Battlecruiser Alamo: Pyrrhic Victory

by Tongue,Richard

   Looking down, a smile crossed his face. Gravity. This ship had rotational artificial gravity, just like most warships, to allow extended cruises. Staying in zero-gravity for too long had serious health repercussions, and pregnancy was a nightmare. They had to have some sort of gravity field to work with, at least some of the time. Theoretically, a rotating space station might provide what they wanted, but that would be too obvious, too hard to defend by a dispersed fleet of warships. On the surface of a world, they could dig in, bury their settlement underground.

   Three more systems were wiped from the map by his realization. All of them had planets, but none of them had worlds of the right size to have a gravity field matching this ship. That left just two possibilities, and as a bonus, gave him the hendecaspace points they needed. Throwing a control, he brought up images of the two stars, and projections of the planets orbiting them. One a rocky world, close-in to its star, tidally locked but large enough to provide the shelter he was seeking, the other the outer moon of a superjovian, one of dozens of swarming planet-sized chunks.

   Both worlds had their advantages. The moon had access to plentiful resources, scattered all across local space, but also dozens of local hendecaspace points. That would give lots of opportunities for the Neander to escape if a hostile fleet arrived, but would also allow an enemy ample means to evade defenses.

   The other world was alone, in a system with only one other, distant planet, and a scattered cometary belt that was all but inaccessible, even for hendecaspace-capable ships. Still it had the advantage of only limited access, only two ways into the colony. Protecting them with some sort of orbital defense network would be easy, but the lack of local resources would hurt soon enough. The mineralogical projections of the planet weren't promising, and the environmental hazards serious.

   Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside, but he kept looking at the starfield, increasingly certain he was making the right choice. When they fled their homeworld to become outlaws, the Neander weren't simply looking for a place to build a new home, but a place to hide, where their oppressors could never find them. Nor could they plan on being able to move around too often. Some facilities had to be built over the course of years, and could not be transported easily or quickly. This had to last.

   It had to be the tidally-locked world. It was the last place anyone would establish a colony if they had a choice, the system had no obvious features to recommend it to a visitor, or anyone setting up a trading network, and the two hendecaspace points could be defended by a small fleet. If anyone did enter into the system, they could easily be shot down. He looked around the room, a smile on his face, knowing that his assumption applied to his ship, also.

   “Salazar to Bridge,” he said, tapping a control. “I'm sending up our target data. I want a best-time hendecaspace course ready to go in fifteen minutes.” He looked at the system again, and added, “Don't pass this to the rest of the fleet. Just in case.”

   “Don't you trust us?” Harper asked, walking into the room.

   “Aye, sir,” Maqua replied, his voice echoing from the ceiling. “Computing course now. Our scheduled departure time is in sixteen minutes, ten seconds, sir, if we're leaving as planned.”

   “That's the intention, Midshipman. I'll be up presently.”

   “Yes, sir.”

   Shaking her head, Harper said, “I've got to say, you sound like a commanding officer.”

   “I'm just a good actor,” he replied. “How are you bearing up?”

   “Badly.” Looking at the display, she continued, “You've picked this world based on the potential for orbital defense, right?”

   “And other things, but that's the basic idea.”

   “Meaning that you're flying into a trap. If they've got a satellite network, there's no reason to expect that they won't simply shoot you out of hand before you can so much as send a signal.” Shaking her head, she added, “Pavel, I don't like this, not at all.”

   “Daedalus might not be able to do it,” he replied, “and one of the Koltoc Monitors would certainly be shot down out of hand, but this was one of their ships, remember. And as far as they know, she's still operating under the command of their crew. All I have to do is make sure that Maqua is front and center at the start, and we should be able to get through the defense perimeter. We should only need twenty, thirty seconds.”

   “An awful lot can happen in thirty seconds,” she said.

   Nodding, he said, “Which is why we're operating with the smallest possible crew. I've stripped down to eighteen.” Shaking his head, he added, “It'll be tricky, but if we manage to talk Skeuros and his Merry Men to returning to the fight, I should be able to get some replacement crew from them.”

   “And if you can't?”

   Patting the hull, Salazar replied, “This is a good ship, Kris, but we're already asking her to do more than we have any right to. She really shouldn't even be flying. Which means that from a strategic point-of-view, both she and her crew are expendable.” He paused, then added, “All of them volunteered, even when I told them the risk they were running.”

   “Pavel...”

   Turning away from her, he continued, “What I'm trying to tell you is that if we don't make it to the party, we're no great loss. Risking this ship and a few crewmen to double the size of our attack forces is an acceptable trade.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “I don't like it, Kris, I don't like it at all, but we've got to think of it in those terms.”

   Shaking her head, she walked up behind him, placing her hand on his shoulder, and said, “We've really been thrown into the deep end, haven't we.”

   Nodding, he replied, “And God-damn Captain Orlova and Commodore Marshall for getting us into the mess in the first place. We should never have come out this far, should have turned around at Testament Station and brought the task force forward. This war might have been over by now if we had. Yes, Copernicus would have fallen, but those bastards turned traitor anyway.”

   “Pavel...”

   “We left Yeager Station with a hundred and forty people, and only forty-five of them are left. We don't know if the others are alive or dead. We can hope that Cooper and some of the others managed to get away, start some sort of resistance movement, but that's all we can do. Hope. We won't know, not until the battle started.”

   Turning to her, he continued, “It's a good plan, Kris, and it's the best one we can come up with, but it's just so damned unfair that we've been left with this mess to clean up in the first place. I know no one ever promised that the universe would be fair, but it would be nice, just for once, to have a mission where everything went smoothly.” His eye itched, and he reached up to scratch it, snatching his hand away at the last moment. “Damn.”

   “Is that still bothering you?” Harper asked.

   “Sometimes,” he said. “I'm trying not to scratch in public. I don't think it's what a commanding officer should be doing.” With a faint smile, he added, “Not that I'm much of a commanding officer. Look at me, ranting and raving.”

   “You've got to vent to someone,” she replied. “And I think you're a fine commanding officer. If you don't trust yourself, trust your crew. You said it yourself. Foster, Maqua, Spinelli, Weitzman, Hooke, Bartlett. Lombardo. Rhodes. All of them volunteered to come with you, and they didn't do it for the mission, they did it for you. They know you, they trust you, and they're counting on you to pull this off.”

   Shaking his head, he replied, “I've been out of the Academy for two years, damn it. I shouldn't be sitting center-seat on a starship for another decade, at least. It's too soon, and I know it. There's so much I don't know, and...”

   “Pavel, you've got to have faith. Faith that you'll find a way to make this mission work, no matter the odds.” Taking a deep breath, she added, “We both know that not everyone is coming back from this one, but they all knew the risks going in. If you told them that they weren't going to make it, but th
at their deaths would accomplish the mission, do you think any of them would ask to switch ships? Even Hooke, annoying as he is.”

   With a thin smile, he replied, “Where did you pick up all of this stuff from?”

   “Maggie Orlova, mostly, with a dash of Logan Winter.”

   “Captain Winter,” he said, shaking his head. “I wouldn't mind meeting that man one day.”

   “I think you'll get the chance, when we get home. And we are getting home, Pavel. Don't doubt that.”

   “He's going to try and shanghai me into Intelligence?”

   “Certainly, once this mission is over,” she replied. “Unless you'd rather spend the next three years filing paperwork on Mariner Station, or on some sort of eternal public relations junket, telling a procession of bored schoolchildren about the wonders of the universe?” Shaking her head, she added, “You'd be tearing down the bulkheads in a week.”

   “Probably,” he said.

   “Besides, the two of us make a good team, and I don't want to see that broken up. Don't worry, I'm certain Logan will find us something interesting to do.” Glancing at the starfield, she continued, “Though we're getting some leave first. That I will guarantee.”

   “We've got a date with a beach, down on Copernicus, once this battle is over,” he replied. “And this time we're not going to miss it.” He paused, then added, “One more thing. Kris, I know that there's a chance...”

   “Don't say it.”

   “If the worst does happen, then remember that this mission was my idea, and my responsibility. And that I went down doing what I love, fighting for something bigger and better than I am.” With a smile, he added, “As you pointed out, I knew exactly what I was doing when I went in, and I'd do it again, no matter what.”

   Shaking her head, she said, “You aren't going to die, Pavel. And don't ask me how, or to defend that statement, because I can't. Maybe I have faith in your survival instincts, or maybe I just think that the cold, uncaring universe owes us one. All I know is that we're going to win, and we're going to win big. You can count on that.” A smile curled on her lips, and she added, “We're going to get that walk on the beach. Don't you dare be late.”

   “I'll be there,” he replied. “I wouldn't miss it for the world.”

   She reached out to him, and he held her in his arms for a long minute. For that brief time, there was nothing else of importance in the universe to either of them. He looked down at her, but before he could say anything, his communicator chirped, breaking them out of their reverie.

   “Remind me to throw this out of an airlock,” he said, shaking his head. “Salazar here.”

   “Ryan here, sir. We're scheduled to leave the system in six minutes, and...”

   “And we need to think about heading to the egress point.” He nodded, looked down at Harper, and said, “Duty calls, I guess.”

   “I should be heading back to Daedalus anyway. We're breaking orbit ourselves in an hour.” Breaking out of their embrace, she added, “Take care of yourself, Pavel. Don't do anything stupid.” She paused, and said, “I guess I'll see you at Copernicus.”

   “I'll be there,” he said. “And I'll bring friends. Count on it.”

   “I will,” she said, making for the door. She paused for a second, as though about to add something, before turning for the corridor, quick footsteps on the deck outside. Salazar stood there for a moment, looking at the space she had been, holding the memory in his mind for as long as he could. All words aside, he couldn't quite get past the fear that he would never see her again.

   Reaching for his datapad, he turned off the holoprojector and walked calmly down the corridor, making for the bridge. As he reached for the ladder, the engines fired, pushing the ship away from the station, beginning its journey towards the hendecaspace point. He climbed up the rungs, three at a time in the low gravity, and rose to the command deck, Ryan standing at attention as he entered.

   “Course computed,” he said. “Egress in two minutes, ten seconds.”

   “Signal from Profitable Venture, sir,” Weitzman added. “Colonel Kilquan wishes us the best of luck, and good hunting.”

   Salazar looked down at the command chair, smiled, then settled into it, trying to look as relaxed as he could. There was obviously a trick to it, and one that he had not yet mastered. He tapped a control to show the base on the viewscreen, slowly receding as Random Walk raced for the hendecaspace point, a small dot showing Harper's shuttle, flying back to Daedalus on the far side.

   He longed to go with her, knowing that she was facing dangers every bit as grave as he. Or for her to be here, on this ship, standing behind him with some sort of sarcastic comment on stand-by. Shaking his head, he glanced down at the panel by his side, bringing up the course projection. An anonymous star, only detected a handful of years ago, just a long series of numbers to identify it. No one had even bothered to register a proper name for it.

   With a smile on his face, he typed, “Harper's Star,” into the keyboard, sending a data dump across to Daedalus. The next time they got in contact with anyone from the Confederation, the Interplanetary Astronomical Union would be getting a name request. And if this mission went wrong, it would be the last message he ever sent her.

   “Clear for hendecaspace entry in thirty seconds, sir,” Maqua said, turning from the helm.

   “All decks report ready,” Ryan added, looking across from the engineering station.

   “Very well, Midshipman, you have the call.”

   “Aye, sir,” he replied, reaching down to his controls. “I have the call.” He looked so young, and while he came from a world dozens of light-years from Earth, hundreds of centuries of divergent evolution separating them, Salazar saw himself in the young man's eyes. That eager look, a thirst for adventure. Had it been only two years since he'd been sitting at Alamo's helm, ready to seek out new worlds? It seemed like as many centuries.

   With a blinding blue flash, Random Walk slid into hendecaspace. They were committed now, bound for Harper's Star, and nothing could change their fate. In five days, he'd find out whether or not he had guessed right, and what sort of reception the Neander had prepared for them.

  Chapter 6

   The bullet smashed into the wall, missing Cooper by an inch, and he instantly snapped awake, instinct hurling him from his bed, hands reaching for his pistol. Outside, pandemonium reigned, and as he staggered into the clearing, he saw a man being held by Moretti and Walpis, a discarded rifle at his feet. One of the villagers he had saved, only a few days ago, with murder on his eyes.

   Barbara Bradley, his wife, came racing over, snapping a look of hatred at the would-be assassin before looking over him with a weary eye, shaking her head.

   “This is what happens when you turn in early,” she said. “Are you...”

   “He missed. Only just.” Stepping forward, he said, “Why?”

   “Thousands of our people will die if you aren't stopped,” the man said, spitting on the ground. “The Xandari made it clear what would happen if the resistance won. They'd bomb our planet from orbit, reduce our cities to rubble and send down their troops to wipe every man, woman and child from the face of Copernicus.” Standing taller, he continued, “You can kill me. I know that, going in. I'm just sorry I didn't succeed.”

   A crowd was gathering, and Moretti asked, “Do you think...”

   “No,” Cooper replied, looking at the refugees. “All of you are here because you have first-hand knowledge of what the Xandari are capable of. They don't need to wipe you out from orbit, not when they're already killing you piecemeal. They won't stop until everyone on this world is confined in Kepler City, a prison camp for their slave laborers. Just another Resource World for their Empire, and any hope for your future will die.”

   “What hope is there for a future if our world is a shattered ruin?” the prisoner asked.

   “They won't destroy this world,” he said
, shaking his head. “They need your industries, your workforce, all intact and serving their needs. It'll take more than one attack to convince them to throw all that away.” Turning to the man who had almost killed him, he added, “Let me tell you this. Their day is coming. We've got a fleet on the way, and when they arrive, we're going to rise up and throw those Xandari bastards back to the hell that gave them birth. Every savage act will be repaid with interest, I can promise you that.”

   “What do you want me to do with him, sir?” Walpis asked.

   “Kill the traitor!” a voice cried, screaming from the crowd, but Cooper shook his head.

   “No. Lock him up. When the war is over, he'll face trial for what he's done.”

   “Kill him!” the same shrill voice urged, and the rumble of the mob suggested that it was reporting the popular view. Cooper turned to his subordinate, doubt even in the Neander's eyes.

   “Corporal, take him away, lock him with the prisoners, and place a guard on him. I don't want to be told that he died while attempting escape, or that any harm has come to him.” Raising his voice and turning to the crowd, he continued, “The dead deserve their day in court. All of this must be remembered, or we'll only make the same damn mistakes again, and if we just kill someone without due process, we're no better than the Xandari.”

   “It's not your world,” a gray-haired woman said, stepping forward. “He's not one of your people. Why should you be the one to make the decisions?”

   A smile crossed Cooper's face, and he replied, “I could talk about the treaty our peoples made, or the weapons we've provided, or the fact that a lot of good friends of mine have died at the hands of your government, but I'm not going to.” Taking a step back, he said, “If you truly want to kill this man, then I won't stop you.” The prisoner looked stoically at the approaching crowd, but Cooper continued, “I won't stop you, but I won't help you any more. You can free yourselves, without my help. I'll come to my own arrangements with the Xandari, one way or another. I'd say there's an excellent chance they'll let me and the rest of my people leave, if we promise to tell the Fleet to leave Copernicus alone.”