Battlecruiser Alamo: The First Duty Page 5

   “We all are.”

   “True, but she has a lot more history with him than any of us. That has to be taken into account. She’s hurting, Maggie. We all are.” Shaking his head, he continued, “Cooper and Cantrell, as well.”

   “They are...were heroes.”

   “No one will question that.”

   Looking at the viewscreen, she said, “What’s been happening here, anyway?”

   “It’s actually been reassuringly boring. Quinn tore the guts of the ship apart, replaced all the armor plating on the hull, and that job is about finished; we’ve got the orbital defense network going, though calibrating it is proving to be a bit of a problem.”

   “So we’re ready to go?”

   “Almost. There must be a couple of thousand items on the maintenance list, and Quinn’s determined to run through them all this time.” He frowned, then said, “There was no sign of pursuit, was there?”

   “None.”

   “Then we’ve got time to breathe, before venturing off into unknown space. I don’t think that would be a bad thing, do you?”

   Nodding, she replied, “I think the crew need it. We could all do with it.”

   “So strange,” Kibaki said, glancing at the office again. “Sitting at my station with my back to the Major, sometimes I forget that it is the father, not the son, behind me. Their voices are so similar, did you notice that?”

   “I did,” she replied. “I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

   With a smile, Kibaki said, “He isn’t, you know. Not really. He gave of himself to each of us, to make us better than we were before, and as long as we do not render his sacrifice worthless, or neglect what he gave us, he still walks among us.”

   “That’s a very comforting way of looking at it.”

   “I served in the Interplanetary War. Many of my friends are gone, but some of them still remains.” He tapped his head and his heart, “Here, and here. Where it really counts.”

   The door burst open, and Caine stormed out of the office, glaring at Orlova as she made her way to the elevator. The Major, still white-faced, looked after her for a moment, then turned to Orlova, gesturing with his hand.

   “Come in, please,” he said, and she walked in after him, the door sliding shut. He motioned for her to take a chair, and after a brief pause, she sat down opposite him. A trio of datapads were laid out on the desk, the nearest one holding Caine’s report.

   “Tell me what happened, Maggie,” the Major said in a quiet voice. “In your own words.”

   “We broke into the facility where the Espatiers were being held, and managed to get them out without too much trouble. Everything went according to plan until we got out of the domed city. There was a lot more air support than we’d been expecting, and they mobilized far faster than we’d thought. We were about a mile from the spaceport when they hit our transport, and we had to proceed on foot.”

   “Where the ambush happened.”

   “Three to one odds, and most of us were unarmed. Cooper and Cantrell managed to draw them away long enough for the rest to get onto the shuttle.” She paused, then said, “I saw Cooper being shot in the back, just as we were taking off. We only had a short window to get past their orbital defenses, and we were already running behind.”

   “Cantrell?”

   “We didn’t see what happened to her. She was with Cooper, and I’ve officially listed her as missing. She was either captured or killed, I can’t see any other possibility.”

   “Then?”

   “The Captain was piloting the shuttle, and we weren’t going to be able to get to the freighter in time.” Orlova was looking out to the space, living through the nightmare all over again. “He decoyed me back into the engine room, sealed the hatch, and took us close enough to the nearest satellite that he could cross over to it on his suit thrusters.”

   “According to Lieutenant Caine, there was a window of opportunity for you to rescue him.”

   Gulping, tears forming in her eyes, she said, “We didn’t have time to get him back and still escape the system. I...I couldn’t see any alternative. So we left. Before leaving the system, the satellite disappeared from our sensors. I guess it must have burned up earlier than we’d thought, or maybe the Cabal had destroyed it.”

   “I see.”

   Pulling a datapad out of her pocket, she slid it over to the Major, saying, “Here is a letter resigning my commission, sir. And a request that I be transferred to reserve status immediately.”

   The Major picked it up, skimmed over it, and replaced it on the desk. He looked at her closely, staring into her eyes for a moment, as if trying to see what she had seen. Then he picked up one of his datapads.

   “Lieutenant Caine recommends immediate court-martial, on the grounds of cowardice in the face of the enemy and dereliction of duty.”

   “I will not oppose such an action, sir.”

   “Bullshit. You are very fortunate to have made a friend of Frank Nelyubov, Lieutenant. He made sure that your report – and his – reached my desk before Caine’s. You left out the part where you had been shot in the arm.”

   “It wasn’t important.”

   “More importantly, you left out that my son...that Captain Marshall had previously ruled out any rescue attempts should the mission fail, and that he ordered you to go.”

   “I was commanding Ouroboros. I could have overridden that.”

   “In which case you’d be having this discussion with a Cabal interrogator. As well as everyone else on your ship. I’m not accepting your resignation, Maggie. Nor do I intend to initiate court-martial proceedings against you.” He shook his head, and said, “Tell me something. Did he die well? Was it worth something?”

   “All of them did. And their sacrifice got us away.”

   “Then he died doing exactly what he would have wanted to do, saving his shipmates and serving the Confederation. This has ripped a hole in my soul, Maggie, but I don’t intend to patch it over with revenge. You did what my son wanted you to do, and what I would have done myself in the same circumstances.”

   “He…”

   “I know, Maggie, I know. I’m certifying your report as the official record, and adding Frank’s to the docket as backup evidence in the event of a board of inquiry, though my recommendations will be that you be awarded a commendation.”

   “At best, sir, I only did my duty.”

   “Let me say something. You’ve been tearing yourself up all the way home about this, haven’t you? That you should have thought of something, that you weren’t good enough, stuff like that. Am I right?”

   She nodded, and he continued, “Wrong conclusion. A less experienced officer would have gone in anyway, and probably got everyone killed or captured. That officer would have thought that she could have improvised a way out, even though there wasn’t one, and rendered the sacrifice my son and the others gave a waste of time. You did the right thing, and I’m not going to dishonor his memory by persecuting you for it.”

   The tears were flowing freely from her eyes now, and his were beginning to water as he said, “Maggie, I forgive you. If there is anything to forgive.”

   Her head in her hands, she collapsed on the desk, and the Major sat there silently for a moment, pulling a tissue out of a box and offering it to her.

   Shaking his head, he said, “Get it out of your system. Command is the hardest thing in the universe, and let me tell you a little secret. When there is no-one around, sometimes in my office or my quarters, I’ve gone through exactly what you did, raged against the universe that I couldn’t win it all.”

   “Did it help?”

   “It didn’t change the situation, but I always felt better afterwards.” With a deep breath, he said, “What I am trying to tell you is that you retain my full confidence, and I want you to resume your duties as Operations Officer.” He paused, then said, “In a few days, of co
urse. I’m giving everyone on Ouroboros five days’ leave. You’ve all earned it.” Smiling, he continued, “I'd give you longer, but we'll be leaving this god-forsaken place soon.”

   “Thanks,” she replied as she dabbed away the tears. “I’m sorry about this.”

   “Just don’t ever do it on the bridge. That’s the first rule. A commanding officer can be as emotional as he wants – in private. As long as the crew thinks that he is made of iron, the rest doesn’t matter.”

   “I’ll remember that.”

   Pushing the datapads aside, he said, “Have you been briefed on the current situation here?”

   “Sub-Lieutenant Kibaki filled me in on the basics. I’ll go over the logs tonight.”

   Shaking his head, he said, “There’s no mad rush. The key is that we’ll be breaking orbit for the Shrouded Stars in twenty-two days. That gives us plenty of time to complete our repairs and make sure that the orbital defense network is working properly. I’ve had teams over on Hydra Station doing some repairs over there, and enhancing its systems to something nearer Triplanetary specifications. My guess is that it could outfight a battlecruiser, but I’d rather not put that to the test.”

   “Help could already be on the way. Lieutenant Lane should have got the Dumont home by now.”

   Nodding, he replied, “Nevertheless, we can’t necessarily count on that. I’m certainly not going to wait here for a theoretical task force to arrive.”

   “Of course not, sir.”

   “What about Ouroboros? What condition is she in?”

   Pausing for a second, she said, “I’d be happier if Quinn and his team could give it a once-over, but I think she’s ready for space once her tanks are topped up.”

   “Good. Having a second ship along for the ride might be useful; I intend to put a prize crew on board and take her back with us. Don’t worry, I won’t give you the command, I’d rather have you here. I thought I might give it to Bailey.”

   “What about Nelyubov? He’d certainly be up to it.”

   “I entirely agree, but I’m going to need him here.” With a sigh, he said, “Caine’s requested a rather longer leave from duty, and given her current disposition, that’s not a bad idea. I’m going to name him Acting Lieutenant and assign him to Tactical, at least for the moment. You’ll need to work out a replacement for Guidance Control on Beta Shift, but that can wait for a while.”

   “I’ll work on that, sir.”

   “You want some advice?”

   “Yes, sir.”

   “Take a total break from it all. Stay in your cabin and play loud music. Go over to the station and get drunk. Bury yourself in a good book or two.” With a smile, he said, “What I’m trying to tell you is that I think you need a rest. Don’t force me to make it an order.”

   “I’ll try, sir,” she said.

   “See that you do,” he said in a mock-serious tone.

   “Good. Dismissed, then.”

   She stood up, then paused, saying, “I’d like to speak at the ceremony, sir. If that would be alright.”

   “What ceremony?”

   “The memorial ceremony for Cooper, Cantrell and the Captain.”

   A frown spread across his face, and he said, “That won’t be necessary.”

   “I think I should, Major.”

   “No, you misunderstand, Lieutenant. It won’t be necessary because I have no plans to hold such a ceremony. Reports notwithstanding, I don’t believe my son is dead.” He looked up at her, his face fixed, and continued, “I would know. Dismissed, Lieutenant.”

   Trying to hide her concern, Orlova turned and walked out of the room, back onto the bridge. Kibaki was still loitering around by the elevator, trying to hide that he had been looking at the office door.

   “He turned down my resignation,” she said. “Looks like you are stuck with me for a while yet.”

   “I’m glad to hear it. Are you getting your old job back?”

   “Yes,” she said with a forced smile. “I’m your boss again, at least after five days mandatory leave.”

   “That is an excellent idea. You need time to absorb what you have been through.” He paused, then said, “If you need to talk, I don’t think you are wanting for friends on this ship. Myself included.”

   “Thanks,” she replied, glancing back at the door. “I’m worried about the Major, though.”

   “He is strong. It might take him a little time, but he will heal.” He clapped her on the shoulder, then walked into the elevator and left the bridge. Orlova lingered for a little while, looking at the sensor display; Ouroboros was finishing its docking with the station, and she didn’t really feel as if she had finished our mission until it was complete.

   “Docking successful, ma’am,” Bryant said from her station. “No problems, a nice smooth ride.”

   “I wish the whole mission had gone as well.”

   With at least one weight off her shoulders, she followed Kibaki from the bridge, pushing for the quarters deck. It took her a moment to remember the way, finally treading down the increasingly familiar corridor to her door. She paused for a second at the threshold before stepping in.

   Everything was exactly as she had left it. Her collection of antique spacecraft memorabilia was still spilling off the shelves, the monitor was frozen in a scene from a movie she’d been watching before she’d left, and her clothes were still scattered around the room in the mess she had left them when she had hurriedly packed for the mission. Looking at herself in the mirror, she realized she was still wearing civilian clothes. Her uniform was lying crumpled on the deck, and she picked it up, running the material through her hands.

   Just as she finished changing, there was a chime on the door, and immediately nervousness returned. As she opened the door, she half-expected to see a furious Caine standing there, ready to berate her, but it was Sub-Lieutenant Carpenter on the other side, a smile on her face and a flask in her hands.

   “I just heard you were back,” she said. “I thought you could use some coffee. Probably better than the rubbish you’ve been drinking, we found out that the Neander grow something along those lines.”

   “It’s good to see you, Susan,” Orlova replied. “That does sound tempting.”

   Carpenter walked over to her desk and poured out two cups, passing one of them over to her before sitting down on the bed.

   “I gather you’ve got a few days off,” she said.

   “Kibaki’s been talking.”

   “You should know how fast the grapevine works around here.”

   “Nothing changes, I guess.”

   Taking a sip of her drink, Carpenter continued, “Well, I’ve got a proposition for you. You don’t want to be sitting around up here moping, and you can take my word for it that the pleasures of Hydra Station are barely good enough for a night or two, never mind a week’s leave.”

   “What have you got in mind?”

   “Come down to the surface and give me a hand. We’ve found a site on the southern continent that looks as if it dates back to the original settlement of the planet, and the Major’s been letting me do some work down there. I think we’re getting close to a major breakthrough, some new chambers waiting to be unearthed.”

   “And the Neander? Don’t they mind?”

   She shrugged, and said, “I talked to their Chief of Scouts…”

   “Kormax?”

   “He seemed to think it was fine, and the Major gave me permission. It could be really interesting, Maggie. We might get some real clues about the original settlement of Driftwind, and learn a hell of a lot about our ancestors.”

   “I don’t know, Susan.”

   “Come on, it’ll be a lot of fun. Lots of good fresh air during the day, and getting drunk around a campfire at night. There are about a dozen of us down there, Mulenga’s with us handling the admin side.”

   With a thin smile, Orlova s
aid, “Fine, you’ve convinced me. I would go crazy if I was just sitting up here, and I wouldn’t mind spending some more time down there anyway. It looks peaceful.”

   “It is. Late at night, out in the desert...the place has an atmosphere. It’s so strange, familiar yet alien. You’ve got to see it.”

   “Relax, I agreed already!” she said, taking a drink. “This is good stuff.”

   “Plenty of it down at the campsite. This place is going to have some real export industries once they get going.” Taking a deep swig, she said, “Now finish your drink, and we’ll get some proper kit fabricated for you. We’re losing daylight.”

   “I’ve only been back on board for half an hour…”

   “Which is far too long to wait for you to start your vacation. Come on.”

  Chapter Six

   Cooper felt conspicuous as he walked underneath the flashing neon sign into the bar, despite Cantrell’s assurances that this was one place where no-one would attempt to collect a bounty on it. Inside, the room was a mess, daubed graffiti on the walls, posters advertising products that likely hadn’t been sold for decades, the metal tables bolted to the floor, though signs that someone had managed to get through that restriction in the past showed in the dents on the wall.

   The occupants nicely matched the decor. Everyone seemed to be waiting for someone to make the first move, and half-concealed weapons bulged out of pockets. A collection of somewhat desperate women lingered around the bar, obviously hoping to deprive some of the clientèle of their ill-gotten gains; two of them were gathered around a security trooper who was attempting to sing a bawdy song with little success.

   “Stay here and have a drink,” Cantrell said. “They know me here, so no-one will bother you unless you start something. Try and keep a low profile.”

   “The guard?”

   “On the payroll. Or he’d be six feet under by now. Be back in a minute.”

   Walking over to the bar, Cooper ordered a beer, the safest drink he could see, and placed a note on the table to cover it – unsurprisingly, no change was offered. He took an experimental sip, nodded, then took a deeper one, and resolved to spend as much time nursing it as possible. He certainly didn’t want to drink any more of it, concerned enough about the effects on his stomach of the little he had taken.