“I damn well hope so. The asking price was high enough. Never mind negotiations, though. The big question is whether or not we can hang onto it.”
“I don’t see why not,” Forrest replied. “Now we’ve got the home-field advantage and all the interior lines of communication.”
“We don’t have the manpower,” Cooper said, frowning. “That’s going to make it tougher.”
“Relax, Ensign,” the Sergeant said with a smile. “You don’t need to take all the cares of the world on your shoulders. This is Brownworth’s problem now. Incidentally, she’ll be up here any minute.”
“So?”
“Don’t you want to smarten yourself up, or something?”
Fixing Forrest with a stare, Cooper replied, “That’s the least of our problems right now.”
“Sir,” one of the technicians said, “I’ve managed to establish contact with the fleet. Internal communications are coming on line.”
“Good news,” Cooper said. “That was fast work.”
“Get the encryption systems working before you use them,” Forrest said. “Last thing we need is to have all of our chit-chat sent right to the enemy in the clear.”
“We already have a message coming in, sir,” the technician continued, looking at Cooper. “Your presence is urgently requested on the flagship.”
“On Dragon?” Cooper asked. “What for?”
“I don’t know, sir, but it comes directly from Captain Marshall.”
“What about the other officers on the base?” Forrest asked.
“The only message I have is for Ensign Cooper, Sergeant, and it didn’t give any more details than that.”
“Not for Major Brownworth or Lieutenant Esposito?”
“No, sir. Just for you,” the technician repeated.
“Someone’s playing games again,” Cooper said.
“Captain Marshall isn’t like that, Gabe, and you know it.”
Shrugging, he replied, “I guess I’d better smarten up a little after all.” He looked down at his uniform, smiled, and said, “I don’t think I’ve changed for a week.”
“I wondered what the smell was,” Forrest said with a smirk. “Have fun with the brass.”
“You have a strange idea of fun, Sergeant,” Cooper said as he moved over to the corridor. He paused for a moment, looking around at the signs
of
battle on the walls, droplets of blood still floating in the air, burn marks all around, scattered empty ammo cases drifting in his path. All this waste, and just for a tumbling rock in the middle of nowhere. Shaking his head, he pushed off towards the shaft, heading for the lock. Joking aside, he didn’t want to keep the Captain waiting.
Chapter 2
Marshall lay on his bed, looking up at the monitor on the far wall where an old movie was playing, occasionally glancing at the clock. He was trying to kill time, and he was trying to avoid thinking, neither of which came easily to him. The datapad resting by his side held a report that he would have given anything not to read, but the fresh rank insignia on his uniform jacket, hanging on the wall, was silent testimony that he was the man on the spot.
There was a brief knock on the door, and Caine stepped in, shaking her head as she looked at the screen.
“What the hell is that?”
“Some old Ugandan action flick I found in the archives. Amazing what random walk can throw up from time to time.”
She reached over to a panel, tapped a control, and
quickly
the sound faded to nothing. “Meeting in five minutes.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“You’re the one who called it.”
He flashed her a glare and said, “Do you think for a single moment that I wanted to?”
“No, but now you’ve started down this path, you’re going to have to walk it.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said. I’m with you all the way, but I don’t think that’s going to make it any easier. If it’s any consolation, I think most of the crew will be behind you on this one.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better. This shouldn’t even be a question for discussion.”
“Then cancel the meeting, delete the records, and let things go as they will.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then you’d better pull yourself together and get to work.”
He looked up at her, then said, “One of these days it’ll be you in the hot seat.”
“I’ve been there before, Danny. I didn’t like it.”
“Sometimes it isn’t given to us to make the choice.” He pulled himself to his feet and reached for his jacket. “This isn’t exactly the part of the job I crave. Damn it, I’d rather be back out in Cabal space. At least then I knew who the damn enemy was.”
“There’s still an enemy out there to fight.”
“Yes, but after that, then we have the main event.” With a sigh, he made his way to the door, and said, “Come on, let’s go.”
The two of them walked down the short corridor to the crew mess. None of the scout ships had any meeting rooms worthy of the name, not something that Marshall was too unhappy about in the normal course of events, but they’d had to scramble to accommodate the incoming personnel.
“You really should transfer your flag, you know,” Caine said. “Wyvern’s a good ship, but she really isn’t built for fleet command.”
“She’ll do.”
“There are two battlecruisers floating out there, and Gilgamesh even has a…”
Shaking his head, he interrupted, “Wyvern’s fine for the moment.”
“Danny, you aren’t getting Alamo back. You’re too high-ranked for the command.”
“I know that, Deadeye,” he replied. “Don’t expect me to like it.”
“Like it or not, you’re going to have to accept it.”
“I’m getting there,” he said, pausing at the door. “Let’s get this over with.”
He stepped into the mess, evidently the last one to arrive. Cunningham was standing over in the corner, there to speak for the scoutships, Cooper standing next to him with a puzzled expression, evidently wondering why he was here and his senior officers weren’t. Sitting at one of the tables were the auxiliary commanders, the garrulous Pilsudski and the icy Franklin, each attempting to avoid eye contact. His battlecruiser commanders, Rogers and Gorski, sa
t
at a different table, keeping their distance. Lounging over at the far end of the room was Lieutenant Dragomirov, the nearest thing left to a fleet CAG, still wearing his flight jacket.
Marshall looked around the room, half-expecting to see the more familiar faces walk in. Quinn, Orlova, Race, Nelyubov, Rider, Dietz. The old Alamo hands he’d served with for years. Somehow, it seemed as if there was something missing, something big. Shaking his head, he gestured at the nearest table.
“Gather round, everyone. I’m sorry for the conditions, but hopefully this won’t take too long. Let’s open with a quick status report. How are the battlecruisers?”
Gorski looked at Rogers, then said, “Gilgamesh is ready for battle once again, sir. All combat damage repaired.” He almost tripped up on the ‘sir’, as though he was still unwilling to acknowledge Marshall as his superior. “We can do anything we need to do. Are we going after the Cabal task force?”
“Thermopylae isn’t in as good shape,” Rogers said, reddening. “We’re still having trouble with our laser cannon, and our combat fabricators aren’t in a good way. We need another week.”
“We haven’t got it, Frank. Can Hadfield help?”
Pilsudski shook his head, and said, “They’ve got the components, and we’ve sent over engineering teams. I don’t know why they’re running behind, frankly.”
“Because our damage is an order of magnitude worse than your assessments,” Rogers snapped. “Your repairs are too damn superficial.”
“Gentlemen,” Marshall said. “Get it fixed. I don’t care how. What about our guest?”
“I’ve got my medics working on her,” Rogers said. “Our sickbay is in better condition than Gilgamesh.”
“She wasn’t wounded,” Cooper said.
“Some sort of psychological trauma. I’ve got my staff shrink looking at her right now, then we can start to find out what she knows.”
“When she left me, she was fine,” pressed the Espatier.
“We’ll wait for the report,” Marshall said. “Scouts, John?”
Cunningham shrugged, and said, “Dragon and Griffon are at full capability, Wyvern’s as good as we can get her for the present. She really needs some spacedock time. Nevertheless, my squadron can fight.”
“As can mine,” Dragomirov added. “We’re ready to go. I’ve got our reaction-to-alert launch time down to three minutes in the last simulation. Given that we’re spread out to hell and gone, that’s the best we can do.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant,” Marshall said, sitting down at the edge of the table. “We need to discuss our ongoing mission here. The Espatiers have secured the asteroid, so in one sense our job here is concluded. All we have to do is knock out the remains of that Cabal task force and we can go home.”
There were smiles around the room from everyone but Cooper, who said, “We’re going to need a garrison, sir, and a substantial one. I wouldn’t care to walk down some of those corridors without a guard for a while.”
“Understood, Ensign,” Marshall said. “I’m sure you are wondering why you are here.”
“I certainly am,” Gorski replied. “Where is Lieutenant-Major Brownworth?”
“She’ll be remaining in command of our forces in this system when we leave,” Marshall said. “Given that my main purpose in calling this meeting was to discuss what we will do after leaving this system, there didn’t seem to be any need to have her here.”
“I disagree,” Gorski said.
“That’s your prerogative, Captain, but I think you will understand in a minute.” He glanced at Caine, then said, “Can anyone tell me what our original orders were?”
With a scowl, Franklin said, “Our mission was to take Hades Station, and secure the supply lines to Hydra. If you’re commanding this fleet, I’d hope you were aware of that.”
“Really?” Marshall said, waving his datapad in the air. “Just before the last fleet engagement in this system, I found out what our actual orders were.” Looking at the text, he read, “You will proceed in force to Hydra Station, and serve as a garrison in the event of Cabal attack. You are authorized to conduct reconnaissance of adjacent systems.”
Pilsudski looked from Marshall to Caine, then said in an uncharacteristically calm voice, “Could I see those orders, please?”
Nodding, Marshall passed them to him. The rest of the room waited while the tender commander scrolled through the document, checking the authentication, then reading it again before resting it on the table. He looked up at Marshall again, his face set.
“If that bastard Pierce wasn’t dead, I’d kill him.”
“Walt…,” Rogers said.
Pilsudski leapt to his feet and turned to face the other officers, “I lost fifteen people. Across the whole fleet, how many? Hundreds? An entire company of Espatiers, Mister Cooper. Just because some god-damn contemptible bastard decided to go medal-hunting in enemy territory.”
Cooper nodded, and said, “I had some idea of this on the flight out. We had the wrong force for the job.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Franklin snapped.
“He did,” Marshall interrupted. “To me. There was no evidence of anything but incompetence, and it wouldn’t be the first time.”
“We’re stuck, aren’t we,” Rogers said. “I mean, we can’t abandon Hades, not now. The damage is done, and we’re going to have to work with what we’ve got.”
Shaking his head, Pilsudski said, “I disagree. Let’s leave this mess behind and get the hell out of this nightmare.”
“No,” Cooper said. “We paid too big a cost for that rock. The Espatiers won’t give it up.”
“Are you giving orders now?” Franklin asked.
“He’s right,” Cunningham said. “There’d be a mutiny if we tried, and besides, Frank has a point. We’ve taken this installation, and we’ve fought our battle. Pulling out now would be pointless.”
“How long have you known about this?” Gorski asked.
Taking a deep breath, Marshall said, “About four weeks.”
“Why the hell…,” Pilsudski began.
“Because I wasn’t sure, and it’s taken me most of that time to go through everything and double-check, and because the fleet wasn’t in a position to do anything about it in any case. We had a mission, Captain, and whatever we think of it, whatever led to it, we can’t simply abandon it for nothing.”
“There’s a chance that this is still legitimate,” Caine said. “Alamo’s operated on verbal-only orders before.”
“So has Thermopylae,” Rogers added. “In which case failing to obey our orders would constitute an act of mutiny. You’re in a hell of a position, Danny.”
“Obeying our orders, Captain,” Pilsudski said, “might well have started a war.”
“For all we know, we’re at war. We don’t know what is happening outside this system.”
“We’re the big push, though,” Rogers said. “This fleet and Admiral Tramiel’s.”
“What are you going to do?” Dragomirov asked. “And for that matter, why are we here?”
Looking around at them, Marshall paused for a moment. Had he been looking at his officers from Alamo, he wouldn’t have hesitated for a second. He’d have known how they would react, what they would think, and while they might had disagreed, they’d have backed him up. This time it was very different.
“We should head to Hydra,” Rogers said, filling the vacuum. “After dealing with the Cabal fleet in this system. Admiral Tramiel needs to know.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Pilsudski said. “He must have been in on this. He wouldn’t give away half his fleet without knowing what he was doing.”
“Our orders are to remain on station,” Gorski said. “At least until relieved.”
“Danny,” Caine whispered. “Come on.”
“We’re going home,” Marshall said. “We will deal with the Cabal fleet, and then my intention is to return to Mars and demand a full investigation into whatever happened here.”
“Captain,” Gorski said, “We’re serving officers. I don’t think…”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it,” Pilsudski said. “We’re just meant to be little robots, following orders, aren’t we? Don’t think, don’t consider, just do as we’re told.” Gesturing at the viewport, he said, “And that’s cost a lot of lives – and if we end up at war, it could cost us everything. If this was some sort of terrible mistake, there might be a chance to resolve it without bloodshed.”