Only the Brave (Lincoln's War Book 3)

by Richard Tongue

   Only a single figure remained, drifting through the airlock, rifle in hand, his suit obviously hastily donned. Two shots barked from his rifle, catching first Zani’s bodyguard, then Tanaka, the first in the chest, the second in the leg. Romano’s eyes widened as he turned his gun on the newcomer, firing three wild shots, a trio of rockets racing towards the target. At that range he could hardly miss.

   He didn’t.

   The body exploded, the fabric of the suit rupturing and adding the force of violently escaping atmosphere to the destructive force of the second and third rockets. Zani slapped her side, releasing the cable that connected her late bodyguard, dragging Tanaka after her as she struggled through the battered airlock, pushing the remains of the dead man out of the way.

   “Good shooting,” she said, as Romano followed. “I think you just got Narik.”

   “To hell with that,” he said, “Raul, can you hear me?” He paused, then repeated, “Raul?”

   “He’s gone into shock,” Zani replied. “Suit will be pumping him full of anything it can to keep him going.” Looking at his leg, she added, “We’ve got to get him into a shirtsleeve environment, right away.” The two of them dragged him through the remains of the airlock, and Zani raced to the wall, fumbling with a safety lock to open a hatch, a rescue ball popping out. Romano wrapped the plastic bubble around his friend, then slammed the control, the inflation sequence engaging as atmosphere inflated the ball.

   “Nothing more we can do for him right now,” Zani said, sliding to the nearest console. “We’ve got bigger problems. Take the short-range sensors. Controls are obvious enough as long as you aren’t doing anything crazy. Basically the same as the ones in the gas collector.”

   “On it,” he replied, working the controls, fumbling through the inflexible gloves. “I’ve got the shuttles, on escape vector. Looks like they’re trying for Santos-Dumont and Yamantaka.” He paused, then said, “Where the hell is our fleet going? It almost looks as though they’re planning to dock with the station.”

   “Maybe they are,” Zani replied. “Prisoner rescue, a boarding party? Who knows.” She flipped a switch, then said, “I just know that nobody’s going to be using that defense grid until we want them to.” Looking across at the sensor display, she added, “Five of our ships are on your tail, Lieutenant. They’re going to catch you just short of the station.” Shaking her head, she continued, “What are they carrying?”

   “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a hyperspace core.” Looking at Zani, he asked, “Can I signal Komarov from here? We need to know what they’re planning if we’re going to help them pull it off. Assuming, of course, that you’re on our side.”

   “I don’t think I’ve got much of a choice at this point, do I?” she replied. Throwing a switch, she added, “Channel’s open, but I have no ability to encrypt a message. Anyone on the station, or on the fleet, will know what you’re planning. I can’t even tightbeam. Not at this range. Still anxious to talk to them?”

   “You really think it’s going to change the tactical situation? As far as I can see, Lincoln’s about to be wiped out by most of the Guilder fleet, our fighters are scattered all to hell and gone, and the escort fleet has decided to sample the tourist delights of this little Shangri-La. I’m not convinced that the battle could be going much worse for us right now. Unless this is all someone’s insane plan, in which case we really need to know what it is, immediately.”

   “Clip your cord into the panel in front of you. I’ll start releasing the rest of the prisoners.” She paused, then tapped another control, “I’ve ordered a general evacuation. Hope you don’t mind that I’m giving my crews a short head-start. The last thing we want is some of the prisoners deciding to get their revenge before leaving.”

   Turning to her, he said, “Justice can be a little inconvenient at times, can’t it.”

   “I mean that we need everyone to move as fast as they can. We’re going to be right in the middle of the battlespace in a minute, and that’s not a healthy place to be.”

   “Romano to Komarov Actual. Romano to Komarov Actual. Come in.”

   “I read you, Lieutenant,” Flynn replied. “Major Volkov’s a little busy right now.”

   “This is an unsecured channel, Commander, but I need some orders. We have control of the station’s security office for the moment, but...”

   “Company’s coming! Ten guards, Corridor B!”

   “But that’s not going to last for long. Are you coming in for prisoner pickup?”

   “Long story, Lieutenant, which I’m hoping to get a chance to tell you later. For the moment, I need you to start feeding all the power you can to the main docking torus. Run everything as hot as you can. Then be ready to get out of there when I give the word. We’ll do our best to get you out of there before we complete our mission.” He paused, then added, “Can you do something about those bastards on our tail?”

   “I think so,” he replied. “See you shortly. Out.”

   “We’re no wiser,” Zani complained. “We still don’t know their battle plan.”

   “No, but at least we know they’ve got one.”

  Chapter 23

   “Closing on target,” Flynn said, looking at the sensor display. “Coming into the enemy defense grid now.”

   “I hope Romano’s trigger finger isn’t itchy today,” Volkov replied. “Nice and steady, helm. We’ve got to get this right on the first try, or it’s all over.”

   “Engaging docking thrusters,” the helmsman replied, sweat building on his brow. “Major, that enemy formation has timed its attack almost exactly for our final approach. I won’t be able to maneuver. We’ll be a sitting duck.”

   Nodding, Volkov stabbed a control, and said, “Komarov Actual to Leonov Actual. Do you read me, General?”

   “I read,” Markova replied. “We’re moving into defensive formation right now, but I can’t guarantee that no shots will find their mark. You’re going to have to move as quickly as you can if we’re going to have any chance of pulling this off. How long to charge the core?”

   “Once we’ve established the interface, eleven minutes, General,” Flynn replied. “Then detonation, eight minutes after that. And it can’t be stopped at that point. Even if the Guilders destroy the core, the worst they can do is just bring the fire early.” He looked at the helmsman, and asked, “Do you think you can get out of here in eight minutes, Spaceman?”

   “I guess there’s only one way to find out, sir,” the young man replied. “We’ve got to dock first, Commander. That’s going to be a work of art with our center of gravity screwed up like this.”

   “Energy spike from the defense grid!” the technician at the sensors reported. “Imminent firing pattern, multiple vectors!”

   “Christ,” Volkov said. “Hang on, everyone! Damage control teams to emergency stations!”

   “Firing!” the technician said. He paused, slammed a palm on his console, and said, “The grid’s targeting the Guilders, Major! We’ve got a clean run, all the way. Looks like the enemy fleet is breaking off.”

   “Against that much firepower, they don’t have a choice,” Volkov said. “Leonov Actual, this is Komarov Actual again. Looks like we’re going to be nice and safe here. Recommend you head out and help Lincoln and Titov. They’re going to be in the middle of a firestorm, any time now. Leave Santos-Dumont at the rear of the formation to pick up escape shuttles. Anyone in this system in a quarter-hour’s going on a one-way ride to infinity.”

   “Are you sure you can hang on back there, Komarov? If you lose control of the defense systems, you’ll be completely unprotected.”

   “That’s a risk we’re going to have to take,” Volkov replied, glancing at Flynn. Left unspoken between the two men was the knowledge that the odds of them successfully escaping the system were remote at best, that they were likely on a one-way mission. Sacrificing the rest of the fleet to save their
own skins didn’t seem like a particularly good trade.

   “In that case, Major, good luck, and I’ll see you on the other side. Markova out.” The channel snapped shut with odd finality, and Volkov glanced at Flynn, resignation in his eyes. Komarov was getting ever closer to the station, the helmsman playing his thruster controls like the professional he was, gently guiding the lumbering ship into position. Flynn knew the scale of the task they were asking of the young pilot. Docking a starship was difficult enough when both sides were cooperating, the target sending a stream of telemetry, able to move at the last second on thrusters to complete the lock.

   This was a hostile target, and the black hole was another complication, the gravity waves taking their toll. At this distance, they couldn’t seriously affect Komarov’s trajectory, but a distortion of a few centimeters at the wrong moment could make the difference between a successful hard dock and an uncontrolled crash. Flynn longed to move to the helm, take control himself. No pilot ever truly felt comfortable being flown by someone else, but he looked at his arm, grimaced and tried to settle into his station.

   “I felt the same way when I got my commission,” Volkov said. “Fedor knows what he’s doing. He’s the best helmsman in the fleet.” With a wry smile, he said, “At least, the best helmsman still on active service.”

   “Thirty seconds to docking,” the helmsman said. “Landing thrusters to full power. I need sensors watching the star and the station, best possible resolution. And nobody make any sudden moves.” His hands danced over the controls, playing one thruster against another, delicately guiding the ship into position. “Come on, old girl, come on,” he muttered, firing one last pulse to bring the ship to a stop, the boom of the docking latches settling into position.

   “All hands, arm yourselves!” Volkov said, rising to his feet. “As soon as they realize what we’re doing, every Guilder left on the station will be trying to stop us. We don’t have enough guards on board to hold a perimeter, but we’ve only got to stay attached for ten minutes. Take command.”

   “No,” Flynn said, shaking his head. “Your place is on the bridge of your ship. I’ll handle it.”

   “You’ve got one arm,” Volkov replied. “This ship can be commanded from the seated position.” Gripping Flynn’s shoulder with his hand, he said, “I trust you to do this. That doesn’t come easily, or quickly. There’s nobody I’d rather leave my ship with. Do what you have to do. That’s an order, Commander.” Cracking a smile, he added, “Besides, you think I want to sit up here and miss all the fun?” Volkov left the bridge, and Flynn looked down at the vacant chair, knowing all eyes were resting upon him. With a sigh, he took the captain’s chair, and looked up at the helm.

   “I have the conn,” he said. “Status of the engines?”

   “All nominal,” the helmsman replied. “As soon as we get rid of our dead weight, we ought to be able to get clear in a hurry. I’ve armed the explosive bolts, and we’re ready to depart on your command.”

   “Signal Romano,” he said. “We’ve got a little more time to talk to them now.”

   “Aye, sir,” the communications technician said. “I’ve got him, Commander.”

   “Lieutenant, this is Komarov. Ivan’s got me minding the store. What’s your status?”

   “Better than I was expecting, Commander,” Romano replied. “We were under attack, but about a minute ago the enemy forces left. I presume they’re heading your way, but a lot of the internal sensors are out of commission right now. Someone probably trying to do everything they can to keep off the radar.”

   “Status of the power feed?”

   “All nominal at our end, flowing fine, and so far, they haven’t tried to stop it. I’m not sure what they could do without blowing up half the station, but I’m not convinced they won’t try something once they realize where it’s going.”

   “Confirmed,” Zani added. “I just got a shot of a dozen people heading down Corridor Nine-C. That’s right towards the docking torus. You’re going to have company any time now, Commander. I hope you’re ready to take it.”

   “Who are you?” Flynn asked.

   “That’s Commander Antonia Zani, Jack, the commander of this facility. I know what you’re thinking, but suffice to say that it’s a long, long story. I’ve got Raul with me as well, but he’s wounded and in deteriorating condition. Have your medical bay standing by.” He paused, then said, “Just what the hell are you actually planning, anyway. Nobody’s bothered to tell us yet.”

   “A temporal bomb,” Flynn said.

   “Did I hear you right?” Romano asked.

   “Yeah, you heard me right. We think we have a way of recreating the hyperspatial effect that brought us here, on a larger scale, using the black hole to boost the power. To be honest, the theory is mostly guesswork, but every expert we talked to is convinced that something immensely destructive is about to take place in this system.” He paused, then asked, “Can you get out of there, Lieutenant?”

   “Not in that little time,” Romano replied.

   Turning in his chair, Flynn asked, “Sergeant, do we have a shuttle rigged for remote operation ready to launch?”

   “Yes, sir, but given the conditions...”

   “I can fly it for you, sir,” the helmsman said.

   Flynn stepped over to him, and said, “Fedor, right?”

   “Yes, sir.”

   “This has to be volunteer. Has to be. If I could take it out myself...”

   “As you said yourself a moment ago, sir, your place is on the bridge of this ship.”

   “If we run out of time...”

   “I know, sir.” With a beaming smile, he replied, “Don’t worry, Commander. I’ll be there and back before you realize it.”

   “Are you that good?”

   “Sir, I’m better.”

   “On your way,” Flynn said. “And we’ll see about a commission when you get back. I have a feeling General Markova owes me one for this.”

   “Aye, sir,” the pilot said, racing to the elevator. Flynn reached forward to the controls, slaving the helm console to his station, using his good hand to plot their escape course, looping out of the system. It was marginal at best, but they had a chance, albeit a slim one, of reaching the gravitational threshold before detonation. He looked up at the viewscreen, watching as a series of stars rose from the station, curving towards the fleeing Santos-Dumont, taking the riskier path out of the system.

   “Jack, you’ve got incoming,” Romano said, his voice echoing over the speaker. “We just saw a mob heading down Corridor Five-B. Big, dozens of them. Looks like some of the guards and some of the prisoners have banded together.” He paused, then added, “I don’t think they give a damn about the temporal bomb. I think they just want off the station, and you’ve got the only ride out of town.”

   Tapping a control, Flynn opened a channel to the docking airlock, and said, “Major...”

   A rattle of gunfire echoed through the speakers, and Volkov replied, “It’s pretty bad down here! We’ve got a dozen soldiers trying to get through, and they’re bringing up some heavier equipment.” A low rumble obliterated his voice for a moment, before clearing to allow him to continue. “...heavier firepower.”

   “You’ve got more incoming,” Flynn replied. “Lots more.”

   “They’ll overwhelm us, Jack. They’ve tried to take the power terminal five times, and it’s getting harder and harder to stop them. Is there anything you can do?”

   “Lieutenant?” Flynn asked.

   “We can start slamming some of the internal bulkheads, but they’ll be able to override them pretty damned quick,” Romano replied.

   “There’s another answer,” Zani said. “Give them another way out.”

   “What?”

   “I can fake transmissions telling them that a second escape ship has docked, over on the underside of the station, and is ready to evacuate th
em. That should divert all of the rioters, though it won’t do anything for those actually attempting to repel boarders.

   “You can’t do that,” Romano said, the rage filling his voice. “Anyone left on the station will be sent on a wild goose chase. They’ll run past the escape craft to flee to a ship that isn’t there. You’d be killing hundreds of people.”

   “Technically, Commander Flynn and his crew are killing hundreds, perhaps tens of thousands of people, through the detonation of their bomb. Those shuttles don’t have much chance of getting clear anyway.” She paused, then said, “What’s more important to you? Morality or victory? Because right now, you’ve only got room for one of them, and you’re going to have to make that decision pretty damned quick.”

   “Commander Zani,” Flynn said, his voice shaken. “Do it. Send the false message. God damn us all to hell for it, but I don’t think we’ve got a choice.”

   “Jack,” Romano protested. “We can’t do it.”

   “What choice do we have, Lieutenant?” Flynn snapped, hating every word he spoke. “If we let them come on, they’ll storm the ship, and the mission fails. Or we’re stuck here, and they’re all dead anyway. There’s nothing we can do to save them if they aren’t willing to help themselves. There are millions of people on Zemlya depending on us to make this mission a success, and I will not let them down while there is any chance of victory. Do I make myself comprehensively clear?”

   “Yes, sir. We’ll wait for your shuttle. Romano out.”

   Flynn sat back in the chair, and the communications technician looked up, and said, “You made the right decision, sir. For whatever it’s worth.”

   “I made the expedient decision. The only decision. That doesn’t make it right.” He sighed, then turned to the sensor station, and asked, “How long before the Guilder formation makes contact with Lincoln.”

   “Any second now, sir. Do you want me to put an image on the viewscreen?”