Battlecruiser Alamo: Ghost Ship

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Battlecruiser Alamo: Ghost Ship Page 19

by Richard Tongue


   Frowning, Logan said, “The drugs. Where are they introduced into the system?”

   “There is a heavily guarded military base out in the jungle. Far too well-fortified for us to consider attacking except as a last resort.”

   “No civilians?”

   “Just government personnel. We would need to be ready with a rising, though, and…”

   Looking sharply at Gaxric, Logan said, “There will be no assassinations, not if you expect the assistance of the Triplanetary Confederation. This world is at least nominally a democracy, isn’t it?”

   “Theoretically, but in practice that hasn’t been the case for decades.”

   “Then there would need to be a new series of elections for a new Council, and they would decide what would happen henceforth. If you try and seize power, even if you succeed, all you are inviting is a civil war that would do as much damage as the one you are fighting in orbit. Or do you tell me that every member of your rebellion is on the same side.”

   “We stand together to free our world…”

   “And afterward? All of you agree what must happen next? I don’t believe it, and neither do you. There will be a dozen petty factions within a matter of weeks, and within months there will be open revolt, no matter what you think and hope now.”

   “Do you think so little of us?”

   Looking him in the eyes, Logan said, “I’m speaking from far too bitter experience. Do you know how close the Confederation came to collapse, during the war and immediately after? We had a few flirtations with disaster, my friend, but each time we managed to drag ourselves back from the brink. You don’t even have the advantage we had, a politically aware population.”

   Gaxric looked at the ground, and said, “What do you propose? That we enslave ourselves to your Confederation, permit you to guide us to truth and freedom?” He barked a laugh, then said, “Have we at last determined your goal in all of this?”

   “You think we’re strong enough to put the sort of garrison here that would be required to govern this place? We don’t conquer.” He glanced at Singh, then said, “We know what it is like to be an oppressed people far too well to inflict that on anyone else.”

   Shaking his head, the rebel said, “For more than a century, we have labored in the pursuit of freedom, hoping that the day would dawn when we or our children might enjoy peace. Now you tell us that we are destined for war.”

   “Tell me. When the drugs wear off, what do you propose to do then? Hope and trust that they will suddenly be different? You’ll have to work within the framework you have, bring the people around slowly. We’ll help you where we can, provide technological uplift, get you back into the wider galaxy again.”

   With a sigh, Gaxric said, “And we are swallowed up by the mass of humanity, our distinctiveness destroyed and dispersed. At best a historical relic to amuse tourists, at worse a clone of your own cities on Mars and Callisto. I see.”

   “That need not be so,” Singh said. “Not if you refuse to permit it. My homeland was destroyed by war, a century ago, shattered beyond the prospect of habitation. We survived, scattered across the world, but our culture did not die.” He tapped his chest, and said, “It lived because we refused to let it end, and now in a hundred places, a thousand, across Earth and beyond, it lives still. This can be the case with you.”

   Breaking in, Logan said, “Can you give me the location of that drugs refinery?”

   “A hundred miles south-west of here, along the coast. It’s adjacent to a desalination and processing plant where we get our water, all the cities here.”

   “All of them depend on one plant?” Singh said, his eyes widening. “That seems like a foolish risk.”

   “There are many redundant systems, I understand, and each city has reserves, but the main priority has always been security. Not against a threat from orbit, but from anyone who might dispute the right of the Council to rule.”

   “When the hell did all this start?” Logan said, shaking his head as he called up a map on his datapad. “There must have been some reason.”

   “Ninety years ago, there were riots, pogroms against the Cult of Earth that saw thousands killed, lynch mobs roaming the streets. The Council introduced drugs, sedatives, into the drinking water to try and restore order. It was threatening the almighty war, you see.”

   “And they never stopped.”

   “Just another emergency measure that ended up as a permanent feature of our world. Like the suspension of free elections and private news media. Now everything begins and ends with the Council.”

   “All of this has a rather familiar ring to it,” Singh said,

   Logan looked at the orbital map, frowning. It was hard to tell where the jungle began and the complex ended, and the water purification plant was a lot too close for his liking. If they had some of the atmospheric fighters they’d been talking about back home, this would be an easy operation.

   “What are you thinking?” Singh asked, looking over his shoulder.

   “Orbital strike on the drug set-up,” he replied, shaking his head.

   “That’s more like it!” Gaxric replied. “We could go along with that.”

   “Why are you shaking your head?”

   Logan sighed, and said, “I’m not sure we can do it without doing a lot of damage to the water purification plant. There’s too much cover, and the targeting sensors on a missile will have trouble.” After a pause, he said, “It would be a quick and easy way of bringing the local government down, though.”

   “My people can be in position to stop the local water supplies being used, as long as the main pipelines were still open,” Gaxric said, a smile spreading across his face. “So you will help us.”

   “This isn’t my decision to make, and as I said, I’m not sure we can do it.”

   “I trained as a forward observer for orbital bombardment,” Singh said. “I believe I still have a basic understanding of how those systems work, even though it was twenty years ago.”

   “A hundred miles through that jungle? We’d be lucky to get through in a month, never mind in a few hours.”

   Tenacious as a dog with a bone, Gaxric said, “It isn’t anything like as bad as that. There are old trails and tracks that we could use for most of the way, and enough trucks take that route that I don’t think anyone would notice. We could infiltrate the compound, at least close enough for you to call in your air-strike.”

   “Can we do it with the materials we’ve got?” Singh asked.

   “Oddly enough, I have a laser sight of the kind we would need on me.” Logan looked at the rebel and asked, “The real question is whether you want to go through with this.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “If we execute this plan, and if all goes well, you will be in a very delicate and difficult position in a few days from now. You’ll have to find a way of keeping this planet together, and I think you’ll find that far harder than leading a group of rebels, dreaming of the day of liberty. Dreams are fine, but the harsh reality is more like a nightmare. Take my word for it.”

   Nodding, he replied, “There are a few others I must consult with. I will not share any details of the plan, only that a way exists that might lead to bringing an end to the rule of the Council.” He looked around, and said, “I will return shortly. Wait here for me.”

   “I haven’t got any other plans for today,” Logan said, moving over to a chair by the door. The rebel walked out, striding purposefully down the corridor, and he looked after him, shaking his head. He was too eager, far too eager, but that wasn’t necessarily a disqualification from the job he was setting out to do.

   “I was under the impression that the Triplanetary Confederation did not engage in regime change, Logan. Captain Marshall seemed quite clear on the subject.”

   Gesturing around the ward, Logan said, “He hasn’t seen any of this. We can’t just leave things the
way they were. Hell, it’s an unstable situation anyway, and everything I’ve seen makes me more and more certain it is the case. What would the Enemy do if they found out about the drug site?”

   “Try and destroy it, presuming that the resultant chaos would win them the war.”

   “Exactly. That’s assuming they don’t simply wipe out everyone on this planet in a few days in any case. This all could be extremely academic.”

   “And afterward?”

   “After all this is over? Your guess is as good as mine, Colonel. That depends on what Alamo decides to do. We’re stuck in the middle of all of this, and I don’t see any easy solutions. Do you?”

   “There remains the option of pulling out of this planet, withdrawing from the system, and leaving them to decide their own destiny.”

   “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

   With a sigh, Singh said, “One cannot be the policeman of the galaxy, Logan. I have a sense that you have learned that lesson before.”

   “I can’t just sit back and watch all this happen, and neither can you. There are millions of lives at stake, and ultimately…”

   “It is better to be alive than dead, because there is always the possibility of a better tomorrow.”

   “I couldn’t have put it any better myself.” He pulled out his communicator and said, “Let’s see what the man in the worry seat thinks about it.” Tapping a control, he continued, “Logan to Alamo. I need to speak to the Captain, top priority.”

  Chapter 20

   Marshall could hardly believe that he was standing outside of the Commandant’s quarters. He’d made a promise to himself to let him stew in his cabin until they got back to the Confederation, not wanting to provide him with any chance to gather information – or perhaps, he told himself, because he didn’t trust that he wouldn’t try any tricks. Now, he found himself ringing for admittance, and the door slid open.

   “Come in, Captain. I was wondering when you would come and see me.”

   “What made you think I would?”

   “Battle stations numerous times in the system, combat maneuvers, missile attacks? You might have gone to considerable lengths to keep me from sources of information, but I don’t need any special intelligence to know that you have some sort of problem, and that you want someone to give you a different perspective.”

   He almost turned and walked out, but the Commandant said, “In all honesty, I would like to be of assistance.”

   “There are two enemies in this system, both of them apparently hating one another. Both want the same thing, the planet that one of them occupies, but another is about to win the war. At a cost of millions of lives.”

   “I see. And you want to intervene.” He smiled, and said, “I’m going to guess now that the side you are hoping to save is not a paragon of truth, liberty and justice.”

   “Correct.” He stepped in, sitting down opposite his prisoner, and said, “They remind me rather of what I have seen of the Cabal. That’s why I want to talk to you.”

   The Commandant laughed, and said, “You want the input of a servant of a dictatorship. You think that I am a better judge of how they think than you are?” Shaking his head, he continued, “I am not sure whether this is an insult or a compliment, but I will do my best. Is this a military junta?”

   “No, an oligarchy.”

   “That makes a difference, you see. Their primary objective will be the preservation of their own, especially if it has degenerated to hereditary rule. You will find that they are engaged in power struggles among themselves, but you know that much already. Understand that their origins are likely from good motives, especially if their people were threatened.”

   “They’re keeping half of their population in a drugged stupor…”

   “But there will be reasons for that, reasons that they consider good, though you might find the occasional cynic who will be willing to admit the truth. Such leadership groups are self-selecting, promoting those they believe to have the same beliefs and strengths as themselves. That makes them conservative, resistant to change. You will find them hard to argue with, except from a position of strength.”

   “They’ve been treacherous already,” Marshall said. “And have assumed that we would simply do as they request.”

   “Because to them,” the Commandant replied, “it is simply the logical thing to do, so why should you not do as they ask? To them it seems the most natural thing. Moreover, they will have not experienced any resistance to their orders for some time, not since they attained their current position. They are used to being in charge, and will act always as if they control the agenda.”

   Nodding, he replied, “And when it becomes apparent that they don’t?”

   “That depends on the character of the people involved, but in my experience,” he paused, then said, “I suspect you will find that they attempt to defend their positions to the last, regardless of the wisdom of such a decision. You would be far better off finding some ambitious person in a lower tier, possibly one seeking advancement, and attaching him to your banner. I venture he will prove far more pliable.”

   “I want the best outcome for the people of this planet.”

   Smiling, the Commandant said, “With the greatest respect, what you wish to do is impose your own views on the best future of this world on its people. You may or may not be wrong, but that is what you wish to do. I would advise you to remember that.”

   Marshall’s face darkened, and he said, “Just what do you mean by that?”

   “Exactly what I said. You are the man on the spot, and your decision should be final. Do not second-guess yourself, and do what you believe is right. Time alone will tell you whether or not you were correct, but that must not stop you from acting – especially as I gather that inaction will have very final consequences.”

   Standing up, he replied, “I’ll take what you said under advisement.”

   “They will be rigid and inflexible, Captain. But there is always room for maneuver in the theater of personal gain, and political survival. I would remember that.”

   There was a cough at the door, and Marshall turned to see Caine standing at the threshold, a datapad in her hand. With a quick nod to the Commandant, he walked out of the room, waiting for the door to close behind him.

   “What’s the story, Deadeye?”

   “A two hundred page protest about our actions, but Haven’s not doing anything else about it.”

   “Two hundred? I’ll wait for the film to come out.”

   “Shouldn’t you read it?”

   “That’s what we have Sub-Lieutenants for, isn’t it? Besides, I already know what it says. A lot of stuff about the heinous crime we have committed, something about disappointment, but at the end of the day, they won’t do anything about it other than write a letter of protest because there is nothing else they can do.”

   “You’re in a cynical mood this morning.”

   “Have you read Logan’s report?”

   She nodded, and said, “And right now, you are tempted to fire off that missile.”

   “I ordered him to get down there and make ready, in case we decide to do it.”

   “Will you?”

   “We can’t just leave the situation as it stands. Even if we manage to stop the aliens launching their attack, I’m not about to ally the Confederation with a power like that.”

   “The Senate…”

   “Will go along with it because I don’t think any Senator wants to be associated with drug-based control of a civilian population, do you? They might fume inside, but what are they going to do about it?”

   “End your career.”

   “I decided a long time ago that if it came down to it, losing my career was a small price to pay if it meant making a decision that would save lives.”

   “Then what are we going to do?”

   “That very much depen
ds on what our guest has to say. I’m on my way to see her now.”

   “Mind if I tag along?”

   “I was rather hoping you would.”

   They stepped into the elevator, tapping the controls to take them down to sickbay, and she said, “Do you think she’ll be any easier to deal with? Don’t forget that her people fired on us as soon as we arrived in the system, and they are holding the Dumont crewmen hostage.”

   “Getting them back is at the forefront of my mind, but Singh was quite right. There are a lot of people who don’t have a say in what’s happening here today, and someone’s got to look out for them.”

   Shaking her head, she said, “We were so damn close to making it home, as well.”

   “We’re going home,” he replied. “Count on it. Besides, those ships are no match for Alamo’s firepower.”

   “We still don’t have any answer to their missiles other than brute force, and I can only fire six missiles at a time. If you’ve got visions of taking on one of their fleets without support, I’m going to have to disappoint you.”

   With a grin, he replied, “Poor Quinn. He’s spent most of this trip putting the ship back together, and I’m going to get her shot up again.”

   “These aren’t our people, Danny. We don’t have any responsibility for any of this.”

   “Don’t we? I can’t just watch this play out.”

   The door opened, and they stepped out, walking past the saluting guards into sickbay. Doctor Duquesne was frowning over a terminal, while the alien sat cross-legged on one of the beds, looking up as Marshall stepped in.

   “I’m glad to finally make your acquaintance,” he said. “My name is Lieutenant-Captain Marshall, commander of this vessel.”

   “I am Kolzak, CR-41,” she replied. “I understand your language tolerably well.”

   “You speak it well, also,” he said. “You saw to it that your ship was destroyed. That wasn’t just an act of revenge, was it.”

   Shaking her head, she replied, “I was denying critical information to the enemy.” Frowning, she asked, “Are you the enemy?”

 

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