Freedom's Fire Box Set: The Complete Military Space Opera Series (Books 1-6)

by Bobby Adair

  Chapter 38

  Spitz nods at Hawkins. “He knows the SDF better than any of us.”

  “By our count,” says Hawkins, “it looks like one hundred and thirty-six ships were destroyed. Over eighty percent of the SDF’s strength.”

  I’m running through calculations in my head. “Are you saying the SDF now has what—twenty-five, thirty ships left?” So much hope and so much taken away over such a short time.

  “That’s our estimate,” admits Hawkins. “The SDF has three more bases—the one you and your people escaped to, and two more.”

  “Escaped?” I’m a bit insulted. “The Trogs had taken that rock, and we had to fight for it. Escape isn’t the right word.”

  Spitz leans forward. “This is all overwhelming, Dylan, but please remember, Colonel Hawkins is on your side. He’s trying to give you the information you’re going to need.”

  I accept my rebuke and turn to the colonel. “Sorry.”

  “Amateurs get emotional. I’m used to it.”

  I bite back my reply, and ask instead, “Did you know the Potato was in Trog hands?”

  Hawkins shakes his head. “The main SDF base is the only one where we maintain surveillance. Our information on the others is inferred and delayed.”

  “So there may be more than twenty-five or thirty SDF ships left?”

  “Or fewer.”

  I can’t argue with that. “What about the other two bases? Were they attacked by the Trogs?

  “Not that we know of.”

  Not reassuring. “So they could both be in Trog hands.”

  “Possibly.”

  “And if they are?”

  “Then the SDF is down to maybe ten ships, depending on how many of the damaged ones at the Potato have been repaired.”

  “I’m not going to press the argument,” says Spitz, “but with this attack, maybe it’s time to give up on the SDF, Dylan. Maybe it’s time to reconsider going to the colonies with your crew.”

  “Are you ready to give up?” I ask.

  The conference room door swings open and a woman asks to speak with Hawkins.

  With a quick apology, he steps outside and closes the door behind.

  Spitz continues our conversation. “As I said, I’m not trying to sell you. I simply suggest that the situation has drastically changed. Perhaps the decision you made is no longer valid.”

  “What would you do in my shoes?” I ask.

  “I can’t answer that.”

  “You can.”

  Spitz leans forward, stress running through the wrinkles on his face. “I have my own set of worries at the moment.”

  I’m taken aback. This is the first time I’ve seen him under pressure. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Spitz laughs without joy. “We’re withholding nothing.” He points at the screen. “The SDF has been safe on that moon for eight years, growing their rebellion ever so slowly. Now, when they finally have an armada of ships, that if used properly could destroy the Trog fleet, they’re wiped out in a matter of hours.”

  I look at the screen and watch as the overkill destruction continues. “There’s more than that?”

  “Maybe the Trogs found the location of the SDF base yesterday.” Spitz pauses for effect. “Maybe they’ve known for two years and decided to do something only after the SDF became a threat. What worries me is whether the Trogs know about this place and whether their fleet is going to come into orbit over Iapetus after they reload their holds. So you see, Dylan. It’s not your choice that worries me as I watch this feed. I’m worried for all the people here.”

  Hawkins comes back into the conference room with his eyes locked on me.

  “What was that about?” asks Spitz.

  “The comm links between the remaining three bases have come to life. They know about the attack on the main base.”

  “And?” asks Spitz.

  “A Colonel Blair has declared that having the most seniority, she has crowned herself the SDF’s new military commander. She has ordered every ship to her base, the Potato. They’re going on the attack.”

  “Colonel Hawkins,” I say, “would you communicate with the scout ship and tell them to get back here ASAP. Dr. Spitz, I need my ship as soon as you can get it in the air.”

  “Well, the tests—”

  I shake my head vigorously. “It works, or it doesn’t. You don’t know Blair. She’s one hell of an administrator, yet she can’t keep her head when the bullets are flying. Worst of all, she doesn’t know it. I need to get back there. If she doesn’t have somebody with her to keep things moving in the right direction, she’ll do something stupid.”

  Chapter 39

  The scout ship arrives eleven long hours after the first railgun slugs fell on Callisto. Me, Phil, and the Gray are waiting in the hangar as the vessel flies in through the flat grav field that holds the atmosphere inside.

  Over the hours, my impatience to get underway has put a rough edge on my mood, and Phil has had to remind me dozens of times to keep it under control. I’m having difficulty because I keep imagining all the wasted resources and people who are going to die if we don’t execute our counterattack properly. I feel like our last opportunity to win this war is slipping away.

  The scout ship sets down. The blue glow of its grav fields blinks out of existence.

  Colonel Hawkins walks up. “Kane, I have an update on Callisto.”

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “The Trog cruisers are jumping out in twos and threes. It started about an hour ago.”

  “The Callisto base is dead?” I ask. “Completely dead?”

  Hawkins barely nods, as if a limited acknowledgment might undo the truth of it.

  I understand. Such a defeat is hard to take.

  “We suspect they’re convoying back to their bases as they run out of ammunition.”

  “Convoys?” Phil asks. “No point in that for hyperspace travel.”

  “It’s so they won’t be alone when they arrive at their destinations,” I guess. “We may not be winning this war, but our ships have given them something to be afraid of.” I glance at Hawkins for his thoughts on my conjecture.

  “It’s not unusual for ships to jump down the same heading when they have a common destination, yet these ships are coordinating their departure times. They’re leaving with in seconds of one another. They want to arrive together.” Hawkins nods as he confirms his thought process. He looks at me and says, “I’d say you’re right.”

  “Are they jumping out to random points in space to conceal their destinations?” I ask. “That’s what we do. Now that they’re afraid of us—”

  “Afraid?” Hawkins asks. He’s skeptical on that point.

  “Concerned,” I correct. “Respectful? No. Not that. However, they see us as a danger.”

  Hawkins agrees. “They aren’t concealing. Most are hopping down vectors toward Ceres. Others are headed out to the Trojans.”

  “The Trojans?” Phil looks at me, and then at Hawkins for the answer.

  “An asteroid field scattered in Jupiter’s orbit at the L5 Lagrange zone.”

  “They have a base out there, too?” asks Phil.

  We had no knowledge of anything out there.

  Hawkins nods.

  “How many went to Ceres?” I ask.

  “More than half,” answers Hawkins.

  “They haven’t sent that many to Ceres since just after the Arizona Massacre. Has this information been forwarded on to Blair?”

  Hawkins nods. “Through your people on the ship.”

  “Shit!”

  Both Phil and the colonel look at me like I’ve just lost track of reality.

  I quickly apologize. “I was just thinking, they knew a bunch of these Arizona-class ships escaped on the day we all lifted off from earth. And because of the way that battle turned out, they understood the danger. I’ll bet that’s why they spread themselves across the solar system. Th
ey were afraid a coordinated attack by all of our ships could destroy their fleet.”

  “Makes sense,” Hawkins agrees.

  “Now that they’ve destroyed the bulk of our fleet, the concern is gone. They think they’re better off together than separate.”

  The colonel thinks his way through to my conclusion. “They believe that together they can prevail in any attack the SDF or the Free Army is able to mount with what they have left.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking, too.”

  “There’s one other thing,” suggests Hawkins.

  I don’t like the sound of the question. “What?”

  “I’ve been ordered to ask you to allow me onto your ship.”

  I point at the Turd. Spitz’s work crews are loading up the last of the railgun slugs and topping off the hydro tanks. “It’s right there.”

  “He wants me with you when you leave.”

  I look him up and down to emphasize the point I’m going to make. “I’ve been off solid foods for three days already. I drank down the vile intestinal cleansers. There’s nothing in my gastrointestinal system left to clog my suit’s recyclers. Phil and every member of my platoon has been doing the same. All we need to do is don our junky orange suits and board up. We can’t wait three days for you.”

  “I’m ready to go now.”

  That takes Phil and me both by surprise.

  “My CO ordered me off solid food once your platoon switched to the liquid diet.”

  “So you all made this decision three days ago.” My edginess pushes me to be annoyed, though being out of the loop isn’t something I have any legitimate cause to be offended over.

  “They were considering it, and had to keep their options open. Look, if you don’t want me on the ship, then say no. I’d rather go back to the cafeteria and have a pseudo-beef sandwich and some French fries. I’d much rather stay here where I’m not likely to be killed chasing a losing cause.”

  I ease up. “Why do they want you to come along?”

  “Dr. Spitz has convinced the powers-that-be we need an official liaison with the SDF.”

  “Now?” I laugh. “The SDF just got slaughtered.”

  “A day is going to come when you’ll have to explain how your ship was upgraded. There’s no way you can do that without exposing us.”

  “So what,” I ask, “you’re just going to tell Blair about the base?”

  “We’re not giving her anything like that,” says Hawkins. “We need to bring along a few flight crews to ferry ships back and forth between here and the Potato. We’ll upgrade them as much as we can, and send them back to Blair. We can’t install the axial railguns like the one you have on your ship, however, we can fix the drive arrays and automate the fusion reactors so they won’t be death traps.”

  “And they’ll be just as fast as our ship?” asks Phil.

  “That’s right.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Why?” Hawkins repeats, like it’s obvious. He waves a hand at the Rusty Turd. “I just told you. You can’t explain—”

  “No,” I cut him off and turn to Phil. “He’s bullshitting me, right?”

  Phil nods. “There’s more he’s not telling you.”

  The colonel admits his guilt with a nod. “If I meet Blair and I judge all is well, then I’m to coordinate more than just the upgrading of the ships. We’ll share intel with the Free Army. In exchange, we need the Free Army’s fleet to provide security for our freighters so we can send them to the rogue asteroid mines for materials. As Spitz told you, we have a hard time mining enough of what we need here on Iapetus.”

  I look to Phil to see if he’s satisfied with Hawkins’s answer.

  Phil nods.

  “So,” I say, “I get you, a couple of techs to work the railgun, and another six or so, the crews to ferry the assault ships back and forth.”

  Hawkins nods.

  “And they’re all ready to fly within the hour?”

  Hawkins says, “You have room in your platoon compartment for all of us.”

  I look at Phil again. “Thoughts?”

  “I don’t see a downside,” he answers.

  I turn back to Hawkins. “Welcome aboard.”

  Chapter 40

  We spend half an hour accelerating to a safe distance from Saturn and its abundance of orbital objects, each exerting a complicating influence on the local gravitational topography.

  It feels good to be back on the ship’s bridge again, although it’s becoming crowded. Penny, Phil, and Jablonsky are at their stations, as is Tarlow, lounging in front of his monitors and taking up too much space. Brice is standing near me. Hawkins is in one of several seats along the back wall of the bridge, talking over the comm to his people who are mostly in the platoon cabin in the front of the ship. Lenox, Silva, and Peterson are up there with the rest of my soldiers. The Gray is in one of the cabins forward of the bridge, physically alone, but unbreakably linked to Phil.

  “Our distance is good,” Penny tells me.

  I glance to Phil for confirmation.

  “We’ve been a lot closer on both ends of a bubble jump.” He’s not bothered.

  I tell him. “I’d prefer to be careful when we have the time for it.”

  Phil laughs at me but doesn’t bother to explain why he thinks that’s funny. He turns to Penny. “I have the jumps programmed into the system.”

  Over the ship comm, Penny announces we’re going to jump, and she turns to me. “While you’re being all safety-minded, you should probably sit down and strap in.”

  I’m gripping a handhold on the ceiling, and I have my feet grav-locked to the floor. I’m in the best position to see across my bridge crew’s consoles. “I’m fine.”

  “Suit yourself. Can I punch it?”

  I nod.

  Blue flashes bright all around us, starts to dim, and then flashes to full brightness again.

  I glance at Phil. The strobe is not normal.

  “New system,” he tells me. “At 20c, our jumps only last a few seconds before we pop out of bubble to start the next one. The computer handles the interim part so fast, it’s doing in seconds what we spent thirty or forty minutes doing manually before.”

  “And upgraded equipment,” adds Hawkins, “that helps, too, because your performance is consistent.”

  “We’re right where we should be,” Penny confirms. “The ship flies like a dream.” She turns to me with a grin on her face. “We need to rename it. This not a turd anymore.”

  “How long until we reach the Potato?” I ask.

  “Thirteen minutes, thirty-seven seconds,” answers Phil. “If we did it all in one jump, we’d be there before you knew it.”

  “Let’s be safe while we can,” says Penny. It sounds like she’s having fun mocking me. “There’ll be plenty of time for hotshot risks later. I’m sure of that.”

  “Me, too.”

  Chapter 41

  We pop out of bubble in a familiar spot, on the far side of the Potato from the mining colony.

  “Jablonsky,” I say, “get me Blair on the comm. We need to find out what we have and—”

  Phil interrupts, “There’s no one here.”

  That stops me cold. “They’ve abandoned the base?”

  “No,” he answers. “There aren’t any ships here.”

  “Are they docked on the other side?” asks Penny. “In the hangar? Maybe down in the mining pit?”

  Phil shrugs. “Possibly. Nothing’s flying, though.”

  “Nothing in the air?” I can’t believe Blair would be so stupid, especially after what happened on Callisto. “Tarlow, anything on your scanners?”

  He shakes his head.

  I see Jablonsky talking, but I’m not linked on that comm, so I ping him “Jablonsky, what’s the word?”

  “I’m arguing with one of her minions.”

  “Keep at it,” I tell him. “Penny, bring us in close. I may have to talk to Blai
r in person.” I groan.

  “You have to set me and my two crews down,” says Hawkins. “We need to land no matter what.”

  He’s right. Mostly. “Jablonsky,” I call, “tell them we’re coming in. Get us in to see Blair. It’ll be me, Brice, and Hawkins.” To Hawkins, I say, “We’ll bring your crews in later after we pave the way with Blair.” I turn to Penny. “As soon as the three of us get off the ship, I want you back in the air. Put some distance between the ship and the asteroid. I don’t want any of you in danger in case the Trog fleet shows up.”

  Chapter 42

  Forty minutes later, I’m feeling naked with no rifle in my hands. I’m in Blair’s office, standing in front of her desk with my helmet clipped to my belt. Brice is on my left and Hawkins on my right. None of us has a railgun, a pistol, or a hand grenade. They’ve been taken away.

  Two guards, wearing blue coveralls and lurking near the wall behind us, have their weapons ready to fire. That disturbs me almost as much as the fact that they’re not in their orange suits. Indeed, I saw very few in space suits on the way down. No matter what it says about loyalties, these people aren’t ready for an attack that could come at any moment.

  Blair’s eyes are glued on Hawkins, looking him up and down, making it clear with her silence she’s displeased with his crisp orange suit and its unusual appearance. He has no name and rank stenciled on the chest in Korean script. He has unusual insignia on his shoulders.

  “Are we going to stand here all day?” Brice asks, finally breaking the silence.

  Blair glares at him. “Are we going to stand here all day, sir?”

  “Don’t ask me,” he answers, ignoring her intent. “This is your show.”

  “You received our message about the attack on the Free Army headquarters?” I ask, trying to move things in the right direction.

  Blair’s interest falls back on Hawkins as she asks me, “How would you know about that? It wasn’t on your flight plan?”

  “This is Colonel Jake Hawkins. He’s with—”

  “Oh,” Blair acts surprised. “I get an introduction?”

  I roll my eyes. “Colonel Blair, this is Colonel Hawkins. Colonel Hawkins, this is Colonel Blair of the Free Army.”