He had to keep the platoon moving, get them to work on their instincts without giving them a chance to think. If they paused for even a moment, they’d be running back to the shuttle. There’d been a time when he would be going right along with them.
A figure moved up to his side, Krueger, a plaster slapped on his cheek with blood already running through it. He pointed at Cooper’s communicator.
“Any news from the other assaults?”
“I don’t even know if the other landings took place,” he replied. “You all right?”
“Bit of shrapnel, nothing more. Lost another of my men, wounded.”
“One minute,” Cooper said. “Here’s the shaft, Corporal. Head right down two levels, leave a couple of guards at the half-way mark until we reach the bottom.” Turning back to Krueger, he said, “Beresford with you?”
“No, why would he be?”
Cooper’s face instantly reddened, and he yelled, “Sergeant, get up here now!” At the far end of the corridor, past the shaft, another group of Cabal soldiers was moving up, a fire team throwing fire back at them to try and drive them away.
“Yes, sir?” Beresford asked.
“I gave you an order to relieve Krueger.”
“I never heard it, sir.”
“We should all have such selective hearing, Sergeant. Listen good and loud. Take command of that fire team back there, and hold off against any attack until the rest of the platoon is down the shaft. If you aren’t the last man through, I’ll have your stripes. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, growing pale. He moved over to the fire team, Cooper holding back for a moment watching the rest of his men move up. They were moving with a fluidity that belied their inexperience, but not cautiously enough; they were too ready to expose themselves to potential attack, and that worried the hell out of him.
As Second Squad moved past, he pushed off, heading to the front of the formation, pushing himself down the shaft; he could hear the sounds of battle at the bottom, and swung out into the corridor with his rifle ready, taking a couple of wild shots into the distance, past Corporal Fuller’s pinned-down fire team. Half a dozen Cabal soldiers were waiting for him, all lining their weapons onto him as he raced towards them, but that was the opportunity his people had been waiting for, and they rapidly took full advantage of it, sending their tumbling bodies spinning around the corridor.
Fuller pushed up to him, and said, “I thought you were staying at the back, sir.”
“What, and miss all the fun?” he replied with a smile. “We’re going left, but scouts down in both directions, please. And quickly.”
As she raced to comply, he pulled his communicator out again, still frustratingly out of contact. They weren’t that deep inside the asteroid, not deep enough that they should be having any problems like this. He looked up as he heard shooting from the top of the shaft, echoing down, and his quick count of the platoon revealed three missing, including the Sergeant. At least he had died well.
Shaking his head, he pushed over to Fuller, returning from her patrol, and said, “You’re Sergeant now. Mason?” he asked, looking around for the private that had caught his eye earlier. “You’re taking Fuller’s spot as Corporal. Take the flanking point and drive on down the corridor. With a little luck, we’ll have that communications station in minutes.”
Krueger pushed up to him, and said, “The shuttles will have kicked off by now.”
“Doesn’t matter. We’re cut off from the airlocks anyway until our second wave gets here.”
He looked around, and said, “We’ve been on board for ten minutes, and we’ve had five dead and three wounded. We can’t keep this up.”
“We get to the commo base, and we’ll have a strong defensible position and a way of getting the tactical net back on-line. We’ll salvage something from this mess yet, but I’m still going to have strong words with the Major when we get back.”
“You and me both.”
Fuller yelled, “Ready to move, sir! Third Squad’s rear guard to hold the shaft.”
“Good, Sergeant,” he said. “Move out! All speed!”
The platoon raced down the corridor, an arrow leaping from the bow towards their destination. The forward fire team had their weapons out, and anything that was unfortunate enough to cross their path paid for it with their life before they had a chance to fire. For once, he had overwhelming force on his side, but he was conscious of the fact that enemy forces would already be closing on him from all directions.
Up ahead, the communications complex was held by only a pair of guards; one of them managed to get off a desperate shot before being overwhelmed by the advance, and Mason was the first one into the room, Cooper just behind her.
Inside were a trio of terrified technicians, two of them Neander, scrambling for cover behind some chairs, their pistols floating in the air. When Mason saw the humanoids, her eyes widened, and for a second he thought she was going to pull the trigger.
“Stand down, Corporal,” he said, then turned to the technicians, and said, “Any of you speak English?”
“I do,” one of the Neander said in a shaky voice. “Are you from the Alamo?”
“Indirectly, yes,” he replied. “Turn off the jamming field, and do it right now.”
Troops were beginning to stream into the room, and Krueger said, “You trust it?”
“I trust him,” Cooper replied, “and it will be a damn sight faster than trying to do this ourselves.”
The Neander threw switches, and his communicator instantly burst into life.
“Cooper to any station, any station,” he said, forgetting military protocol.
“General evacuation,” he heard, a voice cutting through the static. “Got to get out right now! The Admiral’s order!”
“We can’t!” one of the troopers yelled. “The bastards have abandoned us here!”
“Stow it, Private,” Fuller said, her eyes uncertain.
“Ensign,” one of the others said. “Look at the screen. That’s the carrier!”
The Neander looked across, and said, “We were monitoring the battle.”
“Battle? What battle?”
Cooper turned to the screen, and his eyes widened; the carrier was gouged and torn, hulls ripped through the hull armor, the superstructure exposed to space. There was a faint halo of debris surrounding her, and she was obviously struggling to maneuver. Almost too quickly to see, a dozen missiles raced in, catching her from all angles, and with one brief explosion, it was all over, tumbling wreckage where once a starship was.
“My God,” Fuller said. “What the hell do we do now, sir?”
“Form up into defensive positions, Sergeant, and prepare for a siege.”
Chapter 17
Marshall stared with horrified fascination at the disaster unfolding in front of him on the tactical display, escape pods from the Trident scattering in all directions as the wreckage tumbled, the little remaining atmosphere leaking out into space, sending the ruined ship twisting and turning around.
“The battlecruisers are on a wide course, sir,” Ronay reported from the sensor station. “They won’t be back here for four days.”
“Four days?” Cunningham said. “Are you sure of that?”
“Not without significant fuel expenditure, Captain. There are tankers on the way to pick up their fighters.”
“Are any of our forces in position to get them, Deadeye?”
“None,” she replied, frowning. “We’re scattered all over the system.”
“Why wait four days?” Kelso asked from the helm. “Fuel expenditure or no, if they turned back towards us they could wipe us out in minutes.”
“Not without loss,” Marshall said. “My guess is that they are giving us a chance to pull out our forces and leave the system. If they can drive us out without a battle, then all the better
.”
Caine looked up, and said, “There might be some justification for that. Gilgamesh is reporting serious damage to its communications and tactical systems, and Thermopylae isn’t much better. They took some pretty big hits trying to shield the carrier.”
“If they have operational shuttle bays, get them to pick up the escape pods. I want the tender moving in to work on Gilgamesh right now.” Looking around, he said, “I guess this means that I’m in command of the fleet.”
“What’s left of it,” Cunningham replied. He gestured at one of the panel’s at Caine’s station, and said, “Fifteen fighters left, and we’ve only got berths for eight.”
“Get me the Popovich,” Marshall said to the communications technician. After a moment, the severe features of Captain Franklin appeared on the screen.
“Are we pulling out of the system? I have our facilities ready to top up everyone’s tanks, and my medical bay is ready to accept casualties.”
“Good,” he replied, “I’ll see that you get your share. We’re not leaving this system, though, not until we are good and ready to go. I want Popovich to move in and pick up the fighters that can’t find a home in the battlecruisers.”
“That’s eleven, sir,” Caine reported. “Thermopylae just reported that her landing systems have been damaged.”
“That means taking us out ahead of the fleet,” Franklin said, shaking her head. “I won’t do it.”
“I gave you an order.”
“If Admiral Pierce is still alive…”
“I don’t give a damn if he is alive or not. I am in command of the auxiliary forces, and if you will not obey my commands, I will by damn put an officer on board that ship who will!” Turning to Caine, he said, “Senior Lieutenant Caine, you will…”
“Wait,” Franklin replied. “I’ll do it. Under protest. We can’t do anything with the fighters when they get on board, though. We can’t even get the pilots inside.”
“We can worry about that later. For now I just want them refueled, and liaise with whoever the hell the Fleet CAG is now about getting them rearmed as well. Think of them as your own personal fighter escort.”
“That hasn’t done much good to the fleet up till now. Popovich out.”
Caine looked up, and said, “You were bluffing, right?”
“Think I could run this fleet without a half-decent tactical officer?” he replied. “I’d have probably given it to Kelso instead.” The helmsman turned as though he was about to speak, then thought better of it and returned to his station.
“What exactly are we going to do?” Cunningham asked.
“First of all, I want you to get to work on a damage assessment of the enemy vessels. That engagement wasn’t entirely one-sided, and Thermopylae certainly got at least one good salvo in. While you do that, I’m going to see what’s going on over at the asteroid.” Turning to the communications technician, he said, “Any messages?”
“The only good signal I’m getting is from Ensign Cooper, sir, requesting orders and reinforcement. All the rest is scattered and garbled.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me he was calling, Spaceman?” Shaking his head, he said before she could reply, “Patch him through at once.”
“Cooper to any station, any station, come in please.”
“Cooper, this is Captain Marshall, acting fleet commander. What’s your situation?”
“Acting...are things that bad, sir?”
“You let me worry about our minor troubles out here, Ensign. What’s going on over there?”
“Second Platoon has secured the communications facility, sir, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry about jamming for a while. We have no connection with the airlock – and I take it that our second wave never launched from the carrier.”
Shaking her head, Roney said, “The shuttles didn’t even have time to get to the Trident before she went up, sir. Most of them were knocked out by the fighters.”
“That’s a negative, Ensign. Can you hold your current position?”
“We’re set up defensively for a while, sir, but ammunition’s going to be a problem in fairly short order unless we can get some resupply. I got a snatch of message from First Platoon, and they report that they are pinned in close to their airlocks, but I haven’t heard anything coherent from Third, or from the Fourth of the Ninth. Have you heard anything?”
The technician shook her head, and said, “Nothing coherent, sir. There’s someone transmitting, but I can’t determine who, nor can I pin their location down in the asteroid.”
Lieutenant Esposito walked onto the bridge, her face a mask, and said, “Can I speak to the Ensign, sir?”
“By all means.”
“This is Lieutenant Esposito,” she said. “Ensign, I know your record, and I want an honest answer to my question. Can you hold out in your current location for more than twenty-four hours?”
There was a brief pause, punctuated by the crack of a weapon discharging, and he replied, “I think we can, ma’am, but that won’t leave us with anything much left for an offensive.”
“Your judgment?”
“If there is no prospect of resupply, ma’am, then I recommend that we be withdrawn. Right now the enemy attack is fairly light, and I think our odds of breaking through to one of the airlocks are excellent.”
“Same as out here,” Caine said. “They’re giving us a chance to bow out gracefully.”
“Hold until relieved, Cooper,” Marshall said. “Get scouts out to keep an eye on what the enemy are doing, and report everything you can.” He paused, then said, “If after twelve hours the situation hasn’t changed, then I will pull your force out, Ensign. You read me?”
“I read you, sir. Give the order, and we’ll hold out until doomsday. Cooper out.”
Marshall smiled, then looked up at Esposito, and said, “Your opinion?”
“That depends on what happens out here, sir.”
“Can we secure that asteroid with the two platoons we have on the auxiliaries, backing up the forces that have already been deployed?”
She frowned, then said, “Fifty-fifty. The enemy haven’t attacked in strength yet, and I think it is a fair bet that they will do everything they can to repel any reinforcement.”
“Good money after bad, Danny,” Cunningham said. “My guess is that a ceasefire while we pulled out could be ours for the asking.”
“No,” Marshall replied. “We’ve paid for this rock, and by damn, we’re going to collect.”
“Without any information about what is going on with the other platoons, we can’t put together any sort of a coherent battle plan.”
“Spaceman,” Marshall said to the communications technician, “We might not be able to hear them, but can they hear us?”
“Certainly, sir. We’ve got a million times the transmission power those hand-held things do. Say the word and I’ll blast their ears off.”
“And First Platoon is holding close to the airlocks,” Marshall mused.
“Not by choice. From what we’re getting, the Lieutenant-Major and her unit are pinned. Nor do we know what casualties they have suffered,” Esposito said.
“How would you take that rock?” he asked.
With a smile, she replied, “Not the way Major Burke tried it. One big push, right down the middle. Secure a safe zone and push through a section at a time, alternating platoons on the offensive. I might try a couple of diversionary probes to throw off the enemy if I had the manpower to pull it off.”
“Isn’t that almost the situation we’re in right now?”
Nodding, she said, “We could commit our two platoons to an attack that could link up with Second, while the others launched their own assaults to distract the enemy. It’d cost.”
“It’s already cost,” he replied. “Let’s throw in a bonus – pull First out and hurl them in as w
ell.”
Shaking her head, she said, “That’s a hell of an operation to pull off, boss.”
“Can you do it?”
Looking at the asteroid again, she replied, “We’re the Triplanetary Espatiers. We can do anything.”
With a smile, he said, “Get it moving, assume the operation starts in eight hours.”
She turned to leave the bridge, paused, then said, “This won’t be the end of the fighting, Captain. We could be pinned down in there for weeks clearing it out, especially with the loss of all that manpower.”
“Some of them might have made it to the escape pods,” Caine suggested.
“And you’d throw people who just made it off an exploding starship into battle?” Cunningham replied.
“Bet you your next month’s pay that they’d volunteer.”
“Is it fair to ask?”
Walking across the bridge, Marshall looked at the tactical display, and said, “Take a look out there and tell me that. We don’t have a choice.”
Cunningham glanced at it, and then said, “Can we talk? Privately?”
Nodding, Marshall walked across to the cramped office behind the bridge, and waited for Cunningham to follow him, perching on the edge of the desk.
“I know what you are about to ask. We’ve already covered this.”
“They’re offering us a chance to cut and run, Danny. Looks like we’ve already lost four, five hundred people on this fool’s errand. If you push this attack, we could lose the entire task force, and everyone on the asteroid.”
“I’m aware of the odds.”
“Then why take the risk? If we’re at war, then we need these ships and these people.” He glanced out of the viewscreen in the wall and said, “Let me contact the Cabal commander. See what terms we can get. If they don’t want a battle, they’d almost certainly let us evacuate.”
Battlecruiser Alamo: Take and Hold Page 15