Battlecruiser Alamo: Operation Damocles

by Richard Tongue

   “You'll find something in your cabin that will make certain of that,” he replied. “Doctor Duquesne gave me a few pills for you.”

   “I hope they work.”

   “They should. I understand they're the ones she takes herself. We all have our own nightmares to live with, though I admit that yours are nearer to the surface than most.” As they walked through the ruins, he added, “You've got a lot of leave stored up. Why don't you take some of it, here on the planet?”

   “Impossible. I might be needed...”

   “Ensign Gurung and General Kelot can handle all the routine work, and if anything urgent comes up, you can be back on the ship in twenty minutes. I think you need a little time to relax.”

   “The fleshpots of a colonial city don't appeal to me that much, Professor.”

   “Then you can help with the dig, right here, away from the city. You've explored alien ruins before, and if nothing else, we can always use a strong back.” Standing a little taller, he said, “I could make this an order, you know. And Captain Orlova wouldn't even think twice.”

   “I don't know...”

   Pausing for a moment, he turned to face Cooper, and said, “I know that right now, you're tired, and your soul is hurting. Maybe you didn't come out here by accident, but because it is exactly where you needed to be. Somewhere you can find a little perspective, can get a longer view. Hell, I'll be running the dig, and as far as I'm concerned you can just lie on your back and look up at the sky all day. Whatever it takes to get you back on your feet.”

   Cooper frowned, nodded, and said, “Maybe for a few days, before we head out again.”

   Nodding, Powell said, “That's more like it. There's probably not much point going back up to the ship. We can stay at the ground station overnight, and I'll call up and make the arrangements.”

   “They're still out there, you know, Professor. Up there on the moon, and beyond.”

   “I know,” he said. “But for the moment, let that be someone else's problem. I'm sure they'll still be out there, waiting, and we've got to make sure that you're in the best possible shape to deal with them. We're going to need you at your best, whatever it takes.”

   “Yeah,” he replied, shaking his head. “Maybe you're right.”

   “Of course I am,” he said, “Prerogative of age, if not rank. Now come on. Your wife's waiting for you out there.”

   “I thought she was up in orbit?”

   “She was,” he said, looking at his watch, then glancing up at the sky. “For another ten minutes. If we hurry, we can be there when she lands. We don't want to keep her waiting, do we?”

  Chapter 15

   Orlova stood by the window in her borrowed office, looking out across the rippling waves of the bay. She'd had so many meetings with government personnel that the Vice-President had finally found her a suite in Council House, complete with a beautiful view of the sea. Already an optimist had attached a plaque to the door, announcing that the 'Triplanetary Ambassador' was within. Sooner or later, that would be true, and she was contemplating leaving someone behind when they left to hold down the job until the Senate could appoint someone.

   She glanced at her watch, checking the time. An hour until her next meeting, a delegation of local business leaders seeking detailed information she didn't have and assurances she couldn't give. Inwardly, she cursed. She was meant to be preparing for the attack on the moon, and overseeing the installation of the orbital defense network, but instead every self-important blowhard on the planet had been invited to meet her.

   At least the view was worth looking at. A couple of dozen boats drifted lazily across the water, sails furled, the local fishing fleet heading out for the day. A part of her longed to be out there with them, to seek something simpler, easier, than the political mess she'd found herself in. No one wanted to hear that the Xandari were still out there, a general assumption that her fleet would somehow deal with the garrison on the moon in short order, that they couldn't reach down here to face them.

   There was a knock on the door, which immediately opened to admit Salazar, holding a datapad in his hand. Behind him was a Copernican pilot, both of them wearing uniforms that looked as though they had been slept in.

   “Come in,” she said. “Take a seat.”

   Salazar sat down, and passed her the datapad, saying, “We've got a way to take down the base without committing to a full fleet assault.”

   “Tell me more.”

   “It was my idea, Captain,” the Copernican said. “Oh, I'm Lieutenant Jules Deveraux, commander of Ninth Intercept.”

   “Jules did a lot of training flights up there on the moon,” Salazar added. “There's a canyon, dozens of miles long, that runs in a line almost pointing directly to the base. It blocks line-of-sight almost the whole way.”

   Nodding, Deveraux said, “You come out around two miles south of the refinery. Just enough time to set up for an attack, using modified missiles. We've got the fighters and the pilots to pull this off. All we need are a couple of ships in low orbit to make a fast pass, provide a distraction. They'll only be in range of the surface missiles for a couple of minutes. No long-term bombardment needed, no major risks to anyone except the fighters.”

   “And to the fighters.”

   “Every man in my squadron has volunteered.”

   “So have I,” Salazar said. “And Bradley, as well. We'll be needed to get the squadron up to size. Nine ships to make the assault, launching from Alamo at range. They'll spot us coming down, but there isn't much they'll be able to do about it, especially not with a salvo of missiles heading towards them from orbit.”

   “I can think of a dozen things they could do, Pavel,” Orlova replied. “Starting with setting demolition charges and anti-aircraft installations in that canyon, right down to last-minute interception when you emerge.”

   Nodding, he added, “We'd use Daedalus to make a fast, low pass ten minutes before the mission starts. They can do a last-minute reconnaissance and watch for any sign of trouble.” He paused, then added, “It'd be difficult to avoid tipping them off with the sort of scouting run we're talking about, but if we time it right, they won't have a chance to do anything other than get to alert stations.”

   “I presume Kris is in on this stunt,” Orlova said, shaking her head.

   “She helped us with the report,” Deveraux added.

   “Pavel, are you confident that the fighters can pull this off?”

   “I've just taken a practice flight to test it,” he said. “If we can do it down here in this soup of an atmosphere, we can certainly do it on an airless moon. The Copernican fighters are a lot more advanced than most of the equipment they've got.” Turning to Deveraux, he added, “No offense.”

   “None taken. We'll catch up before you know it.” Looking back at Orlova, he added, “My pilots spent months training in that area while the refinery was under construction. It won't be an easy attack, but I'm sure we can pull it off.”

   “And Kris signed off on the ability of Daedalus to complete the scouting run. We'd need two Neander raiders for the orbital bombardment, and Alamo in orbit to coordinate the whole thing.” With a smile, he added, “We can be launching this mission in eight hours, Captain. Hell, we could do it in two. Give the order, and we'll launch the strike.”

   Picking up the datapad, she smiled, and replied, “I'll have to take a look at this, but as far as I'm concerned, you can consider the mission approved.”

   “Great,” Salazar said, clapping Deveraux on the shoulder. “We'll get the fighters up to Alamo right away. I'll need a shuttle for some maintenance checks for the final servicing, and...”

   Raising a hand, Orlova added, “Unfortunately, it isn't entirely up to me. Given that we're using local forces, I'll have to get confirmation.” She tapped a control on her desk, and said, “This is Captain Orlova. I need to speak to the President, right now.”

&n
bsp;  After a second, a slightly distorted voice replied, “The President is indisposed at the moment, Captain. I can have her call you back in fifteen minutes, if that is acceptable.”

   “She's in the john,” Salazar said, a smile curling on his face.

   “That would be fine,” Orlova replied, throwing him a warning look. “I'm sending her a file to look at, and if she's able, I'd like her assessment.” She paused, then added, “And while you're at it, I won't be taking any more meetings today.”

   “You'll take this one,” a gruff voice said, a Koltoc bursting through the door. “I need to talk to you, Captain, right now.”

   Orlova shut off the communicator, and replied, “Who are you?”

   “I'm Ixtab, Trade Factor. I represent the Koltoc Commonwealth on this planet.” Turning to the others, he said, “I don't think we need an audience, do we?”

   “Pavel, would the two of you wait outside?”

   Nodding, Salazar said, “Of course, Captain.” Glaring at Ixtab, he added, “The two of us will be standing right outside the door if you need us.”

   “Don't worry, Lieutenant,” Ixtab said. “I only intend to assault your superior verbally, not physically.”

   Salazar looked at the Koltoc with a frown, then walked out of the room with Deveraux in two, the door closing behind him. Orlova moved to sit behind her desk, and gestured for Ixtab to take the other seat.

   “First of all,” he began, “I formally offer my thanks, and that of my government, for your actions to defend citizens of the Commonwealth from the Xandari. Colonel Kilquan's report was voluminous in its praise, and you should know that I have formally endorsed his actions regarding the alliance with your people.”

   “I wasn't aware that was an issue,” she replied.

   “The Colonel somewhat exceeded his authority. Our Trade Factor on Testament Station was removed some months ago, and he was only temporarily holding the role.” Ixtab grimaced, and said, “I don't think I need to go into our local political squabbles here, but suffice to say that it could be some time before a replacement is found.”

   “I'd have thought it urgent to fill such a critical posting.”

   “That's precisely the problem,” he said. “Far too many people, and factions, are pushing for the appointment. It isn't simply a matter of selecting the best man for the job, I'm afraid.” With a sigh, he added, “Now that I've got the pleasantries out of the way, I'm must get to the purpose of my visit.”

   “I'm afraid there is no alternative to the destruction of the refinery,” Orlova said. “I know that it is Koltoc property, but there's simply no way to capture it, not without far greater risk and loss of life than I would ever justify or endorse. In a few minutes I'll be talking to the President about a mission plan that I expect to launch within the day.”

   Shaking his head, he added, “That's not the issue. Oh, I'll formally put in a protest about the destruction of our property, but if our roles were reversed, I'd almost certainly make the same decision. I cannot officially endorse your action, but I won't stand in your way.” Sitting back in his chair, he continued, “My objection is to your actions with regard to this planet.”

   “We've barely taken any.”

   “Really?” he replied. “All discussions over the renewal of our trade treaty were canceled this morning by the orders of the President, and my sources in her office indicate that she expects to make an undertaking with the Confederation before you leave. Certainly you've been parading local dignitaries through this office with remarkable speed.”

   “All of those appointments were made for me by the President.”

   With a sigh, he said, “Do you truly expect me to believe that you are doing all of this with no expectation of gain for your people? An orbital defense network worth millions, simply given away out of the goodness of your hearts.”

   “In exchange for basing rights for our ships, in the fight against the Xandari.”

   “Do you truly think they would have turned you down? They need a fleet to defend them, and I admit you have capabilities we don't. Our fleet is primarily mercantile. We have very few purpose-built warships, and most of our fleet is currently here at this station.”

   Orlova's eyes widened, and she replied, “I thought...”

   “A deception that I feel has no real purpose. We can, if needed, construct warships with greater speed, or arm our merchant vessels, but we've never seen a requirement for a large space fleet. Our only menace for years has been the very Neander pirates that you are now working with.” He smiled, and added, “Kilquan's comments on that particular alliance were rather amusing. I, on the other hand, welcome them. It's possible we might be able to resolve our differences peacefully.”

  Sitting back in his chair, he said, “Tell me the truth, Captain. You intend to annex this world for the Triplanetary Confederation, or tie it so tightly with entangling treaties that it will never emerge.”

   Shaking her head, she replied, “That's not our intention at all. Yes, I'm sure my government will seek to establish friendly relations, and I'm certain our trading companies will be extremely interested in operating out here, but that's just as true of the Koltoc Commonwealth as it is with Copernicus Colony.”

   “Then how do you explain the government's position?”

   “Perhaps they are no longer willing to tie their fate exclusively to you?” she snapped.

   With a dangerous smile, he replied, “Is that so, Captain? Do you know what we found when our first ship arrived in this system? Fifty thousand struggling colonists, fighting to survive, fighting a regressing technology level, a couple of tiny capsules daring into space. They might have made it by themselves, I'll grant, but we invested several fortunes in this world, building their industries, expanding their economy.” He stepped to the window, pointing at the hospital, and added, “A Koltoc company built that place, and we trained their chemists and biologists.”

   “Does that grant you the right to exploit this planet forever?”

   “If we hadn't come, there would have been nothing here to exploit. I'm sorry, Captain, but I cannot sit back and watch while you undermine our position here, and I know that the position of my government will be to resist your attempt to take over our holdings. Thousands of my citizens have built lives of their own here, and to end our relationship would be nothing less than a disaster to them. Damn it, my own daughter is marrying one of the local residents in a couple of days.”

   “Lieutenant Ryan?” Orlova asked. “Then we'll both be going to the same party.”

   He paused, looked down at his desk, and said, “I know what you did for her, Captain. Don't think that I'm not personally grateful, and if it was purely a personal matter, I'd happily do anything you ask. As a man, I owe you, and I recognize that, but I am first and foremost a representative of my government.” Turning back to the window, he said, “Maybe I've been here too long. Fifteen years, next month. I love this city, this world, as much as anyone else who lives here, and I have no intention of giving it up without a fight.”

   Stepping over to him, she replied, in a softer tone, “No one would be asking you to leave. If we did establish a trade treaty, it certainly wouldn't be on an exclusive basis. Even if Copernicus joined the Triplanetary Confederation, you'd still be free to trade here.”

   Shaking his head, he said, “That's not what I've been hearing elsewhere, Captain. There are politicians calling for our property to be confiscated, for the Koltoc to be expelled. Nothing serious, as yet, but all it will take is some demagogue deciding to take the fast route to power, and the position of our people on this planet will be jeopardized.”

   Frowning, Orlova replied, “If that happened, I doubt we'd be trading with them either. To be blunt, I suspect my superiors would place a higher priority on a treaty with your government than with this one, if there was a choice. We need a military base here, certainly, but I'm not empowered to do anything
other than gather data on any other subject.”

   “That at least is reassuring.” He shook his head, and said, “I was prepared for a rather long argument, I must confess.”

   “We aim to please,” she replied. “I'm here to win a war, Ixtab. I don't have any ambitions other than that.”

   Looking down at the datapad, he added, “I might be able to help with the attack on the refinery. Naturally my government will not play any part in it, but I could give you our blueprints of the facility.” He smiled, and added, “The Xandari expanded it according to our long-term plans. I think you might find them surprisingly accurate. They're nothing but a race of technological leeches, with a philosophy that the most ruthless tyrant would find repugnant.”

   The desk communicator bleeped, and she said, “Orlova here. Go ahead.”

   “This is the President,” Wulf replied. “I have had a quick look at your plan, and spoken to Commander Ryan, and I must confess that I have some concerns, especially that our forces seem to be at the vanguard of the attack.”

   “One of your own officers suggested the mission outline,” she replied. “Alamo doesn't have the light attack craft to do the job.”

   With a disgusted frown, Ixtab said, “They're our fighters. We sold them to the Orbital Guard last year. Hell, the pilots were trained by an old friend of mine.”

   “Nevertheless,” the President stressed, “I think we need more discussion before I can approve the plan.”

   “Madam President, you offered to put me in command of the attack, and told me that I would have full access to the resources of your military,” Orlova responded.

   Wulf paused, then replied, “I see no immediate urgency, Captain. Once the orbital defense network has been completed, the planet will be secure and we can consider taking aggressive action. I will, of course, support any action that you launch with your own forces.”

   “They're giving you every support other than actual help,” Ixtab muttered.