Retreat Hell (35 page)

***

Pete Rzeminski disliked being a prisoner.  He knew how to wait, he knew how to be patient ... but there was nothing at the end of the line, apart from death.  The planetary government wouldn't hesitate to execute him for his crimes, even though they'd committed the crime that had brought him into the war.  Would the fighting have been so bad without him and his allies?  Perhaps so ... or perhaps it would have been worse.  Hundreds of tiny movements rather than one big one, all trying to outdo their rivals as well as fight the government.

He tested his cuffs again, but there was no hope of escape.  His captors had undergone the same courses as himself, he knew; they understood how best to keep him prisoner.  He was mildly surprised they hadn't knocked him out or stuffed him into a stasis tube, which would have rendered escape completely impossible.  But they had probably decided it didn't matter, he told himself.  There was no hope of escape.

The door opened, revealing the young female Marine from earlier.  Pete wondered, absently, if his words had made an impact on her, but suspected it didn't matter.  If he'd been on active service, he probably wouldn't have switched sides no matter the cause.  Even if she wasn't loyal to the local government, she would be loyal to the ideal of the Corps and her comrades, the men and women she fought besides.  And then she squatted down next to him.

“This planet is about to be attacked,” she said, quietly.  “By Wolfbane.”

Pete lifted his eyebrows.  “Wolfbane?”

“You must know that they are the ones who supplied you with weapons,” the Marine snapped.  “Or didn't you bother to ask for any ID?”

“I didn't choose to ask,” Pete said, softly.  “We were
desperate
.”

“I suppose you were,” the Marine said.  “Listen carefully.”

She briefly explained about the assassination attempt on Avalon, the identity of the would-be assassin and the discovery of an enemy fleet within striking distance of Thule.  “You have to know they probably want more from you than just your neutrality,” she concluded.  “Like it or not, your world is one hell of a prize.”

“I see,” Pete said, when she’d finished.  “And what would you like me to do?”

“I have an offer for you,” the Marine said.  “When their fleet arrives – if their fleet arrives – I am prepared to release you.  In exchange, I want you to ensure that your people don’t join with Wolfbane when they land.”

“That might be tricky,” Pete observed.  “You do realise they might suspect I was conditioned, while I was in your custody?”

“It’s a possibility,” the Marine agreed.  “But we’re running out of options.”

“You must be,” Pete said.  Inwardly, he was impressed.  Marines were always
brave
– that was a given, after Boot Camp and the Slaughterhouse – but it took guts to make a decision that could easily bring her career to an end.  Hell, the local government might demand her head on a platter after she let him go.  “I also don’t command
all
of the insurgent cells.”

“Do what you can,” the Marine said.  She stood.  “If the shit hits the fan, you will be released.  I would suggest, quite strongly, that you took your people out of sight.  If they walk up to the newcomers ...”

“They might be exterminated,” Pete said.  Years ago, he’d served on a world that one of the giant interstellar corporations had wanted to bring under its wing.  One particular group of rebels had been supported until they’d won the war, then they’d been quickly captured and shipped to penal worlds by their backers.  “I don't know how many will follow my lead.”

He paused.  “But I can give you a suggestion,” he added.  “When you disperse your forces, disperse them into Riverside.”

She frowned.  “Why ...?”

“The people who live there are the people they’ll want to take alive,” Pete said.  “And you might be able to use them as human shields.”

Her face twisted, disgust warring with the grim understanding that it might be the only thing between her people and a quick death.  He understood; human shields were weapons of the weak and dishonourable, not Marines and other honourable men.  But there might be no alternative.  Orbital bombardment would shatter her units if the enemy took control of the high orbitals.

“We shall see,” she said, finally.

Her wristcom buzzed.  She glanced at it, automatically.

“I think we’re out of time,” she said, after a moment.  Pete sat up, despite the cuffs.  “A large enemy fleet has just entered the system.”

Their solutions, as such, relied on far too many assumptions, starting with the simple assumption that it was possible to appease the aggressors.  The social scientists created plans for reservations for each ethnic group, which were then forwarded to Imperial Army commanders with instructions to implement them immediately.  Unsurprisingly, the reservations could not have been created save by the mass relocation of tens of thousands of people – which would be bitterly resisted.  The plan floundered upon reality.

-
Professor Leo Caesius. 
War in a time of ‘Peace:’ The Empire’s Forgotten Military History.

It felt
good
to command a fleet once again.

Rani allowed herself a tight smile as the fleet shook itself out and advanced towards Thule, making no attempt to hide its presence.  She had wanted to command a fleet in action since she’d joined the Imperial Navy, but few of her fellow officers had ever had that chance.  The Imperial Navy had been so overwhelmingly powerful, at least on the surface, that few had ever dared to challenge it directly.  She wasn't just commanding a fleet, she was starting the first true interstellar war for over a thousand years.  It was the very pinnacle of her professional career.

“Launch drones,” she ordered.  “Get me a direct laser link with the hidden sensor pods.”

She watched as the display rapidly filled up with information.  Thule
was
a valuable prize, by almost any definition.  It wouldn't need years before the system became a productive part of the Wolfbane Consortium; it would only require a small number of occupation troops and some deals with the local corporations.  Rani had no doubt the corporations would play ball, not when the alternative was mass deportations and the installation of a new ruling class.  No corporate CEO had ever shown a trace of integrity.  They’d sell out their workers in a heartbeat if it gained them one more iota of power.

And they will work for me
, she thought.  She’d learned a great deal from her stint as a military dictator – and, she wasn't afraid to admit, from Governor Brown himself.  People without integrity could be manipulated into doing the dirty work, without forcing Rani to get to closely involved.  They’d try to profit for themselves, of course, but it didn’t really matter.  All that mattered was that they did as they were told to do. 
And I will use this system as a base for my expansion
.

She cast a greedy eye over the hundreds of asteroid mining stations and industrial nodes.  A few weeks of occupation and they would all be working at maximum capacity, fuelling the assault on the Commonwealth.  Rani had a great deal of confidence in her fleet train, but having a base of operations a few light years closer to their ultimate target would be very useful.  And it would even benefit Thule itself to become a war production node.  The insurgency she’d supported would no longer have a cause for war.

Her lips curved into a cruel smile.  There was one great advantage of supplying the insurgency; it ensured that the local government’s forces were drained before her forces ever started to land.  And it pushed the local government to confiscate weapons, disarming a population that might become a major threat, given time.  And it weakened the insurgency as well ... weakening the CEF was just the icing on the cake.

“Admiral,” the sensor officer said.  “The long-range sensors report a Commonwealth squadron in high orbit near the planet.”

Rani nodded, pleased.  She’d half-wondered if the Commonwealth would have pulled out completely – it didn't take a genius to work out that Thule was high on the list of principle targets – but having a chance to catch and destroy a small squadron of enemy starships was definitely something to exploit.  It took months to construct even the smallest starship, ensuring that any losses she inflicted now might not be replaced before the war came to an end.  And the Commonwealth would have the choice between fighting – and being destroyed – or abandoning the planet.

And if they take that option
, she thought coldly,
their allies will not trust them to defend their worlds
.

“Keep us heading towards the planet,” she ordered.  “Let them come to us if they want a fight.”

It would be hours, she knew, before the two fleets entered weapons range.  The Commonwealth ships could avoid engagement easily, if they chose to do so.  It wouldn't be difficult at all.  But if she kept heading towards the planet, they’d have to choose between abandoning Thule and making a stand.  And if they picked the latter, she would have a definite opportunity to destroy their entire squadron.

More data kept flowing into the display as they moved closer and closer to Thule.  The planet was surrounded by orbital stations, some armed to the teeth.  No one had attacked such a heavily defended world for hundreds of years, unless one counted the sneak attack on Corinthian.  She couldn't help feeling a hint of tension running through her body as she contemplated testing the tactics the Imperial Navy had devised over hundreds of years, but never used in action.  It was quite possible, she knew, that she could die in the coming engagement.

She’d thought herself used to the thought of a violent death.  The Imperial Navy was hardly a safe occupation, even in its glory days.  Even if there had been no enemy to fight, there were still accidents, dangerous rescue missions ... and the very real threat of being knifed in the back by a senior officer.  Hadn't
she
been exiled to Trafalgar for refusing to open her legs for her commanding officer?  But that commanding officer was dead now – she’d issued the kill order personally – and her ambitions had taken her far.  Maybe she had suffered a reversal along the way – more than one, really – but she kept climbing her way back up the ladder towards her goal.

Her lips quirked. 
Empress Rani
.  It had a ring to it.

Certainly more than the Childe Roland
, she thought, wryly.  She sometimes wondered what had happened to the teenager who should have taken the throne.  Was he dead on Earth or had he escaped, taken by his security officers to a hidden redoubt?  She suspected she would probably never know ... not, in the end, that it mattered.  If she ever met him again, she would have him executed before he could appeal to any of the loyalists on Wolfbane.  For once, she and Governor Brown would be in perfect agreement.  Roland would have to die.

She watched the display as dozens of freighters, some clearly interstellar designs, broke loose from Thule and started to flee.  Most of them headed up or down, away from the system plane, hoping to reach the Phase Limit before they could be run down by the advancing enemy fleet.  Rani had no intention of giving chase, in any case.  It would divert her forces from their primary task; securing the planet and its priceless population of trained technicians.  She had ambitions for those trained men and women, ambitions she knew Governor Brown shared.  They’d be very helpful when it came to building Wolfbane’s industry to a point it rivalled the once-great network surrounding Earth.

And what
, she asked herself,
happened to Earth’s industry
?

The mistakes of the past, she vowed, would not be repeated.  Maybe her subordinates – Governor Brown’s subordinates – would build their own power bases, but there would be limits.  They would not be allowed to bully their own subordinates, let alone force them into bed, not when it would create resentments that would tear Wolfbane apart.  There would be struggles for power – Rani was a strong believer in survival of the fittest – but there would be rules.  And the struggles would not be allowed to turn violent.  People tended to be less rational when there was a strong possibility that they would end up dead.

She settled back in her command chair and watched the fleeing freighters.  They’d be back soon enough, she knew, once the war was over.  There would be nowhere else for them to go, not after the Commonwealth and the Trade Federation were destroyed.  They’d come back to civilised space and Rani would welcome them back.  They wouldn’t even face the crippling taxes and fines the Empire – at the behest of its corporations – had piled on independent shippers.  There was no point, Rani had learned the hard way, in killing the goose that laid the golden eggs.

“Launch a second flight of drones,” she ordered.  “I want you to keep a close eye on that squadron.”

***

Mandy sat in her command chair and watched doom advancing slowly towards Thule.  It wasn't the entire fleet she’d seen at Titlark, but it was large enough to crush her fleet in open battle.  The absence of a handful of ships, including two battleships, was actually quite worrying in its own right.  Where had
they
gone?

Plenty of other targets along the border
, she thought, as the enemy fleet grew closer and closer. 
They could be overrunning them all by now
.

She watched the display as the drones revealed the full extent of the enemy fleet.  Three battleships, each one clearly in excellent working order.  Twelve heavy cruisers, nineteen destroyers and four colonist-carriers that probably served as troopships.  The calculation of just how many troops the newcomers could land on Thule was not remotely reassuring, not when the enemy would have enough firepower to take and hold the high orbitals.  They’d be outnumbered, but they’d have vastly superior firepower.

The enemy were playing it smart, she noted.  Instead of trying to chase Mandy all over the star system, they’d selected a target they knew she had to defend – or abandon the system completely.  If she stood in defence of Thule, she ran the risk of losing her entire squadron; if she pulled out, she disgraced the Commonwealth and risked denting its reputation as a defender of its member stars.  And yet, if she fought a close-range battle, she would almost certainly lose her entire squadron.

Assume they don’t have force shields
, she told herself. 
Could we win the coming battle
?

She scowled as she ran through the options in her head.  Maybe they could, if they were lucky, but the enemy capital ships could produce gravity shields, if not proper force shields.  Her fleet wouldn’t be
equal
, no matter what she did; the sheer level of ponderous firepower bearing down on her was enough to overwhelm her, force shields or no.  The irony – her modern cruisers could probably have danced rings around the older ships – was chilling.  All she could do was delay the enemy for a few hours, if that.

And if they’re willing to soak up losses and keep coming
, she thought,
they will be orbiting Thule within four hours
.

She switched the display to monitor the loading.  It was difficult, moving troops at such short notice, but the CEF was slowly pulling out of Thule.  But it would take far more than four hours to evacuate the entire formation, assuming the locals didn’t object.  No matter what she did, Mandy realised, the incoming attack fleet was going to catch at least two-thirds of the CEF on the ground.

If she stood and fought near the planet, she could combine her firepower with the planet’s defences.  It was a tempting thought, she knew, but it would also doom her fleet.  They’d be unable to run as the invaders bore down on them.  And she knew she didn’t dare risk heavy losses.

Silently, she made the decision she knew had been inevitable right from the start.

“We’ll go with Omega-Three,” she said.  A couple of her officers looked shocked, but the others understood.  They didn't dare risk a close engagement with the enemy fleet.  “Alert the crews.  We will leave orbit in thirty minutes.”

She stood and walked towards her office.  Jasmine needed to be informed ... Mandy felt her heart clench in pain as she realised Jasmine wouldn't leave until all of her people were safely loaded onto the transports.  And there was no time to load them all before the enemy reached orbit.  No matter what she did, Jasmine – the person who had straightened her out and prepared her for life on Avalon – was doomed.  There was no way out.

Perhaps they’ll accept surrenders
, she thought, as the hatch hissed closed behind her. 
But will Jasmine consider surrender?

***

The alarms had started to howl while Daniel had been in the middle of an emergency meeting with his Cabinet.  It hadn't been a very productive meeting – not all of them had been prepared to believe that there was an incoming threat that justified pulling back from the Zone – but he disliked it when his meetings were interrupted.  His objections had faded away, however, when he’d been escorted back down to the secret bunker, just in time to see red icons appear on the deep space tracking display.

“We have a large fleet of unknown origin heading towards us,” the operator said.  “I don’t think they’re friendly.”

“That’s a least-time course from Titlark,” another operator added.  “They’re from Wolfbane.”

Daniel sat down and stared at the display, feeling his mouth suddenly become dry.  An enemy fleet, a
real
enemy fleet, was in his system, advancing towards his planet.  Suddenly, bitterly, he regretted the loss of the Empire.  They'd all thought the days of interstellar war were in the past.

A thought nagged at his mind. 
But would we have been allowed to remain autonomous indefinitely
?