Battlecruiser Alamo: Pyrrhic Victory

by Tongue,Richard

   “Don't torture yourself,” Scott replied, reaching for the datapad. “There was nothing you could have done about it, short of surrendering. My guess is that the bastard who killed them knew that. This was his last way of hurting you, and you can't let it work. You can't.” Glancing at the names, she said, “Kris, you're in command. Whether you like it or not.”

   Looking up at her, she replied, “That's the worst part of it. I want to hurt those bastards, Kat. More than I've wanted anything for a long time. They've got to be stopped.” She paused, took a breath, and added, “And yes, I'm worried that it's clouding my judgment.”

   “If you're worrying about it,” Scott answered, “then I'd say that you don't have anything to worry about.”

   “I hope so,” she replied, looking back at the battle-plan., still flashing across the screen. “If you want an answer to your question, then I honestly don't know. Anything might happen out there. Not all the ships we're expecting could show up, the uprising could be delayed, might already be under way when we arrive.”

   “Granted.”

   “If we must, though, we'll run. If it looks like we can't win. Though I'll tell you one thing, Kat, we'll have to have exhausted all hope before I can give that order. If we have any chance of pulling this off, we'll make the attempt. There are too many lives at stake. And more than a hundred people have already paid the price for our victory. We have a responsibility to them. To make their sacrifice count for something.”

   “The dead don't care, Kris,” Scott replied, bluntly. “And if this goes wrong, they'll have a lot of company. Just promise me that you'll do what is right, that you won't let yourself get sucked in.”

   Pausing, she asked, “What would you do?”

   “What?”

   “If our roles were reversed, if Captain Scott was sitting with Sub-Lieutenant Harper, what would you be doing right now?”

   “In all honesty, we'd be well on our way home. I don't think I'd have had the guts to make this call, to throw everything back onto the table for another spin of the wheel. And perhaps that means there is a good reason that you're in charge.” Reaching over to her, she added, “I'm with you, Kris, whatever happens. All the way to the end.”

   Nodding, she said, “Whatever happens, I don't think Daedalus has much chance of getting through this in one piece.” Looking around the ship, she continued, “She's old, and she's fought well, but I don't think she's got enough fight left in her. We'll be the first ship in, and the last ship out. If I tried to change the attack order, Tlodoc would have enough ammunition to shoot the plan to pieces.”

   “I already thought of that,” Scott replied. “All escape pods have been checked, and I've arranged for the shuttle to be equipped for high-speed flight. I've already told Chief Kowalski to make sure that the damage control teams give that part of the ship top priority.”

   “That's not what I mean,” she said. “I'm not really familiar with all of this, but I do know that the Captain is meant to go down with her ship.”

   “That's a bit of an archaic concept, isn't it?”

   With a thin smile, she replied, “Not when the Captain is also the best hacker on board, and the best equipped to buy her crew the time they need to get away. I'll be the last one off, Kat, and I suspect that means I'm giving away my ticket.” Raising her hand, she added, “I don't mind. Really. I've faced death before and come out the other end, but things are a little different now. I want you to be at the helm of that escape shuttle.”

   Shaking her head, Scott said, “No way. You're lousy at tactical, and...”

   “And that likely won't be an issue at the end. You're the best pilot we've got, and besides, I need you to deliver a message for me. Two messages, actually.”

   “Demoted to communications technician, then,” she said with a wry smile. “I'll see that they get them. Hand-delivered.”

   Harper reached into her pocket, and pulled out two labeled data-chips, pushing them across the table. “The first is to Captain Orlova. The second...”

   “To Pavel,” Scott replied.

   “Good guess.”

   “Foregone conclusion.” Scott scooped them up, then put them in her pocket. “You realize this is just a precaution, right? We're going to find a way to get through this, and I'll be handing these back to you at the other side.”

   “Sure,” Harper replied. “Sure.” Taking a deep breath, she added, “Though if it comes to that, if it looks like everything's gone to hell, keep an eye on Pavel for me. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.” She paused, then said, “I guess you know what I mean.”

   “If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here at all,” Scott said. “Don't worry, I'll make sure he's alright. Count on it.”

   “Bridge to Briefing Room,” Armstrong said, her voice sounding from the ceiling speaker. “Ready to proceed to hendecaspace point.”

   “Can you handle it, Midshipman?” Harper asked.

   “Yes, ma'am,” an uncertain voice replied.

   “Then proceed on plan, Armstrong, and you have the call.”

   “Aye, Captain,” she said. “I have the call.”

   Scott looked at her, and said, “One of us should probably be up there.”

   “Probably, but I think Armstrong can handle it, and she deserves at least one chance to take the ship out for herself.” With a smile, she added, “Besides, she's third-in-command of this ship.”

   “God. A Midshipman that high in the command structure, even in a ship this small. That just about makes it clear how desperate we are, doesn't it.” She looked up at the battle plan, still endlessly repeating, and said, “We're worrying about nothing. It'll work.”

   “Yeah,” Harper said. “It'll work. It has to.” The display reached the point where the second squadron arrived, Salazar and the Neander flashing into the system, and she sighed. Until he jumped into battle, she wouldn't even know if he was still alive. Anything might have happened to him. Or be happening, right now.

  Chapter 12

   Salazar dove to the floor, the bullet missing him by inches as it slammed into the wall. He looked up at the impact site, cursing under his breath. That could easily have breached the hull, a rupture that would have killed all of them within a matter of seconds. Maqua lay to his left, pulling a crate in front of him to provide cover, while he rolled to the right, trying to find shelter among the ration boxes in the main dome.

   “Damn it, we don't have time for this,” he said. Looking up at his hidden assailant, he yelled, “Who the hell are you? Xandari?”

   “We're not going to let you go,” a voice replied, dark and low. “We're not going to let you steal our only means of defense so our families can be butchered.”

   “It doesn't make a difference,” Salazar answered. “Whether we go or not, the Xandari will come, and if they don't, the Koltoc will. Someone will take this planet, and your people will still be enslaved. Your way just condemns them to years of misery first.”

   His only response was another bullet, crashing into the plastoform box in front of him, sending splinters flying through the air. A pungent smell billowed forth, some sort of spicy liquid seeping out onto the floor, oozing from a broken container. Salazar looked up into the shadows, trying to find the gunman, still hidden in the gloom.

   On instinct, he reached for his holster, then cursed. His gun was still sitting on his command chair, up on Random Walk, waiting for his return. Five days down here getting the Neander squadron ready to depart, and now, with minutes to go before their departure, some maniac was trying to kill him. It had to be deliberate timing, of course. If they missed the window, Harper would be attacking without support. At best, the mission would be a disastrous failure. At worst, they all would die.

   Glancing across at Maqua, he saw the Neander motioning them forward, and shook his head. Better late than dead, and if the two of them were killed here, the odds were that the squadron w
ouldn't depart at all. He looked around, trying to piece together a safe path through the stores, the towers of crates and contains a small city with streets and alleys.

   There might be a path, back and to the left, if he could move quickly enough. He gestured at Maqua to keep low, then to cause a distraction, praying that he'd managed to master his combat sign language classes, and received a comforting nod in response. Which didn't mean that he'd understood him, of course.

   Counting to five, he rolled to the left, rising to his feet in one movement, while Maqua hurled some of the contents of his container forward, packets that sloshed on the ground, scattering an orange sauce in brief fountains of color. A pair of bullets raced through the air, one of them rattling into his erstwhile barricade, the other running close enough that he could feel the wind on his cheek as he made his way to the safety of cover.

   Alarms should have sounded across the whole base when the gunfight began, but seconds into the duel, there was still no sign of any security, no indication that anyone knew he was in trouble. As he walked along the alley, he reached into his pocket, tapping the distress button on his communicator. The loud squeal drew another crack, wide and to his right, and he tumbled down into a sack of soft padding, losing his feet in the scrabble. A second gunman, covering their escape.

   Footsteps raced from the distance, and he heard a pair of shots echo through the cavernous dome. He struggled to his feet, and saw Captain Dhonkos walking towards him, gun in his hand and murder in his eyes. Salazar looked around, trying to find some way out, but the only paths led to danger, one back the way he came, one towards the approaching Neander.

   “If you kill me, I'll be avenged,” Salazar said. “My crew know something has gone wrong, and they'll have people down here in a moment.”

   “I'm not here to kill you,” Dhonkos said, reaching into his pocket. Salazar flinched, and the Neander drew another pistol, turning it butt-first and passing it across. “I'm here to help. I just took out one of the assassins back there. Someone really doesn't like you, Lieutenant.” His face cracked into a smile, and he added, “Someone else, I mean.”

   Salazar took the pistol, checked the clip, then said, “You'll understand my suspicion.”

   “I think you're going to get a lot of my people killed, Lieutenant, but I don't intend to take up arms against my own to do it.” Gesturing behind him, he added, “We're wasting time.”

   Nodding, Salazar followed the Neander back around the dome, two more shots ringing out behind him, Maqua yelling a curse at the man trying to kill him. It was all he could do not to race around, try to draw the fire away, but there was room for a hundred assassins in here, skulking in the dark. Dhonkos glanced back at him, then turned a corner, stepping over a body on the floor, one hand forced open, his forehead a bloody mess.

   “Two of them,” Dhonkos said. “One each.”

   “Whatever you say,” Salazar said, and the two of them charged out of cover, firing a pair of wild shots to attract the attention of the gunmen, then more precise shots with their second bursts. Salazar caught his target in the shoulder, sending him dropping to the ground, and as an exchange of shots sounded out beside him, the other Neander collapsed, the light in his eyes fading as blood gurgled from a wound in his chest.

   The survivor was the guard that had greeted him when he'd arrived at the planet, now glaring up at him with hatred as he desperately reached for his weapon. Salazar kicked it away, then knelt down beside him, quickly checking him for weapons.

   “Why?” he asked.

   “You had to be stopped. Our people are more important. We can't risk everything for you.” With a cough, the guard added, “You'd have done the same in my place.”

   “No, I wouldn't.”

   “Skipper,” Maqua said, over by Dhonkos. “He's hurt. Bad.”

   Salazar turned back to the Neander, lying sprawled on the deck with a critical wound in his leg. The bullet had ripped into an artery, crimson blood spilling out, and he hurled himself to the side of the Neander, tearing a strip from his trousers to find a bandage.

   “Medical kit,” he said, looking up at Maqua.

   “Where?”

   “I don't know, damn it, find one!” Turning back to Dhonkos, he ripped the Neander's trousers clear, his eyes widening as he saw the wound, and tried to wrap the improvised tourniquet into position, the blood only oozing faster, Maqua frantically running along the walls, trying to find the medical kit.

   “Don't worry,” Salazar said, forcing a smile. “I've seen worse insect bites.”

   “Lying bastard,” Dhonkos said.

   “Here!” Maqua said, tugging a box down from the wall, pulling it open and dropping it next to Salazar. After six months, he'd picked up a few words of the language, and found what he thought was an anticoagulant, injecting it close to the wound. He rummaged for a bandage, Dhonkos coughing as his breaths grew fainter, less frequent.

   “Shock,” Salazar said. “Where the hell is everyone?”

   Footsteps raced down the corridor, and Maqua picked up a pistol, covering the door, dropping it gratefully as Lombardo sprinted into the room at the head of a group of Neander, Ingros at the rear, eyes wide.

   “Damn it, why isn't this working?” Salazar said, wrapping another layer of bandage around the leg.

   Dhonkos reached up to him, locking his wrist in an iron grip, and said, “Listen, damn it. If you're going to lead our fleet, you make that mission of yours work, you hear? Make the Xandari pay for every life lost, and smash them hard enough that they can never threaten anyone again. You understand?”

   “I understand,” Salazar said, letting the bandage drop to the floor. At last, a white-uniformed medic rushed into the room, but one look at the wound convinced her that it was hopeless, and she shook her head in defeat. “We'll make it work, Major. You have my word.”

   “I'll hold you to that, boy,” the Neander said, “I'll hold you to that.” He gasped, then slumped to the deck, his hand dropping away, his muscles limp. Salazar looked down at him, then across at the Neander's murderer, lying on the deck with Lombardo keeping him covered. Ingros pulled out his pistol, leveling at the man, but Salazar shook his head.

   “No.”

   “I'm being framed!” the guard burbled. “He killed Dhonkos, and my friend, when we tried to talk him out of this insane attack. He'll kill all of you to rescue his people! He doesn't care about us!”

   Ingros smashed the butt of his gun on the murderer, reducing him to blubbering tears, and said, “You still want this piece of crap to breathe?”

   “Blood for blood?” Maqua said. “We're better than that.”

   “Lock him up,” Salazar said. “After this is over, he can face trial for murder and attempted murder.”

   “Under our law...”

   “Leave it, Major,” Salazar replied, sharply. He gestured at the medic, and said, “You'll see him taken into custody?”

   “I will,” she said, nodding. “I will.”

   “Good.” Turning back to Ingros, he added, “Hold onto that rage, Major, and save it for the Xandari. They did this, one way or another, no matter who actually pulled the trigger.” Looking down at Dhonkos, he added, “Does he have family?”

   Shaking his head, Ingros replied, “His son died at Copernicus.”

   With a sigh, Salazar said, “I see.” Looking at the body, he added, “It takes a good man to put aside vengeance for the good of his people, Major. Maybe a better man than me.”

   “We'll take care of everything, Lieutenant,” the medic said.

   Nodding, Salazar turned to Ingros, and said, “We'd better get to our ships.”

   “Yes, sir,” Ingros said, his fingers still wrapped around the holster of his pistol as though he might change his mind about the guard at the last minute, before he finally turned and stalked out of the room, a cluster of the others following him. Maqua looked after him, shaking hi
s head.

   “I don't understand,” the Neander said. “I just don't understand.”

   “Neither do I, and thank God for that,” Salazar replied. He turned to him, and asked, “No injuries?”

   “No, sir, I'm fine.”

   “Good. Let's get out of here, then.” He smiled, then added, “Damn it all, I think my eye's stopped itching.” The two of them walked out of the dome, the guard watching their every move, tracking him with his eyes. No one disturbed them on their way to the waiting shuttle, and they stepped through the airlock with no other interruption, no disturbance of the silence. Lombardo slid into the co-pilot's seat with Maqua at the helm, Salazar settling down in the passenger cabin by himself as they launched, heading towards Random Walk up ahead.

   Half a dozen other shuttles were in front of them, all taking the crews to their ships, ready to return to the fight. He glanced down at his datapad, calling up the tactical data, but all he could see was the dead body of Dhonkos, lying on the deck. So many people had died in this undeclared war, a trail of blood light-years long, and it almost felt as though those working to stop it were paying the highest price of all. A son dead, seven light-years away, the father dying at the hands of an assassin in what had been meant as their refuge.

   He looked out of the viewport at the cluster of domes, stretched out across the field, lights shining as the settlement receded in the distance, their engines kicking them up to their appointment with destiny. A haven that the Neander had withdrawn to, a hope no less desperate than the one driving them on to their goal.

   More people were going to die. He knew that, had known it from the start. The Neander forces were flying blind into battle, not knowing whether the Koltoc had been able to pioneer the way, potentially into a fully-operational orbital defense network that could swat them out of the sky in a second. Knowing that, they were all going in anyway.

   The shuttle soared out of the atmosphere, heading for a cluster of lights. The Neander squadron, with Random Walk resting at its heart, a position not merited by combat potential. Still, it was an impressive fleet, and as the points of light grew larger, resolving into shapes, a smile began to cross his face. They could pull this off. With ships like these, and crews of men such as Dhonkos and Ingros, they had a chance to beat the Xandari back.