Triumphant

by Jack Campbell

  After spending another moment gazing into the dark to order her thoughts, Mele called over the local command circuit. “Giddings. Lamar.”

  “Right here,” Giddings said.

  Lamar hustled over, settling next to her.

  “Alternate command circuit two,” Mele said, waiting until both of her noncommissioned officers gave her the thumbs-up to confirm they were on the new circuit. “Here’s the deal. Glitch has confirmed that the prisoners the enemy has taken are on that freighter. We can be sure of that. Once the enemy realizes that four destroyers just came in on our side—”

  “Four destroyers?” Lamar blurted out.

  “Yeah,” Mele said, trying not to let fatigue and stress make her impatient. “Sorry I didn’t tell you that. That’ll give the space squids five destroyers counting our own, which I’m told is real good odds. But if that freighter heads for home with our people aboard as prisoners, the squids will face the choice of either trying to knock out the freighter knowing they’ll probably kill at least some of our own people, or letting the freighter go to ensure our people don’t get killed.”

  “That’s all they can do?” Giddings asked.

  “That’s all they can do,” Mele said. “Which means the Marines have to get the job done. We have to get aboard that freighter and take control of it before it pulls away.”

  “Five of us?” Lamar said.

  “We’ve also got the four ground forces guys,” Mele said. “Look, we don’t have to control the whole freighter. We just have to grab their control deck and the power core controls compartment. Engineering control. We’ve practiced doing this, boarding freighters and taking them under our control. This’ll be just like that.”

  “But there’ll be all those enemy soldiers nearby,” Giddings said. “Won’t they come charging in to take back control?”

  “We’ve got four more destroyers coming! Plus Saber. We tell those enemy ground apes that the freighter can’t outrun those destroyers, which is true, and their escort warships are about to get blown away, also true, and if those ground apes maybe want to survive instead of dying futile and meaningless deaths, they’d better rethink things. Commodore Geary thinks the enemy warships will bolt in about a day, leaving the freighter and all the enemy ground apes behind.”

  “Maybe they’d just surrender then,” Lamar said.

  “Maybe,” Mele agreed. “Or maybe they’d load up in the freighter and force it to leave, knowing our squids can’t shoot them up while they have some of our people aboard as hostages. We need to make sure that option is closed off before the enemy realizes they need it.”

  “Okay,” Lamar said. “Yeah. Yes, ma’am. It’ll be risky. But better than sitting back and watching our friends die. How do we get on the freighter? There’re bound to be sentries and sensors watching for any threat to it.”

  “Ninja told me she thinks she can make a worm that’ll fool the enemy sensors into seeing us as friendlies.”

  “Deception,” Giddings said. “Yes. That’s good. We’d just have to get the worm into their network.”

  “Can you do that?” Mele asked.

  “I’ve pulled some net gear off enemy armor, so, maybe, Major, we can do that if Ninja gets us that worm.”

  “She’s good, right?” Lamar said.

  “I wouldn’t want her going after my systems,” Giddings said.

  “But you said she thinks she can do it, ma’am? What if she can’t?”

  Mele tried to rub her forehead, her palm instead hitting the front of her helmet. “I’m open to ideas.”

  “How about if we Marines pretend to be guards and the four friendly ground apes we’ve got are our prisoners and we’re taking them to the freighter—”

  “We’d need five functional sets of enemy battle armor,” Giddings said.

  “Okay, so if the friendly ground apes pretend to be guards and we Marines pretend to be prisoners, we’d only need four functional sets of enemy armor,” Lamar said.

  “We haven’t even got one,” Giddings said.

  “Can we capture any armor?” Mele asked. “Stage an ambush and strip the bodies?”

  Giddings shook his head. “We could kill four or five of them, but getting functional armor off them that we could wear without looking like the walking dead? And without the enemy armor systems wiping themselves to prevent us using them? Major, what do you think the odds of that are? And we’d have to strip off the armor before an enemy reaction force got to the ambush site, and the enemy would see that we’d stolen four or five sets of armor and they’d probably figure we’d done that for a reason and—”

  “Yeah,” Mele said. “That won’t fly. How about a diversion? Something to grab their attention so that even if the worm doesn’t work one hundred percent we can still get to the freighter before they notice?”

  “We’d need another element to handle the diversion,” Lamar said. “Even with the friendly ground apes this group is pretty low on numbers. But if it gets confusing enough, and we can position ourselves to jump across to the freighter when the right moment comes, we might be able to get through before anyone realizes what we’re doing. I mean, they won’t expect it, will they? It’s a little crazy.”

  “I’m going to be honest with you,” Mele said. “It’s a lot crazy. Until those new warships showed up to help us it would’ve been totally crazy. I need to get in contact with Gunny. Hopefully he’s got enough left with him to manage a diversion. Hey, suppose about the time the diversion starts, we also make sure all of the enemy ground apes learn that they’re facing five destroyers now, and their chances of winning and escaping have just entered a decaying orbit and will end in a big, ugly crater? Their own officers might not have been told, even if their senior commander got the word, and I bet he or she hasn’t. Their squids might be staying quiet on that to avoid, you know, worrying the ground apes.”

  “Space squids and senior officers can be really considerate that way,” Corporal Lamar said. “Present company excepted, of course.”

  “I doubt I’ll ever be a senior officer,” Mele said. “I’ve only gotten this far by sacrificing corporals whenever I needed to stage a diversion. Get me Gunny, Glitch.”

  “Yes, ma’am. But first we need to move.”

  “Okay. Let’s try not to get caught and killed on the way to the next hiding spot. Lamar—”

  “Got it, Major. We’re moving again, boys and girls! Ford! Take point!”

  They moved out behind a gloomy and grumbling Private Ford.

  CHAPTER 13

  “Living like a rat sucks,” Private MacKinder complained as he crawled through a hole into a six-meter-long hall that had been sealed off at both ends.

  “Try walking point every time,” Private Ford replied.

  “Shut up,” Corporal Lamar said. “Mac, since you’ve got so much energy you can waste some bellyaching, you’re on sentry.”

  Mele looked about the space, darkness shrouding both ends. The four ground forces soldiers had stayed mostly silent and now sat down together as if their last link to their unit would be lost if they were separated. “Are you apes okay?”

  “Yes, Major,” one answered. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re working on that. Glitch, do you think you can get links from in here?”

  “Yes, Major. There’s a comms router that should be . . . yeah. Right inside this wall.”

  She stooped to look at the web of connections that he’d uncovered. “Sergeant, if I haven’t mentioned this lately, you’re doing amazing work. I don’t know where we’d be without your skills when it comes to comms and systems.”

  Giddings perked up. “Thank you, Major. I’ll get ahold of Gunny.”

  “Great. Do it and I’ll make you a lieutenant.”

  “Major, why would you tell me I’m doing a great job and then threaten to punish me?”

 
“Fine,” Mele said. “Do it and you can stay a sergeant.”

  That took another forty-five minutes. Mele spent the time going over the schematics of the facility, figuring out a path over that distance that would bring her group undetected to where they could get onto the dock in a place that would give them a shot at reaching the ship. They’d be heading toward the enemy’s strongest positions, through areas the enemy must have mapped by now, and probably lined with sensors that would have to be spoofed or avoided and mines that would have to be spotted.

  “I’ve got him, Major!”

  “I need a diversion, Gunny,” Mele said over a circuit that popped and faded and hissed as agile jamming fought agile frequency hops. “On the dock. So my group can get to the freighter.”

  “Okay, Major,” Gunnery Sergeant Moon said, just as if this were a routine request for paperwork or something equally mundane. “Diversion. Where are you going to be?”

  “We’re going to come onto the dock on the right side as you face outward toward the freighter.”

  “So we need to kick up dust on the left side,” Moon said. “How big a fuss do we want to make?”

  “As big as you can manage. I need it at 0400 facility time. Can you get into position by then?”

  “No problem, Major.”

  “If you can get another group in that part of the facility to assist you, tell them it’s on my orders. We need to take that freighter, so we need as big a diversion as you can manage.”

  “Yes, Major. At least you won’t have to jump to get to the ship.”

  “Say again?”

  “You won’t have to jump. They docked their ship. You can walk right on.”

  “I doubt we’ll be walking the whole way, but that’ll be a lot easier. Thanks, Gunny.”

  “No—”

  “Gunny? Say again.” Nothing. The comm light on Mele’s suit glowed a steady red. “We lost the link,” she told Giddings. “In about an hour and a half, try to get a connection to Ninja again. At that time, we’ll also record my announcement for the enemy soldiers and figure out how to upload it to where it’ll broadcast at the right time. But first, Sergeant, spend about an hour sleeping. That’s an order.”

  She realized there was something yet to be done, getting up and moving quietly toward where the four ground forces soldiers were still huddled in a tired, dispirited clump. “Are you guys ready for duty?” Mele asked. “We’ve got an operation coming up.”

  “Another reposition, ma’am?”

  “No. We’ll be moving back to the dock area. We’re going to attack the ship the enemy troops came in on.”

  The soldiers looked back at her, their expressions hidden behind the face shields of their armor, yet somehow conveying bafflement. “We’re going to attack?” one asked.

  “Yes. The prisoners they’ve taken from us are being held on that ship.”

  The ground forces soldiers perked up for the first time since they’d joined up with Mele’s group. “We’re going to free the prisoners, Major? Get ’em out of the prison?”

  “Not exactly,” Mele said. “We’re going to capture the prison.”

  “The five of you? Ma’am?”

  “No, we expect you to help. That’ll make nine of us. Five Marines and four force recon. I think that’s enough to do the job.”

  The ground forces soldiers hesitated, then all four straightened to attention again and saluted. “Yes, ma’am,” the first said. “That’s enough. Just tell us what to do.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Lochan Nakamura sat at one of the small tables in the dining area on the destroyer. Militaries mysteriously called dining areas “mess halls” for reasons he didn’t care to speculate about. He slumped in the small, hard seat, his head in his hands.

  He’d come this far. He’d succeeded in finding help, and not long ago had learned from Commodore Geary’s message that Mele Darcy was still alive. But until these ships actually arrived at the world they were aiming for, Mele would still be in tremendous peril every moment. He might have gotten here just quickly enough to avenge Mele rather than fast enough to save her.

  “Are you all right?” one of Asahi’s sailors asked, sitting down opposite Lochan.

  He looked up, forced a tiny smile, and nodded. “I’m okay.”

  “Something’s bothering you,” the sailor said, taking a moment to look over his meal. “Have you eaten? It’s a good meal today.”

  “Compared to food on a freighter, it’s wonderful,” Lochan said. “I just . . . how do you stand it?”

  “Stand what?”

  “We’re here. We can see where we need to go. But it’s literally taking days to get there, at a time when every second counts.”

  “Oh.” The sailor nodded. “That does take some getting used to. We don’t think in space ways, you know. Humans think, ‘I can see that, so it can’t be too far off.’ But space isn’t like that. You look outside and you can see forever. That’s not an exaggeration. You’re seeing things billions of light years away, and billons of years in the past. That’s pretty neat, huh?”

  “It’s pretty hard to deal with at a time like this,” Lochan said.

  “It’s a long way.” The sailor pointed a utensil in a direction that must be toward the planet they were aiming for. “Not so long ago in our history, getting from one planet to another would take weeks or months. I think maybe years for outer planets. Being able to cover that distance now in just days is remarkable.” He smiled sympathetically at Lochan. “Did you ever think that you’re looking into the past when you look at one of the planets? Like the one we’re heading toward. We’re still about two light hours from it. So when you look at it, you’re seeing that planet two hours ago. You’re looking at history, things that already happened.”

  Lochan looked that way, seeing only the gray bulkhead of the ship. “History. Things that have happened. Too late to change. I’m sorry, but that doesn’t cheer me up. Someone I care about may die before we can get there.”

  “That’s difficult. We’re doing all we can.”

  “I know. And I’m enormously grateful for what you’re doing. That we have a chance to save my friend at all is because you were willing to help a distant neighbor in need.”

  “We all eat from the same iron pot, don’t we? I was told people came to the stars so they could get away from other people. But there are always other people. You can ignore them, or fight them, or become their friends. I think we should be friends.”

  Lochan couldn’t help a smile in return. “We should be friends. But you’re a sailor on a warship. Your job is to fight other people.”

  “My job is to be ready to fight other people,” the sailor said. “When I was a child, a woman came to our home seeking safety. Her husband beat her. My parents took her in, and sealed the door against the husband when he came looking. My parents didn’t want to fight, but they wouldn’t stand aside or refuse help to someone who needed protection. That’s why I do this work. If we protect places like Glenlyon, we also protect my home of Benten. And when we protect others, we protect ourselves. Who we are, or who we wish to be.”

  “Your parents were wise,” Lochan said.

  “I didn’t think so when I was younger!” the sailor said with a laugh. “But I learned. Do you have children?”

  “No. That . . . never worked out.”

  “But you try to protect the children of others.”

  “Well . . . yes,” Lochan said. “That’s . . . the only right thing to do.”

  “So you understand why I am willing to fight for others.”

  “Yes.” Lochan roused himself, thinking that he should eat something. “Thank you.”

  “If it is possible, we will save your friend. Surely, knowing that help is coming, they will stay as safe as possible until we arrive.”

  “You’d think so,
” Lochan said. “Unless you knew Mele. I’m afraid she may not be staying all that safe.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Lyn had taken the name Ninja for her hacking work long before she’d come to Glenlyon and even before she’d joined the small fleet that the Old Colony world of Alfar had maintained. Alfar’s fleet had never figured out that Petty Officer Third Class Lyn Meltzer was also Ninja, but they’d discovered enough about her activities to court-martial her. Fortunately, a certain Ensign Rob Geary had recommended a simple discharge instead, not because he knew or liked Ninja but because he wanted to see her treated fairly, and the infractions, while embarrassing to certain officers, weren’t really serious. (The infractions she’d been linked to, that is. She hadn’t seen any need to admit to anything she hadn’t been caught doing.)

  When that same Rob Geary left Alfar for a new colony, Ninja decided to join the effort as well. She’d never told Rob that she’d come here not just because her options on Alfar were really limited and this had looked like an opportunity for a better future, but also because he seemed like someone worth knowing better. Even if it had only become a friendship, she figured a future with a dependable friend on a new world was better than one alone on an old, crowded world.

  So here she was, hiding in a tent in a forest along with other people evacuated from the city, trying to put the finishing touches on the worm Mele needed so Ninja could finally make a difference in this latest fight, while her and Rob’s daughter fended off visitors and brought energy drinks and candy to her work area whenever she noticed Mom had run low on those essentials. Normally the energy drinks made the still-a-few-weeks-from-being-ready-to-come-out child inside her kick with extra vigor, but as if sensing the urgency of Ninja’s work, the kid seemed content at the moment to be squishing his mother’s guts up against her lungs, giving only an occasional reassuring twitch to let her know he was okay.

  She half hoped and half feared that he’d be like his father, idealistic and too willing to sacrifice for others. But at the least Ninja expected that kid to inherit something she and Rob had always shared, the belief that you never let someone else down when that someone was depending on you. As Mele was now depending on her.