Battlecruiser Alamo: Forbidden Seas

by Richard Tongue

   Nodding, Harper replied, “Seems reasonable. Maintain position, then, but don't bother using thrusters. Set up evasive action, just in case we need it.”

   “Aye, ma'am.”

   Taking a deep breath, Harper glanced at the datapad, running down the details of the plan. So far, everything seemed to be going as advertised, but she'd been in enough fights to know that they never went according to the manual. Glancing around, she looked at the technicians working their controls, wondering what she was supposed to do, what Orlova or Marshall did while they commanded during a battle. She could operate the electronic warfare suite, but there wasn't even any point to that, not against this enemy.

   Nelyubov had forced her to take a couple of training simulations, weeks ago, while they were working their way out here, but that had felt more like a game, a distraction than anything else, and she struggled to remember what she had done. Most of it seemed to involve waiting for something to happen.

   Tapping a control, she called up a localized tactical view, taking a look at the current situation. Alamo was nicely out of view, undetectable by the enemy spacecraft, but they were going to work out that something had gone wrong quickly, either because the Xandari battlecruiser wasn't where it was supposed to be, or because they couldn't raise the planet. Unless the enemy base had outlined the situation too them first, but there was nothing they could do about that.

   “Enemy vessel will be in firing range in four minutes,” Arkhipov reported, his face pale.

   “No ordinance at all?” she asked Perry.

   “Not a thing, ma'am,” he replied. “I can come up with some creative insults if you want.”

   “Work on that,” she replied, sitting back in her couch. If all she had to do was sit here and wait for Alamo to dive to the rescue, she could manage that much. Everything seemed to be running itself well enough. Even the work on the ship was going reasonably well, and she called up a quick status report, running her eye over the systems. Everything was running as it should, but they were still way behind some of the corrective maintenance. Nothing that couldn't wait, nothing they would need to day. If they were desperate, they even had a full fuel tank, though unlike Alamo, they only had a two-system range. Far enough to run from the immediate situation, but not enough to get them even close to home. Just a long wait in a dead system, hoping that the Confederation found them first.

   Something was wrong. The ships were moving out of the predicted path, heading for the smaller satellite instead of the planet. She looked at the readouts, and shook her head. For a second, she turned to report her discovery to Orlova, before belatedly realizing that she was the one in the chair.

   “Kat, are you seeing what I'm seeing?”

   “They're moving away. The planning meeting thought they might. Cautious commander.”

   “He's taking the ships to another hendecaspace point. There must be a hundred in this crazy system. Can we plot which one?”

   “Don't worry,” Scott said. “Alamo can outpace that transport without any trouble.”

   “And if they blow it up?”

   “What?”

   “It's unmanned, remember. If I was commanding that smaller ship, I'd be more worried about saving myself and reporting a slave insurrection to my superiors than nursemaiding that hulk.”

   “Damn it. Energy spike, ma'am!” Arkhipov said. Perry moved over to the console, and said, “Four missiles, bearing at the transport. I guess you were right.” Glancing at another panel, he added, “Alamo's on the move, but we'll have a hell of a repair job by the time she gets there.”

   Nodding, Harper said, “Light the engines on this thing, Scott. Let's see what it can do.”

   “Our orders...”

   “Sergeant, I hope you were serious about those insults, because I want you to start transmitting them to the enemy ship. Be sure to sound as much like a Neander as possible, and make as many threats as you can. Scott, take us to the nearest hendecaspace point.”

   “I hope you know what you're doing,” she replied. “Full thrust, now. Hang on.”

   The old ship's engines roared for the first time in a generation, a surge of acceleration pushing Harper back in her pouch as Daedalus' trajectory started to change, curving towards the enemy craft, and out to the hendecaspace point beyond. Perry began to speak gibberish into the communications console, and the response was almost immediate, the enemy vessel altering course to put itself on an intercept trajectory. As the first salvo slammed in the side of the transport, Harper winced as the damage projections started to flash onto her monitor, but within a few seconds, the enemy ship was out of firing range, and homing in on the Daedalus instead.

   “That worked,” Perry replied. “I've learned a few new words as well. I don't think he likes the idea of escaped slaves running home to report what they've seen.”

   “I just bet he doesn't,” Harper said. “Kat, keep us on this heading for a bit, then twist us round so we're drawing them in towards Alamo.”

   “A bit?” Scott asked.

   “You're the expert.” Turning back towards the weapons console, she asked, “Is there anything we can throw at them? If they think we're putting up a fight, then they might be even more eager.”

   “Trust me, Captain, I don't think they can get any more eager than they are.” He frowned, then stepped over to the sensor station, adding, “We've got ten Class Nine penetrometers. They look a little like missiles, I suppose, but they won't do any real damage if they hit.” A smile on his face, he continued, “Not that there is much danger of that. No guidance systems to speak of. We stole them from a UN survey ship as decoys.”

   “Launch a salvo, then,” Harper said, “and for God's sake, stop calling me Captain.”

   “Away,” Perry said, and three points of light moved away from Daedalus, heading ineffectively towards the enemy vessel. Oddly, the incompetence of their on-board systems would likely be a benefit, making it appear as though inexperienced crewmen were operating them. Not that there wasn't an element of truth to that in any case.

   “Intercept in two minutes, ten seconds,” Arkhipov said. “And Captain Orlova would like to speak with you as a matter of some urgency.”

   “Tell her I'll call her back when I can, and that she needs to get here as quickly as possible. Kat, we need more speed. Take off the safeties. They're heading right for us now, so we don't need to worry about the transport any more. Worry about us instead.”

   “Disabling safeties,” she said, throwing a series of switches that sent red flights flashing from her panel, warning text in three different languages flashing on the screen. “I think the computer's upset.”

   “It doesn't get a vote.”

   The engines roared, rising to a high-pitched vibration that ran straight through Harper's head, the increased force of the acceleration pinning her to the couch, as fast as a shuttlecraft. She looked at the trajectory plot, watching the range open up, nodding in satisfaction.

   “Wow,” Scott said. “This ship might be old, but she can really move.”

   “This girl always was fast,” Perry replied with the smile of a proud father. “We had her up to five gravities once, out at Proxima Centauri. Showed that task force a clean pair of heels.”

   “Let's hope we can show them again,” Harper said. “Keep it up, Scott.”

   “Alamo!” Arkhipov said. “Coming around the horizon on a direct intercept course. The enemy ship will see her in thirty seconds.”

   “If we can do anything to help Alamo intercept, make it happen.”

   “Altering course,” Scott reported, her hands a blur across the helm controls. “I think we can open up her firing window a little. Assuming that the enemy commander doesn't just run for cover when he sees us.”

   “As long as he leaves the transport behind, he can go where the hell he wants.” She frowned for a moment, then said, “Though I suppose it doesn't do any harm
to make that less likely. Sergeant, tell the worthless vermin to surrender, and use those words.”

   “Worthless vermin?” he said, shaking his head. “As far as psychological warfare goes, that's pretty damn clumsy.”

   Nodding, Harper replied, “We're playing a role here. The more desperate they think we are, the easier it's going to go in a minute.”

   With a resigned shrug, Perry turned back to the communications station, and after a few seconds started shouting into the microphone, waving his hands in the air for unnecessary emphasis, drawing the eyes of everyone on the bridge as he concluded his triumphant rant.

   Shaking her head, Scott said, “This has to be the craziest battle I've ever fought in.”

   “That's what happens when you put someone like me in command,” Harper said.

   “I have Captain Orlova again,” Arkhipov said. “She seems quite insistent.”

   “Here to spoil our fun,” she said. “Time to intercept?”

   “It was five minutes,” Scott said, “but now that they've seen Alamo, I think it's on its way up to infinity. They're running, but Alamo's got a good head start thanks to us. I expect them to be reduced to their component atoms in a matter of moments.”

   “Well, that's always a promising end to a battle,” Harper said. “Put the Captain on.”

   Orlova's face flickered onto the viewscreen, and she said, “You were meant to stay on station.”

   “They started smashing holes in the transport when they realized something was wrong,” Harper replied. “I couldn't just sit here and watch them wreck the only way the Neander have off this planet. As it is they managed to get a salvo in.”

   After glancing at a console, Orlova replied, “So you decided to use yourself as a decoy and distract them for long enough for us to spring our trap.”

   “Something like that, but I think you'd put it in rather better language in the formal report.”

   “Remind me to have someone give you lessons.” She looked out of the pickup for a moment, then added, “Things are about to get a little busy here. Report to me on board once the battle is over.” A smile on her face, she continued, “And no, that doesn't mean you get out of that job for the moment. Showing competence like that is a good way to convince me to keep you there. Alamo out.”

   Shaking her head as the screen faded, she said, “Sergeant, can we blow up that damn transport ourselves?”

   “I'm afraid not, ma'am.”

   “Pity.”

   “Alamo's closing on the enemy vessel now, ma'am. Laser pulse firing,” Arkhipov reported. Now that Daedalus' role in the battle was over, she could sit back and enjoy the show, and watched as Alamo's laser ripped a savage chunk down its side, sending it spinning out of control, a combination of thruster failure and atmosphere leak confounding the enemy pilot.

   A salvo of missiles raced into space, homing on the enemy vessel, slamming into its side before it could recover, the hull now a mass of battered breaches, armor plates fractured and broken, the ship struggling like a wounded beast as Alamo closed for the kill. By now, Orlova would have called upon them to surrender, knowing that there was no chance they would accept.

   The third salvo killed them, the ship exploding as the reactor terminally failed, the tenth missile bringing them down. Harper shook her head as the image on the screen was replaced by a rapidly expanding mass of debris that slowly faded from view, the last remnants of the ship disappearing from the scanner.

   “What about the transport?” she asked.

   Perry looked at his console, and said, “I don't see any hull breaches. Some damage to the maneuvering thrusters and one of the shuttle bays, but I don't think there is anything they can't fix. It would have taken a hell of a lot of missiles to destroy it.”

   “Maybe they were aiming for a weak spot,” Harper mused. “No, they'd have hit it if they did. They had all the time they needed to set up their shot, or at least they thought they did.”

   “Signal from Alamo, ma'am,” Arkhipov said. “We're to proceed to the transport and run a full external scan. A team from the surface is already on its way up to begin a full inspection, and start work on the modifications for manual control. We'll be flying escort.”

   “Fine. Kat, make all that happen.”

   Shaking her head, she said, “Yes, ma'am. Initiating course change.”

   Looking back at the battle zone, she said, “You know, if we had a full arsenal, we'd have been able to deal with that ship ourselves. We were about equal in size, and we definitely had the edge on maneuverability.”

   “They've got much better armor, though,” Perry warned. “We'd be lucky to survive more than four or five hits. That's why we ended up surrendering in the first place, for all the good it did us.”

   “All that means is that we don't get hit. What's the status of our physical countermeasures?”

   “Fully loaded,” he replied, glancing at the status panel. “I guess they didn't think they were worth disposing of. Either that, or they were planning to use them for training. Maybe they were saving this ship for war games, or something?”

   “Maybe. Sergeant, can we arm ourselves?”

   Shaking his head, he replied, “I don't see how. We don't have a combat fabricator, remember, and Alamo doesn't have the capacity to build new missiles for us, not with all the damage control requirements. I already checked.” Looking ruefully at the panel, he said, “It seems strange to be without our teeth, I must admit.”

   “Perhaps we can find a way around that,” she said. “How many more penetrometers have you got?”

   “Seven,” he said. “I know what you're thinking, and I can't simply bolt on a guidance control system. They're simple little gadgets, with hardware to match. It's hard enough getting them to fly in a straight line.”

   “Any reason they can't be controlled from here. Or, say, from a shuttlecraft? Pavel was telling me that they've got quite a few spare ones on the surface. If we could borrow one of the smaller ones and install the package...”

   “We'd still have to work out the control relays. I'm not even sure they're up to that.” He paused, then said, “Though that would be a lot easier than trying some sort of autonomous package. They'd be the devil to control, though.”

   “Just as well we've got a veteran missileman to handle that, then,” she said, rising with an effort from her couch. “Scott, I guess the ships is yours until I get back. I'd better go and find out what the Captain is planning next.”

   “Aye, aye, skipper,” Scott said with a smile.

  Chapter 12

   “Well, that almost went badly wrong,” Nelyubov said, shaking his head. “Were you serious abut leaving her in command of Daedalus?”

   With a sigh, Orlova replied, “I don't think we have much choice. Look, I wouldn't have placed her in a combat situation out of choice, but as the lead on an engineering project, it makes sense. I really can't spare anyone else, anyway. The whole crew's working round-the-clock to put the pieces back together right here, those who aren't helping evacuate the entire population of a planet to a starship we captured this morning.”

   A thin smile on his face as they walked into the briefing room, he replied, “I know things aren't exactly normal at the moment, but I'm still struggling with the idea of Captain Kristen Harper, if I'm honest.”

   “The idea doesn't exactly fill me with unalloyed pleasure, Frank, but who the hell else do I send? I need to keep you here to coordinate the shuttle launches, Powell's running the astrographic team while we integrate the new gravimetric data, and if I sent Quinn over there I think the ship would quite literally fall apart.”

   “Joe Kibaki.”

   “Who can't be spared from his duties on the bridge, especially as things stand. I've got to keep a permanent watch on duty who has some idea what they are doing. Want to run through the list? Cantrell has to stay on board in case strange alien beasts leap out
of the hendecaspace points, something which, I note, has already happened to us once. Besides, look at their time of service. Crazy as it sounds, Harper has seniority. Who would you give it to?”

   “I take your point,” he replied. “I'd be tempted to give it to Scott or Salazar...”

   “If Pavel wasn't trying to break all records on the shuttle training schedule, I probably would. As for Scott, she's an unknown quantity at the moment. After what she went through, I can't take the risk.” Shaking her head, she said, “Strange as it seems, Harper's the only option at the moment. Though I do intend to send Joe Kibaki over there before we leave the system. Everything should settle down a little by then. I hope.”

   “Some hope,” Nelyubov said, taking his seat next to her at the table, looking around the empty room. “On the subject of Salazar...”

   “I read the same report, and I placed it exactly where it belongs. I'm not going to censure an officer for doing something I would probably have done myself, albeit perhaps less forcefully, and I'll be damned if I penalize an officer for rejecting mindless bigotry.”

   With a thin smile, he replied, “Just checking, Maggie. Do you want me to phrase a polite but meaningless reply?”

   “Let him stew until I go down for the final meeting.”

   “About that, by the way...”

   “I'm going,” she said. “For a start, I want to see the situation down there for myself, and what happened to Pavel only reinforces that. And besides, if I refused to set foot on the surface, that would be an insult, and I don't want to give Lostok the satisfaction. I'll take the guided tour, and if he decides to push the issue, well, I might expand his English vocabulary a little. It isn't as though he has any choice but to accept our help.”

   “And if we need to build a relationship with these people against the Xandari?”

   The door opened, and the senior staff walked into the room before Orlova could reply. Quinn, Powell, Cantrell, Harper and Kibaki, one after another, after she'd made it quite clear that attendance at this meeting was not optional. Even Cooper would be joining in, albeit by remote from the outpost he'd established at Battle Pass, ample precautions taken to ensure that none of the Neander could overhear. As the last of the officers took their seats, his face flickered onto the far wall.