Van Laven Chronicles (22 page)

CHAPTER 40

“It is merely a show of force,” Crausin replied, hiding his alarm as they hurried down the corridor toward the command center. When had Larrs discovered his daughter’s affair with Comron? To assemble such an enormous attack force, he had to have known at least a day before he learned of it. He hated feeling a step behind that infuriatingly despicable man.

“With all due respect, Sire,” Straland answered. “One does not assemble a force of that size and magnitude for mere saber rattling. Bastionli is loaded for bear and is blazing a path to our door.”

“Raise our defenses, assemble a counterstrike force,” Crausin ordered.
Dear God, Comron what have you done to us?

“I can have full planetary shields raised in a quarter of an hour, all major cities in less.”

“I want it done in half that time,” Crausin commanded as the steel doors of the command center parted before them.

“Yes, Sire.”

The command center was alive with activity as the officers manned their posts speaking into their com units and reviewing the positions of their forces on the large holographic screens. Some of the officers glanced surreptitiously at their Duke as if wondering if this weren’t some rather elaborate drill.

“Sire, I must reiterate that this is not proper protocol,” Straland said. “We need to move you and the royal family underground to Command Base One for your protection.”

“Northridge Castle is a fortress unto itself,” Crausin replied irritably. “I will remain here. Set up a private communication link in one of the conference rooms here.”

“But Sire.”

“Do as you’re told,” Crausin snapped. “Open a channel to the flagship. I will know the meaning of this dog’s impudence and gross disregard of inter-planetary law.”

Crausin had dreamed of a day when Nethic and Ti-Laros would face each other on the battlefield, but not like this, not under these ridiculous circumstances. It infuriated him that Nethicaen history would forever remember Comron as the traitor who instigated a war by crawling into bed with the Bastionlis.

He considered hauling Comron up from the cellar to face the calamity that he had wrought, but decided to leave him below so that he could focus his full attention on Larrs Bastionli.

General Straland informed him that the communication link had been established. Crausin watched as the large black screens that blinked to life displayed holographic images of the defense mechanisms erected all over the planet. The two screens at the center displayed the oncoming armada of Ti-Larosian warships.

Crausin’s chest heaved at the fearsome sight. But his pride was restored at the sight of the mighty Nethicaen fleet rising with its own impressive company of warships and world-class destroyers. Outnumbered two to one, it was enough to make Bastionli think twice about any rash moves.

“Sire, Bastionli is hailing you,” said Straland.

“Accept and provide visual,” Crausin replied, drawing himself up for the confrontation.

Instantly, Larrs Bastionli appeared upon the screen, plainly incensed and outraged. But it was Crausin who spoke first.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blast you and your fleet straight to hell,” he said. “According to conventional inter-planetary law, I would be well within my rights to do so.”

“Where is she, you maggot-faced trout?” Larrs seethed, his dark eyes as piercing as daggers.

“Your wife? I sent her back home after she finished sucking me off,” Crausin gave the customary reply to such an insult.

“Look at your monitors, Van Laven,” Larrs fumed. “Do you think that I’m in the mood to be trifled with?”

“And you look at yours!” Crausin shot back. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to wipe your clan out of existence with the law fully on my side. You have five seconds to give me a good reason for violating Nethicaen space.”

“Since when does inter-planetary law defend kidnapping? I’m here for my daughter!”

Crausin scoffed convincingly. “What makes you think we’d pollute our land with the Bastionli filth? Your daughter isn’t here.” Crausin was fairly certain that Comron had her off-world. “But according to the law, you have the right to search for her,” Crausin stated evenly. “You can scan the whole of Nethic but you won’t find her here.”

“Then where is she? Tell me and this business will end as quickly as it began.”

Larrs’ legendary cool veneer was slipping and Crausin could hear the hint of fear in his voice. “How the hell should I know?”

“And since when did House Van Laven start falling on its knees so eager to lick Ti-Larosian slit?” It was Larrs’ turn to savor Crausin’s discomfort. “Granted, our women’s cream has always tasted better than wine, but
damn
….that boy of yours lapped it up like he’d never had anything so good.” His hawk-like eyes narrowed as the smile tugged at his lips. “Speaking of which, where is that freakish doppelganger of yours? I thought that you had him surgically attached at the hip.”

The color rose in Crausin’s face. “I am…dealing with him concerning recent events.”
And when I’m through with him, his tongue will be the only thing he’ll have left with which to pleasure a woman.

“I don’t give a crag’s ass what you’re doing to him. Just give me back my daughter!”

Crausin leaned forward elbows on the table and fingers steepled. “Poor inept Larrs. All these years of meticulously plotting and scheming only to discover that in a single day – you’ve been masterfully outmaneuvered by none other than House Van Laven.”

Larrs’ eye twitched as he glowered at Crausin. “Van Laven…still dwelling on that festering dung heap you call Nethic. It sickens me to be in your orbit, so foul is its stench. I’m giving you one last chance to hand the girl over, then I’m going to do to Nethic what Sellusion attempted to do three centuries ago – blast your world into oblivion. Let’s see you outmaneuver that…
bitch
.”

Crausin waved his hand dismissively at Larrs’ image. “See, now you’ve gone and bored me. If you think we have her, go ahead and scan for her. Meanwhile, I’m filing an official complaint with the imperial security council concerning this infraction.” His tone turned deadly, “So that when we blast you and your little shite-smeared fleet out of our skies, we’ll have full jurisdiction to do so.”

Larrs’ expression remained implacable. “Then you grant us clearance to launch derma-grade probes for the search?” he said, in even tone.

Stalling for time to finish interrogating Comron, Crausin answered, “Launch your probes if you must, but know that you have one hour before we open fire on any unauthorized vessels in our orbit.”

“Agreed,” Larrs bit off the word before cutting the com link.

Crausin hurried out of the private conference room, ignoring the astonished looks on his officers’ faces at their stations. He would force the information from Comron and send Recaban’s men to kill Vaush before Larrs’ probes could finish their sweep.

He glanced up at the screens as he passed. The monitors zeroed in on the four orbs that shot out of the bow of the Ti-Larosian flagship. The diagnostic screen displayed the schematics revealing standard probes, no warheads or weapons attached.

General Straland quickly fell into step with Crausin while carrying a portable monitor. “Sire, it appears that he has launched Faren type II probes. Slightly odd configuration, but harmless enough.”

Just then the screens flashed red and alarms began to sound. “What in the blazes,” Straland said as he read the schematics, his face now ashen as he grabbed his com unit. “The probes!” he blurted out and hurried to a battlestation, “Shoot them down! Shoot the bloody probes down!”

Crausin grabbed his arm. “What is it? What do you see?”

“EMP, Sire!”

“But there were no warheads on the probes!” Crausin replied.

“Our scanners were deceived,” Straland answered. “During your communication, Bastionli must have launched a virus that attacked our close range scanners. We saw only what they wanted us to see.”

They turned to the monitors in time to witness a Nethicaen warship destroying two of the probes, while the other two detonated above the Nethicaen atmosphere sending gamma ray pulses through the air. Almost instantly the electrical powergrid failed, plunging them into darkness. But within seconds the secondary power sources that were shielded from such an attack brought systems back on line.

The reports starting pouring in – those few seconds had given Ti-Laros all the time it needed to send in four Targon fighters to penetrate the Nethicaen force field and destroy the generators that powered the planetary shield array.

“They have taken down our shields, Sire,” Straland reported in an incredulous tone. “We’re completely vulnerable to their attack.”

The ground shuddered, punctuating Straland’s words and bearing witness that the bombardment had begun.

“Assemble all of our forces!” Crausin barked. “A third of his fleet is no match against our full naval might.”

“General,” a young officer approached them. “Long range sensors show another battalion of Bastionli warships en route to Nethic.”

“This was just the first wave,” Straland dismissed the officer and his gaze fell upon the Duke. “What’s this all about, Sire? I must know in order to formulate the proper battle strategy.”

“Do your job and defend Nethic. That’s all the strategy you need,” Crausin scowled as he headed toward the corridor. “Send some men to locate the Queen and my sons. Take them below to Command Base One.”

“Where are
you
going?”

“I’m going to get Comron,” he said, “We’ll join you at the base.”

CHAPTER 41

Just one more hit, damn it!
Comron thought as one arm dangled precariously, the rafter having been cracked under the bombardment. Feeling faint from loss of blood and the poison acid, he marshalled his strength and pulled with all his might to wrench the rafter completely free.

              “Arrg!” he groaned aloud and then heard the loud craaack of the rafter coming loose and crashing to the floor. The place rocked and shuddered again sending a spray of dirt and grime raining down upon him. He dragged the heavy wooden rafter over to the tools scattered on the floor from the over-turned table. He grabbed one of the sharp spikes and proceeded to pick himself free of the wrist and ankle restraints.

Still shaken by the ordeal and covered in blood and grime, he rose unsteadily on his good leg and spotted his clothes folded in a chair. Gingerly he pulled the shirt over his mangled flesh and slipped into his trousers. Another blast sent him crashing into the wall as more of the rafters came down. Quickly, he made his way across the fallen debris toward the stairs.

The door above flew open and the light nearly blinded him. Voices shouted in confusion as someone hurried down the stairs. Comron crouched low to the ground and picked up a heavy piece of wood that had broken off from the rafters. Adrenalin coursed through his body, priming him for the attack.

“Look what you’ve done to us! I should kill you for this!” Crausin screamed as he and another guard reached the bottom of the stairs. “Where’d you hide the filthy bitch? Where—”

Comron swung the heavy board at Crausin’s head and knocked him out in one blow. The guard turned at the commotion and tried to signal for help, but Comron struck him hard and removed his com unit. He hesitated just long enough to ensure himself Crausin was still breathing then ascended the stairs to his freedom.

As he stumbled through the corridor, his head was spinning and he trembled uncontrollably. He feared he wouldn’t be able to make it to the hangar to find a transport. He stopped by the empty infirmary and rummaged through till he found some anesthesia and stimulants to dull his pain but keep him awake.

He made his way through the corridors amidst the bedlam and hid himself as servants and castle guards ran for shelter from the bombardment. Finally, he reached the south entry of Northridge Castle and hurried out toward their private hangar. There, he boarded a transport ship and after deactivating the ship’s tracking device and initiating scanning shields, he laid in the coordinates for Ketherton Sound.

As the transport ascended, and he saw the devastation being wrought on Northridge Castle and the surrounding area, Comron was compelled to do something to halt the attack. He accessed Vaush’s pre-recorded message to Laney informing her that she would be another day at the Wenham Habitat assisting the rescue effort for the flood victims. With a time stamp of less than eight hours ago, it should give Ti-Laros a new scent to track in their hunt for Vaush.

The message was off, Comron was certain that Larrs was monitoring all of Vaush’s private communications and would detect this message within seconds. But his body would not give him those additional seconds to see if his theory proved true. The poison acid overwhelmed him and began shutting down his traumatized system. The room spun around him and he fell unconscious to the floor as the transport sped on its way to Ketherton Sound.