Exiles of Earth: Rebellion

by Richard Tongue

  “You think we’ll accept a deal from a Coalition officer?”

  “My orders are to make the offer. They say nothing about acceptance, though you have my word as a Party member that any deal made will be honored. Our ship will take you to Proxima Centauri, where you will be transferred to one of your civilian transports. The Doctor will stay with us. We have work for her. The discoverer of the Challenger should receive the support and assistance such a triumph demand. I certainly state that no harm will come to her.”

  Romanova turned to Thiou, and said, “Don’t believe them. You can’t trust them, not even for a second. Odds are you’ll be interrogated, all your knowledge pumped out of you with whatever drugs they have on hand, and you’ll be brain-burned and given to some Party dignitary as a pet. I’ve seen what happens to people who accept their hospitality.”

  “Let’s not be too hasty,” Thiou replied. “Who am I speaking to?”

  “Just call me Colonel. That’s enough for now. Doctor Thiou, I’m aware of the propaganda people like Lieutenant Romanova spout, but I can assure you that none of it is true. We believe in strong government that serves the needs of the people. Mindwipe is only used as a punishment of last resort, just as spacing is for your people. And I promise that would never happen to you.”

  “Say we did agree. How would this work?”

  “You and your comrades on the surface would surrender your weapons, move to our shuttle, and as soon as the battle in orbit is over, would be transferred to our ship. At the first opportunity, your companions would be transferred to one of our supply ships, and you would have the chance to apply for political asylum. I wouldn’t be surprised if Party membership wasn’t offered.”

  “If they don’t kill you outright,” Romanova replied, “they’ll use you as a propaganda tool, a poster child for treason and treachery.” She raised her rifle, and said, “If you push this much further, Doctor, I will kill you myself. It’ll be an easier death than the one they’d give you.”

  Rising to her feet, she looked at Romanova, winked, and raised her rifle in response, saying, “I didn’t come out here to die, Lieutenant. I’m a historian, not a soldier. I didn’t join your precious Interplanetary Guard for the glory of the Commonwealth, I did it because I wanted to find Challenger.” She paused, then added, “I get to keep my weapon until I’m sure you’re telling the truth.”

  “If you think for one moment that I’m going to go along with this,” Romanova began.

  “You don’t have a choice,” Thiou replied. “Face it, we’ve lost. I don’t want any part of your glorious last stand. There’s nobody coming to help us, no reinforcements on the way.” She walked slowly to the end of the valley, rising to the surface, and asked, “Where are you?”

  “Over here, Doctor,” the man said. She could see an arm waving from behind an outcrop of rock. “Walk this way, nice and slowly. Lieutenant, Doctor Thiou has been sensible. Won’t you follow her lead and do the same? If I must order my men to attack, I will.” A pair of black-suited figures stepped out of cover, guns pointed at Thiou, and the voice continued, “Place your weapon on the ground, Doctor. Carefully. Then we can discuss your future with the Coalition. I promise that it’s going to be a bright one.”

  Taking a deep breath, Thiou lowered her weapon, tossing it away, watching it slowly fall to the ground. Suddenly, this seemed like a bad idea. She stepped forward, her hands raised, walking into cover, tensing herself for a jump. Behind her, Romanova was digging deeper into cover, the rest of the Coalition soldiers moving all around her.

  Just as she was about to reach the two men, her suit sensors picked up an incoming object, a proximity alert ringing through her headphones, and she dived to the ground, sliding behind a wide rock, just as an explosion ripped through her would-be captures, the shrapnel and flame tearing them to pieces. Without a moment’s hesitation, fueled by fear and rage, she sprinted back across the surface, bullets smashing into the ground all around her, desperately racing back for the safety of cover. Another explosion sent a hail of stones raining down, her helmet battered by the impacts, more warning alerts sounding, and she hurled herself into position behind Romanova.

  “For a moment, I thought you were actually buying into all of that crap,” she said, tossing her a pistol. “That not as good as the one you dropped, but I think you might have changed the odds a little.” Cracking a smile, she added, “And if you ever want a change of jobs, I’ve got an opening in Security for someone who thinks as quick as you.”

  “I just figured if the Coalition were listing to us, your people would be as well.”

  “Speaking of which,” Romanova replied. “Thakur, Gurung, do not reply. Do not reply. Stay in cover and take out any targets of opportunity. No prisoners needed. Not today.”

  “No prisoners?” Thiou asked. “But…”

  “They still outnumber us. We have no shuttle. We might have no ship. If this goes wrong, we’ll have to survive with whatever they’ve left on the surface until help arrives.” She raised her rifle, then added, “Here they come. Don’t wait. Take your shots as they come. Show no mercy. They won’t.”

  Thiou turned back to the plain, waiting for the Coalition to make a move. Bullets slammed into the ground on all sides once more, as though the enemy soldiers had read her mind, and she ducked deeper into cover, glancing to the right to spot Romanova returning fire, pounding round after round into the sky, furiously spending ammunition.

  She couldn’t even see a target. A shadow moved in the distance, and she carefully lined up a shot, her suit computer guiding her into position, and squeezed the trigger. The force of the gun pushed her back, and she almost fell out of cover, the recoil of the weapon a surprising jolt on her body. Up ahead, a fountain of rocks flew in a high arc, dropping into the sand one after another.

  Then another movement, out in the distance, and she fired again, three shots this time, properly braced for the recoil. Two explosions leapt into the sky, twin columns of dust and debris, and a loud scream echoed through the communications channel. Another erupted behind her, throwing her out of her precious cover as rocks flew around, sent tumbling in all directions by the sheer force of the explosion.

  That triggered an advance, and she saw troops rushing towards her, more bullets all around her, digging a series of new craters. She was frozen, pinned in place, and looked up to see a figure charging right towards her, rifle in hand, ready to take a shot. Her finger was locked on the trigger, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull it. That was a human being, just like herself, a life that was hers to take.

  And she couldn’t do it.

  Just as the man was about to fire, he collapsed to the ground, air rushing from his shattered helmet in a bloody fountain, a gyroc bullet catching him in the side of his face. She looked at the dying man in horror, eyes widening, unable to work out she should do. She took a tentative step forward, tears streaming down her face, and knelt beside the dying man, while another figure walked towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  “He’s dead, Doctor,” Thakur said. “I had to do it. It was him or you.”

  “I know,” she said. “I know. I could have taken the shot. I could have…”

  “Don’t think any less of yourself that you are unable to take a life, Doctor. Every person I killed is still with me. They come for me in the night, when I turn out the lights, and they scream at me in my dreams, scream for vengeance, perhaps, or just to be remembered. Every time I pull the trigger, I fire a piece of my soul with the bullet.”

  “Spaceman,” Romanova said, walking towards the two of them. “We can worry about the moralizations later. Report.”

  “All Coalition troops eliminated, ma’am. That one I just brought down was the last.” Gesturing into the distance, he said, “I got a good shot from one of the high spots. They were using the dome, but I picked up what look like shaped charges. Probably a trap, in case we made it down to the surface and managed to slip past them. There’s no sign of life support, he
at, anything else, either. I’m afraid it’s useless.”

  “Traps we can disarm,” Romanova mused, “but I doubt we’ll be able to get equipment that’s been left out in vacuum for centuries working again, anyway.”

  “They had a base, ma’am, about a mile away. A grounded shuttle with a small emergency dome next to it. As far as I can tell, it’s unmanned now. They pulled everyone away to tackle our redoubt here.” He smiled, and said, “Kamal and I might have encouraged that idea a little.”

  “Lead on,” she said, turning to Thiou. “Doctor, are you…”

  “Cat.”

  “Fine, Cat, are you intact? No damage?”

  “Not physically.”

  Nodding, Romanova replied, “When we get back to the ship, spend some time with one of the counselling programs. We’ve got them for a reason, and they’re better than nothing. And if you want to talk about any of this, go to me, Thakur or Gurung. We’ve all been there, and we all know what you’re going through. I don’t want to tell you what happened to me after my first firefight.”

  “Valiant’s Chief Engineer made her clean her spacesuit with a toothbrush,” Thakur cracked.

  “That will be enough, Spaceman,” she replied, a faint smile on her face. “The point I’m trying to make is that you’re one of us now. You don’t have to face this alone.”

  “Thanks,” Thiou replied. “That means a lot.” She looked down at the dead man on the ground, and said, “I just…”

  “He died doing his duty, serving his country. We can argue with the merits of his government, but he was an elite soldier who volunteered for this mission. We all did. I might not agree with that poor bastard’s politics, but I understand what drove him out here.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “We’ve got to move. That shuttle…”

  “Lieutenant!” Thakur said. “Two o’clock! The overflying ship just changed course.”

  “Damn, I think I know where it’s going.”

  “A bombing run?” Thiou asked. “Should we take cover?”

  “No need. Kamal, have you got a missile left?”

  “Just one, ma’am,” Gurung replied.

  “Then by all means, Spaceman, put it where it’s needed.”

  The burly soldier dropped to his knee, swinging a long tube from his back and pointing it at the sky, embedding the bottom into the dirt. He moved the end around, following the track of the shuttle, then squeezed the trigger, sending a micro-missile racing into the sky, sliding into position before the enemy craft. Heedless of the danger, Thiou watched as the warhead chased its target, the Coalition pilot doing his best to evade the impact.

  Two more targets appeared, just as the shuttle exploded, a brief ball of light that illuminated the landscape below. The pilot had launched his salvo, seconds before detonation. A moment later, a second explosion erupted, this time on the surface, just on the horizon.

  “Is that where I thought it was?” Romanova asked.

  “I’m afraid so, ma’am,” Gurung replied.

  With a deep sigh, she said, “Better settle back to watch the show. There’s no way off this rock, and that was the last chance we had of getting hold of some emergency supplies. Let’s just hope Endurance pulls off a win. If they don’t, then all of this was a waste of time.”

  “What are our chances?” Thiou asked.

  “Fifty-fifty,” Romanova replied. “We live, or we die. It’s as simple as that.”

  Chapter 15

  “Lieutenant Fitzroy reports he has assumed control of the point-defense system,” Midshipman Diaz reported, sliding in to take the vacant station. “He states that there will be no repetition of the previous impact while he is at the controls.”

  “Tell him that I intend to hold him to that,” Ikande replied. “Ready another salvo. Mark Nine, this time. I want to hit him with a swarm, pin him down. We’ve got to get through his defenses.”

  “We’ve only got one Mark Nine loadout in inventory, Captain.”

  “I’m aware of that, Midshipman. Fire when ready. Lieutenant Mitchell, I need options, and I need them now. We’re not going to win if we go toe-to-toe. They’ve got the edge on us, and I can’t see that changing.” Turning to look at the navigator, he added, “We need to change the rules of the game.”

  Frowning, Mitchell replied, “I can do that, sir, but you aren’t going to like it.”

  “Threat warning!” Diaz said. “Enemy warship has launched another salvo, listed as Bravo-class fast missiles. Estimated time to impact, four minutes, ten seconds. Point-defense will struggle to get them all, sir.”

  “Lieutenant,” Ikande said, “you go right ahead and make me unhappy.”

  “I’ve got a complete topographical layout of the surface, sir, to high resolution. Our detail sensors are a lot better than theirs, our processing a lot faster. We’ll have a far better image of conditions down there.” He turned to the helm, and asked, “Spaceman, can you maneuver at low altitudes?”

  “How low?”

  “One kilometer.”

  The young pilot’s eyes widened, and he replied, “I’ve never…”

  “I don’t need your history, kid, I just need to know if it’s possible.”

  “I can do it, sir,” Petrov said, nodding his head. “We’ve still got fine thruster control.”

  “Sir, this ship can’t maneuver to the sort of degree the Lieutenant is asking,” Diaz protested. “She just doesn’t have the capability, certainly not at the speeds we’re talking about.”

  “We go down to the deck, right down, shake out the missiles on the terrain, and come out the other side at an unpredictable vector using a gravity slingshot. They won’t be able to set a trap for us, because we could end up damn near anywhere!” He smiled, then added, “Unless they try the same trick, but Endurance is faster than they are.”

  “I’m not sure about this, sir,” Diaz said.

  “We’re dead if we don’t try this, Captain,” Mitchell pressed. “And we need to commit to this now, if we’re going to have any chance of evading those missiles. The Bravo-class are lousy in a gravity well anyway. We’ll be able to shake them off.”

  “And if the Coalition has planetary defense systems on the far side, we’re as good as dead.”

  “Helm, take us down. Lieutenant Mitchell, I want you to feed all your sensor information to the guidance control systems and plot me a course through the rocks. Try and be as conservative as you can. We’ll get much better data the closer we get, so keep the navigation systems updated.” He cracked a smile, and said, “Let’s see what this ship can really do.”

  “Lowering orbit, sir,” Petrov said, throwing the engines into a hard deceleration, the ship visibly dipping down towards the planet, the huge blackened orb dominating the viewscreen. Warning lights flickered on, the ship’s computer attempting to persuade the crew that they were undertaking a suicidal act, but Petrov threw off the alerts one after another, silence one more reigning on the bridge. They had to focus, to concentrate, if they were going to pull this off.

  Mitchell looked back to his station, his displays filled with ever-more complex topographical scans, wireframe representations of the surface below. His hands slid smoothly across the controls as he entered in course data, trying to pick a path through the shattered terrain, to find a compromise that would allow them safe passage whilst evading the enemy.

  He quickly ran simulation after simulation, throwing Endurance along one course or another, watching the ship destroyed time and again as he misjudged a trajectory plot, an overhanging rock. Finally, he had something that satisfied him, and fed the course to the helm with a smile, Petrov looking back at him in undisguised horror at the feed from the navigation station.

  “Sir, this bottoms out at eight hundred meters.”

  “That’s right, Spaceman. I’m sure you’re up to it.”

  “Nobody’s ever done this before,” Diaz warned. “There might be a good reason for that.”

  “Probably because they never had the guts,” Ikande rep
lied. “Takes us down, Spaceman.”

  Mitchell reached up to a control, throwing the sensor display onto his station, watching as the missiles closed on Endurance, racing behind them. Diaz launched a retaliatory strike, the salvo of multiple-warhead missiles sweeping back towards the Coalition ship, each splitting into six to overwhelm and envelop them. Their payload was small, barely large enough to penetrate the hull, but they were meant to cause maximum confusion and chaos, not damage. The enemy missiles were similar, destructive force sacrificed for speed, diving towards Endurance far too quickly.

  An altimeter flashed on the display, Mitchell shaking his head as the numbers began to trickle down. He’d never seen that sort of reading on a starship before, and hopefully never would again. The screen was now filled with the planet, rushing rapidly below, speed increasing as Endurance fell into the gravity well. He looked at the enemy ship, watching as it slid into position above them, knowing the decisions flashing through the enemy commander’s mind.

  From his perspective, this could be a bluff, Endurance trying to feint him into making a mistake. A trick designed to force the Coalition ship out of position, perhaps with an ambush in mind. Even if he decided to follow them, there remained the question of the capabilities of his ship, whether it could complete that sort of maneuver. Fortunately, the enemy commander had one important weakness, a weakness shared by every senior figure in the Coalition.

  Their maxim, that nobody was irreplaceable. Other, of course, than the Central Committee. Failure was rewarded with death, or worse, mind-rip, the very soul removed and destroyed, leaving a mindless automaton in its stead. The Coalition used them as slave labor in their cities, an inefficient process that nevertheless served as an object lesson to those suffering such a fate. No Coalition commander would dare risk returning home without completing his mission. Not given what was at stake.