by Jay Allan
“Let’s go. Move.” Teller was urging the Marines forward. They had less than ten minutes, and he had to get everyone off the asteroid and blasted off before the reactor blew.
He’d already sent two groups out through the main airlock and back to the fleet. Admiral Mondragon had landed half a dozen retrieval boats, and there were two still on the surface, either of them big enough to handle Teller and the last of the Marines.
“You have 30 seconds to get into survival suits.” Teller stared at the prisoners, waving toward the racks along the wall. “Because in 31, we’re depressurizing the airlock and moving out, and I’ll be damned if I’m delaying that timetable for any of you.” Mercy had its limits, and they weren’t very far.
The terrified captives raced to the wall, climbing into the emergency gear as quickly as they could manage. Thirty seconds wasn’t enough time, but fear motivated them, and they managed it somehow.
“Depressurize.” Teller watched as the gauge on the wall showed the drop to vacuum conditions. Then he nodded. “Open the door. All personnel, onto the ships.”
He waved for all the Marines to go, the last two leading the dazed prisoners in front of them. Teller took one final look behind him and scurried across the dusty gray surface and into the waiting ship.
“Take off,” he yelled into the com, and he sat down on one of the benches and strapped himself in. “Let’s get the hell out of here before this thing blows.”
Cain winced again as he squeezed his shattered shoulder up through the small duct. The passageway had narrowed considerably, and Cain’s large frame barely fit through the opening.
He’d lost one of his guns, but he still had the other two. He could see a shaft of fuzzy light ahead, and he knew it was another ventilation opening. If he’d kept his bearings, it had to be the bridge, or a compartment near there. He scrambled forward, pushing himself as quickly as he could. It wouldn’t be much of a mystery to his enemies where he went, but if he could climb there quickly enough, he might get lucky and get out before they managed to pin him down again.
His stretched his hand as far as he could, his fingers gripping a small ridge around the inside of the vent. He pulled his face up and looked out into a small room. He let out a deep breath. There was no one there.
He knew he didn’t have much time, seconds probably. He pushed against the grate, trying to knock it off, but he knew his strength was starting to fail him, and it didn’t budge. He threw himself hard against it, with all the minimal momentum he could generate from his constrained position.
He kept it up, slamming into the grate, and each time his body shook with pain. Finally, it gave way, crashing loudly into the floor. Cain knew someone would have heard the sound, so he shoved himself out of the vent as quickly as he could, falling over and landing hard on the floor.
He felt the bone in his foot snap, a strange numbness for an instant, followed by more pain. His eyes were tearing and his mind was howling in his head, begging to surrender, to give up. The man had taken all he could, but the Marine was still holding, barely, clinging to the mission. And behind it all was the monster, the frigid creature of pure hate that now drove Erik Cain. This avatar of death didn’t care about pain; it didn’t care about survival. It only wanted one thing. And as long as it drew breath, it would keep going. Until Stark was dead.
Cain’s instincts were true, even through the agony and fatigue, and somehow he found he had the guns in both hands, firing full as his enemies charged into the room. The firefight only lasted an instant, and when it was done, there were three more of Stark’s men dead on the floor, and Erik Cain had taken another shot, this one in the thigh.
He’d slipped to his knees, but now he pushed himself back to his feet, somehow again shoving aside the pain and the weakness threatening to take him. He stared around the room, his eyes settling on a strange device along the wall. Cain was no engineer, but he’d been on dozens of spaceships, and he’d never seen anything like the glowing cylinder in front of him. Hmm, he wondered…what could that be?
The stealth device, he thought suddenly. It had been a guess at first, but then it all began to make sense. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind, and a wicked grin slipped onto his face.
He stepped back and steadied himself against the wall, staring at it for an instant before he raised his arm and opened fire.
Chapter 31
MCS John Carter
Asteroid Belt
Columbia, Eta Cassiopeiae II
“We’re detecting a large nuclear detonation, sir. Approximately 400,000 kilometers ahead, along our current course.”
Stark’s base, Campbell thought. Is it possible? He’d been on his way to attack the facility, but he had no idea who else might have beat him to it. Perhaps Stark had ordered the base destroyed after he’d realized it had been discovered.
“I want a full energy analysis on the explosion.” Stark would never give up without a fight, Campbell thought…so if that was his base, it means he got away somehow. “And all ships are to scan full in all directions. I want any contact reported…energy, particle, whatever. Nothing is too small.”
“Yes, sir.” Christensen relayed Campbell’s message through the fleet com. Then she activated the AI and instructed it to analyze the incoming data.
“Scanning data supports the sudden release of a previously-controlled fusion reaction of sufficient size to sustain itself for several seconds after loss of containment.” The AI’s tone was moderately androgynous, and Campbell had never been able to decide if it had been modeled after a man’s voice or a woman’s. “Concentration of heavy materials in spectral analysis also supports the hypothesis of the sudden failure of a fusion power reactor encased in an asteroid. Probability 94%.”
“Let’s go a little closer in and have a look. Just to make sure.” Campbell didn’t trust Stark, and he was going to be damned sure he knew what had happened before he headed back to Mars.
“Any other contacts?” He asked almost as an afterthought.
Christensen was staring into the scope. “Just picking them up now, sir. Approximately 20-25 ships.”
Campbell’s head whipped around. He’d asked almost as a reflex. He hadn’t expected to detect other ships out here. “Full report, Commander!”
“Definite spread pattern formation. The vessels seem to be searching for something. They are covering a wide dispersal pattern.” She paused, staring into her scope. “Admiral!” Her voice spiked high with surprise and her head popped up. “They are transmitting Alliance protocols.”
Campbell was surprised again. He hadn’t expected to run into any ships out here at all besides Captain Jennings’ Torch. But a whole Alliance fleet?
“Initiate contact, Commander.”
“Contacts confirmed, sir. It looks like approximately 40 vessels, Admiral.” The officer was reading the data as it came in. “Their original course suggests they were bound for the base, sir, but after the detonation, they altered course and they now appear to be searching for something.
“They’re searching for the same thing we are, Lieutenant. We’re on the same team, so let’s join forces. Get me a channel.” Mondragon sat in his command chair, staring at the plot of ships heading for him.
“Your line is open, sir.”
“Attention incoming vessels, this is Admiral Francisco Mondragon of the Alliance navy. Please identify yourselves.” There was a brief pause, about half a second each way for the signals to cross the space between the fleets.
“Admiral Mondragon, this is Admiral Duncan Campbell, Martian Confederation navy. Welcome back to the Sol system.”
“Thank you, Admiral. May I assume that you are attempting to find the same vessel I am seeking?” Mondragon leaned back in his chair, waiting for the response.
“We were searching for a ship we believe carries Gavin Stark, Admiral Mondragon. You may have more information than we do.” Campbell paused. “We’re simply going on the assumption that Stark escaped the destruction of his b
ase and is out here somewhere in one of his stealth vessels.”
Mondragon smiled. “Your assumption is excellent, Admiral Campbell. And yes, we are also searching for Stark’s vessel. One of our people was able to sneak onboard, but we have been unable to locate the ship since leaving the vicinity of the base.” He sighed softly. “I’m afraid we were caught rather close to the explosion, and by the time we were able to clear our scanners, the vessel had vanished from our scopes.
“Admiral Mondragon, the enemy vessel has reappeared on our scanning plots. It is 145,000 kilometers from our current position, moving at 3,850 kilometers per second.”
Mondragon’s head snapped around. “Lieutenant, advise General Teller. He has a strike team loaded up and ready for a boarding operation.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mondragon flipped his com back to Campbell’s channel. “Admiral, we believe we have located Stark’s vessel.”
“We have too, Admiral.” There was a grim tone to Campbell’s voice. “We have too.”
“All laser batteries, prepare to fire at my command.” Campbell turned his head sharply. “Engine room, I want 3g thrust in 15 seconds.”
Campbell turned and stared straight ahead. It was time. The butcher, the murderer who’d attacked Mars’ cities…it was time for him to pay the price.
“Engineering reports ready, sir. Commander Vandebaran reports reactor up to 55% output.”
Campbell nodded. “Very well.” He allowed himself a feral smile as his eyes focused on the scanner. Vandebaran had exceeded all timetables. John Carter’s reactor had been a pile of scrap, but somehow he’d managed to put it back together. The ship wasn’t really combat-ready, not by any reasonable standard, but she was more than capable of blasting Stark’s ship to atoms.
“I want targeting information updated every 15 seconds. Projected time to firing range, four minutes, ten seconds.” Campbell took a deep breath. In less than five minutes, Stark would be dead. He didn’t know how much comfort it would give to the displaced masses back home, but it would be a measure of justice at least.
“Admiral, I have an incoming message from Admiral Mondragon.”
“Put it through, Commander.”
“Admiral Campbell, my forces have a landing craft inbound toward the subject vessel. General Erik Cain is aboard, and Marines are en route to rescue him and terminate Gavin Stark. Please place your offensive operation on hold until further notice.”
Campbell stared at the plot on the screen. He was looking at the small red dot that represented Stark’s ship, but in his mind he was seeing the nuclear explosions on the surface of Mars, the magnificent domes cracking, shattering, falling to the ground in a sea of shards. Stark had to die. Nothing could be allowed to interfere with that.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Admiral.”
Mondragon was staring at his com unit, a stunned look on his face. “I repeat, Admiral Campbell. We have Alliance personnel both on that ship and inbound to it. Cease all offensive operations until further notice.”
“I’m sorry, Admiral Mondragon. But there is simply too great a danger for the enemy to escape. If that ship is able to re-engage its stealth systems, we could both lose Stark.”
Mondragon’s faced hardened. He understood Campbell’s motivations, but he wasn’t about to let the Martian fleet blow that ship apart, not while there was a chance Cain was still alive.
“Admiral Campbell, I am going to ask you one final time. Stand down immediately and cease all offensive operations against that vessel.” Mondragon’s voice was like ice. “I am not going to repeat myself.”
He stared down at the silent com for a few seconds then he turned toward the tactical station. “Lieutenant, bring the fleet to battlestations. All vessels are to target the Martian fleet.”
The officer stared back for an instant, his eyes glazed over with shock. “Yes, sir,” he finally stammered.
An instant later the battlestations lamps came on, bathing the bridge in a red glow. Mondragon took a deep breath. He’d expected a lot of potential dangers when Garret had sent him back to Sol ahead of the rest of the fleet, but a battle with the Martians wasn’t one of them.
“Give me an open channel, Lieutenant. I want the fleet and the Martians to hear this.”
“Yes sir.” A moment’s pause. “You are live, Admiral.”
“Attention all units, this is Admiral Mondragon. We are in pursuit of what we believe to be Gavin Stark’s spacecraft. General Erik Cain is also on the ship, and we have detached a Marine boarding party that is currently en route.” His voice was firm, even harsh. He wasn’t going to let the Martians destroy that ship with Cain on it. Not while there was still a chance he was alive.
“I have requested the Martian fleet stand down and allow us to complete this operation, but my requests have been refused.” He paused, staring at the com unit in his hand for a few seconds. “You are to stand by with all weapons ready. If the Martian fleet closes to within less than 100,000 kilometers of the subject craft, all units are to open fire. You are to attempt to disable rather than destroy the Martian vessels, however your priority is to prevent them from entering firing range of Stark’s ship.”
Mondragon made a chopping motion with his hand, and he leaned back. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His palms were soaked in sweat, and he was nauseous. The Martian fleet outweighed his, but they had massive battle damage too. He didn’t know if his people could win the fight he was on the verge of starting, but he knew one thing. He wouldn’t back down. Not while Cain and the rest of the Marines were out there.
“All Alliance vessels are fully-armed, and their targeting systems are activated, sir.”
Campbell sat motionless on his chair, staring out at the screen and the two rough lines of dots facing each other. Would Mondragon really do it? Would he open fire on an allied fleet to save one man?
His mind was racing. He wanted Stark dead so badly he could hardly keep the thought from his head, even for an instant. If Cain was on that ship, Campbell thought, he was probably dead already. But he knew Mondragon would never relent. Not until he knew for sure. Erik Cain was one of the Alliance’s greatest heroes, and his comrades would never leave him if there was the slightest chance he was alive.
“We’re at 110,000 kilometers, Admiral.” There was an uncomfortable pause. “If we’re going to engage the Alliance fleet, we need to plot targeting solutions immediately.”
Campbell didn’t answer. He just sat, staring straight ahead.
“Down to 105,000, sir.”
“Put me on a wide channel line.”
“Ready, Admiral.”
“Attention all fleet units, this is Admiral Campbell. The fleet will proceed on the current course, but no ship will fire except as I expressly authorize. All units are to assume positions surrounding the enemy vessel. You are not to interfere with the Marine operation underway, however, if the enemy ship engages its engines or activates its stealth system, all vessels are ordered to fire at once.” He paused. “You are not to attack any Alliance ships unless our fleet is fired upon. In that event, you are to fully engage and seek to neutralize the attacking vessels.”
There, Campbell thought, I blinked…but only with one eye. “Let’s see if Admiral Mondragon meets me halfway,” he muttered softly. He stared at the screen and waited. He knew he only had a middling hand, but he wasn’t ready to fold. Not yet. He didn’t think Mondragon’s cards were any better.
“Get that thing open. Now!” Teller was standing behind the docking collar as the technicians attached it to the hull of the stealthship. He was edgy, impatient. It had been just like Erik Cain to sneak onto the enemy ship by himself, and damned the consequences. Teller knew Cain was ready to die to kill Stark, but taking on entire ship by himself was too much, even for the Marines’ great stoic.
The two fleets had fallen into an uneasy standoff, Mondragon matching Campbell’s compromise. But things were still tense, and Teller knew time was of the essence.
He’d almost given up hope before, but when the stealth field went down he knew Cain was still alive and fighting. And his Marines were not about to abandon him.
“OK, you guys are all set.” The technicians stood aside, allowing the Marines to crawl through the small tube connecting the ships.
Teller was first, dressed in fatigues, and carrying an assault rifle in his hand. He crawled through and jumped out into the enemy cargo hold, springing into combat position and scanning the room quickly. There was a body in the middle of the floor – probably Cain’s work, he thought – but no live enemies.
He raced to the door, waving for the others to follow behind as he leapt out into the hall. There were bodies in the corridor as well, and one hanging down from a ladder leading to the upper deck.
He ran down to the end of the hall, looking up and down the shaftway. He couldn’t see anything, but an instant later he froze. He could hear something, the sounds of fighting…from the upper deck. He felt his heart race. Unless Stark’s people were fighting each other, it had to be Cain up there.
He reached out and grabbed one of the rungs of the ladder. “Let’s go, Marines. It’s time to finish this.”
Chapter 32
Stealth Ship Spectre
Asteroid Belt, Sol System
Cain stood laughing as he stared at the shattered wreck of Stark’s stealth device. There were shards all around, and the strange green light inside was extinguished. Cain had no idea how the thing had worked, but he was damned sure it was a pile of junk now.
He turned and moved toward the door. He was weak and tired, and his body was wracked with pain, but he had a job to do, and he’d be damned to hell if he was going to quit this close.
He opened the door and ran out onto the bridge, screaming a bloodthirsty war cry and firing with pistols in each hand. His training and instincts took over and directed his shots with deadly accuracy. There were half a dozen spacers on the bridge, and he took down four of them in an instant.