Battlecruiser Alamo - 7 - Battlecruiser Alamo: Sacred Honor Read online

   “Not until all this is over, anyway. Too many people know already. At least Cooper is back on the case again, and with the two of us in charge of finding him, I think we can assume that he’ll be on the run for a while. I wish there was some way would help the man more directly, though.”

   Running a hand through her short hair, she replied, “I don’t think we need to worry about that, Captain. Someone’s obviously already doing that for us.”

   “Which is an excellent question in itself.”

   “I was looking at the sensor logs of the detention area before we left. At least, I was trying to; those records have been encrypted. And not with any form of encryption I’m familiar with.”

   “Cabal?”

   “I thought of that, but no. It doesn’t match what we’ve learned of their code, either.”

   “So as well as having a saboteur on board, we’ve also got some secretive person who is helping us to track him down, someone with a worrying knowledge of our security protocols. This situation is getting better by the minute.”

   They walked back down the corridor towards the elevator, stepping over the drips of Cooper’s blood; Zebrova made some notes on her datapad for a clean-up crew to head down to deal with it. She paused in her work and looked back up at Marshall.

   “Have you decided whether or not to follow the saboteur’s lead?”

   “Not yet,” he said. “I want to catch them a little more by surprise than that, and if we played along too much, he’d get suspicious. Besides, I don’t want to go to battle with empty fuel tanks. We’ve got to top up.”

   “Agreed. I still think you are taking a big risk.”

   “Bigger if we let that fleet run loose.”

   Looking around the deck, she replied, “If we can’t get the information home, then taking out the fleet is the next best thing?”

   “We’ve taken a lot of risks to get as far as we have. One more, one more big risk, and we win everything.”

   “Or lose everything.”

   “Sometimes, Lieutenant, that’s the risk you have to take.”

  Chapter 13

   Price’s face resolved itself on the viewscreen as Carpenter watched from the command chair – Orlova’s chair. All her composure was focused on looking comfortable in the position, looking as though she was meant to be there, and the rest of the crew, whatever they might have thought about her surprise promotion, were going along with the idea.

   “Commander Forster is hours overdue,” she said, trying for as menacing a tone as she could muster. “Have you any explanation? Is there a problem with the shuttle?”

   “I’ve spoken to the personnel at Crashlander, Lieutenant, and all I can tell you is that she went off with a guide into the outback in one of our heavy-transport cars, and she hasn’t come back. We sent out a helicopter to look for her, but it hasn’t returned either.”

   “Is that all you can do?”

   “We’re a small outpost here, Lieutenant, and our facilities are limited. There’s only so much we can do. I’ve instituted an orbital search, but there’s a lot of wildlife out there and from that sort of range it is next to impossible to find anything.”

   “Another ground search?”

   “We’ve only got two other cars, Lieutenant, and if we’ve got something out there that is eating cars and copters, I’m not willing to risk them. I’ve already lost four men on this, and I don’t believe in placing more lives at risk. Of course, you are free to do whatever you think best; I can’t stop you.”

   Nelyubov said from his station, “You’d place your equipment at our disposal?”

   “You can requisition whatever you want. Except the landing shuttle, that is; it’s the only way we’ve got to get down there at the moment. Our back-up is down for its annual servicing.”

   “Convenient,” Nelyubov muttered.

   “Thank you, Mr. Price, that will be all for now,” Carpenter said. “Hercules out.”

   Standing from his console, Nelyubov said, “We’ve got to go down there.”

   “Are you asking me or telling me?”

   “Someone needs to take some positive action around here. I’ll take Mathis, Jenkins and Scott. They’ve had the most ground forces experience.” He began to walk to the elevator, continuing, “Curry, you need to coordinate the search from orbit, try and track us into the last location. I’ll keep you informed.”

   Carpenter quietly counted to ten, took a deep breath, and said, “Mr. Nelyubov, return to your station.”

   “What? We need to get our Captain back. You are only in command because of an oversight in regulations…”

   “Nevertheless, I am in command, and my judgment is that we should wait.”

   “She’s your friend,” Curry said. “How can you just sit there?”

   “Do you want to take the landing team yourself?” Nelyubov said. “I could run the search from up here.”

   “No, Lieutenant. There will be no landing team. Before she left, Ma...Acting Captain Orlova made it quite clear that there were too few of us already to risk anyone else in rescue efforts. She indicated that there was to be no attempt to retrieve her if the mission went bad.”

   “You can’t take that seriously.”

   “I take my orders very seriously. Do you?”

   Nelyubov looked around the bridge, but no-one else met his gaze. Balling his fists, he turned around and walked up to the command chair, his eyes flashing.

   “Damn it, you’re just a scientist with an honorary rank.”

   “Nonetheless, I’m in command and I mean to follow the orders of my commanding officer to the letter.”

   “It could be a trap,” Curry said. “For all we know, Price has had her captured.”

   “In which case,” Carpenter said, “throwing more people into the fire is stupid.”

   Taking short, measured paces, Nelyubov returned to his station, throwing up a search grid of the planet below on his screen. His hands began to work the controls, targeting Hercules’ sensors on the planet.

   “I’m going to conduct an orbital search. If you have no objection, Lieutenant.”

   “Not at all.” Carpenter looked around the bridge, trying to find a neutral direction to vent her nerves, and finding none. Everywhere she looked was another crew-member working their stations, testing systems. She looked up at the office door, but somehow it didn’t seem like a good idea to leave the bridge.

   Tapping a button on her armrest, she said, “Sergeant Wilson, this is Carpenter on the bridge.”

   “Go ahead.”

   “Can I get a status report?”

   “It’s going slowly, ma’am, even with the repair teams from Hydra Station helping out. We’re making progress, though. We can maneuver at speed again, and the communications systems are back on line, sensors should be fully functional by the end of the day.”

   “Weapons systems?”

   “I’ve got the combat fabricators working, at least after a fashion, but we’re having trouble with the launch systems. Four days at most.”

   “So four days until we’re fully operational?”

   “Ma’am, we’re papering over the cracks here. If we were going to get this ship back into full working spec, we would be looking at months, not days. All we can do is fix the major systems and hope Hercules holds together through whatever we end up putting her through.” He paused, “Having said that, we can jump whenever the word is given. Oh, and we’ve just about finished fueling, as well. Those systems weren’t badly damaged.”

   Musing for a moment, she said, “What about the saboteur? Any sign of his handiwork?”

   “Once I got the damage to the combat replicators and the fueling system fixed, I didn’t find anything else, and I have been looking. I’m not saying we might not have some surprises left buried in the systems, but nothing critical.”

   “Anything else I need to k
now?”

   “Life support systems are all fine, and we’ve got stores prepared for an extended voyage if we need to make one. I’m getting the spares deposits built up a little, but Hydra doesn’t have much of what we need. Fabricators are working again, though. Just spending a few days at a repair facility makes a real difference.”

   “Thanks, Sergeant. Bridge out.”

   “Good engineer,” Curry said. “He really ought to have been commissioned, but he always turned it down. Said he felt more comfortable wearing stripes.”

   “Maybe we can change his mind when we get back,” she said. “Offer him something fun to work with.”

   “I know he admired Alamo quite a bit when he was on board. Getting to work with new equipment for a change might tempt him a little.”

   “I don’t think we’ll ever get Quinn out of his engine room from what I’ve seen of him, but it might be worth a try.”

   Nelyubov turned to her, his eyes widening. “Dimensional instability! Close aboard!”

   “Damn.”

   “We should go to battle stations.”

   Shaking her said, she replied, “No. Too many workers on board from Hydra Station. We’d be showing our hand.”

   “Don’t you think we’re about to be found out anyway?” Nelyubov yelled.

   “Frank,” Curry said, “We haven’t got any weapons to fire. We’ve got to ride Orlova’s bluff as long as we can. She’s quite right.”

   Turning back to his station, he said, “It’s not very big. Cabal warbook is identifying it as a Bleriot-class Scout.”

   “Useful having that around,” Carpenter said. “What can it do?”

   “Two missile tubes, countermeasure capability. Comparable to the Mariner-class Scouts – on the old side. If we had weapons we could take her easily.”

   “But we don’t,” Curry said. “So we can’t.”

   “They’re hailing the station,” Mathis said. “Tight-beam, can’t pick it up.”

   Frowning, Carpenter said, “Call Price up, remind him that we have priority on repair work.”

   “Huh?” he replied.

   “It’s what we would do if we really were a Cabal ship, Sergeant. Do it.”

   As Mathis worked, Carpenter rose from her station and walked over to Tactical, leaning over Nelyubov’s station to look at the readings.

   “It’s just sitting there,” he said. “Waiting for docking clearance, probably.”

   “Or passing on some of the news of the battle,” Curry said.

   “We didn’t see any ships of this type. Odds are it’s coming in from somewhere else.”

   “I hope so.”

   “We’re being hailed by the station,” Mathis said. “Wants to speak to you.”

   “Here it comes,” Curry said.

   Price’s face appeared on the screen, and he immediately began, “The commander of the Dumont has requested top priority for repairs; I don’t know all of the details, but apparently some sort of blockade is being established.”

   “Where?” Carpenter asked, leaning forward in her chair.

   “I don’t know. Classified. In any case, he’ll have to get priority on the supplies.”

   Fixing her face in a scowl, she replied, “I think a full warship has greater priority than a mere scoutship, Mr. Price.”

   “We’ve already established that you can’t be fully repaired in the time window, Lieutenant. Let’s give the Dumont what it wants and get it on its way, then we can concentrate on Hercules again.”

   “Under protest, Mr. Price,” Carpenter said. “Hercules out.”

   “We’re dead,” Curry said as the screen went dark. “As soon as they reach the blockade, they’ll report our presence and we’ll be stuck.”

   “Unless we jump earlier,” Nelyubov said. “Lieutenant, if we forget about the weapons systems…”

   “Forget about our armament?” Curry said, shaking her head.

   Fixing a stare at her, he continued, “We can be out of here in thirty-six hours.”

   “What about Orlova?” Carpenter said.

   Taking a deep breath, he said, “We leave her behind, and you get us home as Acting Captain. Or yield the chair to someone else if you want. Lieutenant Curry is next in line.”

   “Don’t look at me,” she said.

   “There’s another option,” Carpenter replied with a smile, amazed that she was even considering it. “I want a plan to seize the Dumont.”

   “Capture the Dumont? Are you out of your mind?” Curry said, but Nelyubov sat back in his chair rubbing his hand across his chin.

   “I like the way you think, Lieutenant,” he replied. “We’ve got access to the schematics of that ship, and we might be able to come up with something.”

   “You’ve got twenty-four hours to work on it, Lieutenant,” Carpenter said. “If you can’t think of anything, then we’ll just have to make a run for it and hope we can finish fixing up the ship as we go.” Standing up, she continued, “Curry, you have the deck. I’ll be in the office.”

   “Yes, ma’am,” she replied, shaking her head. “I have the deck.”

   She gently slid into the office and swung herself down into the chair, waiting for the door to close before she allowed herself to panic. Not only was she facing the real possibility that she’d end up commanding this ship long-term, but she’d just ordered Nelyubov to start planning a battle with an enemy warship. Where she would have to command Hercules in combat.

   On the viewscreen in the office, Sandveld was rising, its sepia rear hemisphere, shining as the sun passed behind it. She stared down at it, looking at the swirling clouds and thin rivers cutting through the deserts, longing to be on the surface, or anywhere other than where she was. Orlova was somewhere down there, no doubt having an amazing adventure, while everything started to fall to pieces up there.

   The scout moved into view as it drifted in to dock with the station, a sphere that seemed to be trailing a cage containing its engine systems, long missile tubes at its heart. An antenna on the top of the ship seemed to point towards Hercules for a second before drifting away, locking onto another target.

   Picking up a datapad, she began to search for a file. Finding it, she settled down for a read, punctuated by the occasional panic as she glanced up at the clock, watching it slowly counting the seconds before she would have to decide whether to run or fight.

   “Damn it, Maggie, you’d better get yourself up here. This isn’t what I signed up for.” She turned her attention back to the datapad and began to read.

   ‘An Elementary Course in Three-Dimensional Warfare, Chapter 1...’

  Chapter 14

   Orlova walked across the desert with Durman by her side, a pair of the Neander behind them sweeping away their tracks. Not only would that prevent anyone pursuing them, it would also make it next to impossible for them to find their own way back. While she was trying to spot landmarks, one rock looked very similar to another.

   They’d been walking for what felt like hours, and her legs were aching in the gravity; she resolved to spend more time in Hercules’ gym when she got back, then caught herself. At some point she’d started identifying herself completely with Hercules, to the point that Alamo was beginning to seem like a distant memory, despite having walked on its deck less than a month ago. By now it was all destroyed, and she stopped for a moment and looked up; it was getting dark, and the stars were coming out. Comforting, and yet familiar; Kormax stopped, and turned to face her.

   “Is there a problem?”

   “Just some memories catching up with me. Nothing to worry about.”

   Durman said, “We’ll, I’ve got a problem. My feet hurt. How much further are we going to have to walk?”

   “Not far. We are almost there.” He turned and pointed, and as she squinted, Orlova could see a curl of smoke on the horizon. “The fires of my people have been lit for the
night.”

   “Aren’t you worried that they might show up from orbit?”

   “There are many volcanic vents on this planet, enough that no-one will ask any questions about one more heat source. Besides, no-one has ever really looked for us. That has been seen to.”

   “By Price, among others,” Orlova said. “I’m looking forward to speaking to him properly when we get back. I think we might be able to help each other.”

   “I would certainly hope so. Come, there is food, drink and shelter a few paces ahead.”

   Orlova looked at Durman, who grimaced; there was no way of telling what a ‘few’ paces would be, though it was likely to be far more than they were used to. Her shoes hadn’t been designed for this sort of wear, and already she could feel hot sand through some slits in the soles, and grimaced at the occasional sharp stone.

   As they grew closer, they could start to make out individual structures; a dozen tall tents, scattered around a fire, with a thin fence made of sticks placed around the perimeter. The smell of roasting meat filled the air, and the prospect of eating real food made Orlova salivate. What was obvious at the start was that everyone there was Neander; she could see children being ushered into the tents to safety, people looking at her in fear, even hatred.

   A trio of men wielding guns came from the rear of the encampment, heading towards them with grimaces on their faces, as though they were about to do a job they found unpleasant; Kormax jogged up to them, exchanged some words in a language they did not recognize, and they moved to the perimeter, taking up positions that would allow them to see Orlova and Durman wherever they went, though she didn’t imagine that the guards were for their protection.

   “My people are understandably wary of your kind,” Kormax said. “You feature in many of our oldest stories.”

   “We do?” Durman said.

   “As demons and monsters, Mr. Durman. A recurring theme is that your kind expelled us from paradise. I’m sure you can understand where such legends could have originated.”

   “But Mr. Price…”

   “Very few of my people have ever encountered yours. I myself have only met Mr. Price on a few occasions, though we have conversed more frequently.”