Never In Vain (Lincoln's War Book 2) Page 11

   Singh looked at her, and said, “We got off lightly. You know that. The bombers worked a minor miracle, and if the enemy commander had decided to concentrate his forces rather than divide them into easily digestible chunks, I’m not sure we’d be here right now.”

   “Agreed.” Raising an eyebrow, she replied, “Why do you bring it up?”

   “Because I know what you are thinking. We’re in no shape for a continued offensive, Captain. Not right now. My advice is that we proceed as originally planned. Komarov returns to Zemlya, collects the tankers, and we escort the convoy to Lemuria for the party of a lifetime. Big ending, everyone’s happy. Then we put the pieces back together and prepare to go out again, hopefully with help.”

   “Maybe.”

   “Captain, this is everything we wanted when we left.”

   “We didn’t know that we were fighting PacFed back then,” she replied, pausing at the door to the brig. “The situation has changed.” She opened the door, a pair of guards standing inside, opposite the single occupied cell. The occupant sat implacably on his bed, wearing an unmarked penal jumpsuit. The guards snapped to attention as she walked inside, looking at the figure in the cell.

   “All his kit’s been taken for analysis, ma’am,” one of the guards said. “He’s shown no resistance yet. As though all the fight’s gone.”

   “I think it’s a trick,” his comrade replied. “He’s just trying to lull us into a false sense of security. I wouldn’t trust him, Captain, or anything he says.”

   “Don’t worry, Spaceman. I don’t intend to. Open it up.”

   The two guards glanced at each other, then turned to the wall, pressing their palms on the lock, the double-activation required to release the maximum security bolts. The door slid open, and Forrest stepped inside, Singh moving after her. She turned to him, shaking her head.

   “Just me.”

   “Captain, you shouldn’t be on your own in there.”

   Pulling her sidearm from its holster, she replied, “I’ve already got a friend with me. Lock the door behind me, and engage the security seals.”

   “But...”

   “We’ve still got an enemy agent on board, Commander, and I don’t want any chance that someone might be listening. Engage the seals, Vik. I’ll only be a few minutes.” She stepped inside, looked down at the seated figure, and said, “Let’s get the formalities out of the way. Name and rank, please.”

   “Captain Yovan Sinaga. Former commander of KRI Suharto. Though none of that matters.” Gesturing at the guards, he said, “It won’t last, you know. This attempt to hold onto your past is commendable, but ultimately futile. Sooner or later your people will decide that the state of existence that sanctioned your command no longer exists.”

   “Not today,” Forrest replied, sitting on the other side of the bed. “Tell me a story.”

   “Aren’t you a little old for that?”

   “This one’s for grown-ups. I can guess some of what happened. You were thrown forwards in time and made contact with the Guild. Presumably trading your freedom for security.”

   He shook his head, and said, “Far sadder than that, Captain. We were thrown forward in time, but were less lucky than you. We emerged into a system that was occupied by a Guild task force, half a dozen ships, and had sustained considerable damage from the temporal passage. We were unable to fight, and I had no choice over than to negotiate from a position of weakness.”

   “Sufficiently weak that you’re flying fighters for them.”

   “I was a fighter pilot for fifteen years. It is my skill. I am not ashamed of that, nor am I ashamed of the deal I originally struck. We were to join the Guild as equal members, and see to the incorporation of our technology and strategic techniques into their organization. We were offered guarantees, but...”

   “They turned out to be as worthless as a Eurasian Neoruble.”

   “As you say,” he replied. “As you say.” He sighed, and said, “My government went to considerable trouble to teach me techniques to withstand interrogation. So many wasted days.” Rising to his feet, he walked to the wall, and continued, “The technical advisers they took became hostages, and the behavior of our new friends suggested that we were second-class citizens. Some threw in completely with the Guild, but others were hoping to escape, to find a way to strike out for neutral space, even with just one of our ships.”

   “It failed.”

   “The plan was sound enough. We were betrayed. My old executive officer.” Cracking a smile, he said, “The Guild are masters at turning brother against brother, it would appear. It is their skill, their talent. The means by which they have conquered most of known space.” Looking back at Forrest, he said, “Many of my people have been captured, taken to a slave labor camp. They call it a technical training institute, but I know what it truly is.”

   “And yet you still fought for them.”

   “Along with two squadrons of pilots. Our fighters had explosive charges set by the primary fuel manifold. If we behaved in a manner that our masters disapproved of, we were to die. If we lost the battle and failed to make it back, we were to die. I ejected first, and the ship I launched from was taken out of the battle by your Lemurian associates. Which means that I owe you my life, ironically enough. Twice, as I know that I would have been slain by the Guilders if they had recaptured me. You will appreciate that they do not reward failure.”

   “Your cruisers. How many made it through.”

   “Three. All at the same location, with some of the best experts the Guild has working on them, as well as the traitors who chose to betray their own people. And to answer your next two questions, yes, you can reach that site from here in a single hyperspace transition, and they are ten days away from bringing the cruisers back to full combat effectiveness. There are two other ships, monitors, which are being retrofitted with PacFed technology. At present, none of them are in a condition to fight.”

   “And the rest of the defenses?”

   A smile crossed Sinaga’s face, and he replied, “Now we talk about my end of the deal.”

   “You realize that most of my crew would be perfectly happy to see you hung, Captain. They hold you responsible for the deaths of thousands of their comrades, as well as the incident that saw us thrown out here.”

   “They died centuries ago, Captain, and it was war. A war that was not of my choice...”

   “So you say.” Raising a hand, she said, “You will appreciate that I have little room or inclination to bargain with you. Given that the fighting is long over, I concede, I am willing to grant you safe passage to a neutral system. Enough freighters pass through Zemlya to handle that.”

   “Not enough.”

   Folding her arms, Forrest said, “I’ll extend that to any of your people who escape.”

   “Still not sufficient,” he replied. “Captain, I’m happy to write off three hundred and ninety traitors, but there are six hundred and four people I consider myself responsible for, and I have to do all that I can to save them...”

   “From your own mistake?”

   “If you like. I’ll give you all the information you need to plan an assault, but I want your word that, in exchange, you will do everything you can to help my people escape. We did have a second plan, but it is dependent on an outside attack. Give me five minutes with your tactical support team, and I can outline an assault strategy that has an excellent chance of success.”

   “You’ll understand if I don’t intend to take your word for that.”

   Taking a deep breath, he replied, “In your place, I would feel the same way, but as it stands, do you really have a choice in the matter? You know that the Guild is using PacFed equipment, and you know that they are planning to integrate into their fleet, which will more than mitigate any short-term technological advantage you currently have. If you want to win this war, you don’t have any other choice than to trust me.”


   “To send me right into a trap.” She paused, then asked, “Why did PacFed attack us?”

   “The Papuan Civil War. It was decided...”

   “No, no, I’m not talking about the spark. Why?”

   “I’m a soldier, Captain, not a politician. I go where I am sent, and that is all. I could ask why the United States launched the Three Stars War, or participated in the invasion of Mozambique. I suppose the two biggest nations had to fight it out sooner or later. As for the surprise attack, you had the advantage, and it was the duty of our military leadership to mitigate it, as best we could. I regret the losses you sustained, but I obeyed my duty as an officer, just as you would have done in the same situation.” Returning to the bed, he said, “I understand that this is a difficult decision. In all honesty, were our roles reversed, I would probably leave you locked in the brig and just walk away. All I can say is that I will not lie to you, and that you have one chance, one single chance of preventing the Guild from winning a major strategic advantage that will in all probability cost you the war. I do not envy you your decision.”

   She paused, looked at him for a moment, and said, “I’m not promising a damned thing.”

   “I understand that. All I ask is that I have a chance to review any intelligence you gather in the aftermath of your victory. Somewhere in the data will be the information I’m looking for, the location of the camp where my crew are being held.”

   “You’re going to sit down with one of my officers and prepare a full briefing. You will remain in the brig at all times unless I decide otherwise. And in any attack I launch, my first priority will be the destruction of your ships. I will review the information we gather personally, and provide you anything of use.” Raising a finger, she added, “That’s as far as it goes, though. Don’t expect my crew to help you actually recover them. That’s up to you.”

   “I understand. Thank you, Captain.”

   “If I find that you have lied, you will die. No due process, no delay, no ceremony. Just a bullet in the gut. Assuming I don’t simply leave you down in the lower decks with instructions for the crew to do what they want with you. There are more than a few that would be very happy with that assignment. I can promise you that.”

   Nodding, Sinaga replied, “I think you are being surprisingly lenient. I will cooperate fully, Captain. My country is dead, my fleet lost. I have nothing left to fight for other than the survival of my people. I have no other obligations in this time.” He paused, then said, “If I had not had the misfortune to find myself stranded in an enemy system, I suspect I would have acted much as you have done. And my compliments, by the way, on two outstanding victories. I was fully briefed on your actions at Enkidu.”

   “Thank you, Captain. Let us both hope that the old maxim does not apply for the Guild.”

   “Eh?”

   “Third time lucky.” Rising to her feet, she walked to the door, the guards opening it to allow her to leave, Singh waiting anxiously in the corridor.

   “Well?” he asked.

   “Assemble the tactical staff from all ships in the fleet. We’ve got a battle to plan.” Cracking a smile, she added, “We’ve got a war to win.”

  Chapter 13

   Flynn walked into the briefing room, looking at the officers already assembled as he took his place as commander of the fleet’s depleted fighter contingent, Tanaka following with his new, gleaming rank insignia in place. Benedetti was already waiting, nodding in greeting as he sat at the table. Officers from Santos-Dumont and both Zemlyan ships, and most of Lincoln’s senior staff. Only Captain Forrest and Commander Singh were absent, and a faint buzz of conversation filled the room as the others awaited their arrival.

   “Any idea what this is about, Benny?” Flynn asked.

   “Just that Commander Garcia’s been in conference all morning, and that I’ve been asked to prepare a list of equipment my fighters will need to operate out of Lincoln’s flight deck.” Grimacing, she added, “Though that doesn’t mean a damn thing. It’ll be weeks before Santos-Dumont is able to operate fighters.” Looking at Tanaka, she continued, “Congratulations on the promotion, by the way. I’m sorry about Mendez. Luck of the draw.”

   “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Tanaka replied.

   Flynn looked around the room, each contingent of the allied forces keeping to themselves, hunched in conversations that were likely the same as that he was having with his pilots. Whatever this meeting was about, nobody in the room had been briefed. That much was clear. He looked up at the star-chart on the wall, the path back to Zemlya plotted. The temptation to plot out his next batch of shore leave was a tempting one, images of soft beaches and loud bars coming to mind, dispelled as the doors finally opened to admit Forrest and Singh, the assembled officers rising to attention as they entered the room, taking their seats at the table.

   “As you were,” Forrest said. Looking around the room, she continued, “The information I’m about to tell you has the highest possible security classification. I now that our three nations use different regulations on this issue, but suffice to say that nothing I share is to go outside this room. I hope that is quite clear to everyone.”

   “Did this come from the traitor?” Garcia asked.

   “That’s not…,” Singh began.

   “Yes, Commander, it did, and to the best of our ability we have independently verified his information. I’m hoping that the people in this room will be able to go further with that process. I will open the floor to discussion once I have completed my briefing.”

   “I don’t want to listen to the ramblings of a traitor,” Gonzales said, the supply officer’s face locked in a grimace. “The bastard killed thousands of my friends. Stranded us out here. Why the hell should we trust him for even a second.”

   “The Guild have three PacFed cruisers, and are planning to not only deploy them as part of their fleet, but to incorporate the technological advantages they include into the rest of their fleet. The fighters we encountered today were just the first taste of that, Commander. There will be more, lots more. Do I make myself clear?” When nobody replied, she tapped a control on the desk, bringing up a holoprojection of local space. “Fortunately, they’ve been forced to put their eggs into a single basket.”

   “I know that system,” Benedetti said. “Lutjens’ Star. Hellhole of a brown dwarf system, torn to pieces by a near collision a few thousand years back. That’s a nightmare to navigate, Captain. I didn’t know the Guild had an outpost there.”

   “It makes sense, though,” Volkov replied, nodding in agreement. “Close to a lot of key systems and trade routes, a potentially significant resource area, and all that debris would make an attack extremely difficult. Given enough time, it would be possible to survey the rocks, work out some good attack patterns, but I’d expect the Guild to have done that already.”

   “Is the plan for a scouting run, then?” Kozlov asked. “Lay some sensor beacons, confirm the intelligence we gathered from the enemy pilot, then return to Zemlya to put together a new task force?” He looked up at the information streaming through the air, and added, “Six monitors!”

   “Most of which are not combat-ready. Yet,” Forrest said. “And much as I’d like to sit back and wait, Major, that isn’t going to be an option this time. Our intelligence suggests that those ships will be ready for action in nine days.” She looked around the table, locking eyes with each of the senior officers, and continued, “That’s a substantial force, people, and one large enough to launch an attack on either Zemlya or Lemuria.”

   “Lemuria would be my guess,” Tanaka volunteered. “As a follow up to holding off the convoy. They’d have wanted to use that as part of their edge. If they got the diplomatic pressure right, they wouldn’t even have to fire a shot.” Looking at Garcia, he added, “Sorry, Commander.”

   “No, no, Lieutenant, your point is well taken,” the Lemurian replied. “I’m forced to agree with you.”
Shaking his head, he continued, “Nine days. Captain, are we sure about this?”

   “We have the testimony of a traitor,” Kozlov said. “And that is all we have, as well as a lot of strategic and tactical guesswork that adds up to very little. What if they are simply attempting to lure us into a trap.”

   “Unlikely, Major,” Flynn replied. “They already did that. Right here. If they were planning to spring a trap for this ship, they’d have thrown more weight into this battle. They had to know that we were coming, or at least that we were likely to come. You’re assuming so much advance intelligence on the behalf of the Guild that we’d have lost the war already.”

   “I would tend to agree,” Singh said. “Though we will exercise all caution, and certainly will not launch our attack in any manner the enemy might anticipate.”

   “Then we’re going to attack?” Kozlov asked. “Now?”

   “Can you think of a better time?” Forrest replied.

   “As a matter of fact, Captain, I can,” the Zemlyan commander replied. “Santos-Dumont is in no shape for a fight, and my ship has been disabled. We can’t leave the system. The tankers still must be convoyed to Lemuria, and that task will require the services of the rest of our formation. We’re still talking about theories, but the economic devastation about to be unleashed upon Lemuria is quite real. That has to be our first priority. Right now, they don’t even know that the way through has been cleared.”

   “We believe that we have solved that problem, Major,” Forrest said. “Commander Garcia, I am aware that your ship is in need of considerable repair. Spacedock time. Is there any reason why you cannot make refit at Zemlya instead of Lemuria? I think I can assure you of all the support and assistance you require.”