Battlecruiser Alamo_Depth Charge Read online

   “Any other injuries?” Cooper asked, to a chorus of murmured negatives. He pulled out his datapad, and said, “We’re about, damn it, three miles south-west of the UN installation. Random chance that we ended up heading that way.” He paused, looked at Gurung, and said, “Random chance hell, that’s where Moreau and the others were heading, and the shuttle just took the same trajectory.”

   “None of us were going to sit back and watch you burn, Ensign,” Gurung said, matter-of-factly. “That’s all there is to it, so you’d better get used to the idea that we like having you around.”

   “Do your people often disobey your orders, Ensign?” Moreau asked.

   “I’m sure your troops would instantly obey any order you gave them, ma’am,” Rhodes replied, “even if it meant leaving you to fry.”

   “Private,” Cooper snapped, barely able to suppress a smile. “Go forward and check the sensor pickups. I want to find out if anyone is heading our way, and try and get at least some sort of a status report. Captain Orlova is probably trying to signal us as we speak.”

   Shaking his head, Gurung said, “First thing I checked, sir. The communications system is fried. Total systems failure. I think we lost the antenna when we clipped that outcrop on the way down, and a lot of the feeds on the lower hull were smashed on landing.”

   “Three miles,” Cooper mused.

   “That just means that a rescue team are already heading this way,” Moreau replied. “Ensign, I admire your courage up to this point, but there’s no realistic way that you can avoid capture. If you surrender to me now, then we can walk to my base and head up to Kolchak for processing.”

   “Processing?” Rhodes replied. “No thanks, Lieutenant. That sounds far too much like what goes on in the carniculture vats.”

   “Whereupon,” Moreau pressed, “you will all almost certainly be returned to your ship in the near future. Colonel Clarke is a fair man, and he won’t detain you without good cause.”

   “You’ll forgive me if I’m a little reluctant to take the word of a UN officer, Lieutenant,” Cooper replied. “I have no intention of surrendering to you or to anyone else for that matter.”

   “What choice do you have?” She paused, then said, “If by some miracle, one of your shuttles makes it down first, then I’ll come quietly, but that isn’t going to happen. Kolchak will be dominating low-orbital space, and there’s no way for your ship to punch through without starting a war.” She frowned, looked at Cooper again, and said, “Ensign, believe it or not, I appreciate what you did for me and my people back there. Not, well, blowing up a part of the planet, but you cared enough to put your life at risk to save ours. I’m not sure there are many UN officers who would have done the same, I will freely admit.”

   “Damn it!” Gurung said. Turning to Cooper, he said, “All our plasma weapons are drained. Looks like there was some sort of feedback surge when the main power plant went offline.” He paused, then added, “No, it was deliberate. The pilot did it at the last minute.” Looking at the corpse crouched over the controls, he continued, “I guess he needed a few more seconds of power to bring us down. That means we’ve only got conventional weapons systems.”

   “They’ll have to do,” Cooper said, pulling on his respirator. “We’re not staying here, people. We move out. There’s high ground to the north, and if we can get up there, then...”

   “Then what?” Moreau asked. “You’re going to live off the land? There’s nothing here, Ensign, and you don’t have enough supplies to last the night. Not without shelter.” She paused, then said, “If you want to commit suicide, there are faster ways, but not many this certain.”

   “We could leave them here, sir,” Gurung suggested. “Might make things easier if we do. There’s power for a few days, and she’s probably right about her friends making it down here soon.”

   Cooper looked at Moreau, then nodded, saying, “Tie them up, Sergeant, and make sure they can’t get at any surface suits. Corporal Wyler, make sure they can’t use any of the equipment on board. The rest of you, prepare to disembark. Rhodes, you’re with me.” The squad hastened to obey his orders, he and Rhodes cycling through the airlock to return to the surface.

   The tall cloud still rose to the horizon, and the suit systems registered unexpected heat, residue from the recent explosion, even this far away. Evidently the bomb had worked just as they had hoped, punching a hole through the ice with minimum collateral damage.

   One look at the outside of the shuttle was enough to convince him that they’d had a very narrow escape, that they had been far luckier than they had any right to expect. Hefting his rifle, Cooper headed out into the jagged landscape, looking at the outcrops beyond. It was a great place to hide, tall canyons and channels carved into the ice, gaping cracks in the surface ranging down for miles, narrow enough that they would be easily defensible.

   He looked down at his supply pack, a dozen injections to keep him going for eight hours apiece. The rest of this squad was similarly equipped, but in four days, if Alamo hadn’t managed to send someone down to pick them up, they’d have to surrender or starve. And for that whole time, they’d be forced to remain in their confined surface suits, and he was already feeling an itch between his shoulder blades, almost reaching out in a futile attempt to scratch it.

   “Boss,” Rhodes said, “I’ve got something on the horizon. Small point, but it’s got to be artificial. Not a shuttle. Holding altitude.” He paused, then continued, “I just saw pulse gas jets. I think it’s a hover-car. Heading right for us.” Turning to Cooper, he said, “If my sensors are right, we’re going to have company in the next few minutes.”

   “Squad,” Cooper said, “Deploy at once!” He raced clear of the shuttle, turning to face the oncoming vehicle, rifle in hand. “Stay in pairs, and head north-east. Take different routes.” He reached for his datapad, and said, “I’m sending the rendezvous co-ordinates to you now. Good luck.” Two at a time, the squad emerged, each racing into the ice while he and Rhodes waited, urging them on, knowing that every second counted.

   “That’s it, sir,” Rhodes said, as the last team sprinted for cover.

   “Move out, Private,” he replied, taking the lead, running along his pre-selected route, a long gully stretching for more than a mile, dropping down deep into the ice sheet. He slipped and slid in his haste, Rhodes right behind him, as the hover-car. thundered overhead, moving into position to rescue the prisoners in the shuttle. He glanced at his communications relay, his suit computer still attempting to regain contact with Alamo, the red light refusing to dim. One more problem.

   Black-uniformed troopers dropped to the ground on jet-packs, surrounding the shuttle as they moved to secure the prisoners within. Cooper spared barely a glance at the scene as he focused on flight, on escaping the trap the forces from the base were springing. Then, abruptly, the hover-car. rose into the sky, leaving its soldiers behind, and a series of ports began to slide open on the side.

   Missile racks. Someone was changing the rules of the game.

   “Get down!” Cooper yelled, Rhodes an instant ahead of him, the two men tumbling to the ground, trying to protect themselves from the onslaught that was about to erupt all around them. A dozen warheads erupted from the side of the hover-car., each of them aimed at a fleeing pair of troopers, two of them diving towards Cooper and Rhodes as they rolled into whatever cover they could find, desperate to evade the trap that the enemy soldiers had sprung.

   The missiles slammed into the side of the ravine, sending ice and melt-water raining down upon them, burying them under a heavy pile of rubble. Cooper felt a crack, wincing in pain as his suit identified a fractured rib, sending sedatives flooding into his system to relax him as the ice settled above him, the brief melt quickly freezing above them.

   He waited. Better for the enemy to think he was dead, and they’d buried him deeply enough that there would be little chance that they’d take the time to excava
te. He let the sedatives do their work, setting a one-hour alarm to revive him as soon as he thought it safe to emerge. While he waited, he dozed, playing some soft music through his helmet in a bid to relax him, knowing there was nothing he could do but wait, nothing he could do to help his squad, stranded up on the surface, or even Rhodes, trapped only meters away in the ice.

   At any moment, he expected voices overhead, to feel the snow and ice being torn away as the enemy forces moved in, but it never happened, and he remained stranded in his frozen tomb. Finally, the alarm buzzed in his helmet, and he could begin to move, pushing and tugging his way out, turning his suit heaters to maximum to grant him the freedom to emerge, his wounded rib aching the whole time, even through the near-overdose of painkillers provided by his suit.

   At last, he pushed his way free, rifle first, and scrambled onto the surface, the sides of the gully now turn asunder. There was no sign of the hover-car., the shuttle empty and abandoned, locks forced open to render it useless as a place of shelter. He saw a second hole, gouged in the ice, and his heart sank. Rhodes had been captured. A quick glance at his scanner confirmed his worst suspicions. He was alone.

   Out on the surface, he wouldn’t be alone much longer. If his squad had been captured, he had to rescue them.

   If they were dead, he had to avenge them.

  Chapter 16

   “I’m sorry, Captain,” Spinelli said, looking over the sensor controls. “The last trace we had showed the enemy soldiers storming the shuttle. Kolchak is still holding position. As far as I can see, they’re just sitting there.” He paused, then added, “Something strange, though, ma’am. I’d have expected them to send down an interrogation team, a security force, something to deal with their prisoners. They haven’t.”

   “That only means that they’ve killed them, Spaceman,” Cantrell replied from the tactical station, her face dour. “I recommend that we launch an immediate strike in retaliation. If we move quickly, we can catch them while they’re still at the bottom of the gravity well.”

   Shaking her head, Orlova replied, “Weitzman, hail Kolchak again. Message laser this time. Inform them that I wish to speak to the Colonel immediately regarding the disposition of our people, and don’t accept no for an answer.”

   “Aye, ma’am,” she said. “Sending message now.”

   Nelyubov walked over to her, and quietly said, “There’s no reason why they’ll pick this time to reply, Maggie.” Looking at the viewscreen, he added, “And I’m afraid Cantrell might be right. There’s a good chance that they’ve killed our people. Hell, it might even have been in battle. If they tried to capture Cooper, he’d have resisted. I’d have been surprised if our people didn’t take casualties. We ought to consider Cantrell’s suggestion.”

   “Attack Kolchak?” she replied. “Without warning?”

   “You said yourself that it would be extremely unlikely to lead to a war. And they’ve made the first move, attacking our team on the surface.” He paused, then said, “It’ll come down to the diplomats. It always does. But we’re a long, long way from home, and the Security Council has little reason to want to admit to this operation.”

   “You’re advocating a first strike?”

   “I’m suggesting that we hit them before they hit us, yes.”

   “We don’t fire first. If they start something, Frank, we’ll finish it, but there’s something more going on.” She turned to Weitzman, and asked, “What’s the comm traffic like between Kolchak and their surface installation?”

   “Limited, ma’am,” he replied. “It must be mostly tight-beam. I’m not picking up anything clear at all.”

   “That’s odd.” Turning to Nelyubov, she said, “They launched their submersible about ten minutes before ours. With the additional preparation time, I’d be expecting a constant stream of updates from the surface. There ought to be a lot more activity than there is. And I’ve looked at Colonel Clarke’s record, and what happened on the surface doesn’t match his usual methods.”

   “He’s still a United Nations officer, Maggie.”

   “Which doesn’t make him automatically a murderer.” She paused, turned to Weitzman, and said, “Any response to our messages?”

   “Not a flicker, ma’am. I know that they’re receiving, but they just aren’t answering.”

   Rising to her feet, she said, “Have a transfer shuttle prepared for immediate launch. Cantrell. I want Zheng Hue placed under immediate custody, and Doctor Duquesne to conduct a full examination, with a special focus on the brain.” Looking at the sensor display, she continued, “Inform Spartacus Station that I strongly recommend they evacuate everyone they can. I don’t think this part of space is going to be particularly friendly in the near future.”

   “I’m not going to like this, am I?” Nelyubov said. “Just where do you think you are going in a transfer shuttle?”

   “What makes you think I’m going,” she replied with a smile.

   “I know you too well,” he replied. “Can I speak with you in private for a moment?”

   “Of course,” she said, walking into her office, Nelyubov a footstep behind. As soon as the door closed, she said, “Get it out of your system, Frank.”

   “Going over to Kolchak is a mistake, Maggie. And you know it.” Gesturing at the planet below, large in the office viewscreen, he said, “We’ve lost twelve people on the surface, and there’s an excellent chance that they are dead, but that does not mean that you should throw your life away because of it. All of them knew the odds when they left the ship. We had them nursemaiding a shaped nuclear charge, for God’s sake. And don’t forget, we’ve got another one to emplace within the next twelve hours. That has to be our priority now.”

   “Then what do you recommend, Frank? Because that ship isn’t just going to sit out there and watch while we drop another expedition onto the surface. I’m expendable. If the worst happens, than you can take my place and continue the mission as planned, but we’ve got to know what is going on over there. He might be able to ignore my signals, but if I hammer on the primary bridge airlock, that at least will attract his attention.”

   “And see you thrown into a cell. Or worse. You’re throwing your life away and handing them a hostage, and...”

   Raising her hand, she said, “Kolchak and Alamo are equally matched, and any chance of a surprise attack we might manage would give us, at best, only a temporary advantage. You know that just as well as I do, and so does Colonel Clarke. We’re on a mission of extreme importance to the future of the Confederation, and we don’t dare do anything to risk that. If there’s a chance that we can talk our way out of this, then we have to take it.”

   “There’s something you aren’t telling me,” Nelyubov said, folding his arms.

   “Let’s just say I might have something up my sleeve.” Reaching for a communicator, she said, “Bridge to Medical. Do you have our guest yet?”

   “I do indeed,” Duquesne said. “He’s even less cooperative than my usual customers. I’ve had to strap him into a chair. I thought this guy was supposed to be on our side.”

   “I’m sure he hoped to have engendered that impression, but I don’t think I bought it for a moment.” Turning to Nelyubov, she added, “That’s the first piece of the puzzle.”

   “The not-men,” Nelyubov said. “You think...”

   “I think they’re trying to get Alamo and Kolchak to fight each other. One of us is destroyed, the other too badly damaged to complete the mission. Giving them all the time they need to complete their plans against us, whatever they might be.” Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t want to play their game, Frank. It’s time we started to take the initiative.” Looking at the screen, she added, “I don’t think we can even be certain that he’s receiving our messages. All it would take would be a single technician in the right place to cut them off from us. Hell, for all we know, he’s been trying to contact us for the last hour.”
r />    He frowned, then said, “None of that means that you have to go yourself. Let me go, instead. I’m less important to this mission than you are.”

   Shaking her head again, she replied, “It has to be me. I’m the commander of this ship, and if I’m the one who goes over there, I’ve got the best chance of making myself heard.” She paused, then continued, “If something goes wrong, you are under orders to consider me irretrievable, and do whatever is necessary for the safety of the ship and the success of the mission. Even if that means pulling out and leaving Cooper, myself, Salazar and the rest of our people behind. Do I make myself clear.”

   “One condition, Captain,” he said. “And this one is non-negotiable. I hate the idea of you putting your head into the lion’s mouth, but I’ll go along with it if you take someone with you. Take Harper along for the ride. Do that, and I’ll withdraw my objections.”

   Orlova nodded, and said, “Have her meet me at the shuttle bay. I’ll be along in a minute.” She reached for her gun-belt, unbuckling it and placing on her desk, adding, “I don’t think taking this along for the ride will help much, do you?”

   “Probably not, though I wouldn’t put it past you to find a way to take that ship off them with two sidearms if you really put your mind to it,” he replied with a smile. “I’ll keep the home fires burning for you, Maggie, and I’ll go in shooting if it comes to it, but I’ll warn you now that I only intend to pull out of the system as a last resort. Leave your communicator open. As long as I’m picking up your signal, we’ll know that you’re safe.”

   “Fair enough,” she replied. “Just be careful, Frank.”

   “Captain,” Cantrell’s voice barked over the speakers. “Shuttle is ready at the aft bridge airlock. I presume you’re flying it yourself?”

   “I am,” she replied.

   “Lieutenant Harper is standing by at the hatch, Captain.”

   Orlova glanced at Nelyubov, and said, “Just once, it would be nice to catch her by surprise.”