Starship Tomahawk (The Hive Invasion Book 2)

by Jake Elwood

  We're going to lose. And the Hive doesn't take prisoners.

  She stared through the melted remains of the starboard window and watched as a pair of alien ships came together, merging into one craft. A third ship joined them, then a fourth. And the cluster came toward her. It rotated, she saw a familiar black circle, and the circle began to glow red. This is it. We're out of weapons, and we can't dodge. I guess my war is over. I did my best, and it wasn't enough. I wish …

  The cluster of ships exploded. Shrapnel pelted the window, and a melted chunk of steelglass broke away. Brennan watched with fatalistic detachment as a glittering section of transparent metal size of a dinner plate came spinning toward her and sliced into her abdomen. Vapor puffed from the cut as her suit lost air, and she opened her mouth, wondering if she could come up with some memorable last words.

  Her chair turned under the force of the impact, rotating lazily until she was staring through the port window. She saw the Gate, nearly filled by the bulk of a cruiser sliding majestically in from Earth. Well, it's about time you got here. Without air in her lungs she couldn't speak, but her last thought was, Those would have been good final words.

  Chapter 23 – Kaur

  The clatter of docking clamps told Kaur the cruiser Hannibal had docked with the Achilles, but it wasn't until a figure in a Navy vac suit with a lieutenant's stripes on the chest stepped onto the bridge that she properly realized she was in command.

  She'd been helping ease Brennan into a body bag. Now she stood and faced the newcomer. It was a man of thirty or so, Asian from what Kaur could see through the faceplate of his helmet. The man's cheeks moved as he spoke. Kaur, not hearing a thing, shrugged.

  After a moment she heard a click in his helmet's speakers and a voice said, "Can you hear me now, Ma'am?"

  Kaur nodded. "Commander Kaur." She glanced down at Brennan as a sailor sealed the body bag. "I guess I'm the commanding officer."

  "Lieutenant Ogawa." He saluted briefly. "I brought a technical crew with me. Most of them are in the engine room." He looked around the bridge. "It looks like you've had quite a scrap."

  "Yes." Kaur suddenly felt so weary she could barely stand, and her eyes strayed to the captain's chair. It's mine again. For a few minutes. Captain of a demolished ship. My career's on fire. It was a selfish thought, and she squashed it. "Thanks for the assistance."

  "You're welcome." There was something off in Ogawa's voice, and Kaur felt some of her weariness slough away, replaced by a growing alertness.

  "I have a few things to tell you," Ogawa said. Body language, stifled at the best of times in career military personnel, was even more difficult to read through a vac suit. Ogawa, though, had an unmistakable stiffness in his posture and speech that told Kaur there was a subtext to his message, and a dangerous one at that.

  Kaur glanced around the bridge, wondering who else was listening. After the EMP strike she'd lost the ability to change channels through her implants. Hell, she couldn’t even tell what channel he was on. Odds were, every vac suit on the Achilles was on the same channel now, which meant plenty of listening ears.

  Displaying her best poker face, she said, "Go on, Lieutenant."

  "Colonel O'Hare will be taking command of your ship." Ogawa gestured at the ravaged starboard window. "He's just waiting for basic repairs. As soon as the ship is pressurized again he'll come aboard." Ogawa shrugged minutely. "The colonel doesn't like vac suits."

  Kaur gaped at him, completely flabbergasted. "Colonel O'Hare? That's not even a Navy rank. Who the hell is Colonel O'Hare?"

  Ogawa frowned and touched a finger to the side of his helmet, about where his ear would be. "The colonel is with the Earth Defense Force. Spacecom has turned over command of the fleet to the EDF. Every Navy ship has an EDF officer in command now."

  "What?" Kaur realized she was staring like an idiot, mouth open, eyebrows practically on the top of her head. She couldn’t stop, though. "Some ground-based civilian organization is commanding Navy ships?" She shook her head, wondering if she was dreaming. Maybe I was injured during the battle. I'm anoxic, and hallucinating. This can't be real. "Does this Colonel O'Hare have Naval experience?"

  Ogawa, his eyes bleak, touched a finger to his helmet about where his lips would be. Then he cupped a hand behind his ear and jerked a thumb in the direction of the cruiser. "The colonel is an excellent officer in the EDF. The EDF is helping keep the Navy properly on track in these difficult times." The expression on Ogawa's face made it clear he didn't believe a word he was saying.

  I must be dreaming. It's the stress of combat. Is there really a Navy lieutenant in front of me afraid to speak his mind because someone is eavesdropping? Kaur opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. This is a different kind of battle than the one you just fought, but it's a battle nevertheless, and the stakes might not be any lower. Don't blunder ahead until you've scouted the terrain.

  "That's great," she said at last. "I look forward to meeting this Colonel O'Hare."

  Ogawa nodded, his face a mix of relief and shame. "They're bringing over a window from the Bayonet. We'll have your bridge sealed up in no time."

  "Terrific." Kaur plodded over to the captain's chair and plopped herself down. I might as well enjoy sitting in it while I have the chance. It won't be mine for long. "Do you have anything else to tell me, Lieutenant?"

  "Not at the moment. I'll stay on board to liaise with the repair crew." He tilted his head, listening to something over his implants. "Three of your crew are scheduled for transfer to the hospital bay on the Hannibal."

  Kaur nodded. The Hannibal would have better medical facilities than the Achilles.

  "It'll take some time, though," Ogawa continued. "They're treating casualties from the Bayonet first." He lowered his head for a moment. "It's pretty bad over there."

  "Commander Kaur," Hopkins interrupted, and pointed through the starboard window.

  Kaur rose and walked to the window. She was in time to see a couple of sailors in vac suits come drifting up, a large panel of steelglass between them. Kaur watched as they left the panel floating, removed the remains of the old window, and sent the chunks spinning off into the void. The two of them put the replacement window in place, then moved around the edges, tightening flaps that Kaur couldn’t see. They finished in a few minutes, gave her a thumbs-up through the window, and moved away along the hull. They would find plenty of damage to keep them busy, Kaur supposed.

  "I'm opening an air feed," a sailor announced. Frost formed on the steelglass, then quickly faded. The pane was marred by a scrape as long as Kaur's arm, right in the middle. She examined it from the inside, wondering what impact could have left such a big mark. Well, it's not perfect, but it's a big improvement over the old window.

  "Pressure's holding at 25%," the sailor said. "Should I bring it the rest of the way up, Ma'am?"

  "Yes."

  As the pressure rose she turned to Ogawa. "It'll be safe enough for us to open our faceplates in a moment," he said. "If something fails, we're all in vac suits. The faceplates will close again."

  Ogawa nodded. Kaur was telling him something any cadet knew. He seemed to realize the speech wasn't really meant for his ears.

  "It won't really be safe in here without a vac suit, though," Kaur continued. "That window seems solid, but we can't be sure until it's been checked over in a proper space dock. It could fail at any moment."

  "Yes." Ogawa's face showed disgust at the subterfuge, but his voice was cheerful enough. "You're right."

  The pressure light inside Kaur's helmet glowed green. She waited a moment, then opened her faceplate.

  Ogawa surprised her by removing his helmet completely. He tucked the helmet under his arm, then stared pointedly at Kaur, waiting.

  I can't turn off my suit radio. Not with the electronics fried. It's a permanent open channel. We can't speak freely until- She removed her helmet.

  The lieutenant looked smaller without his helmet. He looked haggard and old. For a long moment he
just stared at Kaur, then looked around at the rest of the bridge crew. Everyone had their faceplates open. They were all staring at Ogawa.

  Ogawa took a deep breath and said, "We fired a missile at downtown Montreal."

  "What?"

  The exclamation came from more than one throat, and Ogawa made frantic shushing gestures. "You can't speak freely over the radio anymore. In fact, I've stopped speaking freely on my own ship." His face twisted. "I don't know that the ship is bugged yet, but I have no doubt the EDF will get around to it."

  Kaur said, "You fired a missile at Montreal?"

  "Yes."

  She hadn't heard so much despair in one small word since the awful day her mother sat her down and said, "Cancer."

  "A lot's happened back on Earth while you've been away," Ogawa said. "Statsminister Acton has gone insane." He shook his head. "No, he's perfectly sane. He loves power, and he uses the EDF to get it, and to hold it." He looked into Kaur's face, his eyes haunted. "And now he's got the Navy, too."

  Kaur said, "Yes, but Montreal?"

  "There were demonstrations. People with signs that said 'Democracy Now' and 'We Demand Free Speech'." Ogawa's lip curled. "Real troublemakers. They were camped out on the steps of the North East Parliament Hall. Thousands of people. Singing and chanting and holding candles. They blocked streets, but they never hurt anyone, and they never destroyed property."

  The sense of unreality was back, stronger now. Kaur did her best to ignore it. "What happened?"

  Ogawa spread his hands in a helpless shrug. "Acton gave them an ultimatum. Then he went on the feeds with a long speech about how humanity needed to unite and anyone who wasn't on board was a traitor to the human species." His eyes slid away from Kaur's face. "And then he called Colonel Laycraft. That's the new CO of the Hannibal. And he ordered Lake to put an end to the demonstrations. Immediately. By any means necessary." Ogawa looked at the deck plates, his voice small. "Laycraft gave her orders. And, God forgive us, we obeyed."

  "But – how could you do it?" The speaker was Hopkins, and Ogawa's head whipped around. Hopkins had his helmet under his arm, though. Most of the bridge crew had followed suit.

  Ogawa seemed to shrink inside his vac suit. "We were cowards," he said.

  "But what were you afraid of?" Hopkins persisted. "No court-martial would have convicted you of insubordination."

  Speaking of insubordination, Kaur thought, that's no way to speak to a lieutenant. She didn't interrupt, though.

  "It's not the same Navy," Ogawa said. "There have been executions."

  Kaur gaped at him. "Executions?"

  Ogawa lifted his hand to his ear. "I'm being summoned. I have to go." He lifted his helmet, then lowered it again. "I wanted you to know what they'll use your ship for. If you let O'Hare take command." He looked around the bridge. "You're more or less space-worthy. Fly away. Make an excuse and leave now, before O'Hare can come on board."

  Kaur opened her mouth to scoff at the idea. Instead she said, "We should offload the wounded first."

  "They'll be tried for mutiny if you do."

  "What?" Kaur blinked. "That's insane."

  "Welcome to the new Navy," Ogawa said. Then he put his helmet on, checked the seals, opened the bridge door, and stepped through the shimmering wall of a force field into the vacuum on the other side.

  Hopkins said, "Is he for real?"

  Kaur ignored him, looking down at the captain's chair, suddenly hating the burden of command. This is not what I trained for. I'm supposed to be fighting aliens, not playing stupid political games.

  I'm supposed to be following orders without question. After all, we're at war, right?

  Downtown Montreal. God help us.

  She looked up. "Get the Hannibal on the radio. Tell them we've got a serious engine problem. We're afraid of an explosion. We're going to move away to a safe distance until we can be sure it's under control."

  Hopkins stared at her, then nodded and reached for the crystal radio on his console, technology simple enough to survive the Hive EMP weapon.

  Kaur picked up the telephone handset mounted on the arm of her chair. She hadn't had to use the telephone on the Tomahawk except in drills. The captain's station on the Achilles had an identical setup, she was relieved to note. She flipped the switch marked "Engine Room" and waited while a buzzer rang.

  "Engine room." The sailor on the other end coughed. They had air, then, but they hadn't yet cleared the smoke.

  "I'm going to need a wormhole pretty quickly," Kaur said. "Same range as last time. We're going back to Naxos. I'll call you when we're lined up."

  "Aye aye. We'll be ready."

  Kaur hung up. Hopkins turned in his chair and said, "They're not the least bit happy. They're opening the docking clamps, though." The hull clanged and echoed as if to illustrate his words. "I had to tell them we were going to gun the engine whether we were still clamped or not." He gave Kaur a twisted grin. "I almost miss the aliens, Ma'am."

  "Bring us around. Point us at Ariadne." Kaur stood up and paced, then made herself stand still. The Hannibal and half a dozen smaller ships swung past the starboard window in lazy majesty as the Achilles turned.

  "Ready, Sir," said Pitts.

  Kaur returned to her chair and called the engine room. "We need that wormhole now."

  "It's opening now, Ma'am."

  Kaur couldn't see the wormhole ahead of the ship, but Pitts listened to his telephone, then said, "It's open."

  "Take us through."

  The ship surged forward and the Gate, the ruined Bayonet, the Hannibal, and the rest of the fleet disappeared. Ariadne appeared instead, a brown orb the size of an apple in the distance.

  We've lost them for the moment, but they'll come after us. Kaur leaned back in his chair, wishing heartily someone else was in charge. What the hell do I do now?

  Chapter 24 – Christine

  Christine Goldfarb hiked through Founders Park, frowning at the fallen branches on the paths and other signs of neglect. She followed the hedge that marked the boundary of the park, then came to a gap and paused for her first glimpse in weeks of Harlequin.

  Smoke rose in a grubby smear from somewhere in the heart of the little city, but for the most part Harlequin seemed intact. She'd been hiking for hours, but her weariness dropped away and she smiled to see her home once again in human hands. Harlequin was the heart of the colony. Sure, people worked throughout the crater, tending crops and orchards. Harlequin, though, was where they came to meet, to dance, to plan and to dream. Raucous public meetings took place in Harlequin, and live music, and art projects and impromptu gatherings. Harlequin was where they stopped being a bunch of farmers and became a community.

  She didn't think the off-worlders really understood that the people of Ariadne were a community. It was different on Earth. They had cities that were a thousand years old. They thought of places like Hawking, built in the interstellar age, as new and young. But there was no one left alive who could remember the construction of Hawking. It was a place you moved to, or you grew up there and then you bought a house.

  Harlequin was different. The people who lived in Harlequin were the people who had built Harlequin. They had roots the people of Earth just couldn't understand. You didn't get roots like that from browsing real estate listings and making a down payment.

  Lieutenant Nicholson seemed nice, but he spoke of evacuation as if it were a simple, obvious choice. As if the people of Ariadne could simply pack up their belongings and leave.

  As if you could take your beating heart out of your chest and just ship it off to Earth where it could be safe.

  "Like hell," she muttered, left the park, and entered the city.

  The tram wasn't running, so she'd just have to keep walking. She passed one empty house after another, and a few where the residents had moved back in. She saw a man raking twigs and leaves from his lawn while a woman washed the front windows. They had their front door propped open, airing out the house, and she could hear children ca
lling to one another inside.

  Her own apartment was on the far side of Harlequin. She would get there eventually, but not right away. She waved to the man with the rake, got a cheery wave in return, and kept walking.

  The infrastructure had to be in quite a mess. Still, things weren't as bad as she'd expected. The city's lawns and flowerbeds were brown, but the grass wasn't dead. Rain didn't fall on Ariadne. That meant the sprinkler system had kept on running through much of the occupation. It was off now, though.

  How long will it take to get water running again? How far did the woman have to walk with the bucket she's using to clean her windows? Christine shrugged. It's a big job, but we'll do it. That's what life in the colonies is all about. You meet one challenge at a time, and you just keep going.

  Harlequin would recover – until the aliens returned. She explored the thought as she walked. The Navy had driven them back, but she sensed the Hive would return in force.

  They'd win, too. Spacecom's agenda included the destruction of the aliens and the protection of Earth. The defence of Naxos wouldn't be a priority, not when the civilian population could simply be evacuated. If most of them refused evacuation, well, that wasn't Spacecom's fault, now was it?

  We've got a big fleet protecting us right now, but they won't stay. There are other colonies, after all. And the alien home world, wherever that is. Most of these ships will leave.

  And then the aliens will return, and then what?

  She thought of the project she'd been working on before and after the invasion. Maybe – just maybe – I can do something about it.

  Harlequin didn't have much of an industrial district. Still, she was relieved when she came to several long stone buildings and found them intact. Rebuilding would be hard enough even with fabricators. Without them? She didn't want to think about it.

  The big doors to the main factory building stood open. That was the only name it had. It was the factory. The Naxos economy wasn't built on competing industries. As she approached the open doors Christine heard voices inside, men and women engaged in a good-natured argument. She recognized several voices, people she hadn't seen or heard from since before the invasion, and her heart lightened. George Thompson is still alive. And Katrina. And is that Luce?