A Small Colonial War (Ark Royal Book 6)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Lillian,” Percy said, removing his mask. “Are you all right?”

  Lillian stared at him, then jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m fine, now,” she said. “What happened?”

  A thought clearly struck her. “I can't go back now ...”

  “You won’t have to,” Lewis said. He gave Percy an amused look, then unslung his backpack and dropped it on the deck. “What happens when you approach the outpost?”

  “They have a checkpoint,” Lillian said. She sounded perplexed; she’d gone over it twice when the SAS had first made contact. “They check my ID, they check the codes on the boxes and then they send me in to unload. I stay in the cab while they do the work.”

  “How gentlemanly of them,” Lewis said. “Listen very carefully.”

  Percy felt a stab of sympathy for Lillian as Lewis kept speaking. “We brought a GDOAB-45 bomb,” he said. “It's one of the most powerful conventional explosive weapons in existence - and it is small enough to fit in a backpack.”

  Lillian looked at the backpack on the deck, then back at him. “And that’s it?”

  “That’s it,” Lewis confirmed. “We’re going to rig the transport so it keeps going towards the outpost, then jump out. Once it reaches the checkpoint, they’ll have to try to stop it; we’ll detonate the bomb by remote control.”

  “Taking out the mass driver,” Lillian finished. “And us?”

  “We brought a spare camouflage suit for you,” Lewis said. “You’ll abandon the vehicle with us. We’ll take you back to the base until the troops begin to land.”

  Lillian glanced at Percy. “And that will be the end?”

  “For you, the war will be over,” Lewis said, gently. He walked past her and examined the controls. “They could have built a more complex processor into the vehicle.”

  Lillian turned, still holding Percy’s hand. “They didn't want something so complex we couldn't repair it,” she said. “We were planning to start producing our own tractors and bulldozers within a couple of years.”

  Percy smiled at her. “But we can still rig it to go, can't we?”

  “Of course,” Lewis said. He smirked at Percy before returning to his work. “I was hotwiring cars as a lad before I was offered a choice between jail and the army. This is a great deal easier than a commercial car. They tend to have security processors you need to bypass to get anywhere. Here ... it’s just a matter of making sure the system doesn't decide the driver is drunk at the wrong time.”

  He finished his work and stood. “Percy, help her into her suit,” he ordered. “I’ll deal with the Indian.”

  “I’m already wearing a suit,” Lillian said. She frowned, doubtfully. “Will yours fit me?”

  “They’re designed for all sizes,” Percy said, leading her into the backroom. He was suddenly nervous to be with her, even though he had a job to do. “And it will change colour to match the background.”

  Lillian smiled, weakly. “Thank you,” she said, as he dug the suit out of his backpack and unfolded it. “What now?”

  “Now?” Percy said. He turned his back as she pulled the suit on, even though she wore her civilian clothes underneath. “Now we wait until we’re closer to the target.”

  An hour later, Lewis carried the Indian soldier into the back, wrapped him in a life-support bubble and checked the controls one final time before opening the hatch. Percy could see the outpost in the distance - shooting regular pulses into the sky - as he jumped down to the ground, then caught Lillian and the Indian. Lewis joined them a moment later, holding a detonator in one hand. They hurried to find cover and watched as the vehicle trundled onwards, aimed right at the Indian checkpoint.

  Lillian pressed her helmet against his. “They normally expect me to slow down before I reach the checkpoint,” she said. “What happens if they open fire?”

  “Depends what they start throwing at it,” Percy answered. A handful of bullets wouldn't be enough to disable the bomb, but if one of the Indians opened fire with an antitank weapon the entire mission might fail spectacularly. “We’ll see ...”

  He peered forward as the suited Indian soldiers finally realised that something was wrong and jerked up their rifles. It didn't look as though they had anything heavier, although a British checkpoint would have several machine guns or antitank weapons stowed away, just in case of emergency. Maybe they honestly hadn't realised that the SAS team had made it to the surface. They’d know now, he told himself; there could be no other explanation. How could anyone have obtained a GDOAB-45 without access to a military storage dump?

  “Get down,” he snapped. Lillian wouldn’t have any implants to help cope with a sudden flash of blinding light. “And close your eyes ...”

  The ground shook. He looked up, just in time to see a colossal fireball shatter the giant mass driver, sending pieces of debris flying into the air. The outpost was gone; he felt a moment of sympathy for the Indians before pushing the thought aside. If the other missions had gone as well, the gateway to Clarke was open ...

  And now, he thought, the endgame can begin.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Clarke III, Pegasus System

  “Confirmation from the surface, sir,” Sally said. “Three mass drivers are gone. The landing window is open!”

  “Signal Colonel Boone,” James ordered. “The landing force is to begin deployment; I say again, the landing force is to begin deployment.”

  He turned his attention back to the display, silently running through the vectors for the final time. There was now a window, a zone of space the Indians could no longer hit; the marine transports would be making their way into that window now, ready to launch landing craft as soon as they entered orbit. And the Indians couldn't do anything to stop them, unless they'd managed to emplace other ground-based defence systems on the surface without being noticed.

  They’ll be landing at least fifty kilometres from the colony, he thought. But it will be enough to keep the Indian forces from intervening.

  “Colonel Boone acknowledges,” Sally reported. “The marines are on their way.”

  Link up with the SAS, deploy light armoured forces and start the advance on the colony, James thought. He’d seen the plans, back when they’d been outlining their options. And then force the Indians to surrender.

  He shivered. And pray the Indians don’t decide to fight to the finish, he added, inwardly. We might win, but destroy the colony in the process.

  ***

  The operator swallowed. “Sir,” he reported. “Outposts Five, Nine and Ten are gone.”

  Vasanta swore. “Gone? What do you mean, gone?”

  “They’ve been destroyed, sir,” the operator said. “Outpost Five went off the air ten minutes ago; Outposts Nine and Ten reported that they were coming under attack before we lost contact. They have to have been taken out completely.”

  They must have slipped a team down to the moon, Vasanta thought. He would have thought it was impossible, but the British had evidently succeeded. There was no way the colonists could have taken out three mass driver outposts simultaneously. Maybe they managed to get someone down to the moon before their task force arrived.

  He keyed the console, projecting a display showing the mass driver fields of fire. No matter how he looked at it, there was no way to avoid a giant blind spot; the British could funnel their ships through the blind spot and then start landing troops, without running the risk of being picked off by the mass drivers. Hell, they were probably already preparing to land troops. He wouldn't have given the defenders any time to react if he’d been on the opposite side.

  “Very well,” he said. He might be down, but he wasn't out. “Deploy a MANPAD team - no, two teams - into the blind spot. And then start deploying additional patrols around the colony.”

  “Yes, sir,” the operator said.

  They have to have the colony under observation, Vasanta thought. And that means they’d have to be somewhere nearby. We could find them ...

&n
bsp; He closed his eyes, in pain. “Order the remaining outposts to tighten their defences,” he ordered, finally. The British might have taken advantage of the opportunity to slip inside the defensive lines. “They are to check the transports carefully before allowing them to unload.”

  ***

  Lillian couldn't help feeling cold as she slogged along, despite the protection of the environmental suit. Percy held her arm gently; his companion, who seemed inclined to tease him whenever he had a moment, dragged the Indian’s survival ball behind him as they hurried northwards. The snow was starting to fall again, drifting down from evil-looking clouds high overhead; she felt nervous as she realised just how exposed they were. If they couldn't make it to the SAS’s base camp in time, they were likely to freeze to death and die under the poisonous snow.

  It was hard to keep going, despite knowing what was at stake. She honestly wasn't sure how she'd managed to endure for so long. Percy kept smiling at her, as if he thought she could make it; Lillian wasn't sure how she could tell him that she was on the verge of collapse. She just couldn't find the words. They reached the edge of the frozen ocean and turned west, heading along the shoreline; Lillian stared at the ice, wondering if there was anything interesting hidden deep down, where it was warmer. It wasn't so long ago that humanity had discovered primitive life forms under the ice of a dozen different worlds.

  And the Tadpoles prefer to stay under the water, she thought, forcing her mind to stay off the walk. She’d been told, long ago, that the key to walking a long distance was not to think about just how far she had to go. There might be an intelligent form of life under the ice.

  It wasn't a pleasant thought. Some of the settlers had taken to claiming they’d seen living creatures, half-hidden in the snow; no one believed a word of them, but there were moments when they seemed convincing. Lillian herself suspected they were nothing more than wishful thinking - it was easy to delude herself into believing a shape, briefly glimpsed, was a humanoid creature - unless the Indians had been scouting out the colony well before the uprising on Vesy. Maybe they had been watching from the very beginning. They certainly hadn't had any trouble establishing their outposts on the surface ...

  Percy squeezed her arm as the snow began to settle. Darkness was falling over Clarke III, a faint glow over the horizon reminding her of the gas giant’s presence. She looked around, half-expecting to see something buried in the ground, but saw nothing. And then she looked up. A dozen shuttles were falling to the ground, landing neatly on the snowy plain. Their hatches opened as soon as they touched down, allowing a stream of armoured soldiers to flow out and take up defensive positions around the craft. They were followed by a handful of armoured vehicles, their weapons swivelling around, searching for targets, as they headed for the edge of the landing field. Percy beckoned her towards the nearest shuttle, his companion following with the Indian in his bubble. The hatch opened, revealing two more armoured men. Lillian swallowed nervously and followed Percy into the vehicle.

  “I’m afraid we’re going to have to check your ID,” one of the armoured men said, once the hatch had closed. “Get your suit off and into the next room.”

  Lillian nodded and did as she was told.

  ***

  Percy was privately impressed that Lillian had managed to keep going, even though she was a naval crewwoman who probably hadn't done more exercise than the bare minimum demanded by regulations every week. It would not have been particularly easy for her to keep going, but she’d made it. Watching her nervous face as she removed her suit and walked into the next compartment was more than he could bear, yet he had no choice. All he could do was make his own report and hope that Lillian didn't run into any more trouble.

  “She’s a keeper,” Lewis said, as they hurried through a different hatch. “You could do worse.”

  “Thank you,” Percy said, dryly. He straightened to attention as he saw Colonel Boone. It had been months since they’d last met on Vesy, but he’d come to respect the Para. “Lieutenant Percy Schneider reporting, sir.”

  “Pleased to see you again, Lieutenant,” Boone said. He turned his gaze to Lewis. “And Sergeant Lewis. It’s been a long time since Libya.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lewis said.

  He cleared his throat. “We took out the mass driver outpost, sir,” he reported. “To the best of our knowledge, there were no enemy survivors, but we didn't stick around to check.”

  “Understood,” Boone said. He glanced from one to the other. “I’ve heard from the other two troops. They were both successful in completing their mission.”

  Which we knew already, Percy thought, darkly. The landing force wouldn't have been able to make it through if one of the targeted mass drivers had survived. And you wouldn't have directed us to rendezvous with the shuttles if you hadn't been planning to land.

  “We’re currently securing the landing zone and making preparations to advance towards the colony,” Boone continued. “I’d recommend that you both got some sleep and then rejoin your unit.”

  And in my case, I’m not sure which one is my unit, Percy thought, numbly. Do I rejoin the Royal Marines or stick with the SAS?

  “Understood, sir,” Lewis said. “I assume we will be bivouacked with the marines?”

  “We’re setting up tents now, but you might be better off snatching a couple of racks in the command vehicle,” Boone said. “Miss Turner will have to answer hundreds of questions from the intelligence staff, then she will probably be shipped back to the carrier until the end of the war. I don’t see any further use for her on the surface.”

  Percy cleared his throat. “She was technically exiled to Clarke, sir,” he said. He’d intended to speak to Admiral Fitzwilliam after the war, but the shooting wasn't over yet. “Can you make a note in her file that she didn't leave willingly?”

  Boone gave him a sharp look. “I read her file,” he said, finally. “She won’t be blamed for leaving the planet, at least not for the moment. Afterwards ... well, we can settle her precise legal status later.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Percy said.

  “Go get some rest,” Boone ordered. “I’ll see you are both redeployed in the morning.”

  ***

  Lillian hadn't really expected gentle treatment from the newcomers, but she was surprised, despite herself, at just how cautious they were. Her fingerprints were taken, her blood was sampled, her retina patterns were scanned ... by the time they ordered her to strip naked and scan every last centimetre of her body, she was starting to feel more than a little exposed, as if she no longer had any secrets worth keeping. Afterwards, clad in a dressing gown, she was led into yet another compartment, where three intelligence officers were waiting for her.

  “I’m sorry about your treatment,” the first one said. His nametag was blank, as if he intended to keep his identity a secret. Lillian mentally tagged him Alpha. “However, we have to be careful.”

  “I understand,” Lillian said. “The Indians could have bugged me.”

  “They didn't, as far as we can tell,” the second one said. “You were clean.”

  “And cleaner too, after that examination,” Lillian muttered. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything,” Alpha said. He took a breath. “I have been ordered to inform you that you are not facing any charges, particularly not as a collaborator. Given the circumstances, you did all you reasonably could to resist and, of course, you played a vital role in the destruction of one of their mass drivers. Indeed, I believe you will be in line for a medal when news reaches home.”

  “That’s good,” Lillian said. She wasn't sure she believed him. She'd never had any real contact with counter-intelligence officers, but she’d seen too many movies where they were portrayed as finger-stroking moustache-twirling power brokers, willing to lie, cheat and steal to get someone pinned down as the enemy spy. “What would you like me to tell you first?”

  “Let’s start with the simple question,” Beta said. “What happened to Gover
nor Brown and the military personnel on the colony?”

  Lillian frowned. “The Governor was taken away two days after the colony was occupied,” she said. Majors had gone to some trouble to establish the point. “At least, he was never seen after that date. The military personnel were captured as POWs; I don't think any of them were ever returned to the colony. I don't know what happened to them.”

  Beta scowled. “Do you think they might have been murdered?”

  Lillian hesitated. “I don't think so.”

  “You don’t think so,” Alpha repeated. “Why?”

  Lillian took a moment to think, putting her words in order. “The Indians took considerable precautions to prevent atrocities,” she said, “or even simple harassment. We - all the women on the colony - were told to report any soldier who tried to grope us, let alone rape us. I think they were serious, because they actually kept a distance from us when we weren't being put to work. We wouldn't have been able to put that transmitter together if they’d watched us constantly.”