by Andrew Beery
“I can understand the pirates and the General Hull ships duking it out but why in the world are civilians from the planet’s Qua’tee province involved?” Commander Ben asked.
Lieutenant Colson coughed lightly for attention.
“We’re in open discussion Lieutenant,” Ken said by way of encouragement. “Do you have something to add?”
“Sir, yes sir. The Qua’tee province is located on the Ciru shadow terminus on the planet’s surface.”
Ben raised an eyebrow.
Seeing that the others did not yet understand the young lieutenant attempted to explain. “It’s an area of the planet that includes the boundary between sun light and the permanent lunar shadow. It’s very heavily populated… especially near the numerous lakes.”
“And this is important because…” Ben prompted.
“Sir, that area of the planet has been decimated by kinetic energy weapons. Somebody has been dropping rocks on them from space.”
Chapter 12: The Battle for Ciru…
Cat sat forward in her seat. “Mr. Colson, do a full sensor sweep. Are there more kinetic energy weapons inbound?”
“Affirmative Admiral. Four more sizeable rocks have been de-orbited and have impact zones in or around the terminus.”
“Can you tell who’s launching them?” Ken asked.
“Sir, it would seem that orbit stabilization thrusters have been mounted directly on asteroids. General Hull Dynamics uses this method to bring raw materials into their orbital defense stations. If I had to guess, I’d say GHD is repurposing them as weapons.”
Ken swiveled in his command chair to face his weapons officer. “Chief Wroblewski. How long to get a lock on those four bogeys?”
“Already done sir, just give the word.”
“Good man Chief. The word is given. Knock those rocks out of orbit.”
“Aye aye Captain. Firing rail guns two and four, six and eight... Three seconds to impact… impact!”
The chief checked his board for a few seconds. “Three bogeys have disintegrated, the fourth has been pushed into an elliptical orbit that will stabilize over time.”
“Captain!” Colson interrupted. “I have a Defiant-class destroyer de-cloaking four hundred kilometers off the port bow. They are launching fighters.”
Ken punched his comm button on his chair. “CAG! Launch fighters! Get our birds in the air.”
“Birds launching!” Commander Martinescu answered from the CIC. “Two wings are in the tubes. Two more wings will be in the air in three minutes.”
Ken hit the comm-link again. “CAG have them form a defensive perimeter a hundred and fifty clicks out. Intercept any fighter attempting to breach that boundary. Kirkland out.”
“Acknowledged Captain,” Commander Martinescu responded crisply.
“Ziggy, try to raise that ship. Who the hell are they?”
Ben spoke up from his First Officers station. Their ident-code lists them as the GCP Levy assigned to the Bureau of Commerce Investigation.”
“What the heck does the BCI need with a ship like that and what are they doing here?”
“Sir,” Ziggy said. “They are responding to our hail.”
“Put them on screen,” Ken answered.
A middle-aged woman appeared on the holographic display in the center of the bridge. She wore a uniform Cat didn’t recognize but the rank insignia was that of Commodore.
“Greeting Captain Kirkland and Admiral Kimbridge. It is an honor to meet you at long last. I’m Commodore Slone. Please be advised the Levy is operating under the direct authority of the Senate. Your actions have hampered an ongoing operation.”
“’Hampered an ongoing operation?’” Cat spit out. “Are you mad? Commodore, your actions have put countless Coalition lives at risk. Mr. Colson, how many people live in the area of devastation?”
“The last planetary census puts the number between one hundred and ten to one hundred and fifty million sentients,” the young officer answered.
“And how many have been killed by the bombardment?”
“Impossible to say Admiral, certainly something approaching one hundred thousand or beyond.”
Cat turned back towards the viewscreen. She was livid. “Commodore, you are to cease and desist all operations until I have this sorted out. Is that understood?”
“I’m afraid I cannot do that Admiral. My authority to conduct these operations comes directly from the Grand Senate and they specifically empowered me to ignore your orders should I find them in conflict with their directives.”
“And just what are their directives?”
The holographic image shuffled slightly on her bridge. “Mardarus III is to become an example. I am to sterilize the heart of the rebel faction and you are to sterilize their lunar outpost. Neither order is subject to debate or interpretation.” Commodore Slone looked over at Cat.
“Commodore, surely you recognize that is an illegal order. The Keenan mandate states ‘the justification for acts done pursuant to orders does not exist if the order was of such a nature that a person of ordinary sense and understanding would know it to be illegal.’"
Commodore Slone smiled wanly. “Surely the Admiral is aware that the Grand Senate waved the Keenan mandate a number of years ago during the Hupenstanii interdiction. I’m afraid there is no legal basis for you to refuse your orders.”
Cat stood absolutely still for several seconds. The sound of breathing was the only sound on the bridge of the GCP Yorktown. Finally she spoke. Her words were soft and held a barely constrained fury.
“Commodore, your orders empower you to ignore mine when they are in conflict with your directives. Do they empower you to ignore them when they do not?”
Commodore Slone looked truly concerned for the first time in their conversation. “No Admiral, they do not.”
“Very good. You are to cease and desist all operations for one hour while I consult with the Grand Senate. Do you accept this order?”
The Commodore nodded, “Yes Admiral, I accept your order.”
“Very good. Order your ships to disengage both the pirate vessels and the civilian fighters. Your ships are considerably faster. They are to leave the area of conflict until they are called back.”
“Understood Admiral,” Commodore Slone acknowledged. “What about our ships that are damaged and cannot make an orderly retreat?”
“Ziggy, Open a broad channel comm-link to all ships in theater.”
“Channel open Admiral, with such a diverse group, it’s anybody’s guess as to whether or not they can or will receive it.”
“Attention all combatants. This is Admiral Cat Kimbridge. A temporary truce is ordered for the next sixty standard minutes. Cease all hostilities. Failure to comply by any ship will be dealt with using extreme prejudice. You have one minute to comply. Kimbridge out.”
Cat looked at Chief Wroblewski. “Chief, if any ship continues hostilities after the deadline you are to hit them with a warning shot from our forward laser battery. If in your estimation they still are not complying you are to take them out using weapons at full strength. And Chief,” Cat said while turning back towards the holographic image of Commodore Slone, “I don’t care whose side they are on… my order stands.”
“Aye Admiral,” was all the burly older man said as he watched his weapons console.
Cat caught Ziggy’s eye and made a slashing motion. The communications officer immediately cut the communication link with The GCP Levy.
Ken stood up and walked towards Cat. “Ben, you have the bridge. Admiral, I think the CAG is waiting for us in the CIC.”
***
Admiral Sherry Melbourne sat in a replica of her favorite reading chair in her suite on the Brown Recluse. She sighed deeply. Her friend, Cat, had just updated her about the situation in the Mardarus system. She knew in her soul of souls that Cat would soon be forced to make a decision that both of them dreaded.
The fully renovated pirate ship the AM Brown Recluse left the shipyard dock
a few hours ago. Captain Bedmore had replaced more than just the bulk of the ship’s hardware. Most of the crew had been replaced with personnel that were part of Melbourne’s covert organization. They still operated under the guise of a pirate vessel and thus it seemed Ricky Valen would retain his Harry Bedmore persona for the foreseeable future.
Their course was jump point T3 which was also called the Terminator by the locals. It opened up near a white dwarf in orbit around a supermassive black hole. It took a sharp crew and a powerful ship to survive a jump through the Terminator. For this reason it was the perfect route to take for a sufficiently motivated group looking to hide a high value package.
The balance of the Yorktown taskforce, which Admiral Kimbridge had placed under Sherry’s command, were in route to the Hupenstanii blockage. Their orders were to approach the blockage in stealth mode and to await further orders.
A soft buzzing sound indicated a visitor was at her door. Sherry checked her personal AI and saw that it was Honey. She signaled her AI to open the door. At the same time she got up from her chair and walked over to meet her guest.
Honey was smiling as was normal for her. “Good morning Admiral!”
Sherry sighed again. Honey had always called her by her given name ‘Sherry’ until that fateful day years ago when Sherry had accepted the promotion to Admiral. Honey had been at the pinning ceremony and had promised that from that day forward she would address her as ‘Admiral’. Sherry had assumed it was a joke but apparently the Heshe enhanced AI had been serious.
“You know I could order you to call me ‘Sherry’.”
“Yes, Admiral, you could.”
She looked at her friend who had a mischievous grin on her face. “You wouldn’t obey such an order would you?”
“Not a chance,” Honey agreed with a wink.
“Are you ever going to call me by my given name again?”
Honey laughed. “Admiral, if I do you will know something is wrong!”
Sherry offered her friend a cup of coffee which she accepted. Honey took a careful sip and then said, “Harry had me plot a least time intercept for the cargo ship with Bud onboard. We should be able to retrieve him four hours after we exit T3.”
Sherry nodded. She knew this already. Why was Honey here? “This isn’t what you’ve come to talk about is it?”
Honey took another sip of coffee and whispered a soft “No. What are we going to do once we have and revive the Admiral?”
Sherry put her cup down and walked over to her small window. The absolute black of space was mesmerizing. “A lot might depend on what the Admiral tells us transpired between him and the Grand Senate.” She turned and looked at her friend. “I imagine we will start, or at very least, escalate a war.”
***
Cat inspected the primary holographic display floating above the table in the CIC. The Grand Senate had refused her request for a conference; instead they simply reminded her that she had her orders and was expected to obey them.
The disposition of forces floating in the display was roughly equal if one discounted the fact that the Yorktown was supposed to be on the same side as the GCP Levy. Cat’s internal clock showed her that they had less than twenty minutes before she and the Yorktown had to make their intentions known.
The cease-fire had gone off with only a few hiccups. One of the GHD ships had taken a potshot at a departing pirate vessel. The shot had caused minimal damage but Chief Wroblewski’s response was admirable. The GHD ship found itself the sole attention of a war-tested Yorktown-class battlecruiser. Its entire array of external sensors were carefully burned away. The offending ship was effectively blind and deaf. The captain of the ship had been forced to station a crew member on his hull in a flimsy EVA suit with a pair of binoculars and a hand radio. Needless to say, Cat had been able to remove that ship from the confrontation formula she had been assessing.
What didn’t make sense was the role the pirates were playing in this conflict. Sherry had been absolutely convinced that the BCI and the pirates based out of Talus IV were in cahoots. The computer worms that they had managed to place within both organizations were starting to yield data that seemed to confirm this assessment. It wasn’t enough to take to the Grand Senate yet but it was a start.
Unfortunately, that data was at odds with what Cat was seeing in the current conflict. The pirates were actively helping the insurgents against the BCI and by extension the megacorporation General Hull Dynamics. On top of this, nothing that was happening in space explained why the Grand Senate was hell-bent on decimating two complete population centers in the Mardarian system.
The answers to her questions came from an unexpected source.
Chapter 13: Insurgency…
Captain Jason McCarthy watched from the bridge of his small sublight shuttle as the massive form of the GCP Yorktown slowly enveloped his entire viewport. He could not help but be impressed. From the time he was a little boy on his father’s farm in the Qua’tee province, he had dreamed of seeing and setting foot in this famous ship. He had dreamed of meeting and serving with Admiral Kimbridge. In his dreams, she was a seven foot Amazon princess with muscles of steel and a gaze that could melt tungsten. He was about to meet her in person. He knew she was as human as he was –the rumors of superhuman Heshe enhancements not withstanding—but nevertheless he felt his palms begin to sweat. This was Catherine Kimbridge he was about to meet.
He only wished the circumstances of their meeting could have been different. If he could not convince her to see things his way he would be forced to attempt to destroy her and this magnificent ship. Looking at the hull plating which was bristling with hyperfield nodes across every few inches, he knew the best his little ship would be able to do would be to get noticed… and even that was unlikely. He had to convince her to do the right thing.
The tractor beam that had secured his small craft slowly moved him towards a forward shuttle bay. He looked about his bridge. It seemed larger than he was used to seeing it. Perhaps that was because it was empty save for himself. For this trip he had sent his crew to other ships. His wife and co-pilot had objected but he could not risk her on such a mission. He was about to beard the lion in his den. That was no place for one’s wife.
***
Cat watched the small shuttle land in the main shuttle bay. The captain claimed to have started the conflict. He also claimed to have information crucial to its resolution. Information he would disclose to her alone. Cat had ordered the CAG to provide an escort from Ciru to the Yorktown. The small craft had be thoroughly scanned and seemed to pose only a limited threat to the Yorktown. Nevertheless, Cat had the captain power down his engines. The Yorktown’s stevedores pulled the ship in with their tractor beams.
A small group of marines approached the shuttle. Cat noticed that her aid, Staff Sergeant Stone had the marines dressed in Mark VI Stark suits. The newest mobile armor could shrug off a hit by a tank and still keep going. It seemed a little overkill but she expected the real goal of the armor was to dissuade any thoughts of challenging the marines. She suspected it would work.
The side hatch and a middle aged man of perhaps sixty appeared in the door way. As the shuttles ramp extended he made his way down it and waited for the marines to arrive. If he was intimidated by their armor he hid it well. The man beamed confidence and competence. Cat liked him instinctively.
Cat walked forward and shook the man’s outstretched hand. “Greetings. I’m Admiral Catherine Kimbridge. Welcome to the Yorktown.”
Captain McCarthy fought hard to keep from smiling like a school boy meeting his first grade teacher. He was sure he failed horribly. “My kids are going to be so impressed with me. They own every episode of the syndicated Catherine Kimbridge Chronicles TV series… both the old version and the remake.”
The look on Cat’s face must have clued him into the fact that she was unaware of being the subject of a TV series.
Staff Sergeant Stone coughed politely and Cat nodded.
“I d
on’t mean to be blunt Captain,” Cat said, “but we are fighting the clock here. If you’ll follow me we will retire to a conference room for a brief chat. I’ve asked a couple of other gentlemen to meet us there as their duties permit.”
Ken Kirkland and Ben were talking in a corner of the room when Cat walked with Captain McCarthy into the Yorktown’s Ready room.
Both men stepped forward immediately and shook the other man’s hand.
“It’s a fine ship you have here, Captain,” McCarthy began.
Ken nodded in acknowledgement of the compliment. “If you’ll forgive me, Sir. We have barely ten minutes before the ceasefire ends. If you have information we need to hear, now is the time to share it.”
“Quite right. Quite right,” the older man agreed. “I am part of what the Coalition refers to as a pirate faction within GCP space. While I acknowledge there are pirates operating within this sector; that is not a term my people would use for ourselves.”
Cat invited the group to sit at the conference table. “Go on Captain, how would you describe yourselves?”
“Admiral, we are a people forced into an impossible choice. My family has run a profitable farming concern on Mardarus III for ten generations. My family was part of the original settlers welcomed by the Mardarians.”
McCarthy looked out the viewport window at the planet orbiting below. It was beautiful.
“Several decades back, General Hull made a discovery that doomed this planet. They discovered massive amounts of easily recoverable Tritium on the various moons orbiting the planet. The company petitioned the local government for exclusive mining rights. In exchange they would provide both technological and health care assistance for the indigenous population as well as the growing pool of Coalition settlers.
“What no one counted on was the endless series of minor concessions the corporation would require. Once you have a population conditioned to a certain standard of comfort and health care it becomes easy to use that as leverage to enact a progressive set of changes that ultimately lead to the wholesale surrendering of your freedom.”
