by Daniel Gibbs
“Take whatever action you deem as necessary.”
“SAR nineteen, this is Black Cat One. I read you loud and clear. ETA in three minutes at max burn. Come to heading 067, and you’ll be aiming right at me.”
Amir instantly recognized the voice of Major Richard Hume, his XO. “Major, do not deviate from mission to assist. Capture of the station remains the utmost priority.”
“Colonel, I’m coming alone. Would you quit being so stubborn? I’m trying to save your life.”
“I appreciate the sentiment,” Amir said. “I don’t want the death of another friend on my conscience.”
“I didn’t realize we were friends, yet,” Hume replied cheerfully. “Hang in there. After the day we’ve had, one League fighter isn’t getting between you and rescue if I have anything to do with it.”
“Thank you.” Amir floated and waited, his mind drifting to his wife and children; wondering if he would ever see them again, he prayed to Allah for deliverance. About the time he finished his prayer, there was a small, bright explosion.
“Major, are you okay?” Amir asked on the commlink, fearing the worst.
“I’m fine, sir. Splash one bandit! SAR nineteen, I’ll fly cover as you recover the Colonel,” Hume answered after a pause that caused Amir’s heart to skip a few beats.
Realizing that today was not the day he was to die left Amir unsettled as he looked out into space; the pleadings of his wife to retire and return to her and their children were at the forefront of his thoughts. Perhaps it’s time to hang up my wings, he pondered as the Jolly Green swooped into view.
The Marines and what was left of Captain Singh’s commandos lined the League prisoners up, hands on top of their heads, with super dense polymer flex-cuffs on each one’s wrist to ensure they were immobilized. Calvin stepped forward, looking down at the rough-looking lot, and cleared his throat. “Who’s the ranking officer here?”
A middle-aged woman with striking features and olive skin spoke up. “Fleet Captain Astrid Monet, League Navy. Serial Number 3613695AF3.”
Calvin strode over to her and nodded to the Marine guard behind her, who roughly lifted her to her feet. “Captain Monet,” he began with mock politeness, “I am Colonel Calvin Demood, Terran Coalition Marine Corps, at your service.”
Astrid looked at Calvin, her eyes flashing hatred. “Then get off my station with your fanatical horde.”
Calvin laughed. “No can do. You see, we’re kicking your rear ends all the way back to Earth. This is just a waypoint. Where’s Admiral Seville?”
“Fleet Captain Astrid Monet, League Navy. Serial Number 3613695AF3.”
“Think you’re going to get away with that?” Calvin asked her in a haughty tone.
“I know all about your Terran Coalition rules. You can’t force me to answer you,” Astrid replied smugly.
“Is that a fact?”
“It’s well known the Terran Coalition doesn’t like to get its hands dirty.”
Calvin smoothly pulled out the sidearm that rested on his leg, racking the action as he raised the weapon, and put it up against Astrid’s temple. “Care to tell me again I won’t get my hands dirty, Captain?”
Astrid laughed in his face. “You’re bluffing.”
“Give me the security codes to this station.”
“No.”
“Do it, or I’ll blow your brains out, right here, right now.”
“If you do, it will accomplish nothing. You won’t have the code.”
“I’m sure one of your officers will give it up after seeing your brains sloshing around on the floor,” Calvin replied, his voice hard and his eyes narrow.
“I’m the only one left alive in this room with the entire access code, Colonel. The League takes security precautions very seriously… you killed my executive officer and our morale officer during the assault on this control center,” Astrid fired back, showing absolutely no fear at the gun pressed against her head.
Calvin jerked up the gun as Astrid smirked. The fleet is in trouble. It doesn’t do any good if I can’t turn this station’s weapons against the enemy ships out there. All the sacrifice of my Marines will be for nothing. Screw that and screw these Leaguers. Looking at the line of League officers, he picked out the one with the next highest rank, a lieutenant commander. “Well, Captain, if your life is of no value, perhaps your officers are.” Setting the gun to the forehead of the man, who started to shake, he glanced back to Astrid. “Give me the code, or he dies.”
“You’re still bluffing, Colonel,” came Astrid’s tight-lipped response.
Without hesitation, Calvin lowered the pistol, aimed at the Leaguer’s right knee, and pulled the trigger. The report of the weapon firing was like a thunderclap in the confines of the control room. A split second later, he fired into the left knee. The man collapsed, screaming in agony. He turned to stare at Astrid, whose face had turned ashen, her mouth agape. “That look like a bluff to you, Captain?”
“You’re a butcher,” Astrid stammered.
“Don’t you dare lecture me about who’s a butcher, you sorry sack of shit! You Leaguers have been killing us for nearly thirty years. You invade our planets, massacre men, women, and children. You’ve killed thousands of the men and women under my command. Screw you, and screw your precious League!” Calvin put the pistol the forehead of the man as he writhed on the deck. “Code, now!”
“Never!” Astrid shouted. “I don’t care what you do, I’ll never give up the code and let you destroy our fleet. That’s bigger than any of us. Do your worst, Coalition!”
Calvin’s finger rested on the trigger, hesitating. Something deep within him wouldn’t let him squeeze, as much as he wanted to. He adjusted his aim to the right and fired a round an inch from the Leaguer’s head that pinged off the deck plate. “Next shot goes in his brain, Captain Monet. You got the balls to watch me kill him, then your entire crew? You’ll be the last one here, and I’ll kill you too.”
A tear ran down Astrid’s cheek. “We serve the League. I will not give you the code. Kill us all. It doesn’t matter.”
Menahem forced his way over to Calvin and whispered loudly in his ear, “Colonel, what the hell are you doing? You can’t torture prisoners of war or threaten to kill them!”
Calvin stared at Menahem with a look of pure hatred. “I’ll do anything I damn well please with these scum, Master Guns. Stand aside.”
“I can’t allow this, sir. Aside from the fact it’s against the law, it’s wrong, sir! We’re better than this.”
“Perhaps you’re right, Master Guns,” Calvin said after a moment. “Where're the environmental controls for the life support on this tub?” The only way to get through to them is to threaten to kill them all.
Taylor pointed to a group of consoles and displays. “Here, sir.”
“Excellent, Lieutenant. Isolate the decks the League controls and vent the atmosphere in them into space.”
“No!” Astrid shouted. “There are twenty thousand people on this station, some of them are civilians!”
“Should have thought of that, Captain,” Calvin replied as he walked to the console that Taylor was standing over. “Lieutenant, let’s purge this station.”
Taylor didn’t move. “Sir, we can’t kill twenty thousand people without at least offering them surrender as an option.”
“You’ll do what I tell you to do, Lieutenant,” Calvin snarled.
“With respect, sir, no, I won’t,” Taylor answered, pulling himself up just a little bit taller. “You’re giving illegal orders. Under the UCMJ, I have no obligation to comply.”
Calvin pushed Taylor to the side and sat down at the console. “Fine, I’ll do it myself.” He began to tinker with the controls, determining how to expose each deck to the vacuum of space. “Last chance, Captain. Order your people to surrender, give me the access code, and you all get to go home someday.”
Astrid didn’t reply; she merely stared at him, her face a mask of blinding rage.
Menahem
had walked up behind Calvin and began to speak. “Colonel, you can’t do this, sir. I won’t allow you.”
“You won’t allow me?” Calvin stood up and violently shoved Menahem away. “I’m the one giving orders here, Master Guns. If you can’t obey them, surrender your weapon and go stand with the enemy!”
“Sir!” Taylor shouted. “Please, sir, there’s a better way. Let me and some of the technical guys get set up. We’ll hack the control system. Just give us some time to do it the right way.” His right hand rested on his sidearm.
Calvin glanced from the hand to Taylor’s face. “If you're thinking about drawing on me, Lieutenant, I’d make sure to do it when my back’s turned. I can outfight you any day, and I’ll kill you just the same.”
“As the highest ranking officer in this room, I’m relieving you of command, sir. Stand down.”
“I don’t think so, Taylor.”
“He’s right, sir. This has gone far enough,” Menahem interjected.
Why can’t they see it’s the only way? “You want me to stop? Shoot me.” Calvin punched the final control to start the atmosphere vent.
Astrid watched in horror as the large bank of flat panel screens began to show security device transmissions from the deck below them. Anyone who wasn’t in combat armor began to fall over, clutching at their throats and grabbing at whatever was near them from lack of oxygen. “Stop! I’ll unlock the system, stop!”
Calvin locked eyes with her as he reversed the sequence. “Get her up. Any tricks, and we’ll start over, Captain.”
The figures on the monitors stopped clutching their throats and slowly returned to normal. There was extreme tension in the control room as Marines glanced at each other, unsure of what they’d just witnessed.
With a posture and pose that betrayed her resignation, Astrid inserted a security card, entered her access code, scanned her palm, and unlocked the primary systems. As soon as she had completed the sequence, the young Marine pulled her back from the input station. “It’s done, Colonel. Congratulations on being as ruthless as your propaganda claims we are.”
“Get the League trash out of my sight, Master Guns,” Calvin said in Menahem’s direction. “Lieutenant Taylor, get on comms and let General Cohen know we’ve taken the station and have control of its weapons systems. Then have Captain Monet here order her comrades to surrender.”
Menahem cleared his throat. “Colonel Demood, I will follow your orders. I must inform you I’ll be forced to report what happened here to the Judge Advocate General for investigation under the UCMJ.”
Taylor was silent; he took his station and seemed to focus solely on the work.
Calvin couldn’t find the words to reply to Menahem. As his actions caught up with him, the first crack of doubt appeared in his mind. Did I go too far? Am I truly capable of doing anything in pursuit of victory? Was it worth it?
36
Simultaneously, on the bridge of the Lion of Judah, David gripped the sides of his chair with such force, his knuckles hurt. The anti-matter reactor had just come back online; while running on backup fusion power, the mighty warship was a shell of its average combat effectiveness. Since sending Seville’s strike force running, they’d stayed in the rear, waiting for temporary repairs to be completed. The League ships that jumped in behind them had been nibbling at their heels, but the combined CDF/RSN fleet kept the range open and slowly closed in on Unity Station.
This tactic is only going to work for so long. At some point, I have to turn around and engage the League fleet or pick up our Marines and get the hell out of here. “TAO, distance between enemy battleships and our rearguard?”
“Roughly fifteen thousand kilometers, sir,” Ruth said.
“Conn, communications!” The still unfamiliar voice of Second Lieutenant Jefferson Bell, the backup communications officer, interjected, “I’ve got Colonel Demood for you, sir.”
“Put him through to my viewer, Lieutenant.”
A moment later, Calvin’s face was displayed above him. “General Cohen, good to see you, sir.”
“Same here, Colonel. What’s the word?” David replied. He could see consoles and many friendlies behind the tough Marine, but wasn’t sure where he was broadcasting from.
“Coming to you live from Unity Station’s control room, sir. I have full control of the station’s weapons systems and shields. We’re mopping up the last resistance, and the flag has been raised.”
David’s eyes opened as wide as they possibly could; of all the things he had been hoping for, this wasn’t one he had even allowed himself to conceive of. “Outstanding work, Colonel! What’s the status of those weapon systems?”
“Fully charged, no munitions expended. We’ve got full run of them.”
“We could lure the League fleet into range,” Aibek mused.
“Yeah, but it’s got to look good. Seville is no slouch.”
“Colonel, we’re going to execute a flank run at the station. What I want you to do is open fire on us as we range; be very careful not to take down friendly ships but make sure you make it look legit.”
“You got it, General. Anything else?”
“Once we’ve drawn the League in, we’ll about-face, open up with everything we’ve got, and you join in.”
Calvin grinned fiercely. “One destroyed League fleet, coming right up, sir.”
“Godspeed, Colonel.”
“You too,” Calvin replied before the connection cut off.
“You heard the man,” David said to the bridge at large. “Communications, signal the fleet to move in, flank speed.”
“Aye aye, sir!” Jefferson said.
“Navigation, intercept course, Master One.”
“Aye aye, sir, intercept course set.”
“Navigation, engage flank speed!”
The Lion shuddered as it accelerated; David could almost hear the engines straining at maximum power. As he watched the plot intently, there were orders and replies over the next few minutes as the fleet sped up and closed in on the massive League space station. To his relief, the League ships took the bait; they too matched flank speed and closed in on the depleted CDF/RSN formations. This is going to be close.
“Conn, TAO! Entering weapons range of Master One.”
“Acknowledged, TAO. Firing point procedures. Target Master One with neutron beams and forward magnetic cannons.”
“Firing solutions set, sir.”
“Match bearings, shoot, all weapons.”
A massive salvo thundered out from the Lion, her magnetic cannons and neutron emitters speaking as one, the shots impacting on the League stations shields. Other ships in the fleet also opened fire, but only a few used missile inventories; holding on to those munitions would be key to turning the tables on their pursuers. David continued to watch as the range closed with the pursuing League ships.
“Perhaps we should slow down, let them catch up to us?” Aibek said.
“That might look a bit suspect, XO.”
“If we don’t slow down, we’ll ram the station.”
“Fair. Navigation, slow us to ahead two-thirds. Communications, signal the fleet to match our speed.”
As the fleet slowed down, the League of Sol ships behind them entered into weapons range. Long-range plasma cannon fire began to pelt the vessels to the rear of the allied formation while the vessels that had aft-facing weaponry returned it gamely. Few ships were lost on either side. Meanwhile, the range closed to within one thousand kilometers of Unity Station. Now…now we’ve got them.
“Navigation, maximum reserve thrust, hard-a-starboard! Bring us about and present our forward arc to the enemy.”
“Aye aye, sir!” Hammond answered.
“Communications, signal the fleet to match our maneuvers.”
“Aye aye, sir!” Jefferson called back.
“TAO, engage tactical network, task the fleet to engage targets closest to them!”
“Yes, sir, tactical network engaged, transmitting weapons-free orders to
all fleet echelon leaders.”
David sat back in his chair, staring one more time at the tactical plot. The League outer band of escorts were firmly in range, while the capital ships beyond were more cautious and had slowed. “TAO, firing point procedures, target Master Two-hundred-seventy and Two-hundred-seventy-five with neutron emitters and magnetic cannons.”
“Firing solutions set, sir.”
“Match bearings, shoot, all weapons.”
A volley of fire raced out from the Lion of Judah, targeting an unfortunate pair of Rand class cruisers. Already weakened from previous exchanges with the allied fleet, high explosive magnetic cannon rounds hammered down their shields, and neutron beams wrecked the ships from bow to stern. They were left as drifting wrecks, spurting fire into the zero-G vacuum of space. Ships throughout the fleet fired on the incoming League forces, exacting a heavy price from the enemy. Not to be outdone, the League ships opened fire with their weapon suites. Inbound missiles and plasma cannon shots filled the void and destroyed more friendly vessels; each side took a beating.
“Conn, TAO. CSV Roger Hamilton destroyed, sir,” Ruth called out, wincing as another escort vessel was erased from her plot.
“Steady, Lieutenant.”
“Conn, TAO! Aspect change, League battleships. They’re closing in, sir!”
“Estimated time to them ranging Unity’s weapons arrays?” David asked.
“Thirty seconds at range of approach, sir.”
David nodded. “Very good. Communications, signal Colonel Demood that in forty seconds, he is authorized for weapons free. His lead targets are the five Alexander class battleships approaching our battle line and the escorts directly protecting them. After that, take out anything left in range.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Jefferson said.
David stood up and walked behind Ruth’s console, staring down at her specialized tactical readout showing both battle lines. “TAO, show me the location of the Annihilator,” David commanded.
Ruth glanced at David quickly before tapping at her console; the display zoomed out to show a group of contacts set back from the main League force. “Here, sir. She’s sitting in the rear.”
