"Gone." Maxwell's voice was flat and unemotional.
"Some of them," Phelps began, but Maxwell cut him off.
"No, they're all gone, or they will be shortly."
"How can you be so sure, Chief?" Brown asked.
"With a detonation that size, if the blast didn't kill them outright, the radiation burst will."
They all fell silent at this as Chief Maxwell moved to confer with the lieutenant.
While the three of them had been discussing the fate of Admiral Tanner and Home Fleet, Lieutenant Ford had been busy passing their information up the chain of command. His voice was clear, but with a slight waver in it.
Ford was still speaking into his mike when alarms began to echo throughout the station.
The high-pitched wail of Brian's boards demanding his attention was nearly lost in the din of the station's call to battle stations. Turning his attention back to his readouts, Brian saw something that caused his blood to run cold.
"Chief!" Brian screamed into his mike this time, the tremor of fear in his voice readily apparent. "New contact, multiple fold events!"
The lieutenant and the chief seemed to teleport to his side, both of them staring intently at his readouts.
"Multiple fold events this soon after what just happened can mean only one thing, sir," Chief Maxwell said to Lieutenant Ford.
"I know, Chief." Ford's voice was as quiet as Maxwell's had been. Touching his earpiece, Ford was once again connected to Commander Easly in CIC. "Commander, the Xan-Sskarns have entered the system."
* * *
Captain Alexandra McLaughlin sat at her desk in the small office located just off the command deck reviewing readiness reports. Sipping coffee, she took her time scrolling though the data displayed on her screen. As she made her way through the reports, Alex came to the conclusion that she had taken command of a superb crew.
Leaning back from the screen and rubbing her eyes, she took a moment to stretch the kinks out of her shoulders. Then, lighting a cigarette, she turned back to her reading when the admittance chime to her office sounded.
"Come."
As the hatch began to cycle open with a soft hush, Commander Tony Ruggs stepped into the office.
"Captain, Folkvang station has just gone to general quarters," Tony reported in clipped tones, the concern evident on his face.
Alex came quickly to her feet, stabbing out her cigarette as she moved from behind the desk.
"Sound general quarters, Commander," Alex heard herself say as she strode toward the command deck, watching her XO lift his hand to his earbud.
"General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations." Tony's calm voice, emanating from speakers throughout the ship, was quickly replaced by the ululating wail of the alarms announcing to the crew that the war had just caught up with them.
Alex settled into her command chair, picking up her earpiece and inserting it before she began to secure her harness. As the last buckle clicked into place, she reached up and touched the earbud, cutting her into the battle net.
"Commander Ruggs, I have the con." Her voice was calm and assured as she took command.
"You have the con. Aye, ma'am." Tony's voice was just as calm as hers had been.
Alex took the time to arrange her display panels before she cut back into the net.
"Status?"
"Ma'am, all stations report manned and ready," Tony answered.
"Very well, Commander. I believe we can do without the alarms now." She smiled at him, waiting to see his nod of understanding before turning her attention to her communications officer.
"Commander Albers, what are you getting from the station?"
"Ma'am, from what I'm hearing over their general net, Home Fleet has been destroyed and the Sallys have entered the system." Lea's voice was hushed, her speech slow and deliberate, the shock of what she had heard and reported affecting her normally exuberant personality.
Thankfully, Lea had had the presence of mind to cut over to the command staff net. Alex didn't know what kind of effect an announcement like that would have on her crew, but she knew that it would not be good. The gasps and hisses from her staff attested to that. If they were shocked, she knew that the crew would be even more so.
"Lieutenant Green, can you confirm this?" Alex was the first to shake herself out of her disbelief. There was a job to be done, and it was time to get to it.
"I can't go active while we're still in dock, ma'am, but I can get the same telemetry that the station is receiving via the docking umbilicals," Green responded after only a brief moment of hesitation.
"Do it," Alex snapped, then turned her attention back to Lea. "Commander Albers, sound the recall. Get all of our people back on board, now. Then I want you to open a channel to High Command. Specifically, I want to talk to the CNO."
"Yes, ma'am. I'm on it." Albers seemed to be bouncing back from the shock, her voice coming across the net in a rush.
"CAG," Alex called to the Commander Kaufman, still on the command staff net.
"Kaufman." His voice sounded winded.
He must have had to run to the tower, and with his leg still healing, I'm sure that wasn't a pleasant journey, Alex thought, smiling at how quickly her friend had responded despite his injuries.
"Get the Valkyries lined up, but don't move them into the tubes yet, and don't launch the alert fighters. We'll worry about getting them out and dancing once we're clear of the station."
"Roger that, ma'am."
"Commander Fain, weapons status?" Alex changed nets from the CAG to her tactical officer without a moment's hesitation.
"I've got fish in the tubes. All energy mounts are charged," Fain reported. Then, glancing at Lieutenant Amy Gardner's board, he reported the status of the junior tactical officer as well. "PDLs and PDGs are all in the green and standing by for tasking. ECM programs are loaded and ready for implementation." He gave a nod of approval to his subordinate before turning his eyes to his captain.
"Excellent, Guns." Alex complimented the commander without looking up from her boards. She began to inquire as to the status of engineering when Lieutenant Commander Albers' voice sounded in her earpiece.
"Captain, the recall is sounded, but I am unable to contact dirtside. Something is wrong with the transmitters. I can't contact anyone, but I can still receive."
"What?!" Alex burst out. Not being able to communicate was a severe handicap.
"I don't know what the problem is, ma'am. I had active channels earlier this morning, but now I've got nothing but dead air. Yet all my diagnostics are coming back in the green."
"Can you patch in going through Folkvang?"
"Sorry, ma'am." Lea's voice was small and depressed. "We've got access to their local nets via the umbilicals, but I can't tap into their transmitters."
"Commander Ruggs!" Alex barked, "Get hold of Heron and get a team to track down the problem. I want those transmitters up, and I want them up now."
Alex barely registered his response as Lieutenant Green's strangled voice came across the net.
"Captain?"
"What've you got, Lieutenant?"
"I've just received the telemetry from Folkvang's sensors, ma'am."
Alex turned to face her sensor officer, the look on his face making her break out in a cold sweat.
"Can you confirm the status of Home Fleet?" Alex found herself whispering back, afraid to hear the answer.
"If these readings are accurate, and I don't doubt that they are, then Folkvang's report is correct. Home Fleet is gone."
"How?" The question came out before she could stop it.
"Thermonuclear explosion, most likely from multiple warheads. Readings indicate that it was bigger than anything previously recorded, by several orders of magnitude."
"Jesus!" Tony's voice broke the stunned silence on the staff net, igniting a flurry of questions. Alex stepped on it, hard.
"Enough!" When silence was restored, she continued. "It's happened, and the
re is nothing we can do to change it, but that doesn't mean there is nothing we can do about it. Clear?"
The assents coming back across the net were confident, the edge of panic a moment before gone before it could take root.
"Now, Commander Ruggs, begin preparations for immediate departure."
"Aye, ma'am. Preparing for immediate departure," Tony called back. He turned his attention to his own boards and began to issue orders quietly into his mike.
Alex paused and cast her gaze around the command deck, gauging the response of the personnel around her. While there was fear and uncertainty written upon their faces, their eyes were intent, and they were clearly under control.
Unbidden, her last meeting with Admiral Greco played across her mind. His final orders echoed in her ears.
Your orders are to ensure the survival of the human race, by whatever means necessary.
The current situation brought home the full ramifications of that order. She knew what she had to do.
Her ghosts wailed in protest.
Please, God, don't let me fail them.
She sat back into her command chair, radiating an air of calm, not letting her worries and fears show on her face.
"Commander Tucholski, begin plotting us a course out of the system, away from the incoming Sallys." She heard the gasps from some of her crew, but ignored them and went on. "Go for zero-zero at the jump limit."
"Aye, aye, Captain," Tucholski called back to her. If her orders bothered him at all, he didn't let it show as he turned to his boards and began to lay in their course.
"Captain, I've got Folkvang's CO on the net, demanding to speak to you," Commander Albers said. "Sorry, ma'am—his words, not mine." She looked sheepishly at Alex.
"Very well, patch him through," Alex said, making a mental bet with herself as to the reason behind Rachere's call.
"Admiral Rachere for you, Captain."
"Thank you, Commander." Alex reached down to one of her panels and typed in a quick command to begin recording their conversation. "Admiral Rachere, what can I do for you?"
"Captain McLaughlin, you will prepare for my arrival. I am assuming command of the Valhalla." Rachere's voice was confident; he obviously assumed he would be obeyed without question.
Alex smiled grimly; she had won her bet.
What the hell can that man be thinking? Does he seriously think that I'm just going to turn my ship over to him because he said so? I was wrong about him. He's not stupid—he's insane.
"Oh, I don't think so, Admiral," Alex said sweetly into her mike.
"Captain, that was not a request." An edge was apparent in his voice.
"I'm sure it wasn't, Admiral, but that does not change the fact that you will get command of this ship when hell freezes over."
"Captain, with the death of Admiral Tanner, I am the senior officer in-system, and as such, it is my duty to take command."
Alex could picture the admiral's face slowly turning crimson.
"With all due respect, Admiral, you are not the senior officer in the system. Admiral Greco is, and I have my orders directly from him."
"McLaughlin, do I need to remind you about what has just happened, what is happening right now, even as we speak?" Rachere asked, exasperated.
"Yes, please do. And could you go slow?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice. Before Rachere could begin again, Alex continued on.
"Admiral, you said it was your duty to take command of the Valhalla, but what of your duty to Folkvang station?"
"This station is lost, Captain, and you know it."
"That may be, sir, but that does not change the fact that you have a duty to perform."
"Don't talk to me about duty, Captain. I've seen what your concept of duty is, and it disgusts me."
She was about to give Rachere the last few meters of rope with which to hang himself.
"I see." Alex's voice was light and cheerful, knowing that it would irritate the admiral even more. "Well, sir, the last time we met, you had accused me of desertion in the face of the enemy. Your feelings in that regard were plainly evident as you tried to get not only myself but my entire crew drawn up on charges. We both know that the charges you tried to bring had no basis in fact. Yet here you are, clearly abandoning your command at the first sign of trouble."
Alex could hear spluttering noises coming over the net, the admiral at a loss for words.
Lieutenant Green's voice snapped Alex's attention back to the current situation.
"New contact, multiple incoming!"
"Report!"
"Station sensors are reporting a Sally carrier group fifteen light-minutes out, accelerating hard toward the station."
With the new arrivals, the time for games was past.
"Commander Albers," Alex said, opening a channel to her communications officer.
"Yes, ma'am?" With a fresh burst of adrenaline in her system due to Green's last announcement, Lea's response came so quickly as to be nearly incomprehensible.
"Take this recording." Alex touched her panel again, stopping the recording. A few more strokes of her finger had the file on its way to Lea's console. "I want you to send it to Folkvang's executive officer, with my compliments. Highest possible priority."
The venom in her voice was not missed by Albers. Nor was it missed by Admiral Rachere, whom Alex had deliberately left on the line. Alex cut Albers out of the net, leaving her alone with Rachere's protests.
She was ignoring them.
"XO, status of launch preparations?"
"We're good to go, Captain," Tony said, staring at his captain, wondering what was really going on. He continued to watch as she once again cut him out of the net to murmur quietly into her mike.
"You know, Sean—you don't mind if I call you Sean, do you?"
An inarticulate gurgle answered her.
"I'll take that as a yes. Now, as I was saying, Sean, locked in the brig, stripped of your rank, waiting for the Sallys to come for you, it might not be a pool of your own blood, but I think it will do rather nicely. I do wish your crew the best of luck in their fight. I've done everything I can for them by getting you out of the way. I do appreciate your facillitating that."
Alex set Rachere's connection to receive only before reestablishing her own connection to the command-staff battle net.
"Commander Ruggs?" Alex called out formally.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Seal the locks and blow the tubes. We're leaving."
Chapter Twenty-seven
Assault Shuttle Four
October 13, 2197
1827 z
Mars, Sol
Captain Stewart Optika, Commanding Officer, Bravo Company, Twelfth Battalion, assigned USS Valhalla, felt the pressure pushing him into his seat increase. He and his marines were at the mercy of the fates, strapped into their chairs in the belly of the assault shuttle racing toward the planet. The rest of his company was just as helpless, riding in Bravo Company's two other shuttles.
The pressure on Optika and his marines passed one g and continued to increase. With nothing to see but the blackness of space displayed on the monitors strategically placed within the troop bay, Optika allowed his mind to replay the last few hours, and how they had led to his current situation: leading an undermanned company on a combat drop onto a planet with little planning and no intel on the size and disposition of the opposition's force.
* * *
"Captain Optika reporting as ordered," the burly marine said as he stopped at the foot of the conference table, standing at attention. He felt the eyes of the three officers seated at the far end of the table taking in his appearance.
One hundred ninety centimeters and weighing close to one hundred twenty-four kilos, heavily muscled, bald with bright green eyes, he would have been described as ruggedly handsome were it not for the scars crisscrossing the right side of his face. The aftermath of a close encounter with a burst from a Xan-Sskarn flechette rifle.
He watched as the two flanking officers read th
e ribbons on his chest. Added together with his stature and the mangled remains of his face, the awe and slightly intimidated look that came across their faces was something he had come to expect.
Switching his attention to the diminutive captain seated at the head of the table, he saw something he did not expect. Respect. Respect and understanding.
So, she's someone who has been face-to-face with death, spit in his eye, and walked away. Not unscathed, though. You never walk away unscathed, and she knows it.
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