Battlecruiser Alamo: Final Testament

by Richard Tongue

   “What have we got?” she asked.

   A grimace on his face, he replied, “Our immediate problem is two incoming Xandari vessels, I'm guessing scoutships. They're trying for a divergent course, moving out on either side.”

   “Getting into position to gather intelligence, set us up for the main fleet.”

   “Probably. We're on an intercept course.”

   “Laser charging,” Cantrell reported, “I've got a missile salvo ready to go. Combat range in ninety seconds, but we're only going to have a certain window of twenty seconds if we try for both of them.”

   “Which means that we'll have to make each shot tell.”

   “We could try for just one,” Foster said. “That would guarantee a kill.”

   Shaking her head, Orlova replied, “They've sent two for redundancy. One of them gets wiped out, and they've still got another to gather the intelligence they need.” Looking at the monitor, she said, “They're moving as fast as a fighter. We'd never catch one if it had a chance to build up some speed.”

   “Spinelli's getting data for the warbook, and I've got Quinn down below riding herd on a technical analysis team.”

   “I've tried to contact the enemy vessels on all frequencies,” Weitzman added. “No reply, not even in their own language. They're refusing to talk.”

   “Sounds like I could go back to bed,” Orlova said with a smile. “You've got everything covered. What was the other problem?”

   Taking a deep breath, Nelyubov said, “Everything seems to be going to hell on the Neander ship. We got a flash that Ghewon had been assassinated by Cooper, and Aussketi has assumed command. Then we had a signal from Cooper, just before those ships appeared.”

   “I've got him on standby, ma'am,” Weitzman said. “He reports that he is safe, at least for the moment. I can put you through as soon as you want.”

   Looking at the monitor, she asked, “Can he hold on for ten minutes?”

   After a brief exchange, the technician replied, “Yes, ma'am. He also wished us the best of luck with the battle.”

   “Tell him I'll contact him as soon as the fighting is over, and warn him to keep undercover.” Turning to Nelyubov, she added, “This isn't a coincidence. All of this has been timed to perfection, rigged so that they have maximum confusion for the attack.”

   “And no doubt someone is already putting exactly that to the Neander, though with the twist that we are working with the Xandari, and have organized the assassination,” he replied.

   “Signal from Ausori, ma'am,” Weitzman said. “I have, er, Captain Aussketi for you, top priority.”

   “Intercept in thirty seconds,” Cantrell said.

   “Put her on,” Orlova ordered, turning to the monitor, where Aussketi's face appeared. “If you're going to threaten me, make it quick. We're about to engage the enemy.”

   “No,” the Neander replied. “We do need to speak, but that can wait. I've managed to get a missile bank on-line, and we have a potential targeting solution on the enemy ships. I need you to guide our warheads to the target, though. Our fire control systems aren't working yet.”

   “You heard her, Cantrell,” Orlova said, beaming a smile. “Grab those missiles as they launch and run them up to the enemy. That'll give us the edge we were looking for.”

   “Happy to help, Captain,” Aussketi said. “Good hunting. Ausori out.”

   “That's a nice change,” Foster said, turning from the helm. “Looks like they're finally getting it together over there.”

   “I hope so,” Orlova replied. “Cantrell, fire at will. I want both of those bastards taken down.”

   “Foster, I'll need...”

   “Laser shot in five seconds,” she replied. “I'm on it, ma'am. Coming around. Random walk once the shot is away.”

   Orlova looked at Nelyubov, who smiled in satisfaction. Alamo dived down towards the nearest target, lining up for the briefest second needed, a pulse of light leaping between the ships as the radiators glowed red-hot, frantically dispersing the energy. The scanner told the story as the enemy vessel tumbled out of control, its main engine firing in brief pulses that sent it on a wild corkscrew course, easy prey for a later salvo.

   The ship rocked back for a second as her missiles raced away, ranging towards the remaining enemy vessel as it desperately began its bid to escape. Over to the right, Ausori unleashed a trio of missiles, and Cantrell reached across for a second control panel as she started to integrate them into the attack pattern, forming a wide arc of death slamming towards the enemy.

   “No sign of counter-fire,” Nelyubov said.

   “I don't see any missile tubes,” Spinelli replied. “Looks like they're unarmed.”

   Grimacing, Nelyubov said, “That puts a different complexion on this, doesn't it.”

   “Just because they don't have any weapons doesn't mean they can't do us harm, Frank,” Orlova noted.

   “I know,” he sighed. “That doesn't mean I have to like it.”

   The missiles were moving as one, locked in three attack waves, one after another diving towards their target. Cantrell had moved quickly, as had her counterpart on Ausori, and the enemy vessel didn't stand a chance. The first wave slammed into her side, ripping out her guts, the blast of escaping atmosphere rushing out into space, and the second wave finished the job, a brief flash of light as the vessel exploded.

   “Did we do that?” Foster asked.

   “Impossible to tell,” Cantrell replied. “There's a good chance they had the ship rigged to self-destruct, rather than risk being captured.”

   “Confirmed,” Spinelli said, nodding. “The other one just exploded as well, ten-second delay.” He shook his head, and said, “That wasn't even a fair fight. They never even had a chance. Why did they do it?”

   “That's not a bad question, Spaceman,” Orlova said.

   “Gathering intelligence…,” Nelyubov began, before pausing, and continuing, “They could have come in at the far hendecaspace point. With that sort of an acceleration profile, we'd never have intercepted them in time, and they could have gathered all the information they needed. This wasn't a scouting mission.”

   “No,” Orlova said. “They're pinning us in position, throwing us off. Spinelli, run a check for organic residue.”

   “I'll be lucky to get a complete view at this range, Captain. We can send a shuttle for a closer analysis.”

   “I don't need the whole picture, Spaceman. Just find me a body, if you can.”

   Shaking his head, the technician went to work, and Nelyubov said, “You aren't expecting to find one, are you?”

   “Just because they are willing to throw their lives away doesn't mean they're a race of psychotic kamikazes. No point wasting trained personnel on a suicide mission, not when robots will do.”

   “They've brainwashed crews before,” Cantrell said.

   “True, but even then they maintained overseers on board, provided direction. None of their victims seemed capable of much in the way of independent thought. Anything, Spaceman?”

   “Not a trace, Captain. There was an atmosphere on board, but the oxygen content is way down. Maybe a third of what it should have been.” Looking up from his station, he continued, “Someone left air to make it look good when we destroyed them.”

   Shaking his head, Nelyubov said, “Unmanned hendecaspace craft. That's a breakthrough that scares the hell out of me.”

   Cantrell replied, “Not necessarily. We've been working on the same technology for years, and it doesn't take any sort of conceptual breakthrough to pull it off. Especially not if you aren't asking the computer to do anything much when it arrives.” Looking at the sensor display, she added, “Though I'd love to get a look at one of those ships, take it home for the technical crews to take a look at it.”

   “Assuming Jack Quinn left them anything to examine,” Orlova said. “Any further sign of dimensional a
ctivity, Spaceman?”

   “Nothing, ma'am. Everything's quiet out there.”

   Turning to Nelyubov, she ordered, “Stand down to alert status, and stay there for twenty minutes in case this is the prelude to something else.”

   “Aye, ma'am.”

   “You can get me Ensign Cooper now, Weitzman,” she said, reaching for a headset. “Make sure to keep the transmission as tight as possible. I don't want anyone else overhearing us, and if possible, we don't want to give away his position.”

   After a moment, the technician said, “I've got him, ma'am.”

   “Cooper, this is Alamo Actual. Do you read?”

   “I read you, Captain, loud and clear. I'm safe at this end, at least for the moment. What's going on out there.”

   “Nothing too serious. A brief firefight, no damage. Right now I'm more concerned about the situation on Ausori. Did you kill Ghewon?”

   “No, ma'am, I didn't. Aussketi did, after setting it up to frame me for the crime.” Shaking his head, he added, “She did a damn good job of it, as well. If Corporal Walpis hadn't found me in time, I don't think we'd be having this conversation. I have an independent witness to the crime with me.”

   “And your wife?”

   Pain crept into his voice as he replied, “She's still in detention. I couldn't get to her in time. Captain, we've got to take action at once. I can lead a strike team right to the bridge, and we can take down Aussketi and place someone else, anyone else in command. We now have ample evidence that she is the traitor.”

   Closing his eyes, Nelyubov said, “No, we can't, can we. And she just gave us a demonstration of why we can't send any shuttles over there.”

   “Sir, I think we're past the time for the diplomatic niceties,” Cooper said. “They're conducting mass arrests of anyone they suspect, and it's only a matter of time before there is a full-scale revolt.”

   “Somehow, Ausori has managed to get a missile battery operational, Ensign,” Orlova replied. “I can't send a shuttle force across without providing it with full tactical support, and that would mean launching an attack on the Neander vessel. Do you really want me to order that?”

   He paused, then said, “No, ma'am, I don't. I thought this was going a little too well.”

   “Are you free to move?”

   “Within limits, ma'am. There are a lot of parts of the ship that no one is especially interested in. If we're careful, and keep down low, I think we can remain undetected for as long as you want. The moment we show our faces, though, we're going to have Morigna and her Proctors on our tail.”

   She paused, and said, “If you can make it to an airlock, Cooper, I'll have a shuttle standing by to get you, and if they try and launch an attack on one of our ships, I won't have any compunction in knocking them down.”

   “Thank you for the offer, ma'am, but even if I could get off this ship, I can't leave my wife behind.”

   “I understand. There's an alternative, Cooper, but I'm forced to admit it's pretty risky.”

   “That's normal procedure, isn't it, ma'am.”

   Looking at Nelyubov, she said, “I have reason to suspect that Kelot is on our side. At the very least, I think he'll give you a fair hearing. If you can find him, you might be able to convince him to overthrow the current administration.” Shaking her head, she added, “It's a long shot, but it's the best we've got at the moment.”

   Rubbing his forehead, Nelyubov said, “Captain, I must point out that you are ordering Ensign Cooper to violate several articles of Triplanetary Fleet Regulations.” Shaking his head, he replied, “Hell, I agree with you, but...”

   “Sorry, Captain,” Cooper said. It might have been her imagination, but she thought she could detect a trickle of laughter in his voice. “You faded away there for a moment. Here's my plan. I'm going to try and make contact with Kelot, and see if I can convince him to take down Aussketi and the rest of the traitors. I'm aware that this is in violation of several regulations, but I can't think of another option.”

   “I'll be damned,” Cantrell said, shaking her head.

   “Good luck, Cooper,” she replied. “We'll be watching and waiting, standing by to provide any assistance you need at a moment's notice. Sergeant Gurung and the rest of the platoon have been on constant alert since your arrest.”

   “Thank the lads for me,” he said. “Keep listening out. I'll try and contact Alamo at six-hour intervals. I won't make the attempt to find Kelot for a while, see if the search dies down a little. We're safe at the moment.”

   “Understood, Ensign. Alamo out.”

   “You're off the hook, at least,” Nelyubov said.

   Weitzman looked at his panel, back at Orlova, then tapped a series of controls, saying, “I'm afraid I have to report a communications system malfunction, ma'am. It looks as though we've lost the last five minutes of audio transmission.” Shaking his head, he added, “Back-up systems as well.”

   “That was damn careless of you, Spaceman,” Orlova replied with a smile. “Well, there's no need to sit around doing nothing. Cantrell, I want you to start work on those missiles. Find out where they were launched from, and whether we can grab control of them again if the need arises.”

   “Aye, ma'am.”

   “Frank, go down to Sergeant Gurung. I have a feeling he's already prepared a plan for a boarding action, but I want you to go over it with him. If someone over there calls for our assistance, I want to be able to provide it in a matter of seconds.” She paused, then added, “You can also work out a rescue plan for Cooper and Bradley, just in case all of this goes wrong.”

   “Will do, Captain.”

   Looking around the bridge, she said, “Let's go to work, people. We've got a lot to do in the next few days.” While the crew moved to follow her orders, she turned back to the holotable, tapping a control to bring up course corrections. This time they'd been lucky, the enemy easy to deal with. Deliberately so, more than likely. The next dimensional transition was likely to bring a war fleet into the system, with their sights set right at Alamo.

   And then there was Daedalus. By now, if all had gone to plan, they should be on their way back with the fuel they needed to escape the system. She glanced up at the bridge clock, working out the times in her head. The window for their return had opened an hour ago. Without the fuel they were bringing, none of this planning and scheming would be worth a damn thing.

  Chapter 16

   Salazar was being watched, and he knew it. He was counting on it. As he walked through the docking port, this time with a pistol ostentatiously at his belt, a dozen eyes glared at him, tracking his every move. The customs official took a half-step back at his approach, as though wondering how he had dared to return following his previous visit to the station, but Minister Quaice had issued a full apology for what had happened, and almost seemed eager to allow him to return. Even granting him a temporary firearms license.

   Greed, as ever, had overwhelmed common sense. Testament Station needed the wealth that the Triplanetary Confederation could offer, and the Cabinet wasn't about to let anyone jeopardize that. Even the two companies would be eager for a second attempt at speaking to them. Their bids had come in, an hour after they had docked with Daedalus, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

   This time, Salazar had an advantage. He knew where he was going. Rhodes and his group had scouted out several of the nearby bars, a duty they had been only too happy to fulfill, with a focus on those that were closest to the terminal with the highest transient population. He took a sharp right turn as he entered the main heart of the station, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light.

   The smell of fresh, clean air blasted through his nostrils, and he shook his head. Under other circumstances, this would be an amazing place for shore leave, but the knowledge that he was surrounded by people who planned to do him harm took the edge off it. It wasn't the obvious watchers that bothered hi
m, but the ones he couldn't see, lurking in the shadows.

   He stepped into the bar, a murmur of conversation rising as he approached. Doubtless the gunfight had been the subject of gossip and rumor for the last three days, and as he bought a drink from the dispenser, taking a table in the corner by himself, he knew that the other patrons were watching, wondering what would happen next.

   Two days since the firefight, two long days waiting for the right moment to make their move. The next step would require them to move quickly, to be out of the system in a hurry, and they'd had to make sure that Daedalus had completed dimensional reintegration, could make the jump to hendecaspace at a moment's notice. Then the argument about who should go, and Salazar smiled at the memory of the prolonged insistence from Harper that she was the best choice. Under other circumstances, he would have agreed, but not today. Not with her as the commanding officer of a ship, and he simply glorified supercargo.

   A pair of Neander entered the bar, taking positions on either side of the room, obviously checking for traps, for signs that anyone else had beaten them inside. Almost imperceptibly, Salazar patted the butt of his gun, and one of them nodded in silent acknowledgment. A moment later, Skeuros walked in, sitting down opposite him as though by invitation.

   “I thought you would be here first,” Salazar said.

   Nodding, the Neander said, “Kilquan suffers from an overdose of caution, one that in the past has meant that he missed opportunities.” One of his guards brought him a drink, and he added, “If you are waiting for an apology, you'll be here for a while. I moved faster than the others, but they were acting no differently. That rat Xydic would have had you held if the corporations hadn't.”

   With a smile, Salazar replied, “That's a hell of a way to open up a negotiation.”