"Reading ship identifiers now." The woman looked up with confusion. "Sirs, they're… they're League warships."
Rousseau showed surprise. Antoine almost chuckled at that, and the grin that split his face only confused them all further.
"Transmission from the League ships."
"Put them on."
Aristide's voice filled the bunker. "I am Commander Yvette Aristide of the League of Sol. Hestia. We have come to aid you in repelling these Coalition-backed radicals that threaten your government."
The surprise didn't depart Rousseau's face. Antoine patted him on the shoulder. "See, General? We're going to win this after all."
46
The new contacts glowed hostile crimson on the tactical holotank on the Liberator bridge. Henry noted their position at the lunar L5 point: with their military drives, even the older ones, they'd be in combat range within the hour. Even the Sisters' remaining warships won't do too well against these odds. We need to engage them out of range of the support fleet. Aloud, he asked Vidia, "What's the status of the other cruiser?"
"Impériale is about to launch," Vidia confirmed. "Captain Trang has chosen the new name Independence for the ship."
"Then have them meet up with us before we engage the League. Let Tia know we have to break off orbital support for now."
"Sendin' her the word."
"I've got us on course t' meet up with th' Independence," Cera added. "Though they might already have us under fire by then."
"We'll have to risk it." Henry turned toward Piper. "What can you tell me about the League force?"
"Eight frigates, eight destroyers, and four cruisers, plus what looks like ten transports. They're like the ones we shot down over Monrovia a couple years ago, but the silhouettes are different. These have weapon turrets."
"Troop transports." Henry frowned. He wouldn't put it past the League to arrange to keep troops on standby for a project they valued highly. League troops could still turn the tide here. We can't let them land. "Can you get me class identification on the warships?"
"I'm using the database Rigault installed in the sensor systems." One by one, the systems identified the ships in question. "Looks like older models. One Rand, but the other three cruisers are Humphrey-type. Python-type destroyers and Charger-class type frigates."
Older models. I used to fight those types back in the CDF, when they were reserve units, even then. Given how many ships they've lost these last few years, and their ruined shipyards, it's no surprise they're calling in older ships for this kind of op.
They were old, and the muonic guns and neutron cannons would do a lot of damage, but quantity was still a quality of its own. Nor could there be any doubt that Aristide's forces were trained veterans of the League fleet while his crews were mostly untried at this kind of space combat.
On that matter, he asked, "Miri, can you classify targets with these systems? I'd hope Rigault's people went that far?"
After a moment, she nodded. "Looks like I can. Designating Targets One through Thirty."
"You mean Master One through Thirty, right?"
"That's not what the system's calling it." As she spoke, the holotank provided those designations.
"We're receivin' a signal from the League flagship," Vidia said.
"Go ahead and put them on."
This time, the display beside him changed to show Commander Aristide. She still had the same cold haughtiness he remembered from Lusitania. "James Henry, formerly of the Shadow Wolf."
"That's me," he answered.
Her lip curled into a slight, expectant grin. "If you surrender, you and your crew will live, and find new purpose in Society."
"You mean you'll stick that implant on our spines and make us into drones. No thanks."
"Then I get to carry out your termination order myself." With that, the call ended.
"They really do never get over being beaten," Piper sighed.
"Full combat burn, Cera." He kept his voice firm at giving the order. "I want to catch them as far from the support fleet as we can."
"Full burn, aye."
Here we go, he thought. The kind of battle every CDF commander dreads, and the one we're not supposed to turn away from. Lord Almighty, help us out here.
* * *
The makeshift labs on the Rigault Lunar Station included a surgical theater. Oskar found that it was sufficient to his needs, if still lacking compared to a proper facility.
To help him, he had Brigitte, working as a makeshift nurse and clad in scrubs, while other Hestians aided as necessary. His current patient was a girl of about nine standard years. The child slumbered peacefully through the procedure while Oskar delicately opened the back of her neck with a scalpel. The implant was easily found, connected to her spine and the nerves with a thoroughness he could see was Jan's handiwork. She's just a child, Jan. A child! Her nervous system is still growing. The damage you could do…
He stopped himself from further recrimination. With great care, he used a smaller laser cutter to remove the implant. Some of the wiring couldn't be taken out with his available equipment, but without the implant, it was vestigial and could be removed at a later, safer time. The important thing, he thought, is getting these things out. I have to undo what Jan did with my creation.
Just the thought brought back to his mind the rows of dead, comatose, and catatonic patients in the other room. Despite the very real truth of Jan's betrayal, he felt a measure of responsibility for their suffering. I knew Society was not the ideal I was raised to believe. How could I not realize that my work would be perverted this way? I should have known. The camps should have told me everything I needed to know…
Oskar took a breath and re-focused. He had a patient to save.
It took another five minutes of careful, delicate work, but he removed the implant from the child without complications. The surgical cut was deep enough that dermal regeneratives weren't enough by themselves, so he sutured the cut closed before applying the regenerative patch. He nodded to the Hestian woman at the door, one of the unimplanted prisoners who was functioning as an orderly. "Please take her to the others. She will remain unconscious for a time and will awaken with no pain."
The woman smiled and nodded before wheeling the little girl out.
Brigitte's eyes focused on him. "Oskar, you need a rest," she said. "You've been at this for hours."
"I know," he sighed. His hands quivered now that they were free of the precise control needed for the operation. He set his laser scalpel down on the tray and joined her in leaving for the moment. They walked into the nearby patient ward where the unconscious victims remained. "I'm going to need some food, and a new battery for the laser scalpel," he said to Brigitte. "As well as the gloves. Can you find some?"
"Probably in the infirmary if they don't have any more here," she remarked. "I'll be right back. You stay here and get some rest."
"I will," he promised.
There was skepticism in her eyes, but she accepted the pledge and departed.
Oskar watched her go and drew in a breath. She was trying to look out for him, of course. We came together over this. Fitting we're here at the end of it.
The thought occurred to him that there might be a bladed scalpel to use as well. It would serve as a backup should no battery be found. He walked back into the surgical theater and went over to the tray. "Ah." He reached down and picked up the small metal blade with his right hand. It was as his fingers wrapped around the handle that his eyes noticed something was off about the tray.
The laser scalpel was gone.
A cold tinge of metal pressed against his throat. He felt breath on the back of his neck, unsteady and labored.
A voice from his past spoke. "Oskar, my old friend."
"Jan." Oskar sighed. "What are you doing?"
"Saving our work," he replied. "Saving the last hope for our galaxy."
* * *
In the command center on the San Papa Gregorius, Tia felt a particular frus
tration. The League's arrival placed their efforts in extreme jeopardy, especially if they landed with enough troops. All I can do is watch and hope Jim can stop them.
There were other problems as well. "With the losses we've sustained, the advance is slowing," Sarno remarked quietly from her place at the holotank. She seemed almost serene, if not for the intensity in her eyes. Her order might very well suffer its gravest defeat in history if the League prevailed in orbit, and that showed in the way she was looking at everything.
"And we've lost the cruisers' bombardment to help push everywhere." Tia looked over the map. They'd already linked up with cells of the Hestian revolutionaries in the slums. A third of Thyssenbourg was now completely under their control, and they were poised to take half of it if they kept advancing. But we can't advance on all fronts now. "They are surrendering more often, at least."
"Not enough, if we want to end this killing quickly." Sarno shook her head. "Rigault will dig his forces in deeper and draw in more reinforcements with each lost hour."
"I know. He'll never give up the capital." I hope he doesn't. I want the bastard caught! She surveyed the map. Her eyes spied where the Thanh River made a westward curve through the heart of the city, forming the core of the government district with the commercial district—with the HBC building—beside it. Their positions were not far from it…
"You have an idea?" Sarno asked. "You have that look in your eye."
"Yeah. The best way to end this is to take the heart of the city," she said. She traced her finger over the holographic representation on the table. "We'd control the main throughways and the river. And we could even capture the HBC itself, not to mention their military command, if our forces can get through before they evacuate."
"They'll expect a direct attack."
"Yeah. But here." She ran a finger along the eastern side of the city core. "Going by the resistance they're showing, a lot of their forces here are stretched out. If we hit hard enough, we could break through into the blocks leading northwest into the core."
"We can bring up our reserve." Sarno indicated the position of the units in question. They consisted of a couple of companies of the Sisters who had yet to be on the front, a company of Lou's own forces, and the gathering Thyssenbourg cells of the Hestian Liberation Forces. "With the forces on site, we might force the way open."
Neither had to remark on the fact that they were throwing the dice on this. If the reserve was chewed up, they had no further reserves and were not likely to get any further reinforcement.
"We'll need to push hard." Tia stepped away from the table. A part of her wanted to go and join the charge herself. To lead her people, and their allies, to show she was as ready to fight for their world as any of them.
Sarno's eyes focused on her, sharp as daggers. It was clear the old woman knew precisely what she was thinking, and was more than ready to argue against it.
"We need everything in this attack," Tia insisted. "Something to rally them."
"That is not you."
Tia pursed her lips. She thought of an argument to make. Before she could finish said thought, however, Yanik spoke up. "It is known by many that I am your comrade and shipmate. I will lead the attack."
She stared at him with worry. "Your shoulder's a mess. You can't carry a weapon."
"I can manage an assault rifle," he replied. "That will suffice."
You're in no shape to fight! Tia wanted to shout at him. But the way his yellow eyes focused on her face made it impossible for her to say so. There was a need in those alien eyes, something like what she imagined she had when her own life was turned upside down by the failure of the last revolution. In your own way, you feel as cooped up as I do, don't you?
With that in mind, Tia nodded. "Alright. Go ahead. The reserves are yours."
He nodded. "I will lead them away now. If the Divine wills it, I will see you again when we have the city center under control."
"Go with God," Sarno said.
The big Saurian clearly had nothing else to say. He turned and headed for the exit, his tail lightly swishing in either direction.
* * *
The icons on the holotank showed the blue of the Independence drawing into range of Henry's own ship and the accompanying Avenger and Triumphant. Trang reported the ship's partial unreadiness by text report, with reduced stores for the point-defense weapons and two of the muonic turrets inoperable on top of the two not yet installed. He accepted those limitations, as it still meant a third ship in the fight. At least their deflectors were finished.
The League attack began as the cruisers moved into firing range of one another. The frigates and destroyers dashed ahead of the League cruisers. Missiles erupted from their launchers and bore down on the four ships. In quantity, the attack exceeded that of the earlier attack craft.
The cruisers responded with their point-defense fire. Again the spread rounds created cordons of metal that the missiles couldn't breach without damage, taking out several. The incoming missile salvo gradually reduced.
Had the Independence been properly armed, the combined fire might have utterly stopped the attack. But it wasn’t, and as such, a number of missiles poured through to attempt terminal runs. Only now did Independence engage with her CIWS—Close-In Weapons System—auto-turrets.
It wasn't enough. Each cruiser took a few impacts. Even before the rattling stopped, Henry asked, "Squadron status."
"No direct hits; the deflectors took them all," Piper said.
Henry refrained from criticism. He'd wanted Vidia to confirm damage reports from the other ships, not for Piper to scan them. They're not CDF; they don't know how this works, he reminded himself. You're not CDF anymore either. His attention returned to the holotank. The missile attack wasn't being followed up. He wondered why, at least until he noted the enemy formation. The transports were still burning for the planet while the military League ships maneuvered nearby.
"Why aren't they screening those transports?" Piper asked. "Aren't they afraid we'll go after them?"
"You'd think so, but Aristide isn't a line officer. She won't think like one," Henry pointed out.
"She's a security operative," Miri said. "One experienced with going after insurgencies and breaking them up."
"We're not quite the same…" Henry spoke those words while observing the League maneuvers. You go after insurgents by breaking up their support in a population. You lure them into traps by misdirection. You attack things they have to defend.
He tracked the course Aristide's ships would take if they kept their heading. The warships would be in range to fire on the support fleet for a time, but they weren't on course for orbit like the transports. They'd pose a threat, but not as great of one. She's not worried about Thyssenbourg, or the fleet. What is she after?
His focus came on what followed. He traced a line in his mind, following the League ships on their course and what their positioning would be…
"The moon."
"And the station," Miri added. "Breivik's research is there."
"That's what she wants."
"If we burn hard for the transports, we can get in and do some damage, but they can maneuver and cut us off from the others," Piper said.
"If those transports land, this entire invasion fails," Miri said.
"They won't." Henry keyed the squadron command channel. "This is Captain Henry to all ships. Follow us in. Direct firepower on those transports."
Cera took the lead in pushing the Liberator's engines to full.
The League ships didn't take long to react. This time, the cruisers joined the missile bombardment and Henry cursed Rigault's decision not to employ similar missile launchers on his cruisers. Given the angle and range, fire from the muonic cannons would be fairly inaccurate, but a few hits were better than none. "Firing point procedures, target…" He caught himself again. "Focus fire on their cruisers. They'll be the easiest to hit at these ranges."
"Locking on now."
The working turre
ts on all four Rigault cruisers began to move, tracking their distant targets. Pale colorless light rippled from them, sending concentrated, energized muons to cut through the deflectors of the enemy.
The League ships began evasive maneuvers while maintaining their formations. They managed few hits, even with their volume of fire, as the range was still over two hundred thousand kilometers.
As they burned in, Henry noted the positioning of the enemy ships. I was wrong, he thought.
"Captain." Piper's voice betrayed concern. "Their maneuvers… it looks like they're spreading out."
"I noticed."
"The course we're on and the one they're coming around to, if we keep this up, they'll not only cut us off from the support fleet, they might completely surround us."
"Sounds like something Aristide would do," he agreed. "Do you have an alternative course to get us into firing range of those transports?"
"Probably not," she conceded.
"Definitely not," Cera added. "They're already tae close together."
"Well, we'll worry about that once we've got those transports stopped," he said. "The moment they're in range, firing point procedures on Targets Twenty-one through Thirty."
"I don't think I'll ever get used to this CDF combat speech," Piper sighed.
In defiance of the League maneuvers, the four cruisers flew in, in a rough line abreast formation with Liberator in the middle and somewhat out in front. The ships continued firing their turreted guns on the approaching League ships, now spreading out as if to form a great jaw and consume them.
I wonder how much they know about these things? Our weaknesses and design strengths? As important as that consideration was, Henry dismissed it as coming too late to matter. Besides, the transports were the priority target, and keeping the League warships off their allies' ships or the conquered space station were the next two priorities. What I wouldn't give for a CDF carrier group right now...
Breach of Trust: Breach of Faith Book Four Page 38
