“Draw?”
“Didn’t you ever watch any Westerns when you were a kid?” Glancing up at a monitor, she said, “Docking in ninety seconds.”
All around the shuttle, missiles were fighting silent duels to the death, wiping each other out in flashing pyrotechnic displays, and up ahead, the slender form of Alamo was waiting, slowly curving its trajectory in order to come into position between the two fleets. The docking computer, unaware of all that had taken place in the last few moments, silently guided the shuttle into the cradle, and with a jerk, the elevator airlock began to draw them home.
A series of green lights ran across the heads-up display as Orlova undid her straps, heading back into the passenger compartment, where a resentful Tolxac sat, glaring at her.
“If you would come with me, please? Captain Marshall requests your presence on the bridge.”
“Do I have a choice?” he asked, sullenly.
“Everyone has a choice. If you make the wrong one, you’ll be picking mass suicide for you and your people. I’d suggest you come with me.”
Chapter 23
The elevator doors slid open, and Marshall watched Orlova step out onto the bridge, followed by a reluctant Tolxac; Forrest stepped out last, and stood at parade rest by the door, a rifle nestled in his hands. Normally, he would be reluctant to allow any firearms up on the command deck, but with two warring factions meeting up there, he couldn’t take any chances.
As soon as the man’s eyes saw the figure of Kolzak in the corner, struggling to stand in the gravity, his face reddened and he took two steps towards her, before rounding on Marshall with a snarl.
“What in the Seven Hells is she doing here?”
“I wanted you both around to hear this,” Logan said. “Weitzman, put me through to both fleets, please. And the planet. I want everyone with a transmitter to hear what I am saying loud and clear.”
“Aye, sir,” the communications technician replied. “You’re on, Captain.”
“This is Lieutenant-Captain Daniel Marshall. As commander of the most powerful force in this system, I am imposing a ceasefire on both parties in this pointless war. Any attempt to launch missiles or deploy any weapons systems will be met with deadly force.”
Tolxac stared at him, and said, “You cannot be serious.”
“I am totally serious. I’m bringing this war to an end, before anyone else is killed.”
“We’re fighting to defend our planet. You, on the other hand, are dealing with anti-government insurgent forces, launching commando raids against us, and…”
“While you and your people were directly responsible for the deaths of everyone on the Dumont. We know the whole story now. Including your attempts to steal our technology.”
“We’re at war, Captain, and we’re fighting to win. That is all the excuse we need. We were attacked, and are only attempting to defend ourselves against genocide.”
“Liar!” the green-skinned woman in the corner shouted. “We came in peace to the world our ancestors had claimed, and only wanted to share it with you. It was your forces that attacked us without warning, slaughtering women and children.”
“We fought off invaders,” Tolxac said. “And we will fight to the last to defend ourselves from any aggression, wherever it comes from. Whether aliens or your Triplanetary Confederation, Captain, you will find us worthy adversaries.”
Marshall stood up and strode towards Tolxac, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him to face his erstwhile captive.
“She is not a damned alien!” he yelled. “She’s as human as you are, as I am. For God’s sake, you came from the same homeworld. You’re the same people. All of this was for nothing!”
“It is a great joke,” the woman said. “The genetic evidence is conclusive, though, and I accept and believe it. We have been fighting ourselves, all these centuries.”
“We live on Haven, and we are obliged to defend it,” Tolxac said, but his voice was weakening. “Everything we have done is in the best interests of our people.”
“Including keeping them in drug-induced stupor? How does that help?” Orlova said.
“Better drugged than dead,” Tolxac replied.
“Energy spike!” Spinelli said from the sensor station. “One missile, launched by Haven frigate, bearing directly.”
“Deadeye, get rid of it,” Marshall said.
Caine turned to her station, typed in a series of commands, and the helmsman slowly pivoted to ship to line up a sighting shot. A brief laser pulse obliterated the missile from the sky, leaving nothing but a cloud of expanding debris.
“Target eliminated, laser recharging now,” she said.
“Marshall to both fleets. Any further attacks will be met in the same way.”
“We’re being hailed, sir. The Seeker fleet. In English, Captain,” Weitzman reported.
An image appeared on the screen, a taller man with a gray cast to his skin, otherwise identical to the woman at the rear of the bridge. He looked across at her, locking eyes for a second before turning his attention on Marshall.
“We have received the information you have sent us, and accept the truth of the data. As a result, we are willing to discuss terms for a ceasefire that would bring about an end to the war.”
“Under what terms?” Marshall asked
“The Seekers will retain space superiority, as well as being granted permission to settle on the surface in colonies of our own. We are willing to agree to terms that will see us granted colonization rights in lands untouched by the Thieves.” With a gleaming smile, he added, “If these terms are agreed, we will return your people to you, and request admission to your Triplanetary Confederation.”
Cunningham whistled, and said, “That’s one hell of an offer, Danny.”
“We will never cede space superiority to the Enemy!” Tolxac said. “We would rather die fighting!”
“I am asking for nothing we do not already possess,” the figure on the screen replied. “If you cede control of orbital space to us, all it will spare is the lives of crewmen on both sides. We will win the battle that is to come, and you know it.”
“You are asking my people to settle for reservations on our own planet! I cannot do that, and I will not do that.”
“Energy spike, sir. From four of the Seeker ships.”
Marshall said, “What is this?”
“Our first salvo is in the air, but will remain at station-keeping for the present. I simply do not wish to cede an advantage should the worst happen, Captain.”
Weitzman nodded, and said, “They’re holding position four and a half kilometers from their ships, sir. I now have another five energy spikes from Seeker vessels, all following the same pattern. Right now, they’re just sitting there.”
Turning to Marshall, Tolxac said, “We have two of your people on the surface, Captain. I will release them, all charges dropped, if you side with us against the Enemy.”
Laughing, Kolzak said, “We have seven of his. Any game of hostages is going to reflect poorly on you. Nor do we threaten to execute them if we do not get what we want.”
“Then our own terms, Captain, as agreed by the Council. We retain control of orbital space, and the...Seekers...can keep control of the other bodies of the system. I am authorized to relinquish all of our rights to those.”
“Meaningless!” the man on the screen barked. “You will soon have the secrets of the faster-than-light drive. You would trade a collection of barren rocks for the paradise you have stolen from us?”
“Energy spikes from the Haven vessels, sir, twelve of them. They’re matching the configurations of the Seekers vessels, just moving into station-keeping.”
Caine looked at Marshall, and he looked back, trying to seem impassive. There were enough missiles in the air now that Alamo would be hard-pressed to knock them down; at any second this could col
lapse into a shooting war.
Tolxac walked across to Marshall, and said, “You have yet to respond to my offer.”
Shaking his head, he replied, “This isn’t for me to decide. The two of you have got to come to some sort of terms, and something that you can both live with.”
The man on the screen said, “I believe we have made a generous offer. We are offering to share the world that is ours by right.”
“What are these rights?” Cunningham asked. “Thousands of years ago, your mutual ancestors found this planet, sent out probes to explore it, and both of your ships set out to settle it. One beat the other, but both were feats that are the stuff legends are made of. Can’t you be proud of what your ancestors did, and try to honor them?” Gesturing at the screen, he replied, “This honors no-one.”
“The Council will not yield.” Tolxac looked at his watch, and said, “I do not believe that you will sit by and watch genocide take place, Captain Marshall. Our attack will begin in six of your minutes.” He walked over to the back of the bridge, arms folded, as though daring someone to challenge him.
“Then we must have war,” the figure on the screen replied. “Perhaps it is our destiny to wipe each other out. My fleet will not fire first, but we will end this war, once and for all. Captain, I see no reason for your ship to be a part of what must be. I offer you safe conduct to the point of gravitational stability, and will dispatch your people to that location.”
Looking up, Marshall said, “Thank you for your offer, but Tolxac is quite correct. I’m not going to sit back and watch millions of people be killed, not when there is something I can do about it. Deadeye, do we still have that target lock?”
She looked up at him, and said, “We do, sir.”
“And the location of Captain Winter and Colonel Singh?”
“Unknown.”
Taking a deep breath, Marshall said, “Execute surface bombardment.”
“What!” Tolxac said. “You would destroy our cities to save yourselves? What sort of barbarians are you?”
Alamo rocked as a specially-adapted missile leapt from its tubes, curving down towards the planet. Immediately, the tactical board lit up as Haven’s deployed missiles turned to try and catch it, to intercept it before it reached the atmosphere, and Caine started to work, setting up firing solutions for the laser cannon to guide it home.
“Standing by on salvo, Danny.”
“Fire at your discretion,” Marshall replied, turning to Tolxac, who was being handed a headset. “You have a channel to Guardian Station. In five minutes, you must have your drug manufacturing plant evacuated.”
“I have Captain Winter, sir,” Weitzman said.
The laconic voice of the intelligence agent immediately came over the loudspeakers, saying, “I presume you’ve just launched the missile. Everyone down here is panicking.”
“Are you on site?”
“We’re on the perimeter. Toss of a coin, but I knew that going in. Worry about that ship of yours up there.” There was a pause, and he said, “I’m supposed to tell you that if you don’t abort the missile, we will be killed. Don't let that stop you, though.”
The line was cut, and Marshall turned to Tolxac, saying, “I would suggest that you recommend a strategy that doesn’t involve taking hostages.” He pointed at the display, and continued, “I assure you that no power in this system will stop that missile hitting home.”
“Energy spikes! Everywhere!” Spinelli said. “Haven forces launching. At us. I’m getting forty, no, forty-three incoming missile tracks.”
“My government may only have a little life in it, Captain, but we are able to wreck havoc on you before we go down.”
“You’re wide open to the Seekers,” Cunningham said.
“Seeker forces are moving in, sir,” Spinelli said. “All on attack vectors.”
“Damn it,” Marshall replied. “Bradley, get onto random walk. Orlova, see if Harper has made any progress with a new countermeasures package. Deadeye, do what you have to do to keep anything off us, but prioritize that missile hitting home.”
“Aye, sir,” Caine said, working her console as Bradley began to send the ship flying on series of rapidly changing courses, trying to cause as much trouble as possible to the enemy ships. Marshall looked at the tactical display, watching the ships move in; Haven’s vessels were swinging down to the attack, the Seeker ships moving in underneath them. The final battle had begun, despite everything he had hoped for, and his crew was caught right in the middle of it.
“Energy spikes across the Seeker fleet, sir.” Shaking his head, Spinelli said, “We now have ninety-seven missiles in the air, including our own. Even for us I think that’s a record. First missiles will impact in one hundred and forty-one seconds.”
Leaning down beside him, Cunningham said, “I hate to suggest this, but it might be time to think about getting to the escape pods. Unless you’ve got lax lately, we could get the crew off in ninety seconds.”
Looking up, Marshall said, “That gives us fifty seconds for a miracle.”
“I think they’re in short supply at the moment.”
“Seeker ships are still closing, sir. Projections show them heading full-on for Haven’s fleet. Their vessels are continuing on course for us,” Spinelli said. “We’re up to a hundred and two missiles now.”
“Concentrate on getting that missile through their defenses, Deadeye,” Marshall replied, an air of resignation in his voice. “We might as well make sure that our parting shot hits home.”
“It isn’t too late, Captain,” Tolxac said. “Pull back your missile, and we can get back to fighting our real enemy.” Looking at the display, he said, “My forces still have the ability to turn the tide of this battle.”
“Your forces? What about the Council?” Cunningham said.
“I speak for them. They will settle for nothing less than victory. Such has been made clear many times in the past. I do not intend to betray my people.”
“You aren’t betraying them, you are saving them!” Marshall said.
“Captain!” Spinelli said. “The Seeker missiles, they are curving towards the enemy warheads. We’re getting course changes again, and I think they are pulling into formation with us.” He looked up at Marshall, a smile spreading across his face, and said, “They’re taking the hits for us.”
“Get the Seeker commander back again, Weitzman,” Marshall yelled, as Tolxac turned pale.
“You have allied with our Enemy,” he said.
The gray figure appeared again, turning off-screen for a moment before saying, “Our terms still say the same. Our opponents have proven they cannot be trusted, but so be it. We have a new proposal. Both of us will link with treaty to the Triplanetary Confederation. That way a third power will dominate the skies, until we can learn to live together.” He smiled, and said, “I am willing to take a chance for peace.”
Turning to Tolxac, Marshall said, “Your Council is going to cease to be a factor in this decision in a matter of moments. You need to decide what is best for your people, both on the planet and in space. Do you really want them to die for a doomed cause?”
“What did you do, in your Interplanetary War?” he replied. “Didn’t you fight and die to the last man, to try to save your people from tyranny?”
“That’s exactly the point,” Cunningham said. “To free our people, not to ensure their continuing enslavement. What the hell are you fighting for, Tolxac? The right to continue the war? To see your people wiped out?”
“We will win in a battle,” the figure on the screen said. “We are willing to demonstrate mercy to our lost ancestors. My people will resent it, but in time, they will understand it.”
Spinelli said, “Three of the Haven ships are turning away, Captain. I think they’re heading for low orbit, out of the combat area.”
“Even your own commanders have
decided it is time to end this war,” Marshall said.
“The Council…”
“Missile is in atmosphere,” Caine said. “Terminal trajectory, impact in two minutes and ten seconds. Perfect entry profile.”
“You’ve got to make the decision, Tolxac. Make it a good one.”
A tear welled up in the man’s eye as he adjusted the headset, then said, “I will require you to guarantee the safety of my fleet.” Looking down, he said, “I know you won’t save my people on the surface.”
“We’ll give that guarantee,” Marshall said.
The man on the screen said, “I swear by my Holy Ancestors that I will not attack your people, unless you fire on us first.”
Tolxac started to speak into his microphone, and all at once more than half the missiles disappeared, the remainder lingering for a few seconds as if wondering where their counterparts had gone, before themselves vanishing. All that remained was a single, curving track, heading down towards the planet.
“All missiles gone, sir,” Caine said.
“Shuttle on its way from one of the Seeker ships, Captain,” Spinelli said.
“The Dumont crewmen,” Kolzak said. “They will be on board in moments.”
Marshall hardly heard her, looking out at the planet below. The war was over, but down on the surface, the last battle had yet to be fought.
Chapter 24
The guards in the bunker had rapidly switched from being hostile to rather too friendly for Logan’s comfort as they hustled the captured trio into a lower level. Sirens and klaxons were sounding everywhere, torrents of noise drowning out all thought. He had no way of knowing when the missile had been fired, but it certainly wouldn’t take long to rip through the atmosphere to its target.
Singh was just behind him, Gaxric ahead, and they forged a path down the stairs to a drab, brown and black basement that had definitely not been painted to promote morale. A couple of dozen people were sitting on wooden stools or cross-legged on the floor, the scene illuminated by a dull green light that basked over them. The room was sparsely furnished, just the stools, a broken clock, and a whiteboard on the wall covered in gibberish.
Battlecruiser Alamo: Ghost Ship Page 22
