Battlecruiser Alamo: Operation Damocles Page 5

   Turning to the Neander, the Koltoc said, “You'd have raided their outposts, not traded with them, and you still would. If you think we're going to let you use this war...”

   “Gentlemen!” Orlova said, hammering her glass on the table, fizzy orange liquid bubbling over the rim. “That's enough!” Taking a deep breath, she said, “One Koltoc ship, and one Consortium, and I'll let you each choose which one.”

   “I insist on a Koltoc commander,” Kilquan said.

   “None of my people would ever serve under one of yours,” Skeuros retorted.

   Before the argument could develop further, Orlova said, “Senior Lieutenant Nelyubov will command the strike force. That's non-negotiable.”

   Kilquan looked at her, then at Skeuros, and nodded, replying, “He's a good choice. A good tactician. I'll accept him as commander.”

   Skeuros looked mutinous for a moment, then broke out into a grin, and said, “I never thought I'd say this, but I agree. Though we'll revert to our usual command structure as soon as we emerge.” He looked at Kilquan, and said, “And I insist that he flies his flag on Red Avenger.”

   “Colonel Kilquan?” Orlova asked, and the Koltoc nodded. “Very well, that at least is agreed.”

   “What is more important than the details of the battle plan is the aftermath.” Looking at Ryan, Kilquan continued, “Naturally, we will be more than willing to organize the defense of Copernicus Colony, as we have done in the past, but if we are to maintain a permanent military presence, I'm afraid there are certain expenses that will have to be met.”

   “Then it does come down to your trade monopoly,” Melnos said, shaking his head.

   Kilquan frowned, and replied, “Stationing a squadron of ships will cost us dearly, as will the maintenance of an orbital defense network. It's only reasonable that my people should be reimbursed.” He looked derisively at Skeuros, and added, “Unless you are willing to contribute, but ceasing your attacks upon our shipping.”

   “We are allies,” Skeuros said.

   “Today, yes, but I think we both know what tomorrow is likely to bring. I'm no fool, Colonel, and I venture I know exactly where we stand. Soon enough we'll be facing each other in battle once more, and on that day, I intend to win.”

   “The Triplanetary Confederation will take responsibility for the defense of Copernicus Colony, pending the decisions of the planetary government,” Orlova said, looking at the two of them. Before either could reply, she continued, “This will only be a temporary measure, if for no other reason than that we will have to return to bring the task force into the fight, though I suspect that my superiors will want to station our forward base at the planet.” With a smile, she said, “Maybe we can turn the Xandari's plan around.”

   “Then you wish to annex the planet,” Kilquan replied.

   “We're not in the business of creating interstellar empires, Colonel. If you want to come to terms with the President of Copernicus, that's entirely your affair. Even if such terms preclude the presence of Triplanetary ships. We would consider that an internal matter.” Glaring at the Koltoc, she continued, “Let's get one thing clear. We're at war, against an implacable foe. We cannot afford division or argument, or we will lose, and then you can try and make some sort of a deal with them. Somehow I suspect that you will struggle to come to acceptable terms.”

   Looking around, Kelot added, “Some of my people may wish to settle on Copernicus. We've got nowhere to go, and living on a world where the air is breathable, where we can be free of oppression, would be a great opportunity.” Turning to Ryan, he added, “We'd pay our way. Technicians, engineers, spacemen, all trained in both Coalition and Xandari technology.”

   “All of this is a matter for another time,” Orlova said. “Once we have defeated the force orbiting the planet, we will move into a defensive posture, and fortify the planet against a potential second attack. Once that has been completed, Alamo will return to the Confederation and bring our task force into the battle.”

   “How many reinforcements are you expecting?” Ryan asked.

   “Four battlecruisers, two assault carriers, half a dozen scoutships, and support vessels for the entire fleet. At least two companies of Espatiers, maybe three.”

   Kilquan shook his head in disbelief. Everyone in the room knew that such a force would change the strategic picture of the region, and that once deployed, the Confederation would be there to stay, one way or another. The Koltoc looked at each other, and Kilquan adopted a smile as he rose to his feet.

   “Captain, we're all out for the same goal, and I can see great opportunities in the arrival of your people into our space. We're traders first, not soldiers, though we'll take up the sword when we must. I hope we can maintain good relations now and henceforth.” Looking around the room, he said, “Our forces will fully commit to this fight.”

   “You know how we stand,” Skeuros said, shaking his head. “All of this talk gets us nowhere. Now is the time for action. Past time.” Taking a deep swig of his drink, droplets running onto the table, he added, “We're in for the fight, and whatever spoils we can raid from the Xandari ships. Good technology, you know.” Turning to Ryan, he added, “We'll want to talk to your government, of course, but that comes later.”

   “Much later,” Kilquan said. “Much, much later.”

   “Then we have an agreement,” Orlova said, turning to Ryan, “Commander, I formally pledge the forces of the Triplanetary Confederation to come to the aid of your world.”

   “We'll never forget this,” he said, looking around. “All of you are heroes, and our people will live free because of the sacrifices you make.”

   “I suggest we all get to our ships,” Orlova said. “We've got a lot of work to do, and no time to do it. The first group leaves in sixty minutes, the rest of us in three hours.”

   Rising to her feet, Harper said, “I'd better get going. See you all in a while.”

   “Good hunting, Lieutenant,” Skeuros said. “Leave some of the bastards for us.”

   “Don't worry, I will,” she said, making for the door, Salazar right behind her. As the meeting gradually broke up, Orlova gestured for Cooper to remain, reaching in her pocket for a box. The puzzled officer moved to sit next to her, his uniform sleeve catching some of the fizzy mess on the table. He shook his arm, shaking his head.

   “Hope that stuff comes out,” he said.

   “You'll be wanting a new uniform anyway,” she replied. “I know you've been working overtime on the new recruits, and don't think I haven't noticed.”

   “Someone has to do it,” he said. “They're good, aggressive, but I'm still worried. The individual troopers are fine, but they're weak in the command structure, and will be until they've had a few battles. If we can keep them in garrison roles, I'll be happier.” Pulling out a datapad, he continued, “I'd like to talk about setting up a force on the planet. Once we defeat the Xandari fleet, they'll send troops down to the surface to start insurgent warfare. That's what I do in their place, anyway. We need to...”

   “Later, Gabe,” she said. “We'll talk about that on the ship, get your platoon commander in on it as well.”

   “Fine,” he replied, before catching himself. “What did you say?”

   She pushed the box across the table, and said, “Open it.”

   He reached for the box, flipped it open, and looked inside, his eyes widening as he saw the rank insignia inside. The silver bar of a Lieutenant in the Triplanetary Espatier Corps. He looked up at Orlova, disbelief on his face, and shook his head.

   “I'm not ready, ma'am. I haven't even been to OCS.”

   “You've got to be ready, Lieutenant. You have a company to command, not a platoon.” Raising a hand, she continued, “Technically, I know that's a Lieutenant-Major's job, but I think moving up one rank is enough for today, don't you?”

   “But...”

   “You have time in rank, an exempla
ry service record, and are set to get an honors degree in Military Science after we get back.”

   “I don't know that yet, ma'am.”

   “Your teachers seemed convinced of it. The only way you're going to be going to Officer Candidate School is if they want you to run the place. You've got the experience and the training for this job, and I have faith in you to carry it out.”

   He looked down at the insignia again, and said, “I never even thought I'd be an officer, Captain. Still less that I'd ever be promoted.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “I won't let you down, ma'am. I recommend Sergeant Gurung as my successor, at least for the present.”

   “I'll be naming him Acting Ensign when we get back to Alamo.” Gesturing at the door, she replied, “Go tell your wife. She'll be getting one of those when we get home, so don't get too used to outranking her.”

   Nodding, he said, “Thank you, Captain.” He rose to his feet, saluted, and walked out of the room, a grin on his face. She watched him leave, then took another swig of her drink, gagging at the cloying sweetness, then looked around the room. Hopefully the next time they had a meeting in this bar, they'd be celebrating the end of a successful campaign, and she could have a real drink. Maybe they could even add another picture to the display. Maybe.

  Chapter 6

   There was only one other person sitting in the observation lounge when Salazar walked in, Ryan sitting alone in the corner, looking out at the simulated starfield. Alamo was in hendecaspace, would be there for the next three days, so the computer was playing recordings of some of their past voyages. Today it had selected Ragnarok, brilliant and white, slowly drifting across from the left. Ryan was studying it intently, examining every detail, before turning with a start as he realized he was no longer alone.

   “Sorry,” he said, turning to Salazar.

   “Don't worry about it. This place does that to you.” Sitting down next to him, he continued, “Beautiful, isn't it. The first habitable planet to join the Confederation, a couple of years ago.”

   “That's habitable?”

   “Just about. It's in the middle of a long ice age, but we're working on changing that. There are ample stocks of fossil fuels, so they're burning them to create a controlled greenhouse effect. In a couple of centuries, the white will change to green.”

   Shaking his head, Ryan replied, “Hard to believe someone would be doing that deliberately. Our histories still talk about what happened to Earth before we left, the ecocaust and the nuclear war.” He paused, then asked, “Have you been there?”

   “Only for a short layover. A few hours. It's turning into something of a vacation spot, though, and the population's growing fast. It might rarely rise above zero down there, but you can breathe the air, drink the water, and that's quite an attraction.” He smiled, and added, “Odd to think that we're crippling our homeworlds by pushing out into space.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “Ragnarok's joined the Confederation, and Jefferson's talking about it hard enough that I reckon they will one day. Thule's habitable, just about, and there are others as well. Why would you want to live in an artificial environment when you don't have to? Once we really start opening up emigration, they'll flood to the new worlds. I'm afraid Mars, Callisto and Titan will be backwaters in a couple of generations.”

   “We'd welcome your people,” Ryan said. “Our world is slightly smaller than Earth, but more land cover. We've got room for tens of millions, easily. Starting with only two thousand settlers has been tough.”

   “Inbreeding?”

   “Let's just say that we're getting very good at genetics. It's not a serious problem yet, but it's something we're going to have to face in a couple of generations. That's the reason we were pushing for faster-than-light technology. We hoped to return to Earth, find out what had happened back there. Though I know most of our people had assumed that they'd collapsed to savagery, we might have been able to salvage something.”

   “The Koltoc never offered you passage?”

   Shaking his head, he replied, “How could they? Earth is ten, twelve jumps from Copernicus using your hendecaspace drive, and the technology we used on the first colony ship was dangerous enough that No one sane would ever risk it, unless you had no choice.”

   The gray-haired figure of Senior Lieutenant Powell, Alamo's Science Officer, stepped into the room behind them, and said, “I'd like to know more about that drive. We've obtained some partial records, but nothing complete. Naturally, any alternate technology for breaking the light barrier could be very useful. The hendecaspace drive has some rather serious limitations.”

   “Maximum range of a little under eight light-years a jump, it eats a hell of a lot of power, it's easy to spot someone arriving in-system,” Salazar added, working through the litany. “And dimensional instability means that you've got to wait for days before you can make another one. It took us months to get out here.”

   “Looked at one way,” Ryan replied, “It took my ancestors five weeks. That was subjective time, of course. Objectively, it took nine years.” Shaking his head, he continued, “That first generation produced some excellent horror fiction after that ride. Though none of them would ever go into details on what happened out there.” Looking at Powell, he added, “Once we've knocked out the enemy fleet, I'll introduce you to our science team.”

   “My people will be very anxious to meet them,” he replied, sitting on the other side of Ryan. “We're getting quite good at investigating new habitable planets these days, but it's hard to take people who've only experienced large-scale ecology in simulations and books and set them loose on one for real. There have been some rather strange papers in the journals lately.” He smiled, then continued, “Most of those are less than three years old, which throws up problems of its own.”

   “Not my field, I'm afraid,” Ryan said. “I'm just a pilot. The Koltoc might not have given us the hendecaspace drive, but they helped us with a lot of other technologies. Enough that we've visited most of the planets in our system. We were about to start asteroid extraction programs.” With a sigh, he continued, “I spent five years on that survey. Three long missions, and an awful lot of planning meetings.”

   “You'll get use out of it yet,” Salazar replied. “This war isn't going to last forever, and once we win you're going to be in a perfect position. You might be a long way from the Confederacy, but we'll be setting up a permanent presence at Testament Station, and that's only two jumps away. Copernicus could be the hub of all our efforts in this region, and an interstellar power in its own right.”

   Frowning, Powell asked, “How far had you got with the hendecaspace drive?”

   “Experimental prototypes. Our first starship is under construction.” Shaking his head again, he added, “I was pitching for the commander's spot. They were down to three candidates on the shortlist, and I was the only one who'd ever left the system.” Turning to Powell, he said, “The Koltoc offered some of our scientists a tour of local systems about fifteen years ago, and I was assigned as their military aide. One of the most amazing years of my life.”

   “Have you solved the Shawyer Threshold problem?” Powell asked. “The greatest stress is always at the point of transition. Once you've beaten that, navigation is your only real issue.”

   “A test probe completed a transit last year, but we couldn't bring it back. Or even work out where it was going.” He smiled, and added, “It's probably still heading towards the edge of the universe as we speak.”

   Nodding, Powell said, “Commander, I'd wager you'll be taking a Copernican starship on an exploratory flight within the decade. Probably well within. You don't need any more fundamental breakthroughs. Just some hard work, and we might be able to help you with some of the details.” He smiled, and added, “Given that you're almost there in any case. I think I'd better start preparing some notes for your research team.”

   “I'd check that with the
Captain, first, Professor,” Salazar warned. “Not that I'm opposed, but technically you are talking about handing over sensitive material to a foreign government.”

   “Professor?” Ryan asked.

   “Oh, my military rank is primarily honorary. To give me a position in the command structure.”

   “Come on,” Salazar replied. “I've seen your service record. Four combat stars in the war, and you were second-in-command of the old...”

   “I was an Astrogator,” Powell interrupted, “and that really was a long time ago. Until this expedition, I'd been a civilian for more than a decade.” Turning back to Ryan, he continued, “I was Professor of Astrophysics at Syrtis Tech. Though I taught a lot of the philosophy courses as well.”

   “Seems like an odd combination,” Ryan said.

   “You'd be surprised how much the two disciplines have in common.” Gesturing at the starfield, he said, “We've visited more than a hundred stars, thousands of planets and moons, and we have equipment that can show us the very edge of reality itself. Even now, we're barely snatching glimpses of the true nature of the universe, and every new discovery only shows us how much we have yet to learn. It's an exciting time to be a scientist. Or a philosopher, for that matter. The boundary between cosmology, philosophy and theology is just a line, Commander, and a damned thin one at that.”

   Silence followed, finally broken by Salazar who asked, “What's Copernicus like?”

   “We're still such a young world,” Ryan said. “Just over a hundred thousand people, most of them in one big city. We made the decision to concentrate in a single area.” His eyes grew warm as he continued, “By the mouth of a river, by the Azure Sea. The beaches are clean, and you only have to walk for a couple of miles to reach a forest, even now. We kept our technology, started with a fusion plant and grew from there. We were so determined not to make the same mistakes. To build a paradise, a haven for mankind.”

   “Most of the colonies had the same idea,” Powell said. “From what we've heard, many of them were failures. Ragnarok was just hanging on before we arrived, and it could have gone either way. Jefferson was regressing, sliding back to pre-industrialization, and Thule was on the verge of extinction.” He frowned, and continued, “The world's finished. Dying, and the people with it. In a couple of generations, they'll all have to move.”