The Barbarian Bride (The Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire Book 3) Read online

  The Barbarian Bride

  The Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire

  Book 3

  Christopher Nuttall

  Twilight Times Books

  Kingsport Tennessee

  The Barbarian Bride

  This is a work of fiction. All concepts, characters and events portrayed in this book are used fictitiously and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 Christopher G. Nuttall

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except brief extracts for the purpose of review, without the permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

  Twilight Times Books

  P O Box 3340

  Kingsport TN 37664

  http://twilighttimesbooks.com/

  First Edition, February 2016

  Cover art by Malcolm McClinton

  Published in the United States of America.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Interlude One

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Interlude Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  When Rome fell to barbarian invaders, there were less than five hundred qualified Centurions. Not because Rome had fewer people but because it had fewer willing to make the sacrifices. And the last Centurions left their shields in the heather and took a barbarian bride…

  —John Ringo, The Last Centurion

  Prologue

  From: Marius Drake and Roman Garibaldi: Two Lives, Two Loves, One Empire (4502 A.D)

  Ah, what is to be said of Marius Drake and Roman Garibaldi that hasn’t been said a thousand times already?

  They were the two most famous men of their generation, perhaps the two most famous men since the "Band of Brothers" punched through the Asimov Point and won the final battle of the First Interstellar War. They are the subjects of countless biographies, ranging from works claiming that one was the true hero and the other was the villain to works suggesting they were both deeply corrupt, symptoms of the decline and fall of the Federation. There are works that suggest they were victims, helpless to do anything but play their roles, and works that suggest they were playing a game with each other that cost billions upon billions of innocent lives. And last, but far from least, there are works that suggest the two men were actually lovers and the final war between them was a tragedy on a far greater scale than Romeo and Juliet.

  Indeed, history has truly hidden both men behind a shroud of nonsense.

  That said, certain claims can be made with a fair degree of certainty.

  The Federation was dying. Its government — the aristocratic and corrupt Grand Senate — was steadily sucking the lifeblood out of the countless innocent worlds in its thrall, destroying the economy that kept the Federation alive. Worse, the military had become deeply divided, with officers building little fiefdoms and patronage networks that were steadily corrupting the once-great Federation Navy. The purges that followed the Blue Star War only made it clear, to the smarter officers, that the only hope of permanent safety was in power. It should not have surprised the Grand Senate when one of them, Admiral Justinian, kicked off a civil war by mounting an attack on Earth.

  Admiral Marius Drake rose to prominence during the attack, commanding the defense of Earth. Despite his own shabby treatment by the Grand Senate, Drake remained a noted Federation loyalist, a man who refused to accept the sundering of the Federation or the thought of claiming power for himself. His loyalties were noted; Drake was placed in command, eventually, of the fleet that would seek out and destroy Admiral Justinian’s little empire once and for all.

  Less is known of Roman Garibaldi’s early life; it is known he was the sole survivor of an attack on an asteroid settlement, one who joined the Federation Navy and graduated from the Luna Academy with a First, but much else remains a mystery. It is clear, however, that he briefly took command of Enterprise during the ill-fated Operation Retribution and, in the aftermath, was recognized as an officer of rare promise. Indeed, like so many other youngsters in these troubled times, his rise up the ranks was rapid. War was no respecter of deadwood; hundreds of older officers, men who had gained their postings through patronage and connections rather than merit, had been killed in the early stages of the Justinian War. By the time Admiral Drake led his fleet into Justinian’s home system, Roman Garibaldi had assumed command of a starship.

  Unknown to either Drake or Garibaldi, the Grand Senate had come to fear Drake as much as they had feared Admiral Justinian and his fellows. Accordingly, as soon as Drake defeated Admiral Justinian once and for all, they ordered an assassin, attached to Drake’s staff, to kill him. The assassin missed: Drake’s closest friend died saving his life. In his anger and rage, Admiral Drake led his fleet back to Earth, deposed the Grand Senate and took power for himself. After declaring himself Emperor Marius, he killed the final members of the Grand Senate personally. It was an unusual move that underscored just how different the new regime was to be.

  It did not bring peace. Unknown to the Federation, a powerful alliance of humans and aliens was lurking just outside the Federation’s borders. The Outsider Federation had taken advantage of the Justinian War to lay its final plans for an offensive that would shatter the Federation, freeing hundreds of thousands of worlds from its grasp. As Roman Garibaldi assumed command of Fifth Fleet, the Outsiders moved, launching an invasion of Federation space.

  Already weakened, the Federation reeled under their blows. The economy, pushed to the limits by the Grand Senate, started to collapse, despite everything an increasingly desperate Emperor Marius could do. Political unrest and strikes mushroomed through the Core Worlds, while thousands of out-worlds joined the Outsiders or declared independence. Indeed, given his example, there was no shortage of military personnel wondering if they could take power for themselves.

  Hope shone, it seemed, when Admiral Garibaldi won the Battle of Boston, stopping the Outsider advance dead in its tracks. The Outsiders reeled in shock, contemplating — for the first time — that they might lose the war. Emperor Marius traveled to Boston, where he met Admiral Garibaldi; together, they led an offensive towards Nova Athena, ho
meworld of one of the Outsider Federation’s known leaders. But there, faced with defiance, Emperor Marius ordered the bombardment of the enemy world, threatening to exterminate uncounted billions of lives. Admiral Garibaldi moved to stop him...

  ... And the maddened Emperor opened fire on Garibaldi’s ships, then retreated.

  The stage was set for the final confrontation between the two greatest men of their generation... and a war that would determine, once and for all, the future of the Federation.

  Chapter One

  In the end, personal loyalty proved to be more important to the Federation Navy than its ideals or the Federation Constitution. But then, perhaps that was not surprising. The only way to rise in the ranks was through joining a senior officer’s patronage network. Being promoted on merit was a thing of the past.

  —The Federation Navy in Retrospect, 4199

  Nova Athena, 4101

  The universe had turned upside down, once again.

  “The Outsider shuttle is approaching, sir,” Lieutenant Sofia Thompson reported. She looked up from her console in the CIC. “They’ll land in the shuttlebay in five minutes.”

  “Have the passengers scanned thoroughly before allowing them to enter the ship,” Admiral Roman Garibaldi ordered, numbly. “Once they’re cleared, bring them to the briefing compartment under guard.”

  “Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Thompson said. She frowned. “Sir... they might not like being scanned and searched.”

  Roman laughed, harshly. “And I don’t like running the risk of someone bringing an antimatter bomb onto the ship,” he said. “We’re not going to take chances.”

  He looked up at the console, watching grimly as the boxy shuttlecraft approached the massive superdreadnaught. No matter what he said, he doubted the Outsiders would try anything so stupid — Valiant was hardly the only superdreadnaught in Fifth Fleet — but he wouldn’t have believed that Emperor Marius would attempt to commit genocide either. A great many certainties had toppled since Admiral Justinian had launched his attack on Earth nine years ago, sparking off a series of increasingly-bitter civil wars. And the Outsiders, his enemies up until an hour ago, had to be almost as confused as he was.

  The shuttle vanished from the display as it landed in the shuttlebay. Roman watched through the monitors as armed marines surrounded the craft, then motioned for the occupants to come out with their hands clearly visible. Everyone was jumpy, now that they were caught in the middle of yet another civil war. Roman had made a career out of knowing what to do at the right time, but he honestly wasn’t sure what to do now. He and his fleet were renegades, to all intents and purposes; he wondered, absently, just how many of his crewmen were considering burying a blade in his back. Bringing his head back to Earth would be certain to earn his assassin a rich reward.

  Or a date with a firing squad, he thought, mordantly. The Emperor has become increasingly irrational.

  He shuddered at the thought. Emperor Marius — Admiral Drake, as he’d been at the time — had seemed a strong leader, the sort of person Roman could follow into the fire without hesitation. Roman had wanted to be like him, even as he’d started to build a legend of his own. And he’d followed Admiral Drake until he’d been promoted and given command of Fifth Fleet. Even then, he’d wanted to make Emperor Marius proud of him. He would have done anything for his mentor...

  Except commit genocide, he thought. In hindsight, there had been far too many worrying signs before Professor Kratman came to see him. God alone knew what had happened to the Outsider POWs, but after the Battle of Nova Athena he wouldn’t have bet money on them surviving for long. I couldn’t kill billions of humans on his command.

  His intercom buzzed. “Admiral,” Elf said. His Marine CO — and his lover — sounded efficient, as always. “We have two guests: Senator Chang Li, the former Representative from Nova Athena and General Charlie Stuart. The remainder of the crew are the shuttle’s pilots.”

  “Have the pilots held for the moment,” Roman ordered. “Is the shuttle itself safe?”

  “Yes, Admiral,” Elf said. “There’s nothing more dangerous than a pair of fuel cells and a couple of pistols.”

  Roman let out a breath. An antimatter warhead would be shrugged off by the ship’s shields, if it detonated outside the hull, but a bomb that detonated inside the ship would blow them all to atoms. The Outsiders had to know they’d lost the war — or that they had, before Emperor Marius opened fire on their world — and they might have taken advantage of the brief truce to destroy Valiant. What hope did they have, other than the vague prospect of clawing the Federation as they went down?

  “Take Chang and the General to the briefing compartment,” he ordered, tiredly. He wanted — needed — a rest, but he knew he wasn’t going to get one. “I’ll join you there in a moment.”

  He closed the channel, then looked at the display. Hundreds of icons were scattered around the system; Fifth Fleet, surrounded by a cloud of starfighters, kept its distance from the remaining Outsider ships and planetary defenses. God alone knew what would happen, if some jumpy idiot pushed a firing key. Roman knew, deep inside, that the only real hope for survival was an alliance. But even that wouldn’t be enough to save them, if Emperor Marius acted quickly. Roman knew, all too well, just how easy it would be for the Emperor to snatch the fleet train, then Boston itself. Losing the fleet base would doom his fleet to eventual irrelevance.

  Unless the Outsiders can supply us, he thought. But they can barely supply themselves.

  “Inform Captain Palter that he has tactical command of the fleet,” he ordered. “He is to hold position and wait for orders, unless we come under attack. If so, he is to break contact as fast as possible and head for the system limits.”

  “Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Thompson said.

  Roman sighed, then rose and walked through the hatch, passing the armored marine who stood outside. The corridor beyond was deserted, the crew at their combat stations... he wondered, suddenly, just what would happen when the red alert finally came to an end and crewmen started to talk. There would be crewmen, he was sure, who would think nothing of genocide, who would care little for Outsider lives if their deaths ended a pitiless war. And some of them would be loyalists, loyal to Emperor Marius. A handful might even have been covertly inserted onto his crew to watch Roman himself.

  His hand dropped to the sidearm at his belt as he walked down the empty corridor, even though he was sure he was alone. The crew was armed; they’d faced enemies intent on actually boarding starships several times in the past. If even a handful thought to mutiny against his authority, either in the Emperor’s name or merely to prevent another round of civil war, there was going to be a bloodbath. He wasn’t even sure he could count on the loyalty of the marines...

  Elf will keep them in line, he thought. But where will she stand?

  It was a bitter thought. The marines prided themselves on being loyal to the Federation, on standing up for its values even as everyone else abandoned them. He had no reason to doubt Elf’s loyalty to the Federation, but what would she make of it now, after Emperor Marius had tried to commit genocide? It wasn’t as if they’d fired on aliens!

  She’d tell me if she thought I was wrong, he thought. They’d been lovers for almost a decade. I can trust her.

  He paused outside the hatch, taking a moment to gather himself, then opened the hatch and stepped into the briefing compartment. Elf stood against the bulkhead, wearing her light combat armor and carrying a plasma rifle in one hand; two other marines, wearing heavier armor, stood against the far wall. Senator Chang Li and General Stuart sat at the table, both looking tired and wary. Roman couldn’t help thinking, as he cast his eyes over Stuart, that the Outsiders preferred far more practical uniforms than the Federation Navy. Stuart’s uniform looked to be almost completely devoid of fancy gold braid.

  “Senator, General,” he said. “I am Admiral Garibaldi. Welcome onboard Valiant.”

  He studied them both as they rose. Chang Li was shor
ter than he’d expected, from her file; her long dark hair framed a middle-aged Oriental face. She’d been a Senator on Earth, he recalled; she’d been the sole Senator from the out-worlds before Admiral Justinian had launched his attack on Earth. Roman reminded himself not to underestimate her or her people, even though the Federation Navy had won the engagement. The Outsiders had to have been plotting their campaign long before Admiral Justinian started a civil war.

  And the Emperor had some inkling there were unfriendly alien races out beyond the Rim, he thought. It couldn’t have made it any easier to deal with the Outsiders when they finally showed themselves.

  General Stuart was a complete unknown, according to the files; indeed, only a handful of data packets from deep-cover agents had provided any information at all. He’d been the enemy commander at Athena and Boston, putting Roman to flight in his first major engagement; the Outsiders, it seemed, hadn’t adopted the Grand Senate’s policy of shooting defeated admirals out of hand. It would give Stuart a chance to learn from the mistakes that had led to defeat at Boston, assuming the war didn’t end quickly. And Stuart looked reassuringly competent. Roman just hoped Stuart was competent enough to make up for his earlier mistakes.

  “Admiral,” Chang Li said. “Thank you for receiving us.”

  Roman shrugged, not entirely sure what to say. He’d assumed, prior to the battle, that he — or Emperor Marius — would be dictating surrender terms, hopefully ending the Outsider War once and for all. But instead... he was forced into an alliance with his former enemies, now that the Emperor had gone mad. Roman couldn’t help feeling torn between two competing loyalties; Marius Drake, the man who had sponsored him, and the ideals of the Federation, the ideals he’d upheld even as others had abandoned them.

  And the Emperor did try to kill us, he thought, grimly. If it had been just him, he would have taken a starship and fled beyond the Rim, but he knew he wouldn’t be the only target of the Empire’s wrath. We don’t have any choice; we must fight.