Vanguard

by Jack Campbell

  “What?” Drake Porter asked.

  “He’s going to get away,” Rob explained. “We can’t reengage before he jumps out of this star system.”

  “Huh? But we—”

  “It’s not possible,” Danielle said. “Not with Squall’s capability to maneuver. Physics is a bitch. She won’t let us.”

  “We’ll stay on this trajectory anyway,” Rob said. “If that destroyer changes his mind, we’ll be ready.”

  But whatever the destroyer’s mission might have been, it had no desire to continue the fight. Rob watched it reach the jump point and disappear into jump space while still twenty light seconds away from Squall. “Secure from battle stations.”

  “He can’t turn around, right?” Drake asked.

  “Right,” Rob said. “Ships can’t turn around in jump space. He’ll have to go to whatever star he jumped to, then, if he wants to return, jump back.”

  “The nearest star accessible from this jump point is five days in jump space distant,” Danielle said. “That means a ten-day round-trip, minimum.”

  “Whew!” Drake said. “I wasn’t complaining.”

  Rob saw Danielle smiling at him. “That was some wild fighting,” she told Rob. “I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks.” Rob realized his heart was still pounding. “Uh, I didn’t have a chance to grab anything to eat. Could you get me something?”

  “I think there’s still a pack of donuts left.”

  “Victory feast!” Drake cried.

  “The breakfast of space squids,” Danielle agreed with a laugh. “Come on, Drake. Let’s get the lieutenant a donut and some coffee to celebrate the Battle of Kosatka.”

  Rob ordered some sedate maneuvers to get Squall back to the region where she had been waiting to hear back from Kosatka, wondering what the people on the planet would think four hours from now when they saw the just-concluded battle take place.

  • • •

  The reply from Kosatka that showed up eight hours later had six people visible. One was spliced in, with an identifier saying “Orbital Facility Chief Operating Officer.” The five others were all standing in the same room and included the Safety Coordinator who had sent the last message.

  “Lieutenant Geary,” the man in the center began. “I am First Minister Hofer of Kosatka. You already know our planetary safety coordinator, and this is Leader Ottone of our House of Peoples’ Representatives. And of course Citizens Carmen Ochoa and Lochan Nakamura, who you asked after. We have seen your unhesitating and heroic defense of our star system against what appeared to be the same criminals who struck Lares. Kosatka owes an immense debt to Glenlyon. You had no obligation to defend us, but you risked yourself for us anyway. There are no words of thanks adequate for how we regard you and Glenlyon.”

  The First Minister paused, looking uncomfortable. “If we had means to assist you, we would provide it. But as you may have already seen, we lack defenses of our own. Citizen Ochoa has offered advice on a solution to that problem that we will be pursuing, but at the moment we cannot even defend ourselves. I understand that the soonest that awful warship can return will be more than a week, and by then we will have improvised some combat capability on one of our freighters. As soon as we have acquired an additional defensive capability, we will endeavor to return a hundredfold the favor you have done us. Please assure the Council of Glenlyon that Kosatka honors her debts.”

  He gestured toward Lochan Nakamura, who looked slightly bemused. “Lieutenant, I don’t know who referred Carmen Ochoa and me to you,” Lochan said, “but we were happy to advise Kosatka to assist Glenlyon when possible. Our advice was not necessary to convince them, as it turned out. Your actions did that.”

  First Minister Hofer spread his hands in a welcoming gesture. “Thank you, Glenlyon. Kosatka, out.”

  Rob slumped in his stateroom seat, sighing with relief. As the initial glow of victory had faded, he and the rest of those on Squall had been getting nervous about having left Glenlyon defenseless in their absence.

  He straightened again and tapped reply. “Kosatka, we are honored by your offer of assistance and understand your concerns. Since it appears that Kosatka will have some defense in place before that destroyer could return, we would like to return ourselves to Glenlyon to defend that star system against any similar threat. You may not have detected that we inflicted some damage on the destroyer’s propulsion during the fight. He was down to sixty percent of maximum propulsion when he jumped out of this star system and won’t be able to work at repairing external damage while the ship is in jump space. I think it unlikely that ship will risk another battle until they have time to repair that damage, which will likely require them to return to the star system that sent them out, whichever one that is.

  “Therefore, I intend taking Squall back to Glenlyon. I will wait eight more hours after sending this reply to give you the opportunity to tell us if you see a desperate need for us to remain. Otherwise, I will return to Glenlyon to defend it and pass on your reply to my government.

  “For Citizens Lochan Nakamura and Carmen Ochoa, I was referred to you by Mele Darcy, the commander of Glenlyon’s ground forces. I’m sure she sends you her best wishes. If you have any messages for her, please transmit them as quickly as possible, as Squall will leave in eight hours unless Kosatka urgently requires otherwise. Geary, out.”

  The replies that showed up eight hours later consisted of another wave of thanks from the government of Kosatka, and a joint message from Nakamura and Ochoa for Mele Darcy.

  Should he have told them that Mele Darcy had already committed to a hazardous mission? That there was a good chance that she might be killed before Squall managed to return to Glenlyon?

  No, Rob decided. What good would such knowledge have done them? Better they enjoyed as long as possible the thought of their friend alive and well.

  He called the bridge, where Danielle Martel had the watch. “Danielle, head for the jump point. We’re starting back for Glenlyon.”

  That was, he knew, probably the most popular command he had given since leaving home.

  Squall trembled as thrusters fired, pushing her onto a direct course for the nearby jump point.

  • • •

  Three and a half weeks. Barely enough time to teach someone how to salute properly. Barely enough time to scrounge together the equipment she would need. But Scatha’s base had finished their antiorbital weapon installation today, firing a test blast of charged particles that tore through the atmosphere and into space. Warned of the pending test, Glenlyon had used their satellites’ maneuvering capability to switch to orbits out of reach of the weapon, but that meant that Glenlyon could no longer keep track of what Scatha was doing at the base.

  Barely enough time, but it was time to go.

  “All right, listen up.” Mele looked over her best twenty volunteers, who made up the raiding force. Aside from her, only Grant Duncan would be guaranteed reliable in a fight. The others were willing enough but had little idea of what they would be facing. Theory and games and simulations and stress tests were one thing. Actually facing people out to kill you was another. “I’ve only had time to give you the basics. But we’ve got a few big advantages. We’ve been watching Scatha’s soldiers, and they are not ready for us. They think they brought in enough firepower that Glenlyon has no choice but to accept the inevitable. And they think if we do try something, it’ll be something stupid. But we’re going to be smart.

  “So,” she continued, trying to radiate confidence, “we’re going to surprise them, and they won’t be ready for it. I’m going to take the lead on a lot of things because I’ve got the training. Ninja has laid some fantastic groundwork for us. But I need you guys to stay focused and stay sharp. Because you are also one of our big advantages. Scatha never imagined that Glenlyon could put together a group of people like you in such a short time to kick Scathan butt. You’ve all
got important roles to play. If you get confused, use your heads. And remember that we are going to do our best not to kill any civilians at Scatha’s base. Only the soldiers are targets. Any questions?”

  No one had questions. They looked both nervous and eager, Mele thought. All except Grant, who had the look of a skilled worker about to tackle an ugly job.

  She probably looked the same way.

  “Everyone who has a weapon is to ensure it is on safe. Check it! All good? Let’s board,” Mele told them, watching as her twenty filed onto the WinG, then following last.

  All of the others except Riley strapped themselves into seats in the passenger deck, while Riley went down and aft to check on the improvised explosives, and Mele went forward to the cockpit. “Everything’s aboard?” she asked the pilots.

  They nodded, radiating excitement. “I never thought I’d be playing this kind of game,” one told Mele.

  “It’s not a game,” she reminded him. “We can’t afford any slipups. What about Delta?”

  “They’ll accompany us partway and set up while you guys are doing your business. Do you think we’ll need Delta?”

  “Delta is insurance,” Mele said. “Let’s hope we don’t need it, but if we do, we’ll really need it.”

  The other pilot looked back at Mele. “You pretty much improvised all this stuff out of gear designed for other uses. I never knew so much of our equipment could be used for things like this.”

  “Humans are pretty clever when it comes to figuring out how to kill each other,” Mele said.

  Riley came forward. “I checked over the bombs. Everything looks fine.”

  “Should we ask what kind of bombs they are?” one of the pilots said.

  “Some are explosives and some are thermite,” Mele said.

  “Thermite? Are you sure none of those will go off in flight?”

  “If one did,” Riley offered, “it would just burn its way through the floor and out.”

  “That’s not too reassuring.”

  “I’ve got the detonators,” Mele said.

  “And you’re sitting up here right next to us?” the pilot said. “That’s not too reassuring, either! Hey. We got a call. There’s someone outside wants to see you before we take off.”

  Grumbling to herself about delays, Mele went back to the passenger hatch.

  Waiting next to the WinG was Council Member Leigh Camagan. “Good luck, Major Darcy.”

  “I guess the rest of the council was busy?” Mele said. “Um, sorry. That wasn’t very majorish of me.”

  “The rest of the council doesn’t know how to send men and women off to risk their lives for us,” Leigh Camagan said. “They do care, Major.”

  “How is it you know how to do that?” Mele asked.

  “I was married once, Major. To a firefighter who went off to help those who needed it, and one of those times did not come back.”

  Mele straightened to attention. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.” Leigh Camagan gripped Mele’s forearm. “Get it done, Major. And if there are any greater powers watching out for us, I pray that they be with you tonight.”

  “It never hurts to ask for help,” Mele said. She saluted Leigh Camagan in a way that showed she meant the gesture of respect, then went back inside the WinG and sealed the hatch.

  The WinG moved forward, rising on its ground-effect cushion of air, accelerating as it headed north and east. The other one of the smaller WinGs paced them for a long time as they raced toward the coming night, the sun falling toward the horizon in the west. Ocean swells rolled a couple of meters beneath them like the backs of monsters of the deep, the water dark and mysterious in the way of all oceans.

  That was one of the differences between space and planets with water, Mele realized. Space didn’t conceal anything. It was all out there, no matter how far away. You just had to figure out how to spot it across the distances and the vast gulf of years that usually separated humans from the stars and galaxies they studied.

  But oceans kept their secrets as long as they could, hiding them beneath waters that might be placid or rough but always enshrouded what lay under the surface. You could look at a star and tell just about everything about it. But looking at an ocean only let you see what the ocean allowed.

  Like people, Mele thought. Humans might move among the stars with increasing ease, but they still had much more in common with the seas of worlds where humans could live.

  “Why didn’t Scatha ever put up a satellite?” one of the pilots finally asked Mele, breaking the silence in the cockpit. “If they had, they would have been able to see us approaching even coming in as low as we are.”

  “Scatha couldn’t while Squall was here. Lieutenant Geary would have just shot down their satellite. I guess they didn’t expect Squall to leave, so they didn’t bring any launch capability to put up a small sat if it did.”

  “They must have left behind a lot of stuff that they would have brought if they had more cargo space available,” the second pilot observed. “We understand that! Half the time, people want to load twice as much as we have room for. Scatha must have wanted to bring more ground sensors. Why didn’t they put any up on those hills we’re going to run in behind?”

  “Their sensor fields around the base are thin as it is,” Mele said. “I would have put sensors on the hills anyway, but any by-the-book commander would put them all in close until they met the required density for base protection. And from what we’ve learned from the files we captured on the Squall, Scatha is all about punishing people who deviate from instructions. They’ve been gearing up production at their base of more sensors and we’ve seen a few more planted, but they’re still way behind the curve, so whoever’s in charge at that base is playing it safe.”

  “And by playing it safe, they’re actually increasing their risk,” the first pilot said with a laugh.

  The WinGs moved fast for planetary craft, but the trip to the continent where Scatha had planted its base still took time. Mele, knowing how hard the waiting could be, went back and moved around the passenger deck, talking to her volunteers, trying to project confidence, and going over the plans yet again for anyone who might still be unclear.

  Night fell. Glenlyon had two minor moons, which didn’t reflect much light, but Mele was still glad when thin, high-level clouds moved in to obscure the moons and the stars.

  As they neared a couple of small islands well off the coast of the continent, the WinG accompanying them veered off and headed for the islands.

  Alone now, the WinG carrying Mele’s raiding force angled north to ensure it would be beneath the curve of the planet’s surface as it went past the base location, then swung close to due east as the coastline appeared ahead. Mele was happy to see whitecaps and bands of white foam where waves were thundering against the coast. The waters had grown rougher as they went north and east, and the more noise the ocean was making tonight, the better.

  The WinG zipped over a short stretch of gravelly beach and began slowing, dropping a little closer to the thick scrub covering the soil.

  “This is it,” the lead pilot said to Mele as the WinG slowed even more, touching onto the surface and sliding to a slightly bumpy halt. “You guys be careful.”

  “Thanks. If we’re not back by sunrise, get out of here and head back,” Mele said.

  The pilots exchanged reluctant glances. “We’d rather wait—”

  “If we’ve gotten picked off, Scatha will be looking to find out how we came in. They’ll find you,” Mele said. “When the sun rises, head for home. But hopefully we’ll be back well before then.”

  She led her team out of the WinG, walking back to where the big cargo hatch had lowered. It was dark enough out that Mele kept one hand on the side of the WinG for guidance as they walked. When they got to the back, one of the volunteers pulled out a hand control and began punching i
n commands.

  Something stirred in the deeper darkness of the cargo bay, uncoiling and sliding toward them in a way that set Mele’s hair on edge. The tunnelpede looked like a massive earthworm with broad tires set along its length, as well as a single line of seats and handholds along the top.

  The tunnelpede rolled to where something like a boulder stood out from the ground. The volunteer tapped in more commands, and the boulder turned out to be hiding the rear of the snake that had dug the tunnel. The snake, compressed back into a one-meter diameter, still looked scary as hell to Mele as it slid along the ground and into the WinG’s cargo space, coiling itself into a tight curl.

  The two-meter-wide opening left behind by the snake angled down into pitch-blackness. The volunteer with the control took the seat on the tunnelpede closest to the front, Mele and the others climbing onto seats behind. “Lay as flat as you can,” the volunteer called back in a low voice. “The tunnel is narrow enough that if you sit up, your head might graze the top, and you do not want that to happen because we’re going to be traveling pretty fast at times.”

  The tunnelpede began rolling forward, the motion of the many tires so gentle that it felt as if the device were simply sliding forward. A headlight came on as the vehicle entered the tunnel, showing an eerily round tunnel leading lower before leveling out, the only breaks in the smooth surface ridges of instacrete every half meter or so to provide purchase for feet or wheels. The focused beam provided little scatter of light, so from the front of the tunnelpede back, most of the vehicle traveled in total darkness.

  Mele, seated on the tunnelpede with her upper body lying flat, tried to see ahead, but her view was blocked by the driver. She was suddenly glad that the tunnel was unlit because it seemed the primary view of anyone on a tunnelpede would be the butt of the person in front of them.

  The location chosen for their base by Scatha must have looked perfect on a map. Foothills to the north and west framed a broad plain sloping gradually downward toward the coast. The hills seemed to offer protection, while the plain served as a wide, open area that any attacker had to cross to reach the base. Comparatively little work at the construction of a breakwater and some dredging close to shore would provide a good harbor for oceangoing ships. A wide river ran between substantial banks nearby and might pose a future flooding threat, but for now guaranteed enough freshwater.