Battlecruiser Alamo: Forbidden Seas

by Richard Tongue

   “And the risk?”

   Looking around at the field, Salazar said, “I honestly don't know how to calculate it. There are some excellent pilots around here, but far more of them are the learn-by-rote variety, and they're well out of practice.” Shaking his head, he added, “I'll be surprised if we get away without having someone killed. Naturally, ma'am, we will do everything we can to reduce the risk given the operational parameters.”

   “I still want to be ready for departure on schedule, Sub-Lieutenant. That's about the only thing that Lostok and I actually agree on.” Glancing at the landing field, she said, “Where did all these people come from?”

   Glancing down at his datapad, Cooper replied, “As far as I can work out, they were scheduled to take the first rides up to the transport, well, an hour ago. Five hundred and nine in this group, including all of the children young enough to ride unaccompanied.”

   “Pavel?”

   “I can do it, ma'am, if you order, but it'll mean tearing the schedule to pieces. We've got another twelve logistics flights to do yet, and the command team keep adding new requirements to the list. That's how we've ended up in this mess in the first place.”

   Fire in her eyes, Orlova yelled, “Lostok!” but before she could say another word, there was a loud crack from the crowd, followed by a dozen more, and Cooper dragged her to the ground, Salazar drawing his pistol to cover her. Over to the left, he saw Lostok lying on the field, a woman lying on top of him with a gaping wound in her back. Screams and yells came from the crowd as it scattered in a thousand directions, all of them racing for cover.

   “Damn it!” Salazar yelled, when he saw what had happened. Heedless of his safety, he raced over to her, and said, “Maqua, I need a medical kit on the double. Move it!”

   Lostok looked up, and said, “What is happening?”

   “Someone's trying to kill you,” Cooper said, his eyes ranging around the field. The crowd had almost dispersed, and there was no sign of the would-be assassin. “Are you alright, Captain?”

   Panting for breath, she said, “Other than someone knocking the wind out of me, I'm fine.”

   With a nod, he rose to his feet, drawing his pistol, gesturing for McBride and Rhodes to move forward from the firing positions the two Espatiers had taken on instinct. He looked around the area, spotting a rifle on the ground, and snatching a glove from his pocket, moved down to pick it up.

   “Triplanetary Service Rifle,” he said. “Means nothing. We've handed out more than a hundred of these since we arrived, and the Xandari might have had them already. I'll try and match the service number, but I have a feeling that won't go anywhere.”

   Maqua raced past him, medical kit in hand, and Salazar snatched it from him as he knelt down by the wounded woman, trying to patch her up. Cooper cursed at the lack of a field medic, both of them waiting at Battle Pass for an attack he didn't think would come.

   “How is she?” Orlova asked, looking down as Salazar frantically worked, while Lostok stood with one of his aides, muttering low under his breath.

   “Bad. I want to get her to Alamo, right away.”

   “Do it,” she said.

   Glancing up at the other Neander, he said, “Maqua, go and warm up Thirty-Nine. Follow the steps just like I told you. I'll be along in a minute.”

   “Rhodes,” Cooper ordered, “Get a stretcher.”

   “Wait a minute,” Lostok said. “Maqua, return to Dome Three. I will be addressing the lower castes presently.”

   The Neander froze for a moment, before shaking his head and running across the field towards the shuttle, while Lostok shook his head.

   “I will have to see him punished for disobeying orders, I fear. Such defiance of his superiors cannot be tolerated. An example must be set.”

   Salazar, red with rage, looked up and him and said, “We're trying to save Aussketi's life, you heartless bastard. She took the bullet that was meant for you! Don't you care?”

   “Of course I do, but it is far more important that we secure our current location, and prevent atrocities such as this from happening again.” Turning to Orlova, he said, “I trust you are undamaged, Captain? I apologize profoundly for this, and vow that those responsible will be punished. I'll be happy to send you records of their execution. For the present, I will start implementing security measures. I will be sending whoever replaces your Sub-Lieutenant Salazar an updated boarding list.”

   Rhodes raced in with a stretcher, and Salazar gently placed Aussketi on it, the two of them carrying her over to the waiting shuttle. Cooper watched them go for a moment, silently willing Doctor Duquesne to do her usual magic, and walked over to join Orlova.

   “Sub-Lieutenant Salazar will not be replaced,” Orlova said.

   “I find him insolent.”

   Her eyes widening, she replied, “At this moment, Lostok, what you want is of spectacularly little importance to me. Pavel Salazar is the best-qualified person for this task, and you will deal with him in this matter.”

   “What do you mean, updated lists?” Cooper asked. “They're already been changed too often already.”

   “Perhaps you should confine yourself to the areas in which you are expert, Ensign, and consider the situation at Battle Pass. If the lowborn are working with the Xandari, this might be the first stage of an attack.”

   Frowning, Orlova said, “Answer his question.”

   With a sigh, Lostok said, “It is obvious that we will be unable to follow the planned schedule. The higher castes, those we trust, will have to have the greater priority now, rather than the children-first idea you suggested earlier. Until we can establish tight security on our ship, I cannot see that we can trust the lower castes on board.”

   Cooper looked at Orlova, who said, “I'm going to charitably assume that you are suffering from shock in the aftermath of the attack, Lostok.”

   “Just out of interest,” Cooper asked, “What happens if a Xandari task force arrives in the system before you have evacuated everyone?”

   “Then the few will have to be sacrificed to save the many.”

   “Including women and children, I presume,” he replied.

   Shaking his head, he said, “You don't understand us, Ensign. My people are used to this system. It is at the heart of our culture.”

   Far across the field, Shuttle Thirty-Nine launched, Salazar gunning the engines as hard as he dared, speeding up towards Alamo. Rhodes jogged back towards them, rifle in hand, his eyes darting around as though expecting a bullet from an invisible sniper at any moment.

   Cooper's datapad beeped, and he said, “Registered to Onerjo, three days ago.”

   Nodding, Lostok said, “A lowborn. Formerly in Sanitation. That's your man. I want him arrested at once.”

   Without a word, Cooper picked up his communicator, and said, “Corporal Walpis, come in please.”

   “Walpis here, sir. I was about to call you. Kelot's advance scout spotted some activity down on the base, vehicle movements. Not in our direction, but it's the first sign of life for two days.”

   “You see,” Lostok said. “I was right. This is the start of an uprising. Captain...”

   “How's Onerjo?”

   “Who?” Walpis said, then added, “Oh, I remember. He's about fifty feet in front of me, cleaning his rifle.”

   “Are you sure it's his?”

   There was a long pause before Walpis replied, “Apparently not, sir. I've just checked the serial number, and it's one that hasn't been issued yet. Is something wrong?”

   Ignoring the triumphant expression on Lostok's face, he said, “If I remember right, he was in the first party to the outpost, wasn't he? Has he left since?”

   “No, sir. What is this about?”

   “Nothing for the moment, Corporal. Keep an eye on him, but do nothing more. And tell Kelot I'll be up there in a couple of hours, and that he isn't to move until I get there
. Just in case he was thinking of some unauthorized recon.” Shutting down his communicator, he said, “At a guess, he never actually had the weapon. We're giving them out thirty at a time, then running them through the range. All it would take was a moment's inattention, and things are so damn chaotic down here that it wouldn't be hard to arrange a swap.”

   “I want him arrested at once.”

   “Lostok,” Cooper said, while Orlova looked on, “he wasn't here. He hasn't been here for days. Instead he's been freezing up there in the cold with the bulk of my men, watching the Xandari to make sure they don't swarm over that pass and attack you. What have you been doing?”

   “I don't have to take this from you,” he said, turning to Orlova. “This officer...”

   “Insolent,” she said. “Got it. I agree with Ensign Cooper. There's no evidence other than the presence of the weapon that this man was involved, and ample evidence that he isn't. Security is your problem, and I suppose I can't stop you doing something stupid, but I will tell you this, and I want you to listen long and loud. No one is leaving this system until every one of your people has been evacuated from this planet. If I have to fire on the freighter myself to ram that point home, I will.”

   Shaking his head, Lostok replied, “If all of your people are like you, then I do not think we will get along.” He stalked away, his aides following, Cooper and Orlova watching as he walked into the Admin Dome, leaving the empty field behind him.

   “We can't let him screw up the schedules, ma'am,” Cooper said.

   “I don't see how we can stop him, Ensign. Unless you are proposing that I declare martial law.”

   “We couldn't enforce it. Even if Kelot decided to work with us, rather than Lostok.”

   “He's not Highborn, is he?”

   “I don't think so.”

   “Interesting.” Rubbing her forehead, she added, “Heaven save us from allies, Ensign. I'm going to see if I can get the shuttle launches going again. Everything seems to be quiet enough now, and if we wait for a full check of the launch bays, we'll be here for a week. At this point, we're just going to have to trust to luck.”

   Nodding, Cooper replied, “I need to get back to Battle Pass, ma'am.” Glancing at the dome, he added, “I'd like permission to take a scouting party down onto the far plain.”

   “Why?”

   “There's always the chance he might be right, ma'am. If they wanted to destabilize the Neander, this wouldn't be a bad way to do it. It doesn't have to be a traitor to be the start of something big. And in all honesty, it wouldn't surprise me if there was at least one quisling among this group. Someone who thinks they've got it better here than they would at home. From what I've heard of their government, and Lostok's attitude, it wouldn't surprise me.”

   “Maybe. Can't you do the recon from orbit, or a shuttle?”

   “Orbit won't give us the detail we need, and a shuttle flies too low. Perfect for target practice if they've got any substantial weaponry cached there. Sometimes it takes boots on the ground to complete the mission, I'm afraid.”

   “How many?”

   “Four.”

   “And you're leading it yourself.”

   “I'm the best qualified to do it.” He smiled, then added, “And if our roles were reversed, you'd be insisting on taking the team in yourself.”

   “Hell, I'm tempted to do it anyway. I've still got to find some way to deal with that moron. A night wandering around enemy territory might he relaxing in comparison.” With a faint smile, she asked, “Fancy being Captain?”

   “Not on your life, ma'am. I have enough problems as it is.”

   “Figures. Well, ground operations are your province, Ensign, so I'll sign off on it. I'd recommend not asking anyone back here for permission, though, in case there is some sort of an intelligence leak. Keep the planning tight.”

   “That's what I had in mind.”

   “And be careful.”

   “Not 'Good Hunting', ma'am?”

   “To hell with that. Come back alive, Ensign. Too many people have died here already.”

   Nodding, he replied, “Rest assured, ma'am, I shall do everything I possibly can to obey that particular order. I'm not in any rush to meet my maker.” He looked down at his watch, and said, “We'll leave tonight, and try and get back by dawn.”

   “Report what you find directly to me,” she said. “Good luck.”

   He snapped a salute, replied, “Thank you, ma'am. I think you might need some as well.”

   “You might be right about that,” she said, returning the salute, before walking over towards the Admin Dome, communicator in hand.

   Turning to Rhodes, Cooper said, “Private, how's the hand?”

   “Fine, sir,” he replied, without thinking. “Though I might relapse at any moment.”

   “You'd better take some painkillers with you, then, before we leave.”

   With a smile on his face, Cooper walked over to the nearest buggy, and after a moment, Rhodes followed him, shaking his head.

  Chapter 15

   Daedalus' armory was a mass of floating spare parts, drifting free around the room, components obviously in some sort of order originally before blurring into each other as a sea of electronics, Sergeant Perry and his grand-daughter at the heart of it, leaning over one of the penetrometers, so engrossed in their work that they didn't notice when Harper pushed into the room. She watched them work for a moment, before quietly coughing to attract their attention.

   The Sergeant looked up, and said, “Sorry, ma'am. I guess...”

   “Don't worry about it. I was just coming to see how you were doing.”

   He slapped the rocket, making her wince, and replied, “Number Six is ready to go. We've just got to fit the new warhead.” Shaking his head, he said, “Not that they're going to do that much damage, I'm afraid. The best we can manage is a small shaped charge, and we'll be lucky to even penetrate the outer hull.”

   “You let me worry about that,” she said. “Even if we can only use them as decoys, it'll be worth the effort.” With a smile, she added, “Of course, I'm rather hoping that won't be necessary. I'll be satisfied if we can just fly out of this system unmolested.”

   “I'd better go and get the last one,” Perry's grand-daughter said. “Be back in a minute.”

   As she drifted out of the room, Harper said, “By the way, I'm sorry, but our mission profile means that it could be a long time before we get back to Mars. Maybe a year, at the outside.”

   “I serve at the pleasure of my superiors,” he said. “Honestly, this is already a dream come true for me. I'm back on my old ship, wearing a uniform again, even if it is the wrong one, and I'm going to get a chance to give a bit of payback to those bastards. I'm not exactly unhappy about it.” Looking through the open door, he added, “And my grand-daughter is here, anyway.” Shaking his head, he continued, “You know she used to build model rockets as well? Placed second in the Sub-Orbital Competition, back when she was in school.”

   “She's only been on board for a few months. I think she joined with the last batch of replacements at Yeager Station, just before we left.”

   His smile turned to a frown, and he replied, “I've missed her whole life. Eighteen years. More. Her father grew up without his old man around.” With a sigh, he said, “Two years in the War, and then stuck down on that freezing hell for three decades.”

   “That wasn't your fault.”

   He seemed to look past her as he continued, “When Mars rebelled after the Terraforming Crisis, after that first strike in orbit, I couldn't wait to sign up. I didn't have to, either. I was working as a shipyard technician, converting warships. My foreman tried to stop me, told me that I should stay with my family, that I was needed. I went behind his back, forced my way into the Fleet.”

   “You did what you thought was right.”

   “Or was I just hungry for glory, willin
g to pay any price, no matter how high.” Tugging out his datapad, he said, “My wife remarried, three years after I was declared dead. I'm glad of that, at least. Now they're both gone, eight years ago.” He stared into space, and said, “I hope she was happy. I hope they both were.”

   With a sigh, Harper replied, “Nothing you can do will change the past, Sergeant. You've still got fifty years left when we get home, plenty of time for you to start again. The Fleet protects its own. You'll be looked after.”

   “What fleet? The Martian Space Service is a reserve organization now.”

   “I'm sure Captain Orlova would be happy to arrange your transfer to the Triplanetary Fleet. It's come up a few times. We're always short of personnel.” She paused, then said, “Hell, if you're crazy enough to want to stay in, I'm sure they'll find you a job. Teaching, maybe, or at the shipyards at Mariner Station.”

   The planet was moving into view, and he looked down at it, a tear welling in his eye as he replied, “Do you want to know the worst thing of all? I actually miss that world down there, the cold beauty of the nights, the stars gleaming in the sky over the shimmering ice, the tall, dark mountains looming down, dark sentinels that watched over us. Even despite everything else, that was home. And I guess it always will be.”

   “You can't help that,” she replied. “Three decades, more than half of your life, you spend down there. Longer than you lived on Mars.” After a brief glance at the view-port, she added, “If you want to go down once more, I'm sure I can arrange for you to get a ride on one of the shuttles.”

   “No,” he said, resolutely. “That part of my life is done, and thank God for it. Besides, I've got work to do, right here. These missiles aren't going to put themselves back together, after all.” He frowned, then asked, “What about you? Where's your home? Back on Mars?”

   “I really don't know,” she replied. “Dad moved around so much when I was a kid that I never really thought of anywhere as home. A year on Mars, a year on Callisto, out at the Belt for a few months. Even eighteen horrible months on Triton.” Shaking her head, she said, “That was the bleakest place I've ever seen. No matter how high you turned up the heating, you were always cold. I'm not surprised it's never taken as a colony, not really. I couldn't imagine spending my life out there in the dark.” She paused, then replied, “I guess I don't have one. Except Alamo.”