The crowd burst into cheers, clapping and hailing Tolwyn.
The admiral raised his hands, urging them to silence. His voice grew, impassioned. "It is unfortunate that, for our program to succeed, we must take certain unpleasant steps." He frowned slightly. "I have heard that some of you have had qualms about delivering the bio-convergence canisters or have expressed concerns about the Telamon operation."
Blair nodded his head fractionally, finally understanding why the admiral was preaching to the choir. There had been grumbling in the ranks, and he would need to stamp that out before it blossomed into disaffection.
"Please understand," Tolwyn continued, "I did not order that from any desire to inflict suffering on the people of Telamon. It was, and is, necessary to neutralize the genetic pools that do not directly contribute to the species' survivability. We shall need the precious resources they consume for the coming struggles. It is sad that we must excise the surplus population, but we must if humanity is to survive.
"The Plan is harsh and it is cruel, but it IS necessary." He steepled his fingers under his nose a moment, as though thinking. "You may cry for the ones who must be neutralized, just as I do, but you must deliver the canisters. Otherwise, The Plan will fail and humanity will die."
He returned to his lectern. "To that end, I have engineered a war between the Border Worlds and the Confederation. The virus will be borne on the winds of war throughout the human hegemony, sowing change into worlds on both sides of the conflict. Each planet they touch will be rebuilt in our image, the image of the race that will defend humanity's place in the galaxy and, eventually, some daylong in the future, will accomplish the conquest of that galaxy."
He grinned again. "Besides, we also need to practice. The conflict provides us with the live-fire training we need to hone our edge. The Border Worlds, ingenious and blessed with a mongrel frontier spirit, have been an excellent laboratory for us. They've given us an ideal situation to test weapons, refine tactics, and build our readiness." He sighed. "We owe them a debt of gratitude. You must not forget that they are serving our species by dying, just as surely as you serve it by living."
He opened his arms wide again, calling them to him. "My fellow warriors… your duty to your species, your fellows, and to me, lies before you. I know you won't disappoint me."
Tolwyn turned and left the podium as the warriors began clapping rhythmically. Blair joined them, trying to blend in. He was appalled, horrified to his core that what Tolwyn so casually discussed, if Telamon was any indication, involved the murdering of ninety percent of the human population, all in favor of his personal Lebensborn. He felt physically ill as he thought back to Dekker's warning that he would live to regret letting the admiral go free.
A motion on the stage drew Blair's eye. Seether stood and joined Tolwyn. The admiral took his hand warmly. They spoke. Blair gritted his teeth.
Seether stepped to the microphone. "You've heard the admiral's words. Now it's time for your orders. Phoenix wing will embark on the Vesuvius at zero-three hundred hours. Eagle's Claw wing will embark at zero-seven, together with the Marine oattalion. We'll transfer other wings as they become available. You will have two notices before our departure to finalize any last-minute details. That is all."
Seether touched his finger to his ear, as though receiving a message from an earpiece. He frowned slightly and scanned the room. Blair looked to his right ana saw the guard staring intently at him. Well, Chris, he thought, it's time to get the hell out.
He turned and began to work his way through the crowd that had begun to filter towards the exits. He wormed his way quickly through the pilots and walked quickly back to the flight bay. He fought the urge to break and run.
He arrived at the flight bay and sauntered casually towards his Lance, passing the security cage with the bio-hazard signs. He made it halfway to the fighter when an alarm sounded. "Intruder alert. Intruder alert. Main docking bay. Detain subject DuMont for questioning."
Although every nerve screamed for him to run, Blair continued his nonchalant walk and made it to his bird.
Blair scrambled up the ladder, and jumped inside. The. contact light glowed green, indicating the canopy had sealed correctly.
He glanced up. The deck was thick with black forms, most armed. He ripped off the fake bandages, slammed his helmet on his head and fired up his engines. He waited a scant second for the drives to stabilize, then rolled his fighter towards the force curtain. He touched his afterburners, and heard the screams of the seared men and women behind him as he blasted down the ramp, through the portal, and out into space.
The fortress' smaller guns were already registering as he oriented his fighter towards the lane through the minefield. A single laser bolt hit his aft phase shield. He cloaked, jinked, and ran like hell for the Intrepid.
Tolwyn stood, looking out the porthole and watching the last of the search teams straggle in. He turned as the door opened. Seether entered, his expression tightly controlled, except for a single nerve jumping in his temple. Tolwyn turned to look back out into space.
"No luck?"
"None," Seether replied. "He was in a stolen Black Lance. He cloaked as soon as he was clear of the station."
Tolwyn counted to ten, slowly and silently, to ensure that when he spoke, he would be calm. "Is the guard certain it was Blair? His DNA was one of the templates we used. Twenty years back, those on the project were already watching him. Could it have been one of ours, gone renegade P'
"No," Seether replied, "it was Blair. The guard had served on the old Concordia and often spoke to him."
Tolwyn tugged at his tunic, straightening it. "I have to return to Earth to make certain the declaration of war goes as it should. Once we're at war, seed the first five Confed worlds on the target list with canisters. War hysteria will make it easy to blame the Border Worlds."
He looked back out the porthole. "You are to assume command of the Vesuvius. Hunt down the Intrepid and my 'prodigal son' and kill them. Then proceed to Point Luck and begin preparations for the drop. I'll notify you when we have a war." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, still trying to control his temper. "I'm sorry I can only give you two wings. The Princeton was ferrying Serpent, and Griffin was destroyed at the Speradon factory complex."
"We'll make do, Admiral," Seether replied. "We always do."
Chapter Thirteen
Admiral Wilford glanced at Maniac and the Intrepicts senior officers. "Do any of you have any questions for Colonel Blair?"
No one moved.
"Do you have anything to add, Colonel?"
"That's basically it, Admiral," Blair said. "Then I ran back to my ship and got the hell out of there."
Wilford, his skin gray and ashen, sighed heavily. "Tolwyn—of all people." He looked up Blair. "Has he gone insane?"
Blair shrugged. "I don't know, sir."
"What do we do, Admiral?" Hawk asked.
Wilford pondered the question. "What can we do? Tolwyn's gone to Earth, to get his declaration of war. He'll only drag all of humanity… Border Worlder and Confed, into the abyss with him." He frowned, making his decision. "We have to stop him. We have to take what information we have and go to Earth. Eisen should already be there. We can perhaps join forces with him."
Garibaldi raised his hand to speak. "Sir, the Evil I only has two working drives. She was never that fast to begin with. Our flank speed's going to be pretty pathetic."
Wilford exhaled heavily. Blair thought he looked more frail each day. It pained him to see the old admiral's body failing. His eyes were bright and alert, however, as was his mind.
"We'll make for Orestes," Wilford announced. "There we'll either transfer to the Princeton, continue on as we are, or use one of the fast frigates. If we get to Earth, we have a chance to stop the war. Anything else just prolongs the agony."
Blair was about to reply when the briefing room door opened. "Sir!" the scanner tech cried. "We have something. A big mother, coming out of the jump po
int. I've never seen anything this big!"
Blair felt ice run down his spine. "The Vesuvius."
"Hellfire!" Wilford swore, then pivoted towards the Intrepid's second-in-command. "Garibaldi, get us out of here! Flank speed for the far jump point!" Years seemed to fall away as he rapped out orders. He looked at the pilots. "I'll need you three to slow them down and buy us some time. Use everything that'll fly." Maniac, Hawk, and Panther ran from the room, leaving Blair and Wilford alone.
"I'm going too," Blair said.
"No, Colonel, you're not. You're too important."
"Right now you need every pilot you've got," Blair argued. "I'm the only one rated on the Lance, and you're the one who said that we need all the firepower you can get." He thought a moment. "If we don't get out of this system, then my evidence doesn't mean a thing."
Wilford looked at him. "All right, Colonel. But be careful and if it looks like we're going down, then your orders are to abandon us, jump out of the system, and warn Orestes." He stared at Blair. "Those are direct orders. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Blair replied.
"Sorry, Colonel, that wasn't the answer I was looking for."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Thank you, Colonel, and good hunting."
He hit the flight deck and sprinted for his Black Lance. Fighters had been crowded past the flight deck's midpoint, and well past the safe run-up distance for even the smallest birds. He wasn't certain how Maniac planned to get that many fighters off the deck and into battle.
The loudhailer crackled and boomed, "Two minutes to shutdown!" He could feel the vibration in the deck as the Intrepid accelerated to flank speed.
He scrambled into his fighter. Pliers had already prepped the ship. The safety tags had been removed and the displays had been put on-line. He took his helmet from the crewchief and plugged in. Maniacs face appeared in his comm-panel. "Colonel, what are you doing here?"
"I think that's obvious," he snapped. "What's the plan?"
Maniac smirked. "I never thought I'd see this day. Here I am, giving you orders." He paused. "We're going to ambush them. We're going to cold launch—just roll off the back of the deck like they do on those packets. That'll lower our emissions enough that they might not detect us. Then we lie in wait. Hopefully, when that bastard gets in range we can jump any CAP he has out, bomb-run him with our 'Swords and 'Bows, and run.
"Colonel, you're to bat cleanup. Hit them any way you can, confuse them as much as possible. But be careful, though, because you still look exactly like them. No one else can cloak, so you won't have a wingmate."
"Got it," Blair replied. "Any other good news?"
"Nope, that's it."
The loudhailer boomed again. "One minute to shutdown!" The last of the fighters' canopies closed. The ground crews sprinted for the exits. The last door had barely closed before Blair heard Maniac counting. "Three-two-one-SHUTDOWN!"
Blair gritted his teeth as his stomach felt the ship's artificial gravity deactivate. Several of the fighters began to float as the ship's vibrations rattled them off the deck. Blair glanced back and saw the rear force curtain shimmer and vanish.
Explosive decompression surrounded the ships in a howl of debris, tools, blankets, and lightweight gear. Several of the lighter birds, caught in the howling wind, drifted towards the exit or into one another. The fighters nearest the rear deck fired their maneuvering thrusters, giving them enough rearward movement to drift them off the deck and into space. Blair hit his own thrusters when he saw the deck behind him had cleared.
He kept a close eye around him as the ships drifted into open space. Fighters and bombers fired their maneuvering jets to orient themselves towards the Vesuvius. Blair realized the Intrepid must have changed its course, crossing the huge ship's bows long enough to string the fighters out like a fence.
"We can still read you," Wilford said from the Intrepid. "Reduce your electronic emissions. Shut down IFF and trackers."
The ambush group shut its active emitters. The blue pips on his tracker turned red as the Lance detected their presence, but not their IFF codes. Blair cloaked to await developments.
A bright star burned in the distance, likely the Vesuvius, boring in towards the task force at flank speed. His tracker picked up a wave of about fifty fighters advancing ahead of the mother ship.
"Steady… steady," Wilfords voice said in his ears, urging coolness, "hold your positions. Don't jump the gun." The Confed ships continued to close. Blair saw the drive plumes of the leading edge of the Confed wedge. His target tracker settled on a Hellcat. The range counter spool ticked rapidly downward as the Confed fighters boosted into range.
"Steady," Wilford said, drawing the word out. "NOW!"
Thirty-eight ships, Maniacs entire wing, exploded from their masked positions and accelerated towards the startled Confed fighters. Blair heard a quick "Tallyho!" Volleys of missiles fired by the Border Worlds' ships lanced outward, each seeking its own target. He keyed an IFF missile on the Hellcat he'd targeted and fired. The Hellcat dodged another missile. Blairs IFF warhead impacted just aft of the cockpit. The damaged 'Cat reeled out of the battle and into deep space, its dead pilot trapped in the ruined cockpit, its drives still firing.
Several black ships flared as the warheads burst against their shields. He saw a few detonations as Confed fighters died, but not nearly enough to turn the tide of battle.
The Confed pilots reacted quickly, spinning their ships, trying to get in close to their ambushers—close enough to abate the missile hazard. Both sides traded shots and missiles at point-blank range. Explosions marked the passage of both Border Worlds and Confederation craft.
He brought the Lance around in a tight arc and recloaked to secretly close on a black Hellcat pursuing a Border Worlds Rapier. The Rapier pilot wrung everything he could out of his old bird as he tried to escape. The black 'Cat stayed right behind him. Blair got the Confed ship in his sights, dropped his cloak, and fired. His tachyon cannon flared the Confed ship's shields a brief moment before they penetrated, destroying the fighter in a red and yellow fireball. The Rapier pilot reacted to his salvation by pulling hard up into a half-loop and reversing course in a classic Immelman turn, scattering fire at Blair as it passed.
"Hey, it's Blair—Tiger," he yelled. "I'm on your side!"
"Sorry, Colonel." The Rapier waggled its wings in apology and returned to the fight.
Blair, feeling both relieved and silly, leaned over to check his IFF switch. It was active, showing him a blue pipper to his own side. He realized how little use it was likely to be. His coal black ship, indistinguishable from those the Confed flew, invited attack. He grinned, wondering how best to put that to his advantage.
The first of the Border Worlds' few Longbows blazed past him, hitting its throttles and blasting towards the distant carrier. Blair pulled up behind it, using it as bait for the Confed point-defense squadron that was bound to be about.
He had a short wait. Two Confed Hellcats vectored in, targeting the bomber and swinging around to attack from the rear hemisphere. The Longbow's rear turret engaged them, its particle gun bravely plinking away at them as they closed.
Blair waited for the first 'Cat to begin its attack run, then decloaked. He hit it hard, angling in on a high deflection shot and rippling shots down its spine as it flew through his stream of fire. It shuddered as its shields foiled, then broke up as the tachyon beams punched deep holes into its structure.
The second Hellcat veered away. Blair toggled off an IFF missile that looped after the 'Cat, striking it amidships. It limped away, trailing debris.
Bluish white energy balls flashed past his cockpit. His phase shields flared as they recorded hits. He looked to his right and saw the Longbows tail gunner firing at him.
He opened his mouth to yell at the bomber when the Vesuvius hove into view, surrounded by a literal curtain of laser fire as its defensive batteries engaged the attacking bombers. The Longbow ignored the heavy batteries as it blazed in t
owards the Vesuvius' bow. Blair saw it one second, pressing home its attack. The next instant it was gone, marked only by an expanding ball of gas.
He recloaked and swung the Lance back around and towards the main battle. The Vesuvius' fighters had been stalled by the ambush, preventing a torpedo strike on the Border Worlds ship.
The huge carrier cut through the wolfpacks of small ships that probed and tore at each other. Two torpedoes bloomed along the Vesuvius' flanks. Blair scanned the huge ship, looking in vain for damage.
He couldn't help but compare the chunky, awkward Intrepid with the smooth, sleek Vesuvius. The Evil I looked like what it was, a destroyer whose appearance had been hopelessly marred by the landing bay that had been cobbled onto it. The Vesuvius, by contrast, had two huge, cigar-shaped bays perfectly proportioned to the ship's central core.
The Confed fighters, apparently reacting to the torpedo strikes, broke to defend the ship. Blair saw a Broadsword, burning from multiple fighter hits and dogged by a pair of Hellcats, tip over and angle in towards the Vesuvius. It impacted against the carrier's side, a kamikaze. Its armed torpedoes detonated a moment later, raising a brilliant red and white explosion centered on the carrier's main hull. The expanding fireball illuminated the scores of small caliber barbettes dotting its hull and the dozen or so massive double turrets that housed its main armament. The explosion faded to leave a single winking secondary fire on the Vesuvius' hull.
The Confed fighters, distracted by the bombers and the kamikaze strike, fell back. Blair heard Maniac order his fighters to withdraw to the Intrepid, then counted a bare two-dozen fighters moving in retrograde. They had lost a third of their active strength on the first skirmish.
He trailed the retreating Border Worlds ships, attacking the few Confed ships who preyed on the damaged and lagging ships. He bagged one Hellcat and then a second that moved in to finish a damaged Ferret.
The Price of Freedom Page 32
