by Jay Allan
“No.” Cain’s voice was like iron. “We’re not going back. Gavin Stark is in here somewhere, and we’re going to find him.” His voice dripped venom. “And we’re going to kill him.” He turned and looked past Teller. “Elliot, give me one of those charges.”
Breyer reached into the container and pulled out another spherical explosive. “This is pretty close quarters for one of these, Erik.” He had a doubtful expression on his face, but he handed the globe to Cain.
Cain poked around the corner, spraying the corridor on full auto. Then he reached back and took the explosive from Breyer. He punched five seconds on the timer and threw the sphere down the hallway, ducking back around and waving for his men to hit the ground.
The explosion was almost deafening, and a blast of fire came back down the corridor. An unarmored man would have been killed, or at least injured, but Cain’s armored Marines were fine. He waited a few seconds, and he yelled, “Now, follow me.”
Cain leapt to his feet and spun around the corner, racing down the blasted corridor, firing on full auto as he did. The walls were blackened and scorched and sections of the ceiling had collapsed. He leapt over the debris and whipped around the far corner, firing wildly as he turned on the enemy position.
He stopped shooting almost immediately. The corridor was shattered, and there were a dozen enemies down. Most of them were dead, but two of them were moving, trying to crawl away down the hall. Cain raised his rifle and riddled them both without hesitation.
“Erik…” Teller’s voice expressed his disapproval.
“We don’t have time for prisoners, James. We’re here to kill Stark. Nothing else matters.” Cain’s voice was without emotion, nothing there but cold-blooded focus.
He turned and moved down the smoky corridor. “Let’s go,” he snapped. “It’s time to find Stark.”
“This is an urgent communique from Captain Jennings aboard Sand Devil to Roderick Vance.” Jennings sat in his chair, speaking into the small microphone on his workstation. “I repeat, this is a top priority message for Roderick Vance.”
Sand Devil had just cleared the jamming radius from Stark’s base, and Jennings had directed all available power to the long range com unit. It would take about 12 minutes for the signal to reach Mars and another 12 for a response to travel all the way back. But Jennings had no intention of staying in place that long. He was going to send the message and get back to the asteroid base as quickly as possible.
“We have followed Gavin Stark to a previously unknown base in the asteroid belt. The Marines landed on the surface and are attempting to find Stark now, but they are heavily outnumbered. We broke away to send this message and will be returning as soon as transmission is complete. I am sending coordinates with this message, and I request any assistance that is available.”
He took a deep breath. He doubted Vance had anything to spare, but the chance to destroy Stark was too important to pass by. He wondered if his communique would draw resources away from rescue operations. Would civilians die because of his message?
“Jennings, commanding Sand Devil, out.” He turned toward the Verason. “Let’s set a course back…”
“New contact, Captain. Bearing 135,180,090.” The officer’s face was pressed down to his scope. “Make that multiple contacts. Tracking 30+ ships now, sir.”
Jennings felt his morale sink. Sand Devil was normally one of the fastest ships in space, but with her battle damage, she wasn’t going to outrun anything. He took a deep breath. He knew his ship couldn’t battle its way past a lifeboat right now, but he’d be damned if they were going down without a fight.
“Battlestations, Lieutenant.”
Chapter 21
Ruins of the Ares Metroplex
Martian Confederation
Vance stared out over the battered buildings of the Ares Metroplex. The city wasn’t destroyed, not completely. Many buildings were hardly damaged, and others were battered but clearly repairable. But the enormous dome, built of pure hyper-polycarbonate at an almost incalculable cost, was a total loss. The material was almost indestructible under normal use, but multiple nuclear explosions in close proximity had been too much, and it had collapsed in on itself.
It had fallen completely on one side, with massive shards raining down on the buildings below. Many of the structures in those areas had been flattened by the huge chunks of clear polymer, and most of the others were damaged. The center of the dome had fallen as well, but most of one side still stood, despite the loss of structural integrity, a testament to the strength of the material and the tremendous engineering that had gone into its construction. Mars’ low gravity helped as well. Vance doubted any of the dome could have remained standing on Earth.
Vance had always been unemotional, able to focus on the facts of a situation, and push aside anything not pertinent to the matter at hand. He had a reputation for being cold and unfeeling and, while he understood why people had that opinion, it wasn’t the truth. Vance was a true patriot, and he loved the Martian Confederation. His calm rationality, coldness to some, had always been used in service of his nation and his people. His rational mind approached things differently than most people, and his ability to remain calm and clear-minded was his most defining characteristic. Those who viewed him as cold were likely to substitute pointless emotion for rational action. They would tell themselves they cared more than a cold fish like Vance, but the Martian spymaster would do more good, and save more of his people, by remaining calm and rational.
Even Vance’s legendary self-control was being put to the test now, as he looked out on the gray, broken remains of his city. He was silent now, grateful to be locked up in armor, his reactions hidden from everyone else. A century of work, over a hundred years of constant effort and toil, and it lay before him in ruins. The city was salvageable…possibly. But the dome was a total loss. The remnants still standing defiantly were a hindrance, not an aid. They would have to be taken down, slowly and carefully, and replaced. But replaced with what? Mars was prostrate now. Her industry was half destroyed and the rest lay abandoned under the shattered domes. He had no idea how they would manage the rebuilding. It would be many years before Martians returned to live on the surface and looked up to see the sun and the stars above them once again.
Gavin Stark had his revenge. Vance had destroyed Stark’s Dakota base, and now Mars had paid the price. No, he thought to himself, that wasn’t completely true. Part of Vance wanted to blame himself for provoking the attack by moving against the Shadow Legions facility on Earth, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Stark would have attacked Mars no matter what.
His Shadow Legions would eventually win their war against the Marines, if only by overwhelming them with sheer numbers. But there was no way Stark could defeat Augustus Garret, not if the great admiral could supply and maintain his fleet. Sooner or later he would hunt Stark down, destroy the rest of his ships and strand all his people wherever they were. Stark couldn’t win his war and establish his dominion across human space, not while Augustus Garret was still out there with his fleet.
No, he thought, cursing his own foolishness, Stark had to destroy any industry that could support Garret’s ships. He realized now that Mars had always been part of Stark’s agenda, and he cursed himself for his stupidity in not seeing it sooner. He had fallen for Stark’s trap, sending his ships out to Saturn to intercept the enemy fleet and opening the approach to Mars for Stark’s stealth vessels. It had been one big deception, and Stark had gotten the better of him. And his people had paid.
At least most of them were still alive. Looking at the wreckage around him, he knew that was more than he could have hoped for, though he didn’t know how he and the rest of the council were going to keep them all alive. The covered farms still stood, and they would continue to produce food, but they had never provided more than half the planet’s needs, even when the supporting services were functioning 100%. He knew they’d produce less now, possibly not even a third of what it would take
to feed the masses of refuges jammed into the overcrowded underground cities.
If Earth slipped into the abyss and the Superpowers finally destroyed each other, he didn’t know how the Martian government was going to feed everyone. Brief images of food riots and lotteries to determine who would live flashed through his mind, but he quickly pushed them back. He knew it was a likely future, but it wasn’t one he was ready to face now.
At least the orbital fortresses were still manned and operational. Stark’s ships had approached through stealth, and Mars’ defenses were still strong, even without the fleet. If an enemy tried to launch an attack, they’d have a hell of a fight on their hands.
“Mr. Vance, we have received two high priority communiqués addressed to you.” The com unit in the armor was loud, reverberating in his helmet, and he recoiled at first.
“From whom?”
“One is from Admiral Campbell, sir.”
Vance let out a long sigh. Campbell was alive. That meant some of the fleet, at least, had survived. “What does he report?”
“Admiral Campbell advises that the fleet has suffered crippling losses, with half his vessels destroyed and most of the rest seriously damaged.” The communications officer paused. “He reports the enemy fleet suffered catastrophic damage as well, including the destruction of its flagship and the presumed death of Admiral Liang. The surviving ships fled from the battle area, bound for the Centauri warp gate. Admiral Campbell is on his way back to Mars with all his ships capable of making the trip. The most heavily damaged fleet units remained behind and are continuing damage control efforts.”
Vance took a deep breath. A victory, although a Pyrrhic one. Still, it was good news. Campbell had done a fine job, though he’d been facing a diversionary force and not the real threat. But that had been Vance’s mistake, an intel error, and it took nothing away from the honor due to Campbell and his crews.
At least some portion of the fleet survived, Vance thought. As badly damaged as he suspected most of the fleet units were, he was grateful now for any resources that remained available.
“Who sent the second communique?” Vance looked up to the sky as he spoke, still trying to imagine the shattered wreckage of the Confederation’s once powerful navy.
“Captain Jennings, sir. He reports his ship was able to track an enemy contact to a base in the asteroid belt. He believes Gavin Stark is on that base.”
Vance felt the adrenalin flow through his body like a wave. If Jennings had managed to find Stark…
“He engaged an enemy vessel and destroyed it, though his ship was badly damaged in the fight. He landed General Cain and his Marines on the asteroid, but he reports they are heavily outnumbered, and he fears they will be overwhelmed and destroyed.”
“Did he provide coordinates for this base?”
“Yes, sir.”
Vance turned abruptly and waved to his Marine escort, switching the com to the Marine channel. “Let’s move, Sergeant, we’re going back down to HQ.” He started walking toward the bank of lifts. He had to get back to his office. He had to reach Admiral Campbell. Immediately.
“I think we’ve got the reactor stabilized, sir.” Joseph Vandebaran was John Carter’s chief engineer. Campbell could hear the exhaustion in his raw voice. They’d had to cut their thrust twice on the trip back to Mars, so Vandebaran could take the reactor offline and repair cracks in the containment system.
Campbell was impressed with the lieutenant commander’s skill and tenacity. By all rights, John Carter should be in a scrap heap, or more likely blown to its component atoms. Vandebaran’s efforts had kept the battered Martian flagship functioning and, despite the two short interruptions, on a steady course back to Mars.
Campbell sat in his command chair, trying to get a handle on things. He’d gone from the mortal danger of an apocalyptic battle to the restrained joy of a marginal victory – then to the shattering news that his home had been destroyed. Subsequent communiqués had updated the initial reports, and Campbell and his people were relieved at the news that casualties had been fairly light, and most of the civilians had successfully withdrawn to the underground shelters. But the thought of Mars’ great cities lying cold and deserted under shattered domes was too depressing to think about, at least while he was still responsible for the remnants of the fleet.
“Incoming communication, Admiral.” Christensen had been at her station for 36 hours, and her voice was a raspy whisper. “It’s from Mr. Vance, sir.”
Campbell’s head spun around toward the com station. “Patch it through to me here, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir.” She turned back toward her station. “Coming through now.”
“Congratulations, Admiral Campbell. We only have patchy information, but it is clear that you performed with your typical skill and bravery and that your people distinguished themselves. Mars thanks you and your brave naval crews.”
Campbell could hear the fatigue in Vance’s tone too. He couldn’t imagine what had been happening on Mars, the stress Vance was under trying to save the civilians in the wake of Stark’s devastating attack. As hard a road as he had traveled the past few days, Campbell was grateful he wasn’t in Vance’s shoes.
He appreciated Vance’s words of congratulations and support, but it was difficult to feel any joy after a battle so costly, and his victory, if that’s what they were going to call it, was marred by its ultimate futility. They had destroyed enemy ships, possibly even killed Liang, but it had done nothing to protect Mars from attack.
“I cannot begin to understand the pain and fatigue your people are feeling right now or the enormous damage your vessels have suffered.” Vance paused briefly. “But I must ask you to undertake another mission, one of the utmost importance. I am transmitting you the coordinates of a secret base located in the asteroid belt. We have excellent intelligence that Gavin Stark himself is present there. You are ordered to destroy the facility and to kill Stark.” Vance’s voice paused, and when he continued, his voice was thick with emotion. “This is the most important order I have ever issued, Duncan, and I am counting on you and your people to see it done, whatever the cost. The future of Mars, of all mankind may depend on destroying Stark now.”
Campbell sat in his chair listening quietly as the message played. He felt the rage inside him beginning to boil, the anger and hatred for Stark taking control. The dead in his fleet, on Mars, even the thousands he himself had killed with his attack on the Dakota base – it was all because of Stark. He wondered if any single man in history had ever caused such massive death and devastation. His fleet was in no condition to undertake another mission, but that didn’t matter, not at all. Gavin Stark had to die.
“I know your people are exhausted, and you have suffered terrible losses, but you must undertake this final effort. All of us on Mars are with you in spirit, and you carry the future of your nation with you into this last battle. Good luck to all of you, Duncan. Vance out.”
Campbell stared straight ahead, all the doubts and pain gone, at least temporarily. “Lieutenant Christensen, advise Commander Vandebaran that I will need as much power as he can give me.” He paused, his hands gripping the armrest of his chair. “And issue an order to all units of the fleet. We are changing course. We have one last battle to fight.”
Chapter 22
Paris
French Zone
Europa Federalis
Werner walked down the Champs-Elysees, or what was left of it at least. His troops had not been gentle with Paris or its citizens, despite his orders to refrain from vandalism and looting. The war had been hard, and everyone still in the ranks had lost friends and comrades.
Europa Federalis had started the war, at least if you believed the CEL claims of innocence in the destruction of Marseilles, and as far as the CEL soldiers were concerned, it was time for them to pay the price. Much of the population had already fled by the time Werner’s lead elements pushed into the city, and from the looks of things, the mob and the remnants of t
he gendarmerie had engaged in quite a battle of their own.
The Europan army itself was nowhere to be seen, and the few units still holding the line after the nuclear assault were easily pushed aside. Werner was cautious, still not sure if the enemy was truly prostrate or if they were pulling back to reorder themselves for a counter-attack. He knew that’s what he would have done, using the capital to draw in his enemy and then hitting them with a massive assault around the flank.
He wanted to dig in, to fortify the city and consolidate his own meager supplies. But that wasn’t an option. The RIC had suffered heavily in the nuclear exchanges on the eastern front, but they hadn’t been as fully mobilized as the CEL. Before long they would be marching fresh formations through the shattered and radioactive terrain, and the CEL had nothing to meet them. General Heinsdorf had barely been able to put together two makeshift divisions from his scattered survivors. When fresh Russian-Indian forces arrived, they’d push right through to Neu-Brandenburg, and into the industrial heartland of the CEL. Unless Werner could finish off the Europans and rush his forces to the east.
“Potsdorf, I don’t want any of these formations stopping.” He knew the men would want to stay in Paris, at least until they’d gotten some rest and worked their way through the most promising loot. The government elites all had plush apartments in the city and expansive estates along the outskirts. But Werner intended to keep his sword in the enemy’s back. The coast wasn’t far, and pretty soon the enemy would run out of room to retreat. He hoped the high command would offer reasonable terms to entice the Europans to capitulate, but he suspected they would demand a humiliating surrender, even as they faced defeat in the east. And that meant he was going to have to crush every enemy formation remaining in the field, and do it quickly, before the RIC launched another offensive.