“Who is this…,”
“Novak,” Corrigan interrupted, “Get that probe into the sky. We might not be as alone in this sub-system as we thought. Bring the ship to alert status, and have Volkov get the weaponry fired up.”
“More paranoid…” Novak began. “Damn it, threat warning! Enemy vessel inbound, coming around the far side of Triton. Looks like a Cyrus-class Cruiser, weapons hot. I guess they figured that as soon as we launched the probe…”
“We can outrun them,” Carter said.
“Maybe, but we’re not going to,” Corrigan replied. “If they manage to get a signal back to the Belt, this mission is over before it even starts. We’ve got one chance to bring them down, and we’re going to take it. Fancy getting a first bite of that payback you wanted?”
“Sure.”
“Then take over Engineering and give me all the power you can. Let’s see what this ship of ours is like in a firefight.”
Chapter 9
The Vault was one of Earth’s best-kept secrets, an inheritance from the final, dreadful years of the Nationalist Wars, when an ever-smaller number of monolithic nation-states battled for supremacy both on the surface of Earth and among the stars, armed with weapons so terrible that their use would have wiped all life from the planet, perhaps brought all humanity to a final end.
The Central Asian Republic had built the Vault as a final repository of life, designed to house a hundred humans for a hundred years, deep within the surface of the Earth. The treaties that had brought the wars to an end and unified the planet had mandated the destruction of all such facilities around the world, but the smallest of the deep bunkers, the Tashkent Vault, had been deliberately overlooked, retained instead as a secret command and control center for Earth’s nascent Space Forces, immune from any conceivable orbital bombardment, security tight enough to prevent any sabotage.
Commodore Laura Maddox waited impatiently for the elevator to reach the bottom of the shaft, waves of light periodically rushing over her as a visual indication of the sensor sweeps that were checking for any sign of trouble, anything that shouldn’t be there. A stone-faced guard watched her from the wall, and cameras looked down from every angle.
Finally, the doors slid open, and she walked out into the corridor beyond, a loud crack as the doors closed behind her, locking her into the facility. Nothing that took place in the Vault was recorded, no detectors present as soon as you reached the maximum-security area. Lights flashed on as she walked underneath them, triggered by the motion sensors.
There had been a lot of modifications over the years, updates to keep the systems current with the state of the art, but considerable effort had been taken to make sure that the nature of the bunker remained intact. A reminder to those working within to ensure that they never let such a situation happen again, that humanity should never be brought so close to the brink of disaster, of extinction. A lesson learned at great cost, never to be forgotten.
Ten years before, Fleet Command had moved to a new, custom-built facility in Houston, built on the ruins of the long-abandoned NASA headquarters. Maddox had assumed that the Vault, always cramped, showing its age, had been abandoned at that time. The summons had come as enough of a surprise. The destination was far more so. She walked through the final door, another guard nodding her through, into the heart of the facility, Operations.
She’d spent a grim year working in this oppressive place at the start of her career, more than two decades ago. It was little enough pleasure to be back, especially given the disrepair evident in the facility, the monitors that had once tracked dozens of warships across light-years of space now cold and dark, only a single monitor now operating, trained on distant Triton. Standing over it were two figures, one familiar, one not.
Admiral Alvarez looked up at her approach, smiled, then said, “Thanks for coming down from Gateway at such short notice. I’m afraid your tour of duty is going to have to come to a somewhat abrupt end, but once you know the reason why, I doubt that you’ll have any serious objection to that.”
“Admiral, I’ve still got nine months left, and…”
“I’ll explain in a moment,” she replied. “I believe you know Major Clyde Rojek, my senior aide. And one of Fleet Intelligence’s top operatives.”
“Major,” Maddox said.
“Always a pleasure, Commodore.”
“I presume this is something to do with Avenger,” Maddox said.
“A fairly safe guess,” Alvarez replied. “How did she get away?”
“The hijackers had help,” Maddox said. “Lieutenant Carter, certainly. I had considered her a loyal member of my engineering staff, and Commander Hanson was in complete agreement with that. She was under consideration for promotion. I guess the Belters got to her first.” Taking a step forward, she continued, “Admiral, we must face the very real possibility that we have been infiltrated, that the Belters have managed to work their way into the heart of our command structure. Fleet Intelligence has to get involved.”
“Trust me,” Rojek replied, “Fleet Intelligence is thoroughly involved.”
“Commodore,” Alvarez said, “Would it surprise you to know that I was not in the least disturbed by what happened up there in orbit? That my office was responsible for both the recall of Pericles and the two shuttles being instructed to adopt what might be considered a sub-optimal strategy?”
“You knew this was going to happen?” Maddox asked. “You knew that the ship was going to be hijacked, and…”
“That ship, Commodore, was hijacked on my order,” Alvarez replied. “And is presently engaged in a decoy operation against the Belters. You’ve been brought in for two reasons. The first is that, frankly, you know too much. When this operation was planned, you were scheduled to be off-station…”
“I had to cancel that leave,” Maddox said.
“Precisely. Captain Endicott, in all honesty…”
“Sam Endicott is a pencil-pushing chair warmer,” Rojek said.
“He’s excellent with the administrative duties, Major,” Maddox said. “He might not be the most dynamic command officer in the Fleet, but I think you may be somewhat underestimating his abilities. We can’t all be dynamic, dashing space captains. Or…”
“Accepted, accepted,” Alvarez interrupted. “Anyone with real command potential is either commanding a starship or will be in the next twelve months, anyway. Present company not included.” Folding her hands together, she added, “What happened to your career, Commodore?”
Maddox’s face darkened, and she replied, “You know damn well what happened. You were there, three years ago.”
“Fleet Exercises at Mercury,” Alvarez said, turning to Rojek. “Then-Captain Maddox was commanding a cruiser squadron in the Red Fleet, under the late lamented Admiral Klein. He lost.” She smiled, then added, “To be blunt, he was totally annihilated, and he managed to arrange for Captain Maddox to be the scapegoat. Of course, that didn’t stop you getting flag rank, but it did rather mean that the chances of you getting a posting worthy of that rank were slender. He had a lot of friends, that one.”
“If he’d been half as good at commanding a fleet than he was at socializing, we might actually miss him,” she replied.
“It might interest you to know that the architect of his demise is currently commanding Avenger,” Alvarez said. “Commander Corrigan.”
“We spoke,” Maddox replied. “That court-martial was a farce.”
“I agree completely,” Rojek said. “I was on the bridge when Klein died, and I know what Corrigan managed to save the fleet from. Odds are that every ship in the Interstellar Squadron would have been wiped out. As it was, we sustained some serious damage fighting our way back to Earth with the merchant convoy. We’ve been refitting them at the Lunar Orbital Yards.”
“Not Gateway?” Maddox asked. “I thought…”
“Three reasons,” Rojek interrupted. “The first was that Gateway Station is somewhat overworked at the moment. I know I don’t ha
ve to tell you that. We’ve used the Lunar shipyards to take some of the pressure off, especially as there were no immediate plans to send the Interstellar Squadron out again. Not for a while, anyway.”
“I still think it’s a mistake,” Maddox pressed. “They’re civilian.”
“True,” Alvarez replied, “but they do undertake all sorts of covert work, and they’ve been on the cutting edge of warp technology. At least, as far as Earth’s concerned. One of our little problems is that the Belters are years ahead of us in starship design.”
“Regardless…”
“The second is political,” Alvarez continued. “The last thing we want is for Belter sympathizers to gain any ground on the Moon. By handing them some good, lucrative contracts, we win favor with a lot of key players. I’m afraid that it all comes down to that, in the end. The third is security. Don’t take this the wrong way, but Gateway Station is leaky as a sieve. It’s inevitable, really. The Belt is going to concentrate the bulk of their operations up there. I would in their case.”
“We’re doing everything we can…,” Maddox protested.
Nodding, Rojek said, “This isn’t a matter of apportioning blame, Commodore. We’re all aware that you aren’t personally responsible for any of this. There’s no such thing as a perfect system, and certainly no way to lock everything down, especially on a major shipyard. Ten thousand workers on the station, hundreds of people going back and forth every day on dozens of shuttles? It’s a miracle it isn’t compromised to an even greater degree than it is.” He looked over at a console, smiled, then said, “Excuse me, please.”
As he walked away, Alvarez continued, “What this also means is that we have a chance of catching the enemy completely by surprise. Avenger is a part of that plan, though I admit that we didn’t totally brief Commander Corrigan of his role. He’s a lightning rod. He’s going to cause trouble, and he’s going to draw down a substantial Belter force.” She grinned, then added, “Maybe even Goliath, if we can lure the bastard out and catch her off-guard. While she’s loose out there, we’re vulnerable. Take her down, and we might be able to hurt the Belters as much as they’ve been hurting us. Hit their convoys, their outposts, their supply lines.”
“If you’ve sent him out to die, you could have used a less-valuable ship,” Maddox said. “Avenger’s the fastest thing in space, and her armament is state-of-the-art and then some.”
“That’s precisely the appeal,” Alvarez replied, her eyes gleaming. “We had to make the potential gain as great as possible if we were going to attract the attention of the Belters. I don’t want to take down one ship, or two. I want to throw the Interstellar Squadron into a battle worthy of the name, one that will both restore public confidence down on Earth and perhaps change the strategic picture a little, open up the stars to attack.”
“The Interstellar Squadron is ready?”
“As of last week,” the flag officer said. “All three ships are ready to go.”
“We’re getting the beacon signal nice and strong now,” Rojak replied. “Everything looks good. They’re at Triton, pretty much as we expected. I’ll make contact with our monitor satellites, get an up-to-date image of what’s going on out there.” He looked at his watch, and said, “They’ve been there for about thirty minutes, as far as I can work out. I’ll have more details for you in a minute.” He frowned, then added, “Wish we had a sensor tech or two.”
“Why am I here?” Maddox asked.
Alvarez smiled, and replied, “And there I thought you were ambitious.”
“Are you offering me the squadron?”
Nodding, the admiral said, “That’s precisely what I’m doing. You’ve been on the beach for far too long, Commodore. It’s time to get you back into the fight. I’ve assigned Commodore Baines to replace you. He’ll be arriving at Gateway tomorrow morning. No major gap.” Taking a step forward, she said, “Everything is ready for you to assume command. You can spend the rest of the day going over all of the reports, then head up tonight. Major Rojek will accompany you as your senior aide, and I will be along for the ride as well.”
“Admiral, if I’m in command…”
“Let’s just say I want to see this one through to the end,” Alvarez replied. “Once this mission is completed, I’ll be returning to my other duties.” She looked at Maddox closely, then said, “Not many people get a second chance, Commodore. You could very easily end up sitting on the bench for the rest of the game. One dud assignment after another, until they put you out to pasture. This is your chance to prove that you’re not the command officer everyone thinks you are. This is your chance to get into the fight.” Folding her arms, she added, “If you don’t want the job, then tell me know, and I will find someone else. Someone who might appreciate this opportunity more.”
“Admiral, there’s an old, old expression about looking a gift horse in the mouth that appears to be all too relevant in this context,” Maddox replied. “Having said that, I naturally accept. I’ll fly my flag on Glorious, and I’ll transfer over with Major Rojak and the rest of my staff. I’ll want Lieutenant Moreau from Gateway Station as my junior aide.”
Nodding, Maddox said, “I’ll cut the necessary orders right away. Don’t worry, Commodore, I think we’re going to prove to be a good team.”
“I’ve got the image from Triton coming through now,” Rojek said. “Nice and clear.” His face dropped, and he added, “Christ, Avenger isn’t alone out there. I figured they were just spending an hour or so to get used to the ship, fix any defects caused in their escape and work out what to do next.” Turning to Alvarez, he said, “I didn’t expect Corrigan to start a firefight.”
“Who with?” Alvarez asked, as Maddox walked over to the monitor.
“A Belter cruiser, looks like Cyrus-class. She’s armed and loaded for bear, and as far as I can see, Avenger’s heading right for her at maximum speed.” Looking up at Alvarez, Rojek added, “He’s got Corrigan cold, ma’am. Avenger’s not even at battle stations as far as I can tell.”
“Tactical assessment, Commodore?” Alvarez asked.
“In theory, Avenger should be able to take them,” Maddox replied. “Though not unless they can get themselves into fighting trim in a hurry.”
“What are they doing?” Alvarez asked. “Could the ship have been damaged somehow in the escape, something wrong with their combat systems?” She turned to Rojak, and said, “Well, Major?”
“I’m getting a telemetry feed from our beacon, Admiral, and there is no evidence of any damage of that type. Nothing at all. As far as I can tell, Avenger is in good shape for a battle. I don’t understand it either.”
“I do,” Maddox said. “It’s not enough just to win the battle. They’re going to have to win the battle in such a way as to not overplay their hand.” She smiled, turned to Alvarez, and continued, “By your leave, Admiral. I’d like to go and start to prepare myself for assuming command of the squadron.”
“Don’t you want to watch the action?” Rojek asked.
Shaking her head, she replied, “Unless we’ve got some sort of billion-mile-range superweapon lying around, there’s nothing we can do to influence the course of the battle. I know Bill Corrigan well enough to know that he’ll do everything possible to win. I wouldn’t bet against him.” She looked up at the monitor, and added, “And neither should you.”
Chapter 10
“Enemy ship is closing fast, Commander,” Volkov said, informality fading away under the gleaming crimson light of the alert status monitor. “They’re coming around the far side of Triton at high speed. Sir, I need to start preparing the weapons systems for action. The defensive turrets aren’t going to be enough. If…”
“Not yet,” Corrigan said, settling in the command chair, watching the battle. “Not until we’ve blocked line-of-sight. I don’t want anyone to see what we’re about to do. If we play our hand now, then this mission is over before it even starts, and speaking purely personally, I’ve been through far too much to concede that no
w. Singh, how long before we’re in cover?”
“One minute. Enemy will be in range in three. They’re matching course and speed, so we can assume that we’ll be in the firing line for as long as they want us to be. Unless we get out of the way.” The technician paused, then added, “And to answer your next question, we’ll have eleven minutes to do whatever it is you’re going to want to do.”
Tapping a control, Corrigan said, “Bridge to Engineering. What’s the status on the warp drive? I’m going to want to get out of here in a hurry.”
“Commander, you’re asking the impossible,” Collins protested.
“Absolutely. Make it possible. We’ve got to be out of here in ten minutes. No more. That’s all the time we have left, or you might as well down tools now. I’ll want a course plotted for Sigma Draconis Nine.”
“No promises,” Collins said. “We’ll do what we can. Engineering out.”
“If they can’t…” Dixon warned.
“Then I’ll just have to think of something else,” Corrigan interrupted. “Helm, prepare for evasive action, but don’t make any moves yet. I want that ship to think that we’re just a lightly armed freighter.” Turning to Dixon, he said, “Any idea on the ship’s identity?”
“Registers as the Vostok, sir, under the command of Ken Jones. I’ve pulled the record, and he strikes me as being somewhat reckless. Anxious for promotion and eager for anything that might get him a step up.” He paused, then said, “No combat experience at all, and he’s spent his entire career on escort duty.”
“Interesting,” Corrigan said. “He wants a coup, and he wants to be the hero. He’s also hungry for action. Let’s give him what he wants. Volkov, I want a firing solution on our point-defense weapons.”
“Commander, there’s no way we can inflict any serious damage…”
“I know that, you know that, he knows that. I want to make him mad. I want him to open himself up. Stand by to raise our screens and arm our weapons systems when I give the word, and I want everything working within thirty seconds of the command.”
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