Accord of Honor (12 page)

“That’s not what you want. It’s not what we want, either,” the voice went on. “Instead, we want to offer you life. Real life: the chance to unite under one rule and build a great civilization under one voice.”

My comms officer broke in. “Sir? Call from Admiral Perrault.”

“Put him through,” I said. I made a new tab on my screen and Barry’s unsmiling face appeared there.

“Are you hearing this?” Barry asked.

“I am,” I replied.

The radio continued to spill out the enemy’s demands. “You have twenty four hours to consider your position,” the faceless enemy speech went on. “Surrender is inevitable. We will continue pounding the planet until you do surrender. We will kill each national leader who refuses, scorch the entire city around them, and then ask the next leader the same question. Eventually, someone will see reason. The only question that remains is this: how many of your people will you allow to be killed before you see the light?”

I could feel we were heading into endgame, now. “Full alert, battle stations,” I ordered.

All around the bridge, men and women made ready for combat. I could almost feel the thrum of their anticipation through the ship’s hull.

“Nick,” Barry broke in – his connection was still good. “Our ground based radar is picking up two clusters of ships inbound. Looks like six ships per cluster.”

“Send me the data?” I asked.

“It’s already on its way.”

Our brief reprieve was over. I wondered what Earth’s response would be. They’d already lost so much. And we’d proven we could not defend them against the full force of these attacks. Plus, we would run out of missiles eventually, and the enemy had effectively unlimited ammunition so long as they kept using rocks for weapons.

“Sir, I’m checking over the data Earth is sending us. Those two groups of ships are on a convergent course. They’ll link up in a couple of hours.”

I yanked the radar plot up on my screen. No way we could intercept either group before they met up. They really had planned well. Being unseen while keeping us in sight had given them enormous tactical advantage. Now we’d be forced to face the full twelve ships at once, and that was if twelve was really all they had. I wouldn’t put it past them to hide another few ships out there, lying in wait.

“Accelerate both our ships,” I tapped my screen and drew a line for a vector. “We need to put some distance between us and those ships. Need to wait for the right moment. Kick us around the other side of the planet from their rendezvous point. We’ll sit tight there for now,” I said.

What I didn’t say was that I needed badly for the enemy to make a mistake. It was still six to one odds, like the so called ‘Battle for Mars’, but the Inde had a lot less tubes than the Defender, and I wasn’t sure how well her captain would handle a high pressure fight. So far he’d done well, but he hadn’t been fired on while in command yet, either.

We needed them to make a mistake. I stared at the plot and prepared myself for a chess game – with the winner charting the course for the next hundred years or more of humanity’s future.

W
e were
a day closer to Earth and the enemy was still hot on our tails. They were clearly tracking us, but stayed just outside of missile range and unable, or more likely unwilling, to get inside that range and engage us. That might mean they weren’t aware of the Constellation’s missile control problems, and if so I was grateful for the small blessing. We needed a way to shake them off our tails though, or they were going to catch and engage us the instant we slowed down for approach to Earth.

I managed to catch a nap at long last and woke feeling a bit better rested. The bridge crew reported no change, and no luck yet getting the missile controls working. I hoped we could get them functional in time. Meantime, we still had enemy ships to fry, somehow. But an even engagement of missile tubes seemed risky at best, especially with so many of the crew from my ships inexperienced with the weapons operation. I was sure the enemy had plenty of firing practice. But where could I get help to even the odds? Earth, of course, if Defender and Indefatigable were there. But most likely they had troubles of their own.

There was one other place I might be able to get some help. I called up system maps. Yes, it just worked out. We’d lose about a day, overall, but it was the only place between here and Earth we might be able to shake the ships tailing us.

I
opened
the communications window on my console to contact the other ships. Secure laser comms were the best bet – no way for the enemy to listen in, and we had good line of sight so it was safer than radio.

James had settled on a martial sounding name from early space flight for his ship’s new name: Excalibur. I approved. I was sure Dad would as well – he loved stuff like that.

“This is Constellation. Need a brief conference with your captains.” There was a moment’s pause, and then James and Kel’s faces popped up on the monitor. “I want to make a small heading change. Sending you the new directions now.”

Another pause, then James came back, “Thom, that course takes us out of alignment from a shortest time transit to Earth. And there’s nothing out there. Is there?”

“There is indeed,” I said with a grin. “There’s a secret SSI station out there.” I related how when my father and I first went out on a courier, we had tripped a bucket load of active radars. I had never found out for sure, but I had a hunch that the base was very well defended indeed.

“But you don’t know for sure,” said James.

“Well, no. But I know my father. He would have fortified the place before he even started work on building an armed ship. And I can’t imagine that he hasn’t added to the defenses over the years he’s had the place active. I think we can get some solid help there. Plus, worst case and they can’t help us, we simply slide on by. The station is masked pretty well and won’t be picked up unless they fell right on top of it. Maybe the courier we took is still there, and can grab our noncombatants and bring them to Mars.”

“It sounds like it’s worth a shot,” Kel said. “But how will they know not to blow us to bits when we approach? You have a pass code or something?”

“Family passwords, yes,” I said. “They’ll know it’s me and if I use the right code, they should use every available asset to help.”

“Well, we’re with you, Thomas. Your command, your call. Changing course now,” James said.

Our three ships rocketed along at the new vector. Time to make a phone call and hope someone with some firepower was listening.

I had to use radio, this time. I couldn’t see the station, and I had only a best guess idea of where it should be in its orbit. I knew our course would bring us close, but not where it was precisely enough to use a laser comm. So I broadcast ahead of us using a standard SSI emergency frequency, with company encryption – and signed it with my name. Even if it was intercepted, decrypting it should take long enough to be irrelevant. It still wasn’t as secure as I’d like; if they had broken our encryption or bought out the wrong person, they might be able to hear every word I said. But it was the best I could do.

“This is Thomas Stein, commanding a task force of three ships with two enemy ships in pursuit. We are in need of assistance in dealing with the enemy ships, and in offloading rescued hostages if possible. However, we are on a fast track to Earth and cannot decelerate or we will lose a dangerous amount of velocity from our approach. By all reports, we’re needed there badly right now. Can you assist us? Sending my authentication and emergency code.”

Then I waited a few minutes. A few more. Finally, my comm tech said, “Sir, we’re being pinged by a communications laser from somewhere ahead.” Finally.

“Put it through,” I said.

Meg’s face popped onto the viewer. “You Steins have a knack for trouble, I think,” she said. “You’re right. Your father is in it deep. He’s blowing up rocks as fast as the enemy ships can pitch them at Earth, but they’ve got both his ships running ragged over there. More help will be welcome; he’s definitely outnumbered.”

She went on, her mouth becoming a thin, grim line. “Now, your little...problem...is something we can take care of for you. Stay on your present course and do not under any circumstances change your heading. We’re computing flight paths to avoid your ships, but if you change course, you’re likely to fly into something nasty.” She shook her head. “You went out with one ship, sent that one home and came back with three more. Plus you removed their ability to use the hostages against us. Not bad, Thom. Not bad at all.”

“Took out two other ships of theirs as well,” I said, smiling at the praise.

“Yes, well, if you’re keeping score, your father has taken down three. Go catch up.” Then her voice became more serious again. “He needs you. Don’t slow down at all, keep accelerating. We’ll launch the courier shortly to pick up your noncombatants. It’s fast enough to match velocity with you in a day or so, dock and take them on board.”

“Sounds good. Oh, you have any good electrical techs you can send over with the courier? We’re having a problem with the missile racks on the Constellation.” Quickly I outlined the issue.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Meg said. “Got to run. Out.” And the transmission ended.

I called the other ships again, passed on the message to not change course no matter what we saw coming our way. I was just in time. Ten minutes later, we saw the flare of a ship acceleration ahead of us – the courier. I hoped the station really could deal with our tail problem because although the courier was fast, there was no way it could boost fast enough to stay outside their missile envelope. It would catch up with us in another day or so, but they’d be all over it long before then. And it had no defenses or weapons at all.

More time passed. We were closing on being neck and neck with the courier. Pretty soon, it would slip behind us and then we’d be forced to either leave it to be destroyed, or turn and face the pirates. I hoped Meg had something really good up her sleeve. That’s when I heard my radar tech gasp.

“What is it?” I said. I jerked my gaze to the radar plot. Active pings were showing up everywhere. We were surrounded by active radar buoys, and they were lighting us up. It was a kill zone, a huge kill zone. I remembered all the sensors that pinged Dad and I when I first came out here. I had a feeling we were about to see the defenses attached to those sensors.

“Missile launch! Multiple missiles, multiple sources!” the radar tech shouted out. I sat watching the plot. The pirates tried to launch their own missiles at a couple of nearby radar buoys, which predictably had fired off antimissile rockets of their own. But then dozens – no, scores – of other buoys around the region launched missiles at the pirate vessels.

In a matter of seconds, nearby space was filled with missiles, hundreds of them.

The pirates’ vessels had some minimal missile defense, and they tried their best, firing salvo after salvo of rockets at the incoming mass of missiles. First one, then two, then fifteen of the attack missiles were blown to bits. There were so many that fifteen wasn’t nearly enough to matter.

Two minutes after the massive launch, both enemy ships were gone. Not damaged, not a wreck in space. Just gone, nothing left but a fast-spreading debris field scattered by the explosions that had reduced them to dust and shrapnel. I whistled softly to myself as the station’s defenses went cold again.

“Good thing Dad doesn’t believe in taking chances and doesn’t mind overkill,” I said softly.

T
he courier caught
up with us the next day. In preparation for transferring non-combatants over to the courier, we’d shifted them all over to the Constellation. One link-up, the courier could load us up with supplies, and take on their new passengers for return to Mars. The little ship was built for speed, and came up on us quickly. Soon, the courier was nestled snugly up against the side of my ship.

I was down to meet the crew Meg said she was sending. The hatch slid open, and standing there was Meg, herself. I gaped for a moment.

“Permission to come aboard, Captain?” she asked.

Her gentle reminder helped. I pulled myself back together.

“Granted!” I said. “And gladly. I was hoping you could send some help, but never dreamed you’d come yourself!”

“Thom, I’ve served your Dad on this project since it started. I know missile integration better than just about anyone else alive. If anyone can get their systems working with one of our ships within the two day window you have left, it’s me. Besides, I had a hankering to see this thing through to the finish, and I’m sure a good engineer wouldn’t be a bad thing to have on board in a fight.”

I agreed instantly, and accommodations were set up for her and the three crew she’d brought with her. She also had three more engineering crew for each other the other ships, bringing them out of red line staffing and into something much more manageable.

Two hours later, the courier was winging away with most of the hostages we’d rescued. The ones who were staying with us were mixed in with crew from the Inde and folks from the R&D station, so we had a good block of folks trained for combat mixed in with those who were not. Still, I ran a series of drills to get the squadron into fighting shape before we reached Earth. Two days was too short, but it was better than nothing and all we had. I made use of it.

We ran the ships through scores of damage control drills, ranging from fires to depressurization to missile impacts. We ran a long series of simulated missile launch drills and early on the last day of our transit, we were cruising past a few small rocks in space and used them as target practice for some live fire. The Constellation’s missile control was still a mess. Meg thought she had the problem identified, some sort of compatibility issue between the software in the missile bays and that in the newer model of main computer. But she hadn’t gotten it working.

“Yet,” she insisted. “I just need a bit more time.”

Time was something we were running out of. We were cruising in toward Earth at a crazy velocity. There was no way we could decelerate in time at this point, but we didn’t plan to use the drives to brake us. We’d swing into a tight Earth orbit and aerobrake, using Earth’s atmosphere to slow our speed and dump our velocity. It was going to be tricky, but the computer on Constellation was up to the task of calculating precisely the course needed for each ship. It gave us a high probability of not burning to a crisp.

But still no missiles. We were six hours from being in Earth’s outer active radar, and probably about that time we’d be spotted by the pirates. Those missile racks were a constant worry to me. Without them, Constellation was little more than a big target.