Traitor's Duty

by Richard Tongue

   “Technically I haven’t completed the fighter training course, sir, but I think I can handle it.”

   He nodded, and said, “I’ve seen you fly, and given what you’ve sacrificed to join us, I rather think that letting you ride fire is the least I can do. Go report to Senior Lieutenant Dixon, she’ll get you checked out on our kit and integrated into the squadron formation.”

   “Thank you, sir,” she said, saluting.

   “Any time.” He rose from his desk, following her from the room, stepping out onto the bridge. Evidently the distaste at what he was about to do showed. Caine rose from her station, moving over to him.

   “Want some company in your trip to the sewer?”

   “I’ll take you up on that.”

   The two of them stepped into the elevator, and Caine said, “You don’t have to speak to him at all. I think we both know what he’ll say. An appeal to patriotism, some sort of arrogant attempt at bluster, and a refusal to say anything specific. Just like Frank Rogers.”

   “Frank was different,” Marshall replied. “On some level, I still consider him a friend, strange as it sounds. He had my back often enough during the war, and I just find all of this so unbelievable. Watson? I’ve got no history with him.” He balled his hands into fists, and said, “Maybe I feel a little more open about what I can say.”

   “Be careful, Danny,” Caine warned. “We’re already perilously close to the line. The way you are talking right now, you’re dangerously close to crossing it.”

   He glared at her, and said, “They’ve done a damn sight more than crossing a line, Deadeye.”

   “Is that any excuse for us to?”

   Taking a deep breath, he replied, “It makes me angry, damn it. I thought this uniform meant something, I thought that it was a symbol of something better than we once were. I’ve told people out there that the Confederation is not an expansionist power, that it is not out to conquer the galaxy, and these bastards are making a liar out of me.”

   “I know, Danny, I know,” she said. “That’s why we’re trying to stop them, isn’t it? To prove that it is more than just words.”

   The elevator reached their destination, and the doors slid open, admitted them to the brig level. A pair of Espatiers snapped to attention as they approached, saluting the approaching officers; Marshall returned the salute.

   “No trouble?” he asked.

   “None, sir. They’re being quiet enough.”

   “Good,” he replied. “I want to speak to Watson.”

   One of the guards went over to a panel while the other asked, “Which of us do you want with you, sir?”

   “Neither, Private. Lieutenant Caine and I can handle ourselves quite well.”

   “I’m certain of that, sir, but Ensign Cooper left orders that no-one was to enter the prisoners’ cells without escort. I think he was concerned about people taking action on their own initiative.”

   Caine glanced at Marshall, then said, “Do you honestly think that the Captain and I fit into that category?”

   “No, ma’am, I don’t.”

   “Then by all means,” Marshall said, “please wait in the corridor. I imagine that you will be able to respond at once if needed.”

   “Before you finish asking, sir,” the trooper said, and Marshall stepped into the cell, followed by Caine. Watson sat slumped on the far side of the room, barely seeming to acknowledge their entrance, until the door slammed closed.

   “Let’s talk about a deal,” Watson said, looking up.

   “You aren’t in any position to offer me anything,” Marshall said, “except testimony that I have no intention of trusting.”

   “Then why are you in this cell?” he replied. “I’ll give you a signed confession, complete with all the details you could ask for, in exchange for being left behind here at Spitfire Station. I guarantee that you will never see me again.”

   “That quick?” Caine asked. “You turn traitor that quickly?”

   “By your judgment, I already am a traitor, aren’t I? Should you be surprised that I change sides once again?” He leaned forward, and said, “I promise you that my testimony will satisfy everything beyond your wildest dreams, and my disappearance should strengthen your case even further. Were you actually answering to any higher authority at the moment, I imagine that you would face censure for letting a criminal escape, but let’s be honest, you’re the one making the decisions.”

   Marshall turned to Caine, briefly tempted to take the man up on his offer. As tempting as it would be to see him rot in a detention facility for the rest of his life, it was a pretty impressive plea bargain.

   “I don’t buy it,” Caine said. “A few hours ago you were calling on us to surrender. Was that some sort of bluff? And your actions while you briefly sullied Alamo with your presence don’t really fill me with any confidence.”

   “Take this any way you like,” he replied, folding his arms.

   “No,” Marshall replied, “Should your side win, then you’d be left hanging. They’d want your hide for testifying.”

   Watson smiled, and said, “I’m counting on your abilities to prevent that from happening. I have confidence in you, Captain, and in your impending flight to Mars. I just don’t want to be a part of it.”

   “There’s something else, isn’t there,” Caine said. “Something you aren’t telling us.”

   Leaning back against the wall, Watson replied, “I’ve offered you my testimony. About all of it, names, places, dates. You have to decide whether your revenge against me is worth sacrificing that.”

   With a smile, Marshall replied, “I’ll offer you a letter of amnesty, signed by myself and the other senior staff that will clear you of this whole affair and allow you to continue your career. On the condition that you testify to the Senate in person.”

   “No deal,” he replied. “I want off this ship, right now. I need plenty of time to get clear before the dust settles. And no, I have no intention of telling you where I plan to go.”

   Marshall glanced at Caine, then said, “You don’t think we’re going to get to Mars. There’s something out there to stop us, something that will prevent us getting back with our testimony. It doesn’t matter what you tell us if there is no way we are going to be able to deliver it.”

   His voice laced with sarcasm, he replied, “Are you telling me that the great Captain Daniel Marshall can’t get past a little thing like a Triplanetary trap? You certainly managed to dance around the Cabal effectively enough.” Shaking his head, he continued, “I would have thought that you would have been one of the ones wanting a war, or is it just that you don’t want to get your precious hands dirty?”

   “Only a fool seeks war,” Marshall said.

   Looking him in the eyes, Watson replied, “I’m fighting for the Confederation, damn it, and if that means a pre-emptive strike to win the war, I’m happy with that.”

   “Pearl Harbor,” Marshall replied. “That worked out very well for the Japanese, didn’t it. Do you really want to commit us to something like that?”

   “I’ve got news for you, Captain, you’ve already done it when you attacked Hades Station.”

   Standing up, Marshall said, “Watson, you’re going to be with us when we reach Mars. You might want to consider that any trap that destroys us is going to take you down as well. If you want to tell me what’s waiting for us at the far end of this journey, contact the guards and let them know you want to see me.” Turning to the door, he finished, “Otherwise I don’t see much point in our continuing this conversation, do you?”

   Marshall and Caine knocked twice on the cell door. As it slid open, Watson looked up for a second as if considering finally talking, but shook his head and remained silent. Once the door was closed safely behind them, Caine placed her hand on Marshall’s shoulder.

   “The battleships.”

   “I was thinking the same thing,”
Marshall replied. “Then I dismissed it. They can’t actually attack another Triplanetary vessel, can they?”

   “If they’ve got control of the media, they can make up any story they like and make it stick. Claim it was an accident, that there was a mutiny on board, anything they want.” She looked up at him, and said, “You know already that they were willing to let us die at Hades. That’s why Frank Rogers is in the brig next door to Watson. Why not take this step for their glorious cause? In their eyes, we’re just another group of people dying for the Confederation.”

   Marshall took a deep breath, and replied, “Most of the crew have seen these new ships, and our tactical database has a lot of information on them. I want a full tactical briefing on tackling them by the time we enter hendecaspace. Draw on anyone you want for the analysis, and make it good.”

   “I’ll get right on it,” she said, heading for the elevator. Pausing, she continued, “I never thought that I’d be doing one of these on a Triplanetary capital ship.”

   “I never thought I’d be ordering one,” Marshall replied.

  Chapter 18

   Cooper pushed his empty plate into the middle of the table, then looked around the empty mess, finally turning his attention back to his wife.

   “Funny having the whole place to ourselves,” he said.

   “That’s what comes of operating with a skeleton crew,” she replied, taking a bite of reprocessed salad. “I wish the Captain had at least let us top up on fresh food before we left. Alamo’s been out for four months, and it’s really beginning to show.” Making a face, she said, “This lettuce tastes like chicken.”

   He smiled, then said, “Everything does in this galley.” The two laughed together, then he added, “Thanks for coming out here.”

   “I should have gone with you in the first place, and to hell with flight school.” She shrugged, and said, “I’m ten years too old to take real advantage of it anyway. Only seven years before I’ll need a waiver to fly.”

   “Captain Marshall would give you one.”

   “He won’t always be my commanding officer. In fact, I’d lay reasonable odds that he won’t be in the service for much longer.”

   Frowning, Cooper said, “If you think that…”

   “I knew that I was throwing my career away when I went AWOL. Don’t worry about it. Hopefully the two of us will at least avoid jail time.” She looked him up and down, and said, “After all, you’re a big hero now. Winner of the Second Battle of Hades Station.”

   “That’s a lot of crap.”

   “You wait until the press get hold of you. They’re going to want to salvage something from this mess. As for me, well, I’ve got the honorary Ragnarok citizenship that seems to be a common factor for everyone involved in this.” She pulled a badge out of her pocket, waving it in front of him, and said, “I’ve got the membership card and everything.”

   “There really wasn’t any choice.”

   “You volunteered. So did I. Maybe you’re right, and there really wasn’t any choice, not for us. Maybe we’ve been serving on this ship for too long, been out in deep space too long, under the same commanding officer for too damn long.” She looked down at her half-eaten dinner, and said, “Maybe Captain Marshall’s navy isn’t the same as the Triplanetary Fleet.”

   “I’d hate to think that.”

   “Perhaps the time has come for us to face it, as uncomfortable as we might feel about it. I don’t like it, I hate it, but back home...back home the politicians are baying for blood, and all of this is just an excuse. We’re going to make the galaxy safe for democracy, and we’re going to do it at the point of a gun. If they have their way, we’ll never be done fighting.”

   Shaking his head, Cooper replied, “There’s always a choice, Barbara, and we’ve made it. If the people want a war, then they’ll get it. The Cabal will only be too happy to oblige.”

   “And what about us?”

   “There’s always Ragnarok. Or further out, to the Perimeter.”

   “The UN Trust Territories?” She replied, scowling. “Please.”

   “Beyond that,” he said. “I hear that there are people pushing out that way, even colonies. Hell, it’s only a matter of time before we set up new ones ourselves.”

   “There were people talking about it before I left.”

   “Maybe that’s the answer.”

   Shaking her head, she replied, “Do you honestly think that we can run away from our responsibilities, just like that?”

   “Why not?” Cooper said. “No-one can say that we haven’t done our bit. Besides, the damn politicians sent us out to die. They trawled through the training program for the dregs and threw them at the Cabal as cannon fodder.” A bitter smile crossed his face, and he continued, “We won anyway, despite them, not because of them. Despite being given a fool as our mission commander, and a bigger one commanding our Espatier forces. They wanted some glorious defeat, but we went off-script and gave them a victory. A damn expensive one.”

   “It must have been terrible.”

   “Kids, Barbara. Just a bunch of kids. Not even as prepared as we were the first time around. They didn’t know what they were getting into, but they found out quickly enough.” He looked up, as though beyond the hull, and continued, “Most of them worked it out as they took their last breath.”

   “It wasn’t your fault.”

   Turning abruptly to face her, he said, “Of course it was my fault! I was in command, and it was my job to look after them. I spent their lives like water, watched half my platoon die, and hell, we had a good casualty ratio!”

   “No-one forced them to sign up, Gabe. No-one made them put on the uniform, and they knew that when they enlisted, it might mean that they were called upon to sacrifice their lives. They did it anyway.”

   “Sacrificing their lives is one thing, but this mission was designed to throw them away! That’s why they picked Hades Station, because we’d been given a bloody nose there before and they were counting on the Cabal to do it to us again.” Shaking his head, he said, “We should have aborted the mission right at the start. And you know the craziest thing of all? Most of my platoon – the survivors of that fight – are down in the barracks right now ready to do it all over again.”

   “I guess they trust you.”

   “They haven’t got any sane basis for that decision! I got their friends killed, injured, some of them crippled for life. They’re going to live with the consequences of my mistakes.”

   “Tell me something,” she said, softly. “Say you had refused to go, maybe even got yourself thrown into the brig for insubordination. What would have been different? They’d have still gone in, wouldn’t they, but under a different commander. Someone less experienced, who would have done a worse job.” Leaning forward, she said, “They might have lost the whole platoon, and failed to pull off a miracle and complete the mission to boot. As it is, those sacrifices at least were worth something.”

   “And if Newton throws all of that away at the peace talks?”

   “Then they died to buy peace for everyone else, and isn’t that why we’re out here? So that everyone back home can rest easy at night?” She shook her head, smiled, and said, “We have a honeymoon that lasted a grand total of three hours, haven’t seen each other for two months, and this is the best conversation we can have?”

   “I’m sorry,” he replied. “I’m not very good company, I know. I guess all of this is beginning to get to me.”

   “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “That’s what I’m here for. I had a word with the Captain, by the way. He approved me for fighter duty.”

   “That’s great!” Cooper said, forcing a smile.

   “Beats sitting around on the bridge,” she replied. “I might stick with shuttles though, long-term. Hell, Alamo hasn’t had a deck officer since Captain Marshall fired the one he found when he first arrived. Maybe I could have that job.�
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   “What?”

   “Apparently he was working for the Callistan Patrol, making sure the ship was nicely stripped of spare parts before it was handed over to the Triplanetary Fleet.”

   “That was three years ago,” he said, shaking his head. “They never got a replacement?”

   “The berth was always being filled with someone else. Admin Officer, Science Officer, and I guess no-one ever made it enough of a priority, and Fleet never pushed it for some reason.”

   “Probably because they were too busy assigning Science Officers to warships.” He sighed, then said, “I’d far rather have one on board now, be heading back out to the frontier again. I guess that’s turning into the common dream around here.”

   “We can do that. Once all this is over,” she said. “The two of us could gang up on your uncle and get him to finance us for an expedition. Since Cornucopia collapsed, there are quite a few hendecaspace-capable ships going cheap.”

   He smiled, then said, “I don’t think my back pay would come close to covering it, but a little bit of trade pioneering might be fun. One thing we do know is that there are a lot of surprises out there, a lot of worlds waiting to be contacted. More than we could ever have dreamed of.”

   “See, it was worth it.” She looked around the room, then said, “We’ve opened up the damn galaxy, Gabe. Hundreds, thousands of stars out there waiting to be reached, pioneered, explored, and we’re going to get to do it. Never mind what’s happening now, this is something to be endured and suffered through. The recruiting poster promised strange new worlds, and I aim to collect.”

   “Something to look forward too. I’d guess we’ll get a lot of volunteers from the crew if it came to it, as well. Especially if we’re going to have to get used to civilian clothes again when this mission’s over.”

   “You were dreading that before,” she said.

   “Maybe I’m almost looking forward to it now.” He looked down at his shoulder, at the simple metal insignia, and said, “I never thought about being an officer. Never even occurred to me that I might do it. I’d have been perfectly happy just to stay as a Private, maybe try for promotion to Lance-Corporal, maybe Corporal. Being the one who gives the orders…”