Fermi's War Page 20

  Jian appeared, frowning, sitting on his bridge, crewmen working frantically around him. Evidently he had decided to bring his ship to full combat readiness, and Marshall could hardly blame him. He waved a datapad at the screen towards Marshall, sadness echoing through his voice.

  "I was about to contact you with good news, Captain. My government has formally agreed to your request for arbitration."

  Caine's face was incredulous, "You couldn't possibly have received a message from Luna that quickly."

  "An official of our government is present in the system, and has formally accepted the offer. Once accepted, it will not be revoked. However, I am informed that there is a freighter heading for us, that it is armed, and that it has vowed to remove us from the sub-system. Indeed," he paused, "they have requested that I should surrender my vessel to them."

  "That vessel is not operating with the sanction of the Triplanetary government, the Combined Chiefs, or anyone else to my knowledge, Captain."

  "Nevertheless, they are a threatening force. Captain, we are so close to a resolution of this crisis." He sighed, "But if that vessel launches an attack on mine, I will be forced to engage and destroy it. I assure you, no matter what modifications or enhancements have been made for it, my vessel will be able to destroy it in short order."

  "That is my assessment as well. I assure you that Alamo will not participate in any way in such an action."

  "I believe you, Captain. But I must then inform my government of the attack, you see, and those forces willing to risk war will force a repudiation of the agreement to arbitration, and my original orders will be reinstated – that Desdemona is ours by right, and that the Triplanetary presence must be removed."

  "My government will doubtless insist that I defend the moon. No matter what the cost. The actions of the freighter will only make things worse."

  "Indeed. On the eve of a settlement, we are close to war." He looked up at a monitor, "I would ask Alamo to assist us in defending ourselves from the freighter, but you are too distant, even if you leave now."

  Marshall looked across at Caine, who nodded, saying, "We'd get there three hours too late."

  Cunningham added, "Our fighter wing wouldn't get there in time either. Even if they used every drop of fuel they had."

  "A stalemate, then. I do not want to fight you, Captain."

  "Nor I you. How much time have I got?"

  "The freighter, on its present course, will intercept us in nine hours. I cannot evade without losing my course to Desdemona, and that I will not do; my orders remain to assume orbit."

  "I'll try and stop them."

  Jian leaned forward in his chair, "I hope you succeed, for all our sakes. Ma Kong out."

  This was one of those times Marshall knew that he should be in his office; he turned back to the communications station. Dietz had stepped onto the bridge and had taken the operations station quietly, starting combat readiness checks. Shirase looked up at Marshall, and shook his head.

  "I can't get through, Captain. They are ignoring me." He paused. "Leave Desdemona. The Belt will suffer, but with such as they running things, perhaps it should. It would be better than a war."

  Marshall looked at him, standing defeated by his console, and replied, "I know what that cost you, Lieutenant. Thank you. Whatever else happens, I'll see you have a future in the Fleet. Even if I wanted to, I can't break orbit, and the Combined Chiefs wouldn't order it. None of them would be openly willing to start a war, but they wouldn't want to lose face. Nor would the President." He sighed, closed his eyes, and then said to Weitzman, "Open an omni-directional channel. Make sure the Maru can hear it. I want this to ring through. They must have heard our transmission to the Ma Kong."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then they will know I'm serious."

  The technician carefully adjusted his controls, turned and nodded, "You're on, sir. With enough juice that they'll hear you out to Pluto."

  "This is Lieutenant-Captain Marshall, commanding the Triplanetary starship Alamo. I know that those of you on the Maru can hear me, so I want you to listen. Alamo will not support you in any battle with the frigate; even if we could, I wouldn't. As far as I am concerned you are on your own. Further, if you are fortunate enough to survive a battle with the Ma Kong, and I would rate the odds of such survival as being extremely low, Alamo will take all steps necessary to stop you taking any further hostile acts against the Republic, up to and including engaging you in battle."

  Weitzman looked up, "I think you got their attention. We're getting a signal from them, tight-beam encrypted."

  Marshall turned to Caine, "Though they will probably have all their firewalls toughened..."

  "It's worth a try. I'm on it, sir."

  "Put them through, Weitzman."

  Tokubai appeared on the screen; he had found the time to change into his old Defense Directorate uniform, and looked as if he had stepped out of a recruitment poster. Undoubtedly this transmission was being recorded to be used for propaganda at some future point; no doubt someone in the Maru was already working in an editing suite.

  "This is First Lieutenant Tokubai, commanding People's Spaceship Raifuku Maru. I am outraged to hear that you are repudiating the Formation Treaties; we have formally asked for your assistance in dealing with this menace to our territory, and expect you to change your standpoint at once. I warn you; we have already contacted your superiors."

  Marshall's face was fixed with fury, he spat out, "I will not support you in an illegal action. We have reached an agreement with the Republic, an agreement that will lead to peace. By your actions today you risk starting a new interplanetary war!"

  "I am willing to take that risk, Captain."

  "Willing to risk millions of lives?"

  "Our actions are solely motivated by our desire to see the Belt prosperous and proud once again." Tokubai had stopped speaking to Marshall at this point, now he was speaking for posterity. "If the Triplanetary Fleet will not protect our sovereign rights, then we are forced to take matters into our own hands, whatever the odds. We hope that Alamo will provide support; we do not expect or require it to accomplish victory."

  "The Ma Kong has twice your firepower. You don't have a chance."

  "We have the will to win, Captain."

  Shirase stepped forward into view, "Tokubai, the Belt will not be served by being the front line in another war. The last one cost of dozens of destroyed settlements, tens of thousands of dead. You can't bring all that back down on us again."

  "I will not listen to the words of a traitor."

  "I am the one who is speaking to a traitor. Not you."

  "If you will not assist us, I have nothing further to say. We will contact you again after the battle. Maru out."

  "Fools," Marshall said, shaking his head as the channel closed. "They're going to get us into a war whether we like it or not."

  Collapsing into a chair, Shirase looked around, "The Council will repudiate their actions as soon as they find out about them."

  "At least five hours back-and-forth just on transmission lag. I'm sure that they'll have enough friends back home to hold things up until it is much too late to matter," Caine said.

  Ryder looked up from the guidance control station, as usual bounced from her normal post by an overabundance of senior officers, "What if we broke orbit now, headed in anyway? It would at least be a measure of good faith."

  Marshall shook his head, "Then they'd have Desdemona. The only thing giving us any element of control at all is our possession of the moon. If we left, Ma Kong would happily take orbit."

  "Is it that important?"

  Looking at Shirase, Marshall turned back to the watch officer, nodding, "It is. The Belt's economy depends on a big injection of capital, and Desdemona is just the boost it needs right now."

  "That is so. There are many who would consider it worth the risk of war, given the economic ruin we are facing." Shirase looked around, "That is supposed to be classified, but you all might as well
know what those madmen are willing to have you die for."

  "We won't die, Lieutenant," Dietz said, looking up from his station, "My analysis is that the Maru will be destroyed, but will cause sufficient damage to give us a tactical advantage in the battle that will follow. The computer's best estimate gives us an eighty percent chance of victory."

  Marshall replied, "Whereupon the Republic will declare war, and not without justification." He looked around the room at the assembled officers, "Any suggestions?"

  Cunningham looked down at the deck, then moved over to a console, entering figures, saying, "I think there might be one chance left."

  "What is it?"

  "Our interceptors stationed at Shakespeare Station."

  The room grew silent, Caine replied, "They couldn't intercept in time."

  "They might. If they move quickly, and cut into their reserve for a return to Shakespeare. We would have to pick them up. Assuming they survived the battle." His voice was growing quieter, and Marshall saw his white knuckles gripping the console.

  "When would they need to launch?"

  "In forty-five minutes. Interception would take place four hours after launch, with the force being in firing range for eighty-nine seconds. The sooner they launch, the more firing time they will get."

  "The Maru could just change course to avoid them," Caine said, but Marshall shook his head.

  "If they did, then they would miss the Ma Kong. That would be enough. Do we know the specifications of this sort of Q-Ship?"

  Caine looked up from her console, "From what I can find, it was designed as anti-fighter, with modifications to take on larger ships. Several point-defense missiles, as well as some longer-ranged weapons."

  "All they would have to do would be get one hit on their engines, and the Maru is helpless. Once Ma Kong links up with us, they won't dare risk an attack on us both," Cunningham said.

  Marshall turned to his wing commander, asking, "Is this your recommendation, Lieutenant?"

  "It is, sir. I can't see any other alternatives."

  "Anyone have anything else?"

  He looked around the room, but no-one said anything. He nodded, then turned back to Weitzman again.

  "Spaceman, if you would please contact Shakespeare Station. I need to speak to Senior Lieutenant Warren."

  In a shaky voice, Weitzman replied, "I've already got them, sir."

  Warren's face appeared on the screen, broadcast to the whole bridge, "We've been tracking the Maru as it leaves, sir. Can't do a thing about them. Do you think they're serious, skipper?"

  "I'm afraid they are deadly serious, Teddy. How are things on the station?"

  "Settling down. With luck, we should have regained complete control in a couple of hours. Right now they're fighting a rear-guard action in the docking rings."

  "What about the fighters?"

  "We haven't managed to recapture them yet." Warren's face suddenly set, then he nodded. "Do I take it that you want us to make their recapture our top priority?"

  "Teddy, if that freighter is allowed to engage the Ma Kong in battle, there will be war."

  "I understand."

  "Alamo isn't in a position to take any action. We're too far away from both ships."

  "Yes, sir. What are my orders?”

  "Your orders," Marshall paused for a moment, images from his past flashing through his mind, "your orders are to launch as soon as possible, but within the next forty-four minutes at all costs, and proceed to engage the freighter. If possible, shoot to disable."

  "One good hit on the engines should do the job."

  "Yes. That Q-Ship has considerable anti-fighter capability, Teddy, so watch yourself. But at all costs, stop that freighter. Right now you are the only thing that stands between us and another war."

  "I already fought one war. No wish to fight another."

  "Good hunting, Lieutenant."

  "Thank you, sir." There was almost an eager grin on Warren's face as the screen faded into blackness, replaced by an image of Uranus rising over Desdemona. It was a long time before anyone spoke on the bridge. Marshall looked around again, seeing sympathy in the eyes of Caine. Cunningham was staring at the screen, as if he was trying to find something.

  "Mr. Weitzman, send the following message to Mariner Station, attention of Counter-Admiral Remek, copy to the Ma Kong in case it does any good. In my opinion there is no option but to engage freighter Raifuku Maru. On my personal responsibility, as senior commander available, I have ordered an interceptor strike with the goal of disabling the freighter. End message."

  Caine walked up to him, taking a position behind the chair, and said quietly, "You know that we can't possibly get a reply – even if Remek replies instantly – until at least fifteen minutes after the battle."

  "Hopefully I will find it comforting in the aftermath of the battle."

  "And if they repudiate your actions?"

  He smiled, "Then I suspect the following battle with the Ma Kong will be the responsibility of Mr. Dietz."

  She shook her head, and returned to her station, while Marshall stood up, moving over to look at the tactical projection one more time, trying to see if he had missed anything, any detail that might give him another option, while the command crew worked to prepare the ship for a battle they were desperately hoping not to fight.

  Chapter 24

  Elbows jostled in the crowded corridor behind the command deck as a squad of espatiers rapidly made themselves ready for combat. Esposito had less than five minutes to throw together an assault force – every moment of delay as the Maru get further and further from the station, reduced their window of opportunity for an interception still further.

  The only forces available were those actually guarding the command decks; many of them were walking wounded, troopers who had already suffered injuries but had been determined to continue the fight, and others were only espatiers in name only, having only received brief basic training prior to taking roles in station maintenance or administration. At least the lockers on the level had sufficient weapons and armor to equip them all.

  The catch was the three pilots, including Esposito herself. The basic idea was for them to leap into their interceptors and launch as soon as they managed to reach the hangar deck; that meant they were traveling fast and light. No heavy combat armor, because removing it would take precious seconds, and only sidearms instead of the usual combat rifles. Orlova was perfectly happy with that; it fit her usual 'be where the bullet ain't' fighting style, and Warren's training with sidearms was scanty at best. He'd been perfectly happy to let Esposito take the lead until they actually got into the cockpits, while the harried Matsumoto attempted to maintain at least a modicum of order on the station.

  "Listen up," Esposito said, looking across her improvised command. "Our mission is simple and direct – get down to the hangar deck and hold it long enough to get the fighters into the air. Nothing else matters at this point if we can't stop the Maru. We can't afford to do this the right way, we just don't have time. If in doubt, charge. If someone is wounded, we've got to leave them. No option. A medical team will be following us to mop up." She paused for a second, then finished, "Good hunting. Now let's go."

  She took the lead down the corridor, jogging towards a service elevator that would take them part of the way down. The syndicate forces had managed to shut down most of the elevator system, making this a lot tougher; all of them had quickly mapped out the fastest route in their head. Warren looked back at the control room, shaking his head, before taking a position with Orlova at the rear of the group.

  "Leaving a kid like that on her first tour of duty in the hot seat," he said. "Madness."

  "She's doing fine, Lieutenant."

  "Call me Teddy, for God's sake. We'll be riding fire together in half an hour. I hope."

  The last of them filed into the elevator, and Esposito jabbed the button to send it moving to its destination. As had been pre-arranged, the three best shots moved towards the doors, their
weapons ready to fire; it was likely that the enemy forces would be able to track their descent through the levels and would have arranged an ambush. The pilots crouched at the back, protected by the mass of bodies, waiting for what seemed like an eternity.

  "I hate this," Esposito said, quietly, to Orlova. "I ought to be out at the front."

  "Next time, Gabi," she responded. "This time we're precious goods."

  Esposito spoke up, "Sergeant Kozo, burst fire the second those doors open."

  "Chance we might have some bodies in this area, Ensign," the gruff sergeant replied.

  "We'll have to risk it. One man with a rifle could end this whole operation with three shots."

  The doors pinged open, and Kozo's men fired, sending sparks flying off the doors, ricochets clanging around the walls. There was a brief scream, cut dead, and they stepped out to see a young man clutching a rifle, wearing civilian clothes. Kozo looked down at him, shaking his head, his men gathered around him.

  "I wonder what side he was on," he said, quietly.

  Esposito looked up the corridor, "It won't matter if we don't get to that hangar. Four levels down, access hatch ahead. Sergeant, take point."

  "Right." He nodded, "Right, ma'am. Kamio," he beckoned to a trooper with a bandage wrapped around his head, "follow me."

  The two of them made a fast pace down the corridor, the rest of the squad following in loose clumps behind. Esposito and Orlova kept close to the leading pair, Warren hanging near the back. One of the troopers at the rear stopped, firing a couple of shots into the shadows of a room, then turned, red-faced, to Esposito, as the whole unit stopped, crouching near the ground.

  "Thought I saw something. Sorry, ma'am."

  She shook her head, "If you think you see something, take the damn shot. If it turns out you're shooting at a bulkhead it can be repaired later, right now we've got to get through." She looked up at Kozo, nodding towards the hatch, "Let's keep moving."

  Kozo slid open the hatch, swung his rifle onto his back and pulled out his pistol, then started to climb down the ladder, Kamio close behind him. One by one, the troopers climbed into the hatchway, Esposito counting them all in, then climbing herself, followed by Warren. Orlova stepped onto the ladder, the gun-happy trooper from before just behind her, and then a burst of fire came from a side room, a pair of figures running into the corridor. Snapping off a shot, Orlova yelled for help; the trooper grinned, threw his gun to the deck, and closed the hatch shut in front of Orlova. A fusillade of shots rang out, and then all was silent; mechanically, Orlova locked down the hatch from the inside, hanging still for a second.