Battlecruiser Alamo: Final Orbit

by Richard Tongue

   The doors slid open, and she walked onto the hangar deck, the only space on the ship large enough for the mass meeting she wanted. Every senior officer from every ship in the fleet. In nine days, they'd be on their way to their final target, and nothing was going to stop them.

   She walked to the podium, placed behind the fighters, and looked up at the flags hanging on the wall, the allies who had joined forces to fight the Xandari. The resplendent black-and-green of the Triplanetary Confederation, next to the gold-and-white of the Koltoc Commonwealth, the green-and-blue of the Republic of Copernicus, and the savage red of the Free Coalition.

   Nelyubov and Cooper walked over to her side, the latter now wearing the double-pip insignia of a Lieutenant-Major, one of the brevet promotions littering the crew roster. He was commanding a company on active duty, and she believed he deserved to hold the rank that position merited. That he had a General as one of his platoon commanders was strange enough as it was.

   Carefully, she placed the datapad in position, locking it to the connectors that threw the display onto the wall, and raised a hand to call the meeting to order, the babel of conversation fading as the crowd came to attention. The Koltoc, pink-skinned and white-haired, had all clustered by themselves in a thick pocket around their commander, Colonel Kilquan, while the Neander under Colonel Skeuros had dispersed themselves around. The fighter squadron gathered around Salazar, Harper the only non-pilot among them, the hacker giving a dirty look to a raven-haired pilot with freshly-sewn flight leader stripes on her sleeve.

   “Good morning,” Orlova said. “First of all, Lieutenant Harper, how much data did we retrieve from the refinery before it was destroyed?”

   Turning to face her, Harper replied, “Enough to provide us with a good tactical overview of the current situation at the Xandari homeworld.” A murmur passed through the crowd, and she continued, “We should have a good briefing ready before we leave. Senior Lieutenant Nelyubov has everything we've gathered up till now.”

   “Mr. Quinn,” Orlova said, turning to the engineer in the corner. “What is the current condition of the Fleet from a combat viewpoint?”

   “We only sustained a single missile hit during the last battle, on Red Avenger,” he replied. “I've got a work crew over there right now, and she should be patched up by this time tomorrow.” He paused, then continued, “That doesn't take into account the effects of our prolonged cruise, Captain. We're well behind on all the maintenance schedules, and there are a lot of secondary systems on all the ships that require attention.”

   “Bottom line, Lieutenant. Are we fit for battle?”

   Quinn waged a war within himself before replying, “Yes, ma'am.”

   Looking around the room, Orlova continued, “When I brought the fleet to this system, I passed the word that this was a reconnaissance in force, an attempt to hold back the Xandari and force them into a defensive posture. I must tell you know that this was never our primary objective. Instead, our goal is a simple one. To end the war, right now. In a little more than a week.” The murmur built, and she let it rumble for a moment.

   “Mr. Nelyubov, can you outline what we know of the defensive posture of our target?”

   Nodding, he stepped forward, and tapped a button on the datapad to bring up an image of a twin planetary system, an Earth-like world with a smaller, desert world close by. At a second tap, a swarm of dots appeared in the orbital space surrounding the two bodies, constellations of communications and surveillance satellites, refineries and construction yards, squadrons of fighters on permanent patrol, and a missile defense network guarding the whole sub-system.

   “You want us to attack that?” Kilquan said, shaking his head. “There are faster ways to commit suicide, but I don't see one any more certain.”

   Turning to him, Skeuros rebutted, “A hit and run could do some real damage. If we could knock out their spaceports, we'd set them back by years.”

   “We'd lose our whole attack force trying,” another of the Koltoc said, “and I don't think we'd get any serious hits anyway. A few missile strikes, a couple of weeks' repair at the most, and they're back in business again.”

   Raising a hand, Orlova said, “Under normal circumstances, Colonel, I would agree with you completely, but we have a weapon up our sleeve that we weren't expecting. Before she died, Lieutenant Cantrell left us a legacy. The first element was the location of the Xandari homeworld and the tactical information she gathered, including the information we used in our attack on this system. The second was the weapon that could bring the war to an end. Major Cooper?”

   Nodding, Cooper said, “During the Interplanetary War, the Triplanetary Confederation did a lot of work on orbital denial weapons. The goal was the development of a bomb that could sweep orbital space clear of all installations, satellites and ships, and leave a debris field that would effectively isolate the planet for years, maybe decades.”

   “A doomsday weapon,” Senior Lieutenant John Powell, Alamo's Science Officer said. “Never completed, though.”

   “I'm afraid you are wrong about that, Professor,” Cooper said. “The weapon was completed, but by the time it was ready for deployment, the war was almost over. No test models were ever built, and the design was classified as Ultra Secret.” He paused, then added, “Lieutenant Cantrell brought the blueprints with her, along with authorization by the Combined Chiefs for its deployment.”

   “You cannot be seriously suggesting using a weapon like that,” Powell said, wide-eyed, stepping forward from the crowd. “I remember the studies of what would happen to Earth if it was used. More than half of the population wiped out, technological civilization brought to its knees. A weapon of mass murder on an apocalyptic scale. It was at best meant to be a bluff, not something that should ever actually be used.”

   Cooper looked at Orlova, who replied, “Our orders give me approval to use the weapon if I believe it necessary, Professor. I'm afraid that in my judgment, it represents the best hope we have of bringing this war to an end.”

   “There must be another way,” Powell pressed. “Something that would spare the lives of the innocent civilians on the planet. We're fighting a government, Captain, not a race.”

   “I'm not so sure about that,” Cooper said. “I've never met a non-violent Xandari.”

   “Because you're always facing them with a gun in your hand!”

   “They conquered our planet, enslaved our people,” Ryan said. “This seems a lot like justice as far as I'm concerned. And the only way that we can guarantee our safety. Your reinforcement task force is months away, maybe half a year, and in that time the Xandari can start to rebuild their fleet, get themselves back onto a full combat footing.”

   “I agree,” Kelot said. “We can't show them the mercy they would deny us, Professor. I've looked at the intelligence estimates of their industrial strength. They could have another four battlecruisers in five months. Enough to present a serious threat to the task force. In a year, they could double that number. For today, they are vulnerable, due to the sacrifice of far too many of our people. If we don't take this opportunity, we might never get a second chance.”

   “Does anyone here seriously believe that the Xandari wouldn't use the Kessler Bomb if they had it?” Nelyubov asked. “They wouldn't even think twice.”

   “Is that a good reason?” Salazar asked, frowning. Powell turned to him like a drowning man handed a lifeline, as the young officer continued, “If the only way we can win this war is to be more savage than our enemy, do we really deserve to win?”

   “Pavel's right,” Powell said, nodding. “Can't you see what you are doing? Condemning an entire civilization to die at our hands? Captain, I beg you, tell me that you are not seriously considering this course of action.”

   “A civilization,” Kilquan said, “that would happily conquer, enslave or exterminate every inhabited planet for fifty light-years. A race whose philosophy demands that the
weak perish.” The Koltoc commander paused, turned to Orlova, and said, “I have yet, however, to hear a viable battle plan.”

   “The weapon is too large to be deployed by anything other than a shuttle,” Nelyubov said. “We can modify a search-and-rescue pod for the mission, stripped of all excess weight and with modified booster rockets.” He tapped a control on the datapad, and a red dot appeared on the screen, low down, well within the defense perimeter. “The placement of the weapon is absolutely critical, down to the meter. It will be the work of a few minutes to gather the necessary sensor data.”

   “And how exactly do we get into position?” Kilquan asked, shaking his head. “If you've got an accurate projection, I make at least four missile satellites covering every potential approach vector, to say nothing of the fighter squadrons. And I'd be astonished if there weren't more capital ships stationed there also.”

   “True,” Orlova replied. “No strike operation could succeed unless the approach had been cleared first, and that will be the goal of the first wave of the attack.” She pointed at the moon, a dry, desolate wasteland, and continued, “Our information has the core of the Xandari defensive system based here, not on the homeworld.”

   Frowning, Quinn said, “That seems rather convenient. And I'd assume they could switch control to other installations in a second.”

   “Not necessarily,” Harper said. “I don't see any way to hack into the system, but I'm confident that it would be possible to delay switch over for a while. Long enough for a targeted fighter strike to take out enough missile satellites to permit our bomber to make its attack.” Salazar looked at her, shaking his head.

   “I'm with you, Pavel,” Skeuros said. “I presume those are our ships you're planning on throwing into harm's way. Lieutenant, if you get this wrong, we'd lose everything.”

   “One fast pass,” Orlova pressed. “A decoy attack to draw away their mobile defenses, and the real strike consisting of our fighter squadron and the Neander forces in support. Lieutenant Salazar will lead the assault.” Salazar's eyes widened as she continued, “Once the attack has been pressed home, Alamo will swing around the moon, and deploy the bomber.”

   “And how do we disable the satellites?”

   “With a ground assault,” Cooper said. “The surface of the moon is habitable, albeit barely. We'll deploy our full strength, the entire company.” He turned to the image of the system behind him, and continued, “There is an orbital defense network, but there are gaps. Enough that we could sneak a shuttle flight through, traveling at full speed.”

   “You might get down,” Quinn replied. “I don't know how you get back up again.”

   “For that, we'll be reliant on Alamo's second pass. We'll have twenty-one minutes to complete our mission, and then return to orbit at full speed. With Alamo and the Koltoc escorts to provide covering fire, Lieutenant Bradley is confident that the shuttle flight can get clear in time. Risky, certainly, but...”

   His arms folded, Kilquan said, “And just how many troops do you believe are waiting for you on the surface, Major? If that was my installation, I'd have thousands of soldiers guarding the place. Dug-in defenses to fight off any potential assault. This is more than just a risk, Major. It's insanity.”

   “I don't think so,” Cooper replied. “We'll have the element of surprise on our side, and the ability to take the initiative. We choose where we attack, and our shuttles will deploy kinetic warheads on the descent to wreak havoc. When we go down, it will be against a disorganized, disrupted formation, not a prepared unit.” Turning to Orlova, he continued, “All of my men have volunteered for the attack.”

   “Did you think any of them would refuse to go, Gabe?” Salazar asked. “They'd sign up even if they knew they weren't coming back.” Turning to Orlova, he said, “May I have permission to speak freely, Captain?”

   “Of course, Lieutenant.”

   Looking at the tactical outline, he said, “This plan is far too complicated, Captain. Reliant on too many things to go perfectly. If anything goes wrong, then the mission fails, and failure in this case means that we lose the entire fleet. And more besides. If we don't bring the reinforcements forward, then the Xandari will have months, maybe as long as a year, to rearm. We could lose everything we've gained, all the way back to Testament Station.”

   “For all we know,” Nelyubov rebutted, “Commodore Marshall could already be on his way here. He isn't the type to sit back and wait.”

   “No, sir, but the Combined Chiefs are, and it is not entirely his decision.” Shaking his head, Salazar continued, “We can't count on that support getting here when we need it. More than that.” Looking around the cavernous hangar, he continued, “This crew is tired, Captain. Half of them have been rotting in a prison camp for the last four months, and the rest have been in a constant state of combat readiness. They've already gone further than we have any right to ask them to go. And while none of them will admit it, they want to go home.”

   “In a fortnight, we'll be on our way,” Orlova said.

   “Unless someone makes a mistake, and we all get killed.” Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Then there are the moral implications of this plan.”

   “What alternative is there?” Ryan said.

   “If we didn't deploy the K-Bomb, we'd have to sweep orbit the old-fashioned way. That would take the entire Triplanetary Fleet, and we could never deploy it this far out. And then they wouldn't surrender. We'd have to bombard them from orbit.” Nelyubov looked at the young pilot, and said, “Do you want to press a button and destroy a city, Pavel?”

   “As it stands,” Powell said, “You're asking someone to press a button and destroy a world.”

   “Not necessarily,” Nelyubov replied. “Remember that the Xandari haven't been spacefaring for long. Their technology is mostly stolen, their economy totally militarized. I doubt they have many civilian assets in orbit.”

   “We don't know,” Powell pressed. “Which is the largest problem with this entire operation.”

   Quinn looked around, and added, “I'd have to be on Pavel's side, as well. Technically, this ship is fit for battle, but that's a long way from launching a strike on this scale. The Xandari controlled this ship for months, and I'm not completely confident that we don't have any unpleasant surprises waiting for us.”

   Salazar turned to Quinn, and said, “There are no sides here, sir. This meeting was called to ask for the opinions of senior officers, and I've given mine.” Looking back at Orlova, he continued, “If you give the order, Captain, I'll do my damnedest to carry it out.”

   Shaking his head, Powell said, “I'm afraid I don't feel the same way. Captain, if you proceed with this course of action, I will have no choice but to issue a formal written protest.”

   Quinn nodded, and added, “On the grounds of the condition of the ship, Captain, I'm forced to agree.”

   Orlova looked at Salazar, and asked, “Lieutenant?”

   “If you are asking me whether I would do this, Captain, then I must in all honesty say that I wouldn't. I think we're riding our luck further than we should, and I think that the mission is too risky.” With Powell and Quinn looking at him, he continued, “Nevertheless, I respect the chain of command, and I respect your decision. I will make no formal protest, and will lead the attack as directed.”

   “Captain, please,” Powell said.

   “Colonel Skeuros,” Orlova asked. “Your opinion?”

   “Bring down those bastards once and for all?” the Neander said. “Count me in.”

   “General Kelot?”

   “The Free Peoples have suffered more than most at the hands of the Xandari, Captain, and we know better than anyone else what we're fighting for. If we lose this war, then billions of people will be murdered and enslaved. Those people are counting on us to do the right thing, and I don't think we can let them down. I'll commit.”

   “Colonel Kilquan?”

>    Shaking his head, he said, “Even some of your own officers oppose you in this, Captain.”

   “We can bring the war to an end in a fortnight, Colonel,” Harper said. “After this, it will just be a question of mopping up the few remaining garrisons. We've pushed them back to their home system. Most of their fleet strength must be there.”

   “Reluctantly, I suppose I am forced to agree,” Kilquan replied. “I don't like this, Captain, I don't like this at all. I don't care about the morality of it, I'm just concerned about the strategic implications should we fail. Nevertheless, I presume you'll be going whether I agree or not, so I am duty bound to commit my forces to the battle.”

   Orlova looked around the room, then said, “Then we will depart on schedule for the Xandari homeworld in four days, nine hours and eleven minutes. All commanding officers will report for a tactical conference tomorrow, and Major Cooper will be briefing the Espatier force this afternoon.” Turning to Quinn and Powell, the latter now looking far older than his years, she continued, “Any formal protests are to be submitted to me before we leave, and I will note them in my log.”

   A defiant smile on her face, she added, “We didn't start this war, but we're damned well going to finish it. Dismissed.”

  Chapter 4

   “Here we go!” Salazar yelled, running the modified bomber to full thrust as he dived for the enemy defense perimeter. “Ryan, you take left. Murphy, take right. Break off as soon as we're through the missile screen and get back to Alamo. No heroics.”

   He settled down in the couch, reaching down to the throttle as he attempted to urge more speed from his ship, following the pre-selected trajectory. Ahead, the oddly inviting green and blue world loomed in the monitor, growing closer by the second. Glancing across at his sensor display, he allowed a brief smile to flash across his face. Everything was going according to plan, the formation heading right for the gap they'd torn in the satellite defenses in the first attack.