Battlecruiser Alamo: Final Testament

by Richard Tongue

   “Help them,” the Neander muttered. “Don't let them be enslaved again. Let it end...” The rebel's eyes glazed over as he took his last breath, slumping to the side.

   Segna looked down, a tear in his eye, and said, “Is he?”

   “Dead,” Cooper said, running his palm over the Neander's eyes, snatching the pistol from his hand. “What's the story?”

   “Four of them, with riot shields. I think I winged one, but they're getting smarter. Bunched together and moving forward slowly.” He glanced back at Cooper, and said, “I'll be joining Oktu in a moment. Got a message for him?”

   “Not one that I want sent yet,” Cooper said. “Barbara, can you move quickly?”

   “If it comes to that, I'll have to,” she replied, rising to her feet with a wince. She pulled out her pistol, moving to the door. “Is there another way out?”

   “Only through them,” Segna said.

   “Got anything stronger than the pistols?”

   “Nothing.”

   Peering out around the door, he said, “Maybe I should just show myself. Coming back from the dead ought to give anyone a surprise they won't forget.”

   “And if they've got orders to make sure you stay that way?” Bradley said, as a bullet smashed into the bulkhead beside him.

   “You make a good point.” Cooper looked around the room, then found what he was seeking. He kicked at the bed, which moved slightly to one side, Bradley taking a surprised half-step forward to get out of the way. “Segna, give me a hand with this.”

   The mystified Neander made his way to the far side of the bed, and Cooper slid it in front of the door, ducking down behind it to take advantage of the mediocre cover, then shouldered it forward as fast as he could, a makeshift battering ram that collapsed into the approaching shieldwall.

   “Now!” Cooper said, racing over them, charging down the corridor and taking the first turning he found, Segna and Bradley following, the Neander pausing for a moment, lining up his pistol to take advantage of the prone enemies while he could.

   “Take that shot, and you're no different than they are,” Bradley warned, and he reluctantly lowered his weapon.

   “This way,” he said, turning right, pulling open an access shaft. “Right down, a hundred meters, then into the ship's reservoir.”

   “Reservoir?”

   “Two hundred thousand gallons of water. Can you swim?”

   “If I have to,” Bradley said.

   “This is crazy,” Cooper replied, sliding down the ladder. “I love it.”

   The trio dived down the ladder, the guards up above rapidly rallying and moving after them, shots firing wildly around, ricocheting from the walls. Hand over hand, Cooper led the way down, dropping at last to a hatch at the bottom. Segna kicked a hidden control, and the hatch slid open, sending him falling, desperately reaching for a handhold, before he smashed into the cold, inky-black water beneath.

   Cold rushed through him like a bitter wind as he struggled to swim, tried to remember the skills he'd picked up during his long-ago basic spacesuit drills, lessons from school and before. A pair of splashes to his right announced the arrival of the others, and Segna quickly swam away, waving for the others to follow.

   He fought his way through the icy waters, looking with envy as his wife moved ahead of him, nimbler than he despite her recent injury. There was a faint point of light in the distance, that seemed to be miles away, reflecting strangely on the rippling water. Behind them, a load roar rumbled into life, and the surface began to bubble, a current pulling at them, trying to draw them back, sucking them in.

   “They've turned on the pumps!” Segna yelled. “We've got to move! Now!”

   Shouting echoed through the chamber from behind him, the pursuers looking after them, trying to spot them in the darkness, but none of them elected to follow. Their assessment of the odds of survival in the water was little worse than his, as Cooper found his muscles seize up from the cold, every stroke a battle for life, every breath ripped from his body.

   Finally, the light grew brighter, and Segna's dripping shape emerged from the water, tugging at the hatch, the door at the far end swinging open. The Neander reached down a wet hand to help Bradley up, and as Cooper wondered if his turn would ever come, finally he managed to scramble, shivering, onto the platform, unable even to move.

   A familiar figure stood above them, looking down, wide-eyed, shaking her head. Cooper, with a mighty effort, managed to climb to his feet, dripping wet and freezing. He'd never have been able to draw his pistol, still less fire it.

   “Cooper? Is that you?” Leuka asked. “They said you were dead.”

   “They said a lot of other lies as well,” he replied. “Can I introduce you to Segna, my murderer?”

   The Neander, crumpled on the deck, jerked his head in acknowledgment, and said, “A pleasure.”

   “They want you dead,” she said. “What...”

   “A group of Ghewon's enforcers decided to try and turn the propaganda into reality. We've got to get out of here, get undercover. For right now, we need hot drinks and a change of clothes.”

   “Wait a minute,” Bradley said. “Can you get us to a shuttle? Or even an escape pod?”

   “All of the shuttles are under guard by the Proctors, and the escape pods have been locked down.”

   Shaking his head, Cooper said, “The bastards. Locking down the escape pods in the middle of a combat zone? If this ship gets attacked, thousands of people are going to die pointlessly. We've got to do something about it.” He looked up at Leuka, and said, “Will you help us?”

   She looked down at him, freezing on the floor, and shook her head, replying, “I don't dare. They'll kill me.”

   “If your life is filled with so much fear,” Bradley replied, “then you aren't living now. Just existing. Isn't it worth taking the chance for something more?”

   Confusion reigned on the Neander's face, but after a long moment, she reached down and helped Cooper to his feet, before leading the way down the corridor, half-tripping over a cable in her anxiety to leave the scene.

   “I'll get you to my cabin,” she said. “You can have a change of clothes, a drink, and then I want you gone. And I never want to see any of you again.”

   “Fair enough,” Cooper said, shivering after her as they scampered down the corridor. Leuka paused for a moment, as though unsure which way to go, before taking a right turn to a passage with a long series of doors. Mercifully, she opened the nearest, and they stumbled into the room, leaving a dripping trail behind them.

   Segna ran the heating up to full, briefly turning the room into a furnace, while Leuka gathered drinks from the dispenser, passing them one at a time to the shivering group. She took a seat opposite them, nervously playing a metal spoon over and over in her hands as she looked at them, while Cooper took a grateful sip of the boiling liquid.

   “Thank you,” he said.

   “What next?” Bradley asked.

   “Hide,” Segna replied. “Down into the bowels of the ship, and try and get to an airlock or a communications terminal. Maybe we can hack into the primary system.” He frowned, then said, “There are some old message lasers in storage. Alamo's only a couple of miles away, so we should be able to line up manually.”

   The door burst open, and three Neander in brown uniforms walked in, led by a grinning Morigna. Leuka seemed to shrink into a corner, unwilling to look at those she had betrayed in the face.

   “I didn't have a choice,” she said.

   “Yes you did,” Cooper replied. “I guess you just didn't realize it.”

   “Enough of this,” Morigna said. “All of you are under arrest for double homicide. Charges to be formally filed immediately.”

   “Double homicide?” Segna asked. “I thought I'd killed them?”

   “An error we will be happy to admit. There are several witnesses to the murders of O
ktu and, oh, Leuka.”

   “What?” she asked, but before she could move, one of the guards fired a perfectly precise shot between her eyes, her head erupting in blood as she slumped back on her chair. Cooper shook his head while Segna threw up on the floor.

   “You can't honestly think you'll get away with this, do you?” he asked.

   “I rather think we will. Now unless you want to be shot while attempting to escape, you need to move.”

  Chapter 11

   “I have Captain Ghewon for you, ma'am,” Weitzman said. “Priority One.”

   “I'll take it in my office, Spaceman,” Orlova said, stepping away from the holotable, leaving Powell and Nelyubov behind. “Frank, let me know as soon as we've finished the missile deployment. I want those shuttles back on board within an hour.”

   “Aye, ma'am,” he replied, as she stepped into the office. They'd stolen a trick from the Xandari, hiding a batch of missiles in the debris fields, concealing them from easy detection. They wouldn't stand up to close observation, but hopefully they wouldn't need to. All being well, they'd have them in the air in a matter of seconds after the enemy fleet arrived.

   What did bother her was that there was no way to stop the Neander seeing what they were doing. Any traitor on board would be able to relay the position of the missiles directly to the enemy within a matter of seconds. They'd have to move fast, and trust to luck. Not something she ever wanted to depend on during a battle.

   The communication light winked urgently, but she carefully sat down behind her desk, pulling her uniform jacket into position, and taking a quick sip of water before acknowledging the message. There didn't seem any harm in letting Ghewon wait for a chance.

   “Have you made any progress in the recovery of our people?” she asked, as the scowling face of the Neander commander appeared on her screen.

   “In a manner of speaking, Captain. We have found them, both of them...”

   “Then I presume that you are calling to inform me that they will be returning to Alamo momentarily,” she interrupted.

   “And they are under arrest on two counts of murder.”

   “Excuse me?”

   “I have the testimony of more than a dozen people that they gunned down a pair of technicians in cold blood. I don't know what sort of investigation they came across to run, but I will not sit passively by while my people are murdered by your tame assassins. The trial is set for three days from now, though I do not think that there is any doubt as to the verdict.”

   “Of course not,” she replied. “I'm sure you've already made up your mind.”

   “The evidence is beyond reproach.”

   Nodding, Orlova leaned forward in her chair, and said, “I will ask once, and only once, for you to return your prisoners to my custody. If there is any evidence of wrongdoing, then they will be tried on this ship under your legal code, but with an impartial jury.”

   “Only Starborn receive jury trials.”

   “Perfect. Both Cooper and Bradley were born in space. Unless you are talking about restricting it to a small group of Neander. I have no confidence in your travesty of a justice system, and have no confidence that they will receive any sort of a fair trial. Tell me something. Do you actually believe this evidence?”

   “I have seen the testimony myself.”

   “And you trust those giving it to you? It hasn't occurred to you, even for a second, that the traitors we've been looking for would love to see us fighting it out?”

   He paused, then said, “Justice must be done. The people are clamoring for it.”

   The door opened, and Cantrell stepped in, saying, “I'm sorry to disturb you, ma'am, but we've had evacuation requests from our engineering teams over on Ausori. Apparently they are under attack by mobs of Neander, and Kelot is unconvinced that he can hold them back for long.”

   Nodding, she said, “They won't want to fire on their own people, and I can't blame them for that. Get them picked up and brought over to Alamo on the double. You can abandon the missile deployment for the moment.”

   “That has to have the highest priority,” Ghewon said.

   “I'm sorry,” Orlova replied as Cantrell left the room. “Are you under the impression that I am going to respond to anything you say at this point? Do you honestly consider that I give a damn about you, or what you want?”

   He paused, shook his head, and said, “You won't do it. You won't pull out and leave us behind to die at the hands of the Xandari. I don't believe that for a second. Don't bother threatening me, Captain, not with something you have no intention of doing.”

   “What reason are you giving me to stay?”

   “Thousands of people who will die if you leave.”

   Orlova looked away from the pickup, closed her eyes, and said, “Ghewon, I'm trying to help you. Send me the evidence, all of it, and let my experts take a look at it.”

   The Neander looked off-camera, then shook his head, replying, “You would find ways to manipulate it for your advantage.”

   “Damn it all,” she yelled, “put yourself in my position. If it were two of your officers over here, you'd want all the facts at your disposal. Wouldn't you? Besides, if we're so powerless as you suggest, then what harm can we possibly cause you.”

   He frowned, and reluctantly nodded, saying, “I suppose that is a reasonable argument. I will have the information transmitted across immediately, and you will be given transcripts of the trial after it has taken place. I warn you, though, that the penalty for murder is death.”

   “I didn't doubt that for a second. Orlova out.” She flicked off the transmission, then glanced down to see the data stream pouring in, before taking another long drink of water, wishing it was something stronger. She rose to her feet, pacing back and forth for a moment.

   Ghewon was quite right. That was the worst part of it. If she pulled out on the civilians, she'd never forgive herself. Only a handful of them were playing these stupid political games, throwing their lives on the line, and it wasn't fair to make them suffer for the actions of a tiny minority. Nevertheless, she wasn't about to simply leave Cooper and Bradley to rot, either.

   Finally, she tapped a control, and said, “Nelyubov and Powell, report to my office on the double.” She took her seat, looking down at the index of the information they'd received. All verbal testimony, accounts from eyewitnesses. No forensic evidence, no camera feeds, nothing that a Triplanetary court would consider sufficient. Back home, this case would have been thrown out without a second thought, assuming a prosecutor had been made enough to bring it to trial in the first place. Here, the judge would decide exactly as Ghewon had instructed.

   The door opened, and the two officers stepped into the room, glancing at each other as they saw the expression on Orlova's face. They took seats opposite her, Powell glancing down at the readout on the desk, his eyes widening.

   “Am I reading that right?” he asked.

   “I'm afraid so,” she said. “Cooper and Bradley are facing charges of murder, and are to be tried tomorrow, and sentenced to death. I don't think we can expect a fair hearing.”

   “They've got to be out of their minds,” Nelyubov said.

   “Ghewon's riding the wave,” she replied. “Someone is drumming up anti-Triplanetary sentiment over there, and doing an excellent job of it. If he doesn't take any action against our people, he'd likely lose his command at the very least, his life at the worst. That doesn't excuse his actions, but it does explain them.”

   “I can't believe it,” Nelyubov said. “We've got to do something about it, Captain. We can't simply leave them to die.” Shaking his head, he added, “We're going to have to intervene. Sergeant Gurung is on stand-by for immediate assault, and I'm certain that we can retrieve both of them and return to Alamo without significant risk.”

   “Without knowing where he is?” Powell asked.

   “When is the trial?”
<
br />    “Three days,” Orlova replied.

   “Then we've got time. Cantrell can contact Corporal Walpis, and get him to locate the detention area and lead our people in. Even if we just use our Neander troopers, that's a large enough strike force to complete the mission.”

   “Which, sir, is exactly what they are expecting us to do,” Powell replied. “Whether Ghewon has reasoned that far or not, those behind him certainly anticipate a military strike.” He folded his fingers together, then continued, “If I were them, I wouldn't even make an attempt to stop it. I would simply ensure that the maximum destruction was caused as a result. Some shaped charges placed along the route, perhaps, or some impostors wearing Triplanetary uniforms. They had enough opportunity to copy them.”

   “Damn it, we gave them the designs,” Nelyubov said with a sigh. “They wanted patterns for uniforms for their fabricator, to issue to their troops. I gave them an old design, but it'll be enough to fool the Neander.”

   “Who wanted them?” Orlova asked.

   “Kelot. He thought it would do his troops good if they had a proper uniform to wear, and I agreed. I used some of those abandoned designs for the Triton Militia to give them some better touches.” Shaking his head, he said, “I didn't even think twice about it.”

   “Never mind,” she replied. “Obsolete uniform designs are hardly military secrets, and I'm sure they could have got hold of them some other way. As far as it goes, Professor, I agree with you. They'll find some way to use the situation to their advantage, but I'm not going to allow our people to die in a kangaroo court. Frank, have Lieutenant Cantrell contact Corporal Walpis, and ask him to lay the ground work for an attack.”

   “I'll sit down with Sergeant Gurung and come up with an extraction plan,” he replied with a nod. “At least it'll feel good to be taking some action at last. We can worry about putting the pieces back together later.” Looking at Powell, he added, “After all, it works both ways. They can't do without us, not until we get clear of the system. If the Xandari attack, they're not going to care about the command structure of the Neander vessel. And even should the traitors somehow manage to take control...”