Rebellion's Fury

by Jay Allan

  Kutusov walked over to the communications panel, gesturing for the officer there to cut the line. “Admiral, bring the fleet to battle stations.”

  Nerov stood and stared, impressed at the coolness in his voice. She’d grown to like the ambassador, his constant flirtation and his ultimate delivery of the support she’d sought combining to create some level of true affection. But she’d considered him a little effete, too focused on societal niceties for her tastes. Now she saw an iron firmness that had been hidden before, and her respect for the Russian grew. She didn’t know if he’d be able to stare down Taggart, but he seemed ready to push things as far as he had to.

  The bridge was quiet, the tension heavy in the air. Kutusov stood there, waiting.

  “Admiral, the federal fleet has gone to full alert. We’re picking up thrust readings. It appears they are shaking into a battle formation.”

  “Very well,” Bellakov replied. Then he turned toward Kutusov. “Do we engage, Ambassador?”

  Kutusov paused for a moment. Then he answered, “Arm all weapons. Prepare for battle. But you are not to open fire without my permission.”

  Nerov could see Kutusov was still banking on Taggart giving in. She didn’t know what she expected, but she’d never seen time pass more slowly.

  “All ships ready for battle, Ambassador.”

  “Very well, Admiral.” Kutusov stood where he was, staring at the comm unit.

  Darryl Taggart sat in his command chair, his eyes moving from one of his people to the next. The images he saw were all the same, the tension almost visible in the air around them.

  Taggart felt trapped. The military situation was hopeless. The Union and Hegemony forces had too large an advantage, in both numbers and position. He could try to withdraw, but the newly arrived fleet was between his ships and the main transit point. If they decided to attack while his task force was preparing to jump, he could lose half his ships. Hell, I could lose them all . . .

  Better to fight in that case, and at least cause some damage to the enemy. There was little doubt a major battle at Epsilon Eridani would be the start of a new war, and the loss of his task force would severely weaken the federal fleet. Whatever damage he could inflict on the enemy here would be crucial.

  Fighting here would be foolish, but he wasn’t sure he had a choice. He considered the struggle for Alpha-2 to be pointless, the total cost of crushing the rebellion almost certain to exceed the economic value of a valuable, but sure to be devastated, colony. He would have yielded, given the colonists the freedom they so desperately seemed to desire, but he didn’t have the authority to negotiate. Neither did he have permission to engage Union and Hegemony vessels, to risk starting a full-scale war.

  Slowly, reluctantly, he realized he was going to have to do just one of those things, that yielding or fighting and risking the start of a new war were his only choices. And that either of them could effectively be the opening line in his court-martial.

  He hated the idea of backing down, of retreating and leaving the ground troops stranded on the planet. It could be months before the federal high command managed to get enough forces to the system to challenge the combined Union and Hegemony fleet, and the army down there would be cut off from supplies and support that whole time. And if that allied fleet included ground troops, there were greater concerns. Losing Alpha-2 was bad enough, but allowing it to fall into enemy hands . . . that was inconceivable.

  Perhaps there was room for a settlement here. The Union and Hegemony had the advantage at the moment, but he could imagine they wanted total war no more than Federal America.

  “Get me Ambassador Kutusov again.” Taggart didn’t like blinking, calling back the man who’d cut the line, but he wasn’t going to let his pride kill hundreds of his spacers and the troops on the ground. And he had a deal to cut.

  “I have the ambassador, Admiral.” The communications officer was trying to hide the tension in her voice, but not very well.

  “Ambassador . . .”

  “Yes, Admiral?”

  Taggart didn’t think much of diplomats in general, but he was impressed with Kutusov. He had tried to read the ambassador’s earlier words, to determine where serious threats ended and clever bluffing began, but he couldn’t get a feel.

  “Any agreement to withdraw would be contingent upon two stipulations. First, your fleet must take position at the perimeter of the system, and must not approach the planet, nor take any actions toward landing any troops. Second, once your forces have complied with condition one, my fleet will be given time to withdraw the ground forces on Alpha-2.” Taggart hoped he’d convinced Kutusov that he’d just drawn the line he wouldn’t cross, because he was ready to live or die with his conditions. He could not allow enemy forces to land on the planet, and he would not leave the troops down there behind, cut off and ultimately at the mercy of victorious rebels.

  “That is not possible, Admiral. You overstate your position. It would take too long to evacuate, and while I appreciate your efforts to stall and buy time until more federal forces can arrive, I cannot allow it. Your forces must withdraw at once.”

  Taggart stood up, looking around the bridge before he answered. Kutusov had conducted himself brilliantly, but the admiral finally thought he’d caught a hint of weakness in the diplomat’s voice. Kutusov was trying to sound tough, but there was something else there. At least some of what he’d just said was bluff. It was time to match bluff with bluff.

  “Prepare to engage the enemy,” he said, turning toward his comm officer. “All ships are to open fire as soon as the approaching ships come into range.” It was a bluff. Maybe. He honestly wasn’t sure if he’d really allow his vessels to start shooting, but he’d left the comm to Kutusov open intentionally.

  He said nothing further to the Union diplomat, nodding to the comm officer as he stood in the center of the bridge. He wondered if Kutusov would give in, and if not, he tried to decide whether he would back down or follow through. The tension was tight throughout his body, and he walked across the bridge, too wired to sit.

  “Very well, Admiral.” Taggart felt relief, as he realized his opponent was now the one to blink, at least to an extent. “You may load your ground forces, but you must conduct your operation in a mutually agreed-upon manner, and you must complete it in no more than three Earth days’ time. Once you have loaded your ground forces, your ships will withdraw to the transit point, and our forces will leave the system together—minus our trade delegation, of course.”

  “Three days isn’t enough, Ambassador. I will need at least a week to finish the withdrawal operations, perhaps ten days.”

  “Well, you have three, Admiral Taggart. You pushed hard, and I have yielded to your requests, but I have now gone as far as I will. As far as I can. Three days, Admiral.”

  Taggart was far from sure he could complete the withdrawal in such a short time. But now his gut was telling him Kutusov was not lying about the line he’d just drawn in the sand. Perhaps more important, he knew if he had been in the Russian’s position, he would draw the same line. Allowing a longer time simply left too much room for trickery, too much time for federal reserves to arrive . . . or for that monster Semmes to do something truly stupid.

  “Very well, Ambassador. I cannot guarantee that the senate will ratify Alpha-2’s secession from Federal America, but I will withdraw the military forces currently engaged.”

  “Then we have a deal, Admiral Taggart. As I noted, our ambassador to Federal America is about to deliver a proposal to your senate, one that will ensure continued peace between our powers.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, Ambassador, our parameters give me little time to waste. May I suggest that we both cancel the red alerts in effect in our fleets?”

  “By all means, Admiral.” Kutusov could hear Taggart speaking to someone else. A few minutes later, he could see the scanners confirming that the Union and Hegemony ships had powered down their weapons systems. “There, Admiral, an act of good faith on our p
art that I trust you will emulate.”

  Taggart turned toward the comm station. “All ships are to move to status yellow. All weapons system are to disengage.”

  There was a moment of silence. Then Kutusov’s voice resumed on the comm. “Very good, Admiral. We have done humankind a service here today, both of us. Avoiding war is always a worthy goal. I feel we have saved the lives of many thousands, perhaps millions. I thank you for your reason and your wisdom.”

  “And yours, Ambassador.” Taggart was glad at the prospect—far from certain yet—of avoiding war, but he couldn’t be quite as positive about it as his Union counterpart. The enemy had scored a great victory, a humiliation and weakening of their adversary. He could feel good about saving the troops on the ground, about sidestepping the destructive conflict that could so easily have occurred, but he was still presiding over a defeat. Alpha-2 would be the first Earth colony to break away from its parent government, and the loss of the valuable world would weaken Federal America’s edge in the space race.

  Too, while Kutusov had scored a great victory, Taggart knew he’d be lucky to avoid a quick and involuntary retirement himself, if not outright court-martial. Robert Semmes was a miserable son of a bitch, but the maggot knew all about self-preservation, and Taggart was sure his colleague would do everything to push the blame for failure onto anyone else. He might even get away with it.

  He shook his head, wondering what foul fortune had put him in command of this cursed expedition. But it didn’t matter. He was where he was, and he knew what he had to do.

  “Get me General Semmes, Lieutenant.” He suspected dealing with the military governor would be far more unpleasant than his words with Kutusov.

  Chapter 40

  Army Headquarters

  Landfall City

  Federal Colony Alpha-2, Epsilon Eridani II (Haven)

  “No, Admiral Taggart. Need I remind you that you are subject to my command while in this system? This army will not withdraw from Alpha-2, and you will not suffer the presence of enemy warships, much less acquiesce to their demands. Prepare your fleet for battle, Admiral, and take position to defend the planet.”

  Robert Semmes’s heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his pain-wracked head. He was furious, at Taggart, at his father for not providing more troops and support, at Colonel Granz for falling into the rebels’ trap and getting the army badly chopped up. But mostly, though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he was scared. He was afraid of losing the war, of his father giving up on him, casting him from the family. Alistair Semmes was a hard man, one who believed in a level of family loyalty, but also one who lacked the emotional weaknesses that would lead a man to risk everything for the love of a son. The senator would cut him loose at some point, there was no question in his mind about that. And sitting in the capital with the rebel forces camped outside, growing every day as hundreds of volunteers streamed in to join the colors, had to push things close to that mark. Especially with the Union and Hegemony involved now. Semmes didn’t understand politics like his father and brothers, but he knew enough to realize the family would lose support for continuing the fight against the rebels if the cost threatened to be full-scale conflict with the other powers.

  He felt another wave of fury, this time at Taggart for allowing the rebels to get messengers back to Earth. Can’t I rely on that fool for anything?

  Taggart hadn’t responded. Semmes put his hand on his headset. “Admiral, do you hear me?”

  “I hear you, General. What you order is hopeless. If I renege on the agreement with the Union ambassador, their fleet will attack mine, and destroy it. They will then use the opportunity to land an expeditionary force.” A pause. “If we allow the enemy to get boots on the ground, we will never get them off of Alpha-2. At least if we withdraw, the prospect is less dire, a single independent planet, one with no off-world military capability.”

  “You make surrender seem so appealing, Admiral. But it is out of the question.”

  “General, I will not renege on the agreement with the Union and Hegemony forces.”

  “You will do as I command, Admiral.”

  “No, sir. I will not.”

  Semmes’s hands balled up into fists, and he glared across the room. “You are relieved of command, Admiral Taggart. You will turn control of the fleet to Captain Eurace.”

  “Negative, General. I will not. Captain Eurace is with me. All the senior captains are with me. If you insist on ordering us to violate the agreement and engage the enemy fleet, there can only be one result, the destruction of all federal forces in the system, and the occupation of Alpha-2 by Union and Hegemony forces. Such a course of action would be disastrous for Federal America, and as such, I will refuse to follow it, as will the other senior officers of the fleet.”

  Semmes’s anger was hot like a raging sun, but he just stood silent, not knowing what to say. He wanted Taggart dead, and he swore he’d see the mutinous officer—officers—stand before a firing squad. But he didn’t know what to do now. Without the fleet, his forces were cut off from resupply. Worse, if the traitorous admiral pulled his forces away from the planet, he’d be exposed to enemy invasion. He’d watched as Ward’s rebel army had grown, but he’d been well aware that, even after the defeat at Dover, the federal forces, once resupplied and reorganized, could still defeat their enemies. Most of the new strength that had flocked to Ward’s colors was untrained and raw. And they had to be running low on weapons themselves. But without the fleet . . .

  “General Semmes, I have agreed to have all ground forces evacuated within seventy-two Earth hours. That leaves little time to waste. We must begin as soon as possible.”

  “There will be no evacuation.”

  “General . . .”

  “No, Admiral. You may be a coward, too afraid of the enemy to do his duty, but this army will not withdraw. We will not shirk our duty as you have done.”

  “General, if you don’t withdraw, you’re inviting the enemy to land ground forces. You will be facing Union and Hegemony troops as well as the rebels. There is no chance to prevail, and your action will provide the pretext for the Union and Hegemony to land.”

  “You are a gutless traitor, Admiral, who will face execution for your crimes. I understand my duty, and I will see it done. Whatever the cost.”

  “General . . .”

  Semmes just stood there, silent.

  “General, you have to order the evacuation. I have shuttles ready to launch in ten minutes.”

  Nothing.

  “General . . .”

  “Admiral, I will order the ground defenses to engage and shoot down any shuttles you launch. This army will not retreat. We are going to crush this rebellion and reconquer all of Alpha-2. And when we do, you will face cold accountability for your crimes.”

  Semmes cut the line. He had no time for traitors. He, at least, was loyal. He would do his duty.

  He told himself it was courage driving his decision, loyalty. But deep down, some part of him knew it was fear, and in the background, a shadow looking over his thoughts, there was Alistair Semmes, driving a terror that outmatched even that caused by his enemies.

  “Luci, get your people ready. We don’t have a lot of time, and we’ve got to give this our best shot.” Damian stood in his headquarters, an actual building for the first time since his forces had been driven from Landfall. The city was still in federal hands, but his army had occupied some of the outer suburbs and, along with some other advantages, that had brought with it the availability of actual permanent structures.

  “We’ll be ready, General. We’ll have to go in at night. It’s the only way we’ve got a chance to get past their defenses.” Morgan’s voice was grim, the same as Damian’s. Somber tones for a wild gamble—he understood how she felt. The attack was hastily organized and, while not exactly hopeless, not too far from it, either.

  It had all started less than six hours before, when Damian had received an unexpected communication from none other th
an Admiral Taggart, the commander of the federal fleet. Damian had suspected some kind of deceit at first, but as the admiral explained the situation, it all began to make sense. Sasha Nerov and Ambassador Kutusov had done it, somehow. They’d made it to Earth and returned with aid from both the Union and the Hegemony.

  Damian had felt a surge of excitement at the news, but that soon faded as Taggart continued. The federal admiral had been clear. While he couldn’t promise what the senate would do, he was ready to withdraw the federal land forces immediately and to leave the system along with the Union and Hegemony fleets. There was only one problem:

  “I’ve been told in no uncertain terms by Kutusov,” Taggart said, “that failure to remove troops would mean Union and Hegemony troops coming to the aid of their Havenite allies.”

  Which all translated to something Ward had always feared: trading one colonial master for another.

  “We’ll use night as much as we can, Luci, but remember how effective the federals’ infrareds and scanner suites are. Don’t overestimate the cover you’ll have, and don’t forget, you’ll have a lot of inexperienced troops with you.”

  “Sir, about that . . .”

  “I know what you’re going to say, Luci, but forget that right now. You know as well as I do how many of our veterans we lost in our victory. There just aren’t enough of them. Jamie’s barely got eighty of his armored troopers battle-ready, and you’re at, what? Forty percent?”

  “I know, but those colonists are going to get massacred, sir.”

  Damian nodded, an involuntary response that slipped out. His army had swelled to massive proportions, almost twenty thousand Havenites flocking to the colors in the weeks after the victory at Dover. He’d welcomed them all, despite a hint of disrespect for those who’d come only after the army had won a fight, but he hadn’t expected to let any of them near a battle for weeks, if not months. Now there was no choice. If his people couldn’t drive the federals out of the city and compel them to withdraw, his new “allies” would land. That would be useful in defeating the federals, but it was certainly trouble down the line. Not only would the other powers be reluctant to leave, there was no chance the senate would agree to Haven’s independence if they believed it would fall under the control of its enemies.