Battlecruiser Alamo: Forbidden Seas

by Richard Tongue

   “Having some trouble, Ensign?” Kelot asked, loping towards him.

   “Just taking another look at the orbital footage,” he replied.

   “And having a rest at the same time.” Shaking his head, he continued, “You softskins don't have any stamina. A group of my people would have reached the target an hour ago.”

   “Why didn't they, then?” Stewart asked. Cooper flashed her a warning glare, but Kelot just laughed.

   “Sending you up here wasn't my idea. Blame that commanding officer of yours. If you'd just issue us with plasma weapons, you could go back to that nice warm starship up there and have a rest.” Turning back towards the summit, he said, “Let's go.”

   Shaking his head, Cooper gestured for the squad to move forward. Stewart moved up beside him a scowl on her face, as they watched the Neander press ahead into the snow.

   “That man has a real attitude problem, sir.”

   “He's been through a lot, Corporal. Five years of captivity can do bad things to you.” Pointing at the rear, he said, “Have everyone be on the alert, and tell them to light their weapons.”

   “We'll show up like a flare on any infra-red sensors.”

   Nodding, he replied, “I know, that's what I'm counting on. We're never going to find them in all of this, so the only way we're going to get a battle today is if we draw them to us. Get moving.”

   “Yes, sir,” she said, moving back to the rear of the squad, issuing orders as she went. Cooper reached down to his power pack, throwing the charge lever to maximum, watching the indicator run up as the weapon surged to full capacity. Never mind being visible on a hand-held sensor, the amount of power they were using would be visible from Alamo.

   At least the gun was keeping his hands warm now, and he edged his way up the slope, following in the footsteps of the agile Kelot, pebbles sliding down behind him as he pushed through the wasteland. He looked around at the scenery, the stark and beautiful snow covering black rock, jagged outcroppings slashing up from the ground. And behind every one of them, his imagination conjured by a Xandari raiding party, waiting to strike.

   Finally, with a last effort, he reached the ridge, towering mountains on either side of him, and looked out over the vast plain beyond, a frozen sea that seemed to stretch endlessly to the horizon, a series of strange flags decorating the landscape, a brief flash of color in a monochromatic environment. Methodically, Kelot was pulling them out of the soil, tossing them to the ground.

   “They planted them here,” he said. “Some sort of sacred site for them.”

   “If we came here just for this…,”

   “No,” the Neander said, savagely shaking his head. “More than that. They are out here, Ensign, watching and waiting. More than a hundred unaccounted for back at the settlement.”

   “We didn't recover all of the bodies,” Stewart said. “Especially not from the command center. There wasn't anything left to find.”

   “Even so, we saw some heading up here, and your ship has picked them up with its sensors. They're out here, somewhere, watching and waiting, plotting their vengeance. Don't make any mistake about it. They are evil, and seek nothing other than our deaths. Yours as well as mine, now. You cannot afford to relax your vigilance for even a moment.”

   Shaking his head, Cooper said, “Price, Lopez, fan out and take a look, but stay in sight. If you see anything suspicious, report at once.”

   “Shoot first,” Kelot added. “They might not give you a second chance.”

   “Proceed with caution,” Cooper replied, turning to the Neander. “We don't need to start a fight we can't win. Move out.” As the two troopers heading in opposite directions, making their way along the ridge, he said, “I'd appreciate it if you refrained from giving orders to my men in future, Kelot.”

   “Someone needs to keep them alive out here.”

   Shaking his head, Cooper asked, “How many ground engagements have you fought? Just out of interest?”

   He looked out at the plain, and replied, “I've lived on this rock for years. I've fought the Xandari before. I know how they think.” He paused, then pointed at a small black dot on the plain. “What's that?”

   Pulling up his binoculars, the argument forgotten, Cooper looked out across the vast, endless expanse, tracking around until he found what the Neander had spotted. A small dome, with tiny figures around shoveling snow to bury it, digging out a series of trenches around. He could make out camouflage nets being deployed over buggies.

   “I make a hundred and ten people,” Stewart said, shaking her head. Dropping her binoculars, she added, “We'd never have seen it from orbit. They're doing too good a job at concealing it, and the snow will mask at least some of the heat.”

   “Ten vehicles, all armed.” Passing the binoculars to Kelot, he asked, “What do you think?”

   “I think we've found what we came for,” he replied. “They're setting up some sort of forward outpost, a base to launch their attack.” Turning to Cooper, he continued, “We're getting too close to night now to risk a strike today, but we can be ready to move at dawn tomorrow.”

   “What?”

   “We've got to launch an immediate attack, smash them before they can organize.”

   Shaking his head, Cooper said, “Far too risky.”

   Nodding, Stewart added, “They've got prepared fortifications and are well dug-in, and they've picked a spot that will give them plenty of time to get ready for an attack. There's a better way.

   Looking from one to the other, Kelot's face dropped to a sneer, before he nodded, smiling, and said, “An orbital strike. Of course, I should have thought of that. It isn't going to be easy, though. Not unless your technology is a lot better than ours.”

   “Alamo isn't set up for that sort of attack, and we don't have any aerospace fighters with us.”

   “Then you're just going to sit here and do nothing while they get ready to strike?” Stepping towards the ridge, pointing at the hidden base, he said, “Those bastards are just sitting out there, laughing at us. They'll have depots of equipment stashed all over this area, and if we allow them time to mobilize, then we're just throwing away the initiative. I can have a thousand men ready to move by dawn, and we can launch a strike to finish them off for good, especially with your people in support.”

   “Listen to me…,” Cooper began, but the sound of a plasma bolt sent him diving for cover, the squad throwing themselves behind any protection they could find. Martinez snapped off a shot, slamming into the mountain above, a cascade of rocks crashing down the slope towards them. Peering into the distance, he saw Lopez in cover, gesturing at the top of the mountain, as a burst of machine gun fire rattled around, spitting into the ground, keeping them pinned down.

   He turned to the rear, and Price was waving at him as well, gesturing at a pile of rocks, a pair of Xandari just visible behind them, the tops of their heads sticking out of cover. One quick burst of plasma fire made them pay for their carelessness, setting the mound tumbling in all directions, the ball of plasma fire setting the bodies on fire, smoke rising into the air.

   Cooper cursed, turning back to the original flank. There the Xandari were being far more cautious, and the only evidence of their presence was the rattle of suppressive fire pinning them in position. Ghaison and Rhodes tried a few speculative plasma bolts, but aside from some impressive rock slides, they didn't seem to have having any effect on their opponents.

   He pulled out his communicator, playing with the frequency in an attempt to get a channel, but wasn't surprised when the only response to his signals was static. They were on their own, at least for the moment. Sergeant Hunt would probably send a party to investigate if they failed to return, but that wouldn't be for hours. By then, with night falling, they'd freeze to death.

   “Right,” he said. “Stewart, in five seconds...”

   Before he could complete his order, Kelot rose to his feet
, waving his hands in the air as he sprinted forward, three bursts of machine-gun fire spilling out around him. Leveling his rifle, Cooper tried a shot at the ridge-line, trying to follow the bullets back to their point of origin, and was rewarded with a stark, desperate scream as he took down one of the Xandari, Stewart taking another one with a well-aimed snap snot. The firing abruptly ceased, and Kelot walked over to him, a smile on his face.

   “You see,” he said. “Decisive action is the way to victory, Ensign.”

   “To hell with that!” he raged. “You damn near got yourself killed, and for nothing.” Glancing around, he looked at his squad as they cautiously emerged from cover. No sign of any casualties, one blessing of the brief engagement.

   “Four Xandari are dead,” the Neander replied. “That isn't nothing. Far from it. And when we attack that base tomorrow, you'll see that the same sort of decisive action will win us the day. My forces...”

   “Will go precisely nowhere, Kelot. Even if you can get permission to try such a fundamentally stupid stunt, my people will not support you. I won't throw the lives of my platoon away because you can't tolerate the Xandari breathing the same air as you.” Gesturing at the plain, he said, “You see a secret base making preparations to attack us. I see a strategic advantage. We know exactly where they are.”

   “They know that, sir,” Stewart noted.

   “True, but they've obviously invested a lot of time in that facility, and if I was their commander, I'd be loath to move it without a good reason. They know that Alamo doesn't have ground attack capability.” Glancing around the pass, he said, “This is an excellent bottleneck. Are there any other ways they can reach the settlement in a hurry?”

   “No,” he replied. “Not with the buggies, anyway. It'd take more than a day to work around the long way.”

   “Then if they do launch an attack, they'll have to come through here. We'll throw a series of fortifications and observation posts, right here, and keep a squad stationed at all times. Some of your people to reinforce, as well, and I'll even issue them with Triplanetary equipment.” Looking down at the plain, he said, “If they do decide to move out, we'll have all the advance warning we could possibly want. They might see us coming, but we'll see them.”

   “What happens then?” Kelot asked. “Run for home, and let them win?”

   “Why not?” Cooper asked. “Kelot, we're not out to conquer this planet. Lostok said himself that it couldn't be defended, and he was right. The best we can hope for is to get as many of your people as possible off this world, and back to the Collective. Why throw their lives away for a battle you can't win, and one that you don't need to fight.”

   “You don't understand,” he replied. “We've lived here, we've suffered here, and we've earned the right to see them pay for what they have done.”

   “That's fair enough,” Cooper said. “Corporal Hunt, give Kelot your plasma rifle.”

   “Sir? That's a violation...”

   “I gave you an order, Corporal.”

   Shaking her head, she unbuckled the harness, passing first the power pack and then the rifle itself to the Neander, who looked down at the pile of equipment in his hands, frowning.

   “What is this?”

   “I believe the enemy base is about three miles from here. With luck, you'll make it before dark. That plasma rifle has enough charge for thirty shots, assuming the Xandari give you the chance to take them.”

   “I don't understand.”

   Stepping close enough to Kelot to smell his breath, Cooper said, “If you want to go down there and get your vengeance, I'm not going to stop you. Hell, I'm giving you the tools to do a good job of it. Equipment I can replace, but I cannot replace the lives of my men, and I'm not going to allow you to throw them away.” Gesturing at the slope, he said, “Go. But go alone, and know that it will all be for nothing. No one will support you, and in all probability you'll be dead long before you reach the Xandari base.”

   “Ensign...”

   “I've been where you are. I've suffered, I've lost people I cared about, people I was responsible for, and I longed to get my revenge as well. Take it from me. All it does is poison you, ruin you, lead you and those with you to disaster. You can't take it personally. We don't have that luxury.” Looking back at the settlement, gleaming domes and shuttles resting on launch pads, he added, “Five thousand of your people are counting on you to lead them to safety. They don't care about their vengeance. They just want to go home. Are you really going to deny them that right?”

   Passing the rifle back to Stewart, he replied, “You can keep this. There will be a time, Ensign, in the near-future, when you will regret this decision.”

   “Maybe,” he said. “I'm willing to take that risk, against the certainty of the hundreds of casualties we'd sustain in a preemptive strike.” Shaking his head, he continued, “We'll get plenty of advance warning if they decide to try anything. And with any luck, any luck at all, we'll all be on our way home long before they get the chance.”

   “Even if they launched an attack, what could they do?” Price said. “We'd outnumber them, and they'd be striking at fixed defenses. There's no point giving them the tactical advantage.”

   A frown still etched on his face, Kelot said, “I hope you aren't making a serious mistake, Ensign. And I hope I'm not making a bigger one by listening to you.” Gesturing down the slope, he said, “Let's get back to the settlement before it gets dark. We can set up your tripwire in the morning.” Shaking his head, he continued, “There's no point remaining here any longer.”

   “Move them out, Corporal,” Cooper said, as Price and the others edged down the slope, leaving the smoldering battlefield behind. Stewart stayed for a moment, before taking her position as rear guard, leaving Cooper alone on the pass. He glanced down at his datapad, marking the spot of the base, sending the coordinates up to Alamo for permanent observation. Though he might not want to admit it, a part of him agreed with Kelot. It would be satisfying to storm that base, wipe out the last of the Xandari presence on this planet with a single blow, run up the Triplanetary flag.

   Satisfying but stupid. In six, seven days from now, they'd be leaving this planet, never to return, the dead as the only monuments to their folly. He'd already lost three men, three friends, in the fighting for this planet. Three too many. Taking a deep breath, with one last glance at the wide, gleaming plain, he turned around, following his squad down the slope. The wind was getting colder as the sun continued its descent towards the horizon, and they still had a long march back to the warmth of the habitation domes.

  Chapter 10

   Shaking his head, Salazar stepped out of the improvised lecture theater, taking a deep swig of the fruit juice in his hand, wishing that it was something stronger. One of his students followed him, waving a datapad under his nose, and he turned to the young Neander in irritation.

   “You can't have finished the course projection yet.”

   “But I have, sir,” he replied. “Here. The smoothest path from surface to orbit, and the minimum window between launches. Faster than the model you showed us.” Salazar snatched the datapad, and nodded.

   “Very good.” The Neander beamed, and he added, “If you're happy to kill everyone on board.”

   “What? The acceleration is well within safe levels, isn't it, sir?”

   “Sure, each individual ride is fine, but you're assuming no time for maintenance checks.” Shaking his head, he continued, “Not only that, but you're giving the passengers zero seconds to get into the transport. It isn't just about the flight itself, kid, but what happens at either end. Have you run through a post-flight checklist yet?”

   Nodding, the Neander said, “Yes, sir, I have. I should have connected the two. I'm sorry.”

   “Let me see,” Salazar muttered, tapping a control, and frowning. “That's actually pretty good. You've missed the redundant thruster check and the landing gear inspecti
on, but for a first try, that's reasonable.” He looked up, and said, “Next question. Why am I doing this?”

   “Sir?”

   “Why have I asked you to come up with your own post-flight checklists, rather than using the ones that the designers spent thousands of hours preparing?”

   The cadet paused, then replied, “Because we need to know for ourselves what is involved, and that we'll benefit if we have some idea why things work, not just how? That this isn't something that you can just do by rote?”

   “Who the hell are you, anyway?” Salazar said. “That was a better answer than I gave at indoctrination.”

   “Maqua, sir,” the Neander said, snapping to a passable imitation of attention. “Deckhand.”

   “Deckhand? Not shuttle pilot?”

   “I was taking some lessons when we were captured, sir. Just before we launched, I soloed.” Shaking his head, he replied, “I'd hoped to transfer to flight school full-time, but my application was rejected.”

   “In God's name, why?”

   Maqua looked startled, and said, “My parents are Undercaste, sir.” Shaking his head, he replied, “It wasn't really worth trying. They only take a handful of the lower castes, and only those with some connections.” Looking out at the field, he said, “I'm looking forward to taking a shuttle up, even if it is just for this mission.”

   “We're hitting the simulators in an hour,” Salazar replied. “You're up first. I expect you to set a good example for the others. Understood?”