Battlecruiser Alamo: Ghost Ship

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Battlecruiser Alamo: Ghost Ship Page 3

by Richard Tongue


   The door chimed, and he looked up to see Caine walking in, taking a seat opposite him as it closed. She looked up at the wall, at the empty spot where his father’s picture had once hung, then across at him.

   “Want to talk about it?”

   “Is this the time, Deadeye?”

   She smiled, then said, “A midshipman could have come up with the plan. Send six missiles to fly along side the shuttle under the pilot’s control to act as decoys, Alamo hovering overhead with a salvo ready just in case. Clear the road with a salvo flying ahead. I’m set up to do a test run whenever you want.”

   “Fast work.”

   “Low-grade opposition. So given that we have the rest of the watch, and that I probably should stop you from rewriting that report into total incomprehensibility, this seems like as good a time as any.”

   Returning her smile, he nodded, leaning back in his chair, and said, “Perhaps you are right at that. I think I’m more nervous about getting home than I was when I set off on this mission in the first place.”

   “You’ve got used to plotting your own path. I’ve never seen a vaguer set of sailing orders than the ones we received from the President. We certainly fulfilled his mandate for intelligence-gathering.”

   “And lost a lot of people doing it.”

   “Including your father.”

   Shaking his head, Marshall said, “It’s funny, but I don’t think that it has really sunk in. He’s been gone for so long, and I only had him back for a little while. It’s as though he was a ghost, not a real person. Coming back just long enough to say goodbye, then heading back wherever he came.”

   “And the circumstances of his death?”

   “He died a hero, saving his crew in hand-to-hand action. There are worse ways to go. As to what happened before it,” he paused, then said, “Maggie stopped him. That’s the important thing. As it is, I think everything can be quietly left to drop. Most of what happened out here will probably be classified anyway.”

   “If all of that is as you say, then why isn’t his picture on the wall?”

   “Maybe I’m not as certain of myself as I’m quite letting on.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “We’ve got a mission to finish, and we’re not home yet. There’s still another system after this one, remember.”

   She nodded, then said, “You want one last fling, don’t you. Before we get back. Tell me the truth, you’ve thought about taking that shuttle down yourself.”

   “I did, but even I’m not that stupid.” He glanced down at a readout on his desk, and said, “Orlova, Carpenter, Wilson, Forrest. I suppose that was predictable enough.”

   “Figures that Maggie would sign up for this.”

   He shrugged, and replied, “She’s probably the one I would have chosen anyway. And if you so much as mention ancient relics, you’d never keep Carpenter out of the game.”

   “True.” She sighed, then said, “This isn’t exactly the quiet ride home I was hoping for.”

   “I know.”

   “This crew’s been through a lot, Danny. They’re tired, they’re anxious to get home, and I can’t blame them. Thirty of them have been away for more than a decade, and I suspect can’t wait to get those uniforms off.”

   Smiling, Marshall said, “Don’t be so sure about that. I had a message from Frank Nelyubov on my queue this morning, requesting reassignment to deep space duties. There are half a dozen others listed in the roster.”

   “Hard to believe.”

   “Not really,” he replied. “For most of them the military is the only thing they’ve got left. After that long, how do you simply fit back into the world? Fourteen years…”

   “What about you?”

   “Me? I guess I’m destined for a desk job. My tour is up, and I somehow think I’m not going to get another.” He looked around the office, then said, “Someone else will be sitting here in a few months, while I’m warming a chair at headquarters.”

   “Looking forward to it?”

   He glared at her, replying, “I think you know me better than that. What about you?”

   “I signed up to this ride for two reasons. The first was to watch your back, and the second was to see strange new worlds. I can’t really complain. If they try and send me to a desk job, then I’ll be out the first chance I get.”

   “That’d be a pity.”

   “It’d be a bigger one if they bury you behind a desk.” She leaned forward, and said, “You’re coming home with enough weapons in your arsenal to push for another command, and get it. Even if it isn’t on Alamo.”

   “We go where we’re sent, Deadeye. Those are the rules of the game.”

   Shaking her head, she stood up, replying, “Only if you choose to follow them. I’d better go and turn my plan into a ten-page report for the files.” Smiling, she said, “Think about it. There’s always an angle.”

   “Still watching my back?”

   “Always.”

  Chapter 3

   Logan tapped the datastick on his desk, waiting for the rest of his senior staff to arrive. He glanced out of the viewport at the recently arrived Wyvern, holding at station keeping a few miles away. A small scoutship, a class recently brought into Triplanetary service, currently working her shakedown cruise on patrols back and forth from fleet installations.

   The door opened, and the confused face of Colonel Singh, the United Nations representative to the station, peered in, looking around. Hesitantly, he drifted through the door, taking a position by the wall.

   “Are you sure you want me here, Captain?”

   “Not in your official capacity, Colonel. I might need your advice.”

   He smiled, and said, “You are asking me not to report anything here to my superiors?”

   “Frankly, yes.”

   Nodding, he replied, “I wouldn’t worry about that, Captain. No-one reads my reports anyway. I’m in exile, and anything to break the monotony is a welcome relief.”

   Lieutenant-Captain John Cunningham, Wyvern’s recently-promoted commander, entered the room, nodding at the Colonel. He tossed a datapad gently across the room to Logan, who snatched it out of the air.

   “It definitely matches the ship we saw at Jefferson,” he said. “A Cabal ship, out here?”

   “Actually, it’s a Triplanetary ship,” Logan replied, and Singh reacted with a start.

   “One of your ships?”

   “Captured.”

   The remaining figures drifted into the room, Harper beaming as she looked around at the others, Ryder silently following her, surprise flashing on her face with the presence of Singh. Logan hit a control, and the door locked shut; unknown to everyone other than him, a jamming field activated around the room, blocking any potential eavesdroppers.

   “Let me stress that everything that is covered here today is to be considered Top Secret.”

   “Captain,” Singh began, but Logan raised a hand.

   “You are here for a reason, Colonel. I’m going to need your help.”

   Raising an eyebrow, he nodded, and said, “Anything I can do, Captain, as long as it will not adversely affect my government.”

   “I might ask you for a favor, Colonel, but I wouldn’t ask you to turn traitor.” He tapped a button, and a flickering holographic projection of the Dumont appeared over his desk. “All of you know that Alamo went out into Cabal space; it might have been secret at the time, but I’m certain that UN Intelligence is aware of it.”

   “And have been for some time,” Singh replied.

   “They were looking for Hercules,” Cunningham said. “We’d found evidence of their location, buried in a hidden signal. Are you trying to say…”

   “They found them,” Logan interrupted. “No question. The four people on that ship – the four corpses – were all crewmen of Hercules, and the place is littered with evidence that Hercules captured the Dumont. There are signs
of hand-to-hand fighting all over the place. Harper, your report.”

   She nodded, having been previously briefed to limit her words, and said, “We know that Dumont found a new way home; I’ve dug into her astrogation systems, and found a path that represents a shortcut to the Cabal. What we don’t know is whether the Cabal know about it. At her last stop, there was a battle, and the commander decided to gamble on making a jump to here, presumably to make sure we were aware of the new route.”

   “And paid for it with their lives,” Ryder added.

   “Someone hacked into the system and messed with their life support, deleting most of the files. They were able to protect their hendecaspace drive – which incidentally has been cobbled together out of bits and pieces, lots of them obviously not original to the ship – and get here, but that’s all they managed.”

   “There are four escape pods missing,” Logan said. “It seems likely that they managed to get the bulk of the crew out. Perhaps the plan was for all of them to go, and something went wrong. In any event, it gives us a rather serious problem.”

   Nodding, Cunningham said, “The Cabal could be operating in force within one jump of this system.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “Wyvern can’t stop them. No chance.”

   “There are no United Nations forces anywhere near,” Singh said. “I doubt any of them would come to help in any case.”

   “Actually, they might,” Logan said. “Which is why you are here. Ryder?”

   She looked across at Singh, and said, “Under Captain Winter’s orders, I did a search for all ships that could leave the system within twenty-four hours. The obvious choice is the James Buchanan, a fast transport – and a former United Nations Auxiliary.”

   “Wyvern…,” Cunningham began, but Logan interrupted him.

   “We need Wyvern to protect the station, or at least act as a tripwire – and rustle up a task force at the first opportunity. The Buchanan is the best choice. She even has armament – two missile tubes, once we get them reactivated. I’ve spoken to her Captain…”

   “And she is refusing to allow you to take her ship, without authorization from a senior United Nations officer,” Singh said. “At last, light dawns. I’m surprised you don’t simply requisition her, though. Surely you could compel her assistance.”

   “You might find this hard to believe, but even I don’t start international incidents at the drop of a hat. I’d like you to authorize this mission, Colonel. We need that ship, and if I’m going to defend this station, I’ve got to know if there is an enemy force building up. Hell, it might not even be the Cabal but someone else, and that could be a whole new level of danger.”

   “I quite understand, Captain. I will assent to the mission…”

   “Thank you,” Logan said.

   “...provided that I be permitted to accompany it. Purely in a personal capacity. I have served on ships of this sort in the past; I might be of value.”

   Cunningham looked across at Logan, and said, “We can’t have a UN envoy on a mission of this importance to Triplanetary security.”

   “I quite agree,” Singh said. “I will be acting simply on my own behalf.”

   “I don’t have much choice, do I?” Logan asked.

   “No.”

   “Then I agree. Would you go and make the arrangements? I want to leave the system in twelve hours, and we’ve got a lot of work to do if we’re going to make the ship ready.”

   “Very well. Thank you, Captain, for indulging the whims of an old man.” Singh nodded at the other officers, then stepped out of the room, Logan quietly releasing the lock for the seconds needed for his departure, then re-engaging the systems.

   “Now for the rest of it,” he said. “Dumont didn’t just come back to give us some stellar co-ordinates, they brought treasure with them.”

   Nodding, Harper said, “I’ve only been looking at this for a few hours, but we have a complete Cabal military database, along with encryption codes to access most of it. Peta bytes of information, all secured. Lieutenant Curry and her crew gave their lives to protect it.”

   “I don’t need to tell any of you how important this information is,” Logan said. “Evidently Alamo was able to accomplish its intelligence-gathering mission in ways we couldn’t even have dreamed possible. The biggest intelligence coup in the history of the Confederation.”

   “Alamo?”

   Harper looked across at Cunningham, and said, “I’ve found reports from Lieutenant-Captain Marshall, Lieutenant Caine, Sub-Lieutenants Orlova and Tyler, all preliminary assessments of the material. There’s a lot from Orlova, far more than the others.”

   “She was Security Officer,” Cunningham said, “so that makes sense.”

   “The material is about six months old, but obviously still extremely valuable,” Logan said. “Which means that the top priority is getting Dumont to safety. Wyvern can carry a duplicate of the database back to Mariner, with instructions from me to immediately dispatch a task force to protect the station.” He raised a datapad, and said, “My recommendation is that the passage to the Cabal be immediately secured by fleet forces.”

   “Commodore Tramiel’s been gathering a force together for months now, keeping a lot of the big ships home,” Cunningham said. “With a little luck, they’ll be a battle group in position in three weeks. I’ll add my own recommendations to the list.”

   With a thin smile, Logan said, “Meaning you have no intention of going back.”

   Shaking his head, he replied, “You’ll need a crew for the Buchanan. And a commander. No offense, but you’ve never handled a ship in battle. I’ll hand-pick some people Wyvern can spare.”

   Looking across, Ryder said, “Captain, I’m qualified to command the transport. We can handle it with Spitfire personnel; surely getting the information back to Mariner Station has to be the top priority at the moment.”

   “It’s a milk run, Lieutenant, despite the importance of the mission. Lieutenant West is perfectly capable of commanding the run. Besides, if Logan’s going, you’ll have to command the station in his absence.”

   “Lieutenant West…”

   A smile growing across his face, Logan said, “Let’s be honest, both of you want to go, and neither is willing to concede it.”

   Cunningham looked at him, and said, “You know I’m right.”

   “I know that you both need to go, and I don’t see any reason to stop you. We’re heading out in a half-upgraded auxiliary, and I’m going to need the best crew I can get. West can command Wyvern on the flight back, and Spender can command the station in our mutual absence. Things are quiet enough here at the moment, and the place will be swarming with star-strewn officers soon anyway.”

   With a smile, Cunningham looked across at Ryder, and said, “That’s fine with me.”

   “I’m going,” she replied. “That’s all that interests me at the moment.”

   Harper looked up, and said, “I’m going too.”

   “Is that an order, Spaceman?” Logan asked, grinning. “I never doubted it.”

   Looking around, she said, “Are we going to talk about the body now?”

   Nodding, Logan said, “The best we can determine is that we have a Neanderthal Man, long-extinct on Earth, that was alive and a member of the crew of the Dumont less than a week ago.” Raising a hand, he said, “I have no more idea how the hell that came about than the rest of you did, but it is an established fact. The body's been put into cold freeze to preserve it; I've given instructions that it isn't to be touched.”

   Ryder replied, “That's not going to be popular.”

   “All we need is to dismember the corpse of the Ambassador to the Grand Star Empire of the Cavemen, Lieutenant. I told you, I don't like starting diplomatic incidents. The, er, crate has been labeled top secret for the moment, until we get some idea what the hell is going on.”

   While he was talking, he could hear the
lock making some complaining noises, and with a smile on his face, he released the mechanism with the touch of a button. The door slid open, and Sub-Lieutenant Melissa Chambers, his Political Officer, stood at the threshold, a datapad in her hand. She looked around the room, a frown stamped on her face, then at Logan.

   “What is going on here?” she demanded.

   “I think it is time for me to brief my Political Officer, ladies and gentlemen. We’ve got a lot of work to do before we move out, so we’d better get on with it. I’ll be over on the Buchanan in an hour.”

   “I’ll start with the crew transfers, and get Spender up to speed,” Ryder said, pausing at the door. “And thank you, Captain.”

   Looking at the three of them, he said, “I know how important this is to all of you. I want to find out what happened as well. With luck, we’ll have the answers we’ve been looking for.”

   The three of them left the room, Chambers hanging in the air. Logan jabbed the button again, and smiled when he found it wasn’t working; he wouldn’t be needing his special systems for much longer in any case.

   “I thought we had an understanding…,” Chambers began, but Logan interrupted her.

   “We do, and right now, we’re talking escalating levels of briefing. Singh got one piece of it, the rest got another, and you’re getting the rest. How much of that did you hear?”

   “Most of it.”

   “I’ll give you a transcript later. I have a special mission for you, and I don’t think you are going to like it. Aside from Harper, though, you’re the only one who can do it.”

   “And that is?”

   Logan reached under his desk, and pulled out a slender metal briefcase, looking like one of a dozen that could be brought anywhere on the station.

   “We’ve made a breakthrough that has to be exploited, and we both know that the Admiralty is getting over-stocked with bureaucratic empire-builders at the moment. When the Wyvern gets back, I don’t trust the boys at Mariner Station to pass this on properly.”

 

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