had freed Vere, set Balor loose within the facility, then made their way back to their ships. One of the vessels was headed back toward the furthest reaches of what had been CasterLan territory. The other—he couldn’t help but smile about this part of the report—was actually making its way further into Vonnegan space.

His first thought was that Vere and her friends were coming to kill him. She would be seeking revenge for all the death he had brought to her kingdom, for turning Edsall Dark into an extension of his own empire, for taking her Meursault blade. He imagined her ship sneaking into the capital, its occupants dispersing into the busy streets, each trying to find a way inside the royal hall, then working toward him until they killed him.

This wasn’t realistic, though. He knew it and they would surely know it. Their ship would be spotted before it got near the EndoKroy atmosphere. As soon as it was detected, one of the many orbiting Athens Destroyers would blow it out of space. Even if they hijacked a different ship and managed to land at one of the spaceports, security would spot them before they made it two blocks. And even if they managed to sneak all the way to the capitol, either the hundreds of Vonnegan guards outside the building would stop them, or his nine Fianna—his elite guards—would get them once they were inside the royal hall.

No, Vere and her allies wouldn’t be coming for him, no matter how much they wished they could. He guessed they were making their way deeper into Vonnegan space simply because they had no other choice. His ships at Terror-Dhome had blocked the portal there. Vere and her friends would have known that every Vonnegan ship between them and wherever they wanted to go would converge on their course. Their only option would be to go further toward EndoKroy, hope they could connect through a portal, and find an alternate path home.

This was what made Mowbray smile. He could have been furious that someone had escaped the Cauldrons of Dagda. It was supposed to be invulnerable, after all. He could have been especially enraged that it had been Vere who had escaped. She had become a legend after somehow surviving for two years when most inmates lasted only one week. Now that she was free, people would be tempted to think there was nothing that could destroy her. They might rally around her as some sort of symbol.

He smiled because this would give him an opportunity to remind the rest of the galaxy how thoroughly he had defeated her once before by soundly defeating her again. He also smiled because the same report said Le Savage had thrown himself into the lava fields. This only proved Mowbray had selected the best man for the job. He would have been concerned if the person he had selected for the post had instead tried to go into hiding, tried to sneak away and never be seen again. Most officers would have done that, especially after knowing what Mowbray would do to them for failing. Ninety-nine out of one hundred people would have blamed the escape on someone else, would have tried to find a way to have someone else take the punishment. It took someone who knew the importance of honor and respect to do what Le Savage had done.

Mowbray was confident that his decision-making was as sharp as ever. Behind him, as if to remind him how far it had gotten him, he peered at the sword he had taken from Vere at Dela Turkomann. The Meursault blade was hanging on the wall as his favorite trophy.

“Assemble the fleet,” he said.

There was no one in the room with him. Even his Fianna were outside his chambers. But as he watched, the two closest Athens Destroyers hovering over the planet began to turn and move toward a muster point.

Vere and her friends would die soon enough. A single ship was capable of running for a long time, but no matter how fast it was, it couldn’t run forever. In the meantime, he would find the last vestiges of the CasterLan forces and destroy them. People might think of Vere as some kind of miraculous icon because she had survived the Cauldrons when everyone else had died, but she and everyone she knew would soon be dead.

What he couldn’t tolerate, now that she was free, was allowing the remnants of her fleet to exist. As long as they did, other rulers would think they might be able to survive the appearance of Mowbray’s fleet. They might actually think they had a choice the next time hundreds of Athens Destroyers blotted out the sun and the sky above their kingdom. He would do what he should have done two years earlier; he would remind the rest of the galaxy that no one was ever free of Mowbray Vonnegan’s grip.

41

At top speed, it took the Pendragon two hours to get to the next portal. Morgan didn’t bother asking Traskk to have the ship’s sensors detect where the portal would take them. The task proved unnecessary because there was a blockade of Athens Destroyers around the enormous energy ring, preventing any ship from getting through. The Vonnegan fleet had been alerted that her ship would be coming that way and it meant to keep her from escaping.

When Traskk let out a growl from the copilot’s chair, she guessed it was directed at her and not at the array of ships parked in front of the gateway. After all, she was the one who had decided to fly further into enemy territory rather than try to escape when she had the chance.

An alarm sounded inside the cockpit. A moment later, a squadron of Thunderbolts appeared behind the gray moon nearest to the portal.

“Nothing we can do but keep going,” Morgan said, which made Traskk growl again.

After initially slowing the Pendragon slightly as they approached the portal, she once again took it back up to full speed. The pack of Thunderbolts came in behind her as the Pendragon raced past the giant circular field of light. Every one of the Vonnegan fighters fired a constant stream of laser blasts in her direction. Most of these flew harmlessly past her craft, but even with ten shots missing for every one shot that hit, her shields began to take too much fire after only a few seconds.

Another alarm sounded. An Athens Destroyer, also stationed behind the moon, began to come out as well.

Traskk’s tail began to slide back and forth across the cockpit floor, slamming into a console on one side and Morgan’s seat on the other side.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” she said, but his tail didn’t stop.

The Thunderbolts couldn’t keep up for long. Each second that went by, the Pendragon put more distance between itself and the fighters. Soon, the laser blasts stopped hitting the ship and eventually the Vonnegan pilots stopped shooting altogether. The Athens Destroyer didn’t do much better. As large as it was, it wasn’t big enough to block the Pendragon from following whatever course it wanted.

The only problem was that they were still heading further into Vonnegan space rather than returning home.

“We’ll have better luck at the next one,” she said.

Traskk’s tail stopped moving, and she thought she might have successfully reassured him. But then he turned and looked at her, narrowing the long slats of his leathery eyelids, and gave a faint hiss as his forked tongue darted out.

If Vere were there, Morgan would have told her that she finally understood how difficult it was when all of your orders were questioned, especially by someone three feet taller, with fangs and claws longer than her fingers.