“There’s only one place we can go,” Romaine, still lurking at the back, said. “We don’t have the fuel to reach anywhere else civilized. Not even Sinbad.”
“Ten seconds,” Cantrell said. “Six. Five. Ah.”
“Got them?”
“Four and a half seconds sooner than I thought, but within the margin of error. They must be really sharp on their drive systems and course projections. Unless they slaved themselves to our trajectory.”
Marshall turned, and asked, “Are they following us?”
“Looks like.”
“I’m sending you calculations for the slew course now. That should take us even further away next time,” Newton said.
“It won’t matter,” Marshall replied. “They’re going to jump the second they can, no later. They won’t wait on our course for the jump to Alamo.” He looked down at his console, nodded, and tapped a sequence of controls. “Course change implemented. Estimated time to normal space is four days, thirteen hours.”
“Dauntless will emerge a hundred and five seconds later.”
“Which will give us maybe four minutes’ headstart when we get to Hydra Station,” Newton said. “We have to work out how to make the best use of it.”
“Why?” Romaine said. “This isn’t our fight. I still say that we should make sure we get out of the way, keep well clear of the battle.” He turned to Marshall, and said, “If your ship is as good as you claim, then I can’t see what a freighter could do to help us.”
“Much as I hate to agree with him,” Fuller said, turning from the communications station, “he’s got a point. This isn’t a warship, not even a fleet auxiliary. A couple of missile hits in the right place and we’d be running for the escape pods.”
Marshall rose, looking at the room, and said, “No-one is suggesting that we should try to go toe-to-toe with a battlecruiser. That doesn’t mean hiding at the wrong side of the system.”
“You’re going to get us killed!” Romaine shouted. “I didn’t come along on this trip to die.”
“No, you came along on this trip because it was better than being left floating in space,” Newton said. “Captain Marshall is quite right. I hate to break it to all of you, but we’ve committed several serious crimes against the Cabal, and I don’t think that throwing ourselves on their mercy is a workable plan.”
“You got us into this!” Romaine said.
“We knew what we were doing,” Fuller said. “I don’t regret that part. I just don’t see what it is we can do, other than, well, stay out of the way.”
“We need to be getting in the way of the Dauntless,” Marshall said. “By now, Alamo should have finished work on the orbital defense network. That’s going to make Hydra Station a tough nut to crack.”
Shaking his reddened face, Romaine said, “That’s just proving my point. You’ve got all of this hardware at your disposal…”
“And it still might not be enough,” Cantrell interrupted. “I’ve been studying that ship for days, and it’s a monster. Bigger than anything we’ve met before on Alamo, about half-way between a battlecruiser and a dreadnought. I’d say it was designed as a fleet command ship.”
Cooper standing at the rear, said, “Those functions won’t help them, though. They might be bigger, but…”
“Nice thought, but I’ve counted eight missile tubes. No laser, but there are plenty of particle beams. I don’t like our chances of getting a missile salvo into position. Added to which she’ll have lots of armor and redundancy in her systems.”
“Weak spots?”
“She must have them, but the resolution in these sensors isn’t enough to help that much. I know this much – she’s got a good acceleration profile. My projection of the battle has Dauntless entering orbit around Driftwind in about thirty-one minutes, assuming Alamo doesn’t come out to meet it.”
“They’d have to be crazy,” Cooper said. “With the orbital defense network, they’ve got a hell of an edge. Between the two of them, it ought to be a fairly even fight.”
“Is there anything we can do to delay them, hold them off?” Newton asked.
Shaking his head, Marshall said, “It’s worth a look, but it wouldn’t help that much, except perhaps giving more warning time. If Alamo gets away, that still leaves Hydra Station, and I wouldn’t like to see it face Dauntless alone. It needs fleet support.”
“This is all about that damn ship of yours, isn’t it,” Romaine said. “What about us?”
“Captain, I have to think about the Brunel before anything else,” Newton said, but as Romaine’s face grew smug, she continued, “Which is why we need to do everything we possibly can to assist Alamo. If for no other reason than we frankly need the Confederation battlecruiser to win this battle.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“My pleasure. Now we just have to work out how we can do it.”
“You are both going to get yourselves killed,” Romaine said. “I’m not going to be a part of this.” He pushed off through the doors and out into the corridor, loitering for a moment in evident hope that others would follow him, then continuing into self-imposed exile.
“Well, that should make things a little easier,” Cantrell said. “Quieter, too.”
“First question,” Marshall said, “What about fitting armament to the Brunel.”
“Out of the question,” Newton replied. “If for no other reason than we don’t have any equipment along those lines, no guidance software, nothing. That’s not going to work.”
Fuller frowned, then said, “We’ve got something we could use.”
“What?”
“The escape pods. If we could modify the guidance controls, they’d be excellent as kinetic weapons. We could scatter them as mines, spread them around the egress point.”
“No-one’s ever mined an egress point. The dimensional instability moves them around too much…,” Newton said.
Pressing on, Fuller said, “This time, though, they only have to hold station for a few minutes. Surely we can manage it.”
“We can,” Marshall said, “but I would oppose such a plan.”
“Oh?” Newton asked. “It’s a good idea.”
“First of all, it would leave this crew with no means of escape. More importantly, I don’t think it’s a good idea to get into the habit of using escape pods as weapons. All that would mean is that in future battles, both sides would have to shoot them down, or give them a wide berth.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I suppose we could modify some probes, something like that?” Cooper suggested.
Shaking her head, Newton replied, “Unless you brought the schematics with you, we can’t fabricate them. Such designs are kept very secret – the Cabal doesn’t like civilians to be armed, or even to have anything that could potentially be turned into a weapon. I suppose at a pinch we could try and ram the Dauntless, but the point-defense guns would rip us to pieces before we even got close.”
“Let’s take a look at the Dauntless again,” Marshall said. “Can you put it on the screen?”
“Sure,” Cantrell said, and she tapped a control. The long, menacing lines of the super-battlecruiser appeared, and he stood up, looking at it, frowning.
“Got any pictures of the ones we’ve seen earlier?”
“Probably,” she said, and after a few moments, a second, smaller ship appeared. Marshall studied them for a moment, then turned back to the bridge.
“Is it just me, or is Dauntless a lot newer than the other craft?”
“Launched twenty-one months ago, in a glaze of publicity,” Fuller said. “They boasted about it enough that I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it back at Sol.”
“First of her class?”
“As far as I know,” he said.
“Interesting.” After another moment’s thought, he said, “There’s onl
y one thing I can think of, and that is electronic warfare.”
Shaking her head, Newton replied, “We’re even worse at that.”
“No,” he said, turning to Cantrell, “We have an expert on board.”
“Captain,” she said, “I can’t…”
Smiling, Marshall walked over to her, and said, “Sub-Lieutenant, you have, in your pockets, all manner of interesting, cutting-edge programs, right. I’d bet that some of it was designed specifically to take a crack at Cabal systems.”
“Not that I don’t trust this crew, but…”
“And you have been trained in this field, I assume.”
“Captain, I have direct orders on this.”
He nodded, and said, “As field commander, I’m countermanding them. We’ve got to get back, and we have to get Alamo back, and it just became even more important that we complete our mission.”
“Sir, the Dumont is on its way back with the Cabal database. I want to get us back, but...you’re putting me in a hell of a position, here. I was supposed to be deep cover, remember.”
“Take my word for it, Sub-Lieutenant – we have got to get home. The Dumont can’t do the job, because we have new information to provide. I’ll give you a written order on this, but I want you to upgrade the Brunel’s computer systems in any way you can.”
“Even if I do this, we’re going to struggle against the Dauntless. They’ll have a thousand times the processing power at their disposal, and teams of counter-hackers fighting me off.”
“David beat Goliath, Sub-Lieutenant.”
“Then put him in the electronic-warfare seat,” she replied with a smile. “I’ll see what I can do. Can I borrow Cooper?”
“By all means.”
Newton added, “Take anyone you need. Any edge we can get will be useful, and I’d rather get involved in a battle of computer programs than watch missiles get through about.”
“That could still happen,” Fuller said, shaking his head. “I still think that this is a bad idea.”
Standing up, Marshall said, “Mind if I leave the bridge?”
“Not at all,” Newton said. “There isn’t much for the helm to do for a while. I can handle it.”
Nodding, he pushed into the corridor, thoughts and ideas swirling around in his head. As he drifted into the elevator, he called up the data on the Dauntless on his datapad, going over it again, confirming all of his suspicions. The doors opened on the quarters deck, and he moved three doors down, tapping the chime.
“Come in,” the Commandant’s voice said. “It is always a pleasure to have visitors.”
His room was exactly as Marshall had expected – everything tidied, in good order, all stowed away properly for variable gravity. A trio of neatly pressed uniforms hanging on a rack, drifting back and forth despite being locked down. He tossed the datapad to the Commandant, who snatched it out of the air.
“I’ve been admiring your old ship,” he said. “Though there are certain aspects of her design that rather surprise me.”
“Oh?” the Commandant said.
“Clearly, it was designed as a fleet command ship; I presume that it was out of position to engage Alamo before.”
“I can neither confirm nor deny your supposition.”
“Something else. You can’t have been in command of it for long.”
“I am not required to provide you with my service record.” He smiled, then said, “You are wondering why I was not commanding that ship before, I presume.”
Nodding, Marshall replied, “Not that it particularly matters. Its presence here gives me one very important piece of information, in any event.”
“And that is?”
“The Cabal is getting desperate. That ship is the first in its class, less than two years out of spacedock. New ships – especially pioneering, cutting-edge designs – are always harbor queens for a long time. You don’t throw them into the firing line unless you have to. More than that, what would be the point in using a command ship by itself? A waste of capability.” He gestured at the Dauntless again, and said, “That ship was designed to be the core of the fleet that will attack the Confederation.”
“You have a very interesting theory, Captain. I presume you also believe that the task force you encountered had a similar mission, accounting for their presence in this area. You believe – and feel free to stop me if I am getting this wrong – that our resources are far more stripped than we have led you to believe.”
“I do.”
A smile crossing his face, the Commandant said, “Would you like me to tell you a story, Captain? Naturally, it is a work of fiction, and any potential resemblance to real situations would simply be an astounding coincidence.”
“I’d be fascinated.”
“Let us say that there are two governments, one of which has for some time been planning to conquer the other. We won’t go into the reasons why at this point; they are hardly germane to our discussion. But for some years, preparations have been made, ships assembled, new ships constructed, others husbanded, intelligence networks established.”
“Interesting situation,” Marshall said, reaching up for a handhold.
“Then, suddenly, the picture changes. The target begins to move, builds ships of its own, and launches an expedition that uncovers all of this, as well as gathering significant intelligence that cannot be permitted to be known. A significant part of the battle fleet is committed to stop it, but due to political blundering and a too-aggressive commander, that fails, and the fleet is shattered. Now, our friends the would-be invaders have a problem.”
“Their invasion force is gone, and their secret is out.”
“Back home, two groups are struggling for power. The first would use all of the reserves and launch the attack anyway, beginning the war immediately. The first step is risky, to use whatever is left, say a single ship, to try and stop the intelligence getting home.”
“A ship like the Dauntless, for sake of argument,” Marshall offered.
“Indeed. This faction has assembled a second fleet, but in so doing has left their territory vulnerable to attack from other areas, exposed to potential invasion from other governments. Now, there is a second faction, a group that until recently has been pushed back from decision-making, but which is now gaining influence as the aggressor faction fails.”
Folding his arms, Marshall said, “And what does this faction want?”
“Peace. Through negotiation. Perhaps one day a more militant stance will be practical, and the long-term goals for most have not changed, but at the very least, it seems more logical to come to an arrangement, say a non-aggression pact. Of course, for this to work, an ambassador would have to be sent, one who could arrange for safe passage into enemy territory.”
“No wonder you were so quick to rescue me,” he said.
“I was speaking purely theoretically.”
“Naturally. Do continue.”
“That man would have a double mission. You see, the first faction would have enough influence – they still, of course, are in control – to prevent someone simply being sent. So his primary mission….”
“Would be to lead the, shall we say, Dauntless, to find this lost ship, and destroy it. Should that fail, then he would switch to his secondary mission, on the presumption that the failure of his mission would mean that the aggressor faction would be deposed, and the peacemakers come into ascendancy.”
“You read the situation extremely well, Captain. Naturally, the operative would be in an extremely difficult position, and no matter what he thought privately, he would be forced to attempt to accomplish his primary mission first.”
“Even if he really wanted it to fail. What you are saying then…”
“Is that if, in this fictional circumstance, you wanted to truly accomplish your mission and help remove the threat of an invasion, the
Dauntless must be destroyed, no matter what it takes. Only then will you have thwarted the aggressors, and permitted the agent to try and talk peace. Then you will have an ambassador, not a prisoner, to take home.”
“In theory.”
“Theories are wonderful things, Captain. I – and many others, back home – are counting on you to turn them into reality.”
“I’d better get on with it then.” He turned, and paused at the door, “I notice that either way, the agent is poised to win. Either as the leader of a military triumph or as a peacemaker.”
“The genesis of a good plan. A no-lose scenario.”
“Unless we are destroyed by the Dauntless, of course,” Marshall said, smiling at the Commandant's reaction as he left the room.
Chapter Sixteen
Carpenter looked up, struggling to focus on Orlova through a haze of painkillers and medication; Doctor Duquesne was standing over in a corner, frowning. She gestured at the tubes sticking in her arm and managed a thin smile.
Don’t worry, Maggie, I’m fine,” she said, softly.
“No, she isn’t,” Duquesne said.
Shaking her head, Orlova replied, “It’s my fault. Damn it, I’m sorry, Susan.”
“How could you have known what would happen?”
“I should have thought of it, arranged a guard.”
“Sergeant Forrest was fast enough with that. Look,” she gestured at the door, where a trooper was standing at parade rest, his eyes fixed on the corridor. “I couldn’t be in better care. It’s you I’m worried about.”
With a smile, she said, “Don’t worry about me. It’ll take a lot more than a couple of thugs to bring me down.”
“You aren’t immortal, Maggie.” Her eyes started to flutter shut, and Duquesne stepped forward.
“Visiting hours are over, Lieutenant. You can come back and see her again tomorrow.”
Reaching down, Orlova squeezed Carpenter’s hand, and said, “Take care, Susan.” She looked up at Duquesne and said, “How is she? Really?”
“One of my better customers,” she replied. “No major damage, just a few minor fractures. I’ll have her out of here in a couple of days, back on light duty in a week. Most of the monitoring is just a precaution.”
Battlecruiser Alamo: The First Duty Page 15
