Crimson Worlds Collection I

by Jay Allan

  "Byron, there is no way - no way - I am going to abandon this ship and crew to run and save my own skin."

  "But, sir..."

  "That's the last word, Captain Charles." Garret's voice was stern. Abandoning his flagship just wasn't in him, and leaving the crew behind to die while he ran away was utterly unthinkable.

  "Now detecting a second wave of missiles, Admiral." Nelson paused a second, then continued. "Preliminary analysis indicated a similar pattern to the first volley."

  So that's it, Garret thought. They're expending an entire fleet's ordnance just to kill me. I suppose it's flattering, he mused with grim humor. Though the thought of everyone on Cromwell dying because of him drove away even dark amusement.

  "Nelson, I want a plan to fire what missiles we have in defense of Cromwell. Maximum coverage timed to intercept the enemy first wave." He didn't have many missiles, but all of them were multiple warhead weapons. Every 200 megaton bomb would destroy any incoming missile over a 10 kilometer radius. The key was timing the launches and subsequent detonations to catch the enemy missiles in the blast zone.

  The fleet AIs couldn't modify the fleet's thrust plan without jeopardizing the ability of some ships to hit the warp gate, but they did reorder targeting priorities and combine the entire force in a single defensive array around Cromwell.

  The missiles were fired first, detonating along the projected path of the incoming attack. The enemy missiles were bunched together as they closed on their single target, and the Alliance fleet AIs were able to take out over half the first wave, the incoming weapons consumed in the thermonuclear fire of Garret's limited defensive barrage. Point defense rockets and lasers tore into the remaining missiles, and only five got close enough to Cromwell to have an effect.

  The ship shook violently as it was impacted by multiple shockwaves. Only one missile got near enough to cause serious damage, but that one was close indeed, and it tore into the starboard side of the ship, ripping open compartments and knocking out the control system for one of the reactors.

  Garret lurched forward out of his couch as the Cromwell's engines shut down with the power loss and the intense g forces of acceleration abruptly stopped. He was already getting damage control reports from Nelson. Normally, he left Cromwell to Captain Charles and concerned himself with the overall condition of the fleet. But Cromwell was the only fleet unit currently under attack.

  "Enemy second wave incoming, sir." Simon's voice was somber. "Estimate to detonation range, 3 minutes."

  It was going to be worse this time, Garret thought. He had no missiles left and would have to rely entirely on conventional point defense. And they weren't going to get their engines back online in three minutes, which meant his course was even more predictable than it had been - straight ahead at a constant velocity. Cromwell couldn't have been an easier target.

  Garret was about to order all personnel to abandon non-essential outer compartments when he heard Captain Charles issue the same order. "Ok, Byron, it's your ship," he was muttered softly to himself.

  "Admiral, I insist that you leave the ship at once." Charles again in his earpiece. His voice was almost frantic. He knew the chances Cromwell had of coming through this.

  Garret was about to answer when Lieutenant Simon had the same idea. She stood up and turned to face his command chair. "Admiral, you have to leave the Cromwell."

  He spoke to both of them at once. "Under no circumstances am I going to leave the ship. We will get through this attack." A slight pause. "Now we all have better things to do, so return to your posts immediately."

  "Thirty seconds to projected enemy detonations." Nelson, at least, was remaining on point, Garret thought. There was nothing else to do, so he sat quietly, watching the readouts on the effect of the fleet's point defense on the incoming missiles. They were doing well, but not well enough.

  All around the Cromwell, space erupted into atomic fury as warhead after warhead exploded. At least ten were close enough to cause significant damage, and the Cromwell shook violently. Power flickered, then failed as the second reactor was destroyed. Entire sections of the ship were torn away, the men and women stationed there killed immediately or blown into space. Their pressure suits would keep them alive for a while, but the fleet was not stopping to conduct rescue operations so they had little hope of survival. Even if there was a chance of rescue, the space around Cromwell was an unhealthy place for an unprotected person, and many would be exposed to massive heat waves and high radiation levels. Along the port side, an entire chunk of the ship was torn off, four decks and over 30 crew members tumbling off into space, powerless and out of control.

  The flag bridge was dimly lit, the reserve batteries providing limited power to run the vital systems. Debris was strewn about, and life support systems were failing. Garret's people were still at their stations, working feverishly, though there was little they could truly do. They were still in the middle of the second barrage, but their scanners showed the third one seven minutes out. They might survive the current attack...barely. The third was a death sentence.

  Garret was about to direct Captain Charles to order all non-essential personnel to abandon ship...and he was going to tell his people to go too, though he doubted they would obey. His action was cut short by the detonation of one of the last missiles of the second wave. The warhead exploded less than 8 kilometers from Cromwell. The shockwave smacked into the foundering ship, sending it spinning violently. All through the Cromwell, structural members failed and entire sections of the ship collapsed.

  Garret was strapped to his chair when the huge plasti-steel girder gave way and crashed to the deck. He couldn't remember it hitting him...one minute he was in his command chair and the next we was lying under the massive beam. He didn't feel any pain, only the taste of blood on his lips. Around him his people struggled and shouted as they tried desperately to somehow control an uncontrollable situation.

  He was vaguely aware of people talking to him, straining to try to move the debris that pinned him to the deck. But all that seemed distant, ephemeral. His mind filled with strange thoughts, old memories. He was a cadet again, newly arrived at the Academy. He could almost smell the rose bushes in the admiral's garden. She was there too...the girl he'd left for the service, her long red hair blowing in the gentle breeze. Young Augustus Garret wanted glory - and he'd gotten more than his share. But what had he lost....what had he left behind? His mind drifted slowly, steadily, until the growing darkness took him.

  Chapter 10

  I Corps HQ

  Columbia - Eta Cassiopeiae II

  "But Epsilon Eridani is a backwater. It was a moderately productive mining colony, but from what I hear it was shut down completely by some plague. Why the hell would they scrap the rest of Sherman to send us there?" Cain's voice was strained. He was trying to control his anger, but it had been a frustrating morning.

  General Holm sat at the head of the conference table, his expression blank, unreadable. The general was wearing his poker face and not letting anyone know what he was thinking. The discussion had been subdued, mostly because the damned political officers were there too. They'd more or less been staying out of the way until the previous day. Clearly, they'd gotten their own orders regarding this entire Epsilon Eridani matter, and they'd been stuck to their assigned officers like glue ever since. Cain was the closest to boiling over, but a lot of the others were getting sick of it too.

  "Erik, we don't know everything yet. We have to assume there is a good reason." He stared briefly at Cain, not long enough for anyone else to notice. Erik Cain was a great soldier, maybe the best Holm had ever seen. But no one was about to assign him to the diplomatic corps. Blunt, direct, and incredibly stubborn, Cain simply would not, in his mind, lower himself to consider the politics of a situation. He considered politicians something he'd scrape off his boot with a stick - and maybe he'd wear a glove when he did it. Holm was just grateful that Cain's political officer hadn't ended up in a ditch somewhere.

/>   "Indeed, Colonel Cain. The general is correct. It is not our purpose to initiate matters of grand strategy or question orders from the high command, but simply to execute those directives as effectively as possible." Captain Peter Warren was the political officer assigned to "assist" Cain, a job he'd found to be challenging to say the least.

  Cain flushed with anger, but he'd understood the general's brief glance, and he bit down hard on his rage. "Understood, general. I can assure you that 1st Brigade will be ready to execute its orders." He looked right at Holm, ignoring the political officer as if he didn't exist.

  "I want all of you to have your units ready to begin uploading in five days." Holm tapped on his 'pad briefly. "I have transmitted berthing assignments for all formations. There have been some changes, so I want everyone to review these within the hour and contact my staff with any questions or concerns. Now is the time to address any issues, not in five days."

  Holm looked back at Cain. "Erik, your brigade is 100% ready, so you should have some free time. Major Linden will be returning this afternoon; her ship just entered orbit. She's going to have a tight schedule getting her people ready in five days from a standing start. I'd like you to assist in any way possible." Holm had a good poker face, but he couldn't hold back a tiny smile. Most of the officers at the table were well aware that Cain and I Corps beautiful medical chief of staff were lovers.

  "Yes, sir!" The sour expression he'd worn all morning softened considerably.

  Holm's eyes scanned the seated officers. "Very well. I will want to meet with each of you individually to review your unit statuses. Lieutenant Raynor will get back to you with schedules. In the meantime we all have work to do, so let's get to it. Dismissed."

  The assembled officers rose, snapping off salutes to the general before heading to the door. Holm allowed himself a passing grin as he watched Cain walk out. He must be happy, Holm thought. He even managed a textbook grade salute!

  Cain walked briskly across the quad, and for the first time in quite a while there was a smile on his face. Sarah Linden had been the executive officer of medical services for Operation Sherman. When the campaign was suspended, she accompanied the wounded to Armstrong, the Marines' hospital planet, personally supervising the care and transfer of over 6,000 injured men and women. Cain had personal experience with just how good a doctor Sarah Linden truly was, and he couldn't imagine how many lives she'd saved.

  Now she was back, and Erik couldn't wait to see her. It had been over six months and, though they were used to long periods apart, Erik had actually gotten accustomed to seeing her frequently on the campaign. Rank has its privileges, and if shuttling over to the med ship a few times was one of them, no one begrudged him. Not with his combat record.

  Sarah was billeted in the support services section of the camp, a fairly long walk from Cain's quarters adjoining 1st Brigade HQ. He figured she'd just gotten in, but why waste any time? He walked up to the entry and identified himself to the AI, and a few seconds later the door opened.

  Her quarters were large, not as plush as his now that he was a pretend general, but very nice nevertheless. Neither one of them would have anywhere near this much room once they boarded ship...though again, his acting-general status would get him a few extra square meters.

  He walked through the door as she came running up from the back room and threw her arms around his neck. "God, I missed you." Her voice was happy, but also tired.

  "I'm going to need to have you assigned as my personal doctor." He laughed softly as he held her tightly. "The separations are getting too hard."

  "Touching scene." Erik was startled by the voice coming from the darkened doorway to the back room. A familiar voice.

  Sarah smiled. "I have to tell you, I've been seeing another man." She giggled and stepped back as General Holm walked into the light.

  "I can't tell you two how haunted by guilt I am to interrupt this reunion." He grinned. He was joking, of course, but he did feel a little bad about his timing. "However, I am the closest thing to a matchmaker you two have. Except, of course, the nuke that sent you into her tender-loving care in the first place." Holm was, in fact, largely responsible for their relationship. They'd met when Sarah had nursed a badly wounded Erik back to health, but it wasn't until they spent six months together on Earth that they really became inseparable. And it was General Holm who'd gotten Sarah Linden assigned to that trip.

  "Don't be silly, sir." Cain began a sloppy salute, but Holm waved him off.

  "Don't try to salute, son. I'd hate to have you hurt yourself." They all laughed. Cain was a notoriously poor saluter. Despite his exemplary record in the Corps, deep down he had a major resentment of authority, and it came through in his salutes. Fortunately, Holm had been his CO for quite some time, and the general didn't give a rat's ass whether Cain snapped him a sharp salute or not.

  "Erik," Holm continued, "I really am sorry to disturb you both tonight, but I need to talk to you privately, and I figured even Captain Warren wasn't stupid enough to try and follow you here."

  "I'll give the two of you a few minutes." Sarah smiled and started to walk toward the back room.

  Holm put his hand on her shoulder as she moved by. "Stay. Private does not mean without you around." He paused and looked back at Erik. "It means without our minders listening in." She nodded and sat down quietly. "Erik," the general said, "there is something strange going on."

  Cain frowned. "What gave you that idea? That we can't go to the head without a spy from WashBalt tagging along?" His voice was sarcastic, of course, but also serious and concerned.

  Holm took a seat at the small table and motioned for Cain to sit as well. "It's more than just the political officers. I sent a message to General Samuels several days ago expressing my concern that the political officers have their own communication nets. It's an obvious security risk in an op. You know how tightly scrambled our communications are during a campaign. We have no idea about their networks...how they are secured, to whom they are connected."

  Cain nodded. "You know I agree, sir." He looked disgusted. "These guys are a whole world of problems. Just like the cops back in the MPZ. Whatever you're worried about, I guarantee the truth is ten times worse."

  Holm rubbed the back of his neck. It had been a long day. "I'm sure you are right, Erik, but that's not what's really bothering me. General Samuel's response was, well...strange. He didn't seem to see my point or have any real concern about the political officers. He dismissed my concerns rather abruptly. It almost felt like a reprimand for even bringing it up."

  Cain looked surprised. Elias Holm was the great hero of the Corps, the man who'd commanded in every major victory of the last five years. He couldn't imagine anyone disregarding the general's concerns. "You think there is a problem with General Samuels? Maybe his transmissions are being watched."

  "Or maybe someone is controlling him." Holm sounded uncomfortable even discussing such possibilities. "Could someone be exerting some type of influence over him in some way?"

  Cain's expression was icy, focused. "I wouldn't put anything past our friends in Alliance Gov, sir." He paused, not sure if he should say what he was thinking. "General, I would not be surprised if the government made some sort of attempt to exert more control over the Corps. It's not like them to be comfortable until they control everything."

  Holm looked troubled. He wasn't an overly trusting man, and he certainly wasn't naive, but he lacked Cain's deep cynicism. Erik Cain automatically assumed the worst, while Holm just allowed for it as a possibility. "Erik, the Charter has governed the relationship between the Corps and Alliance Gov for a century. Do you really think they want to destroy that now?"

  Cain hesitated again. This was a dangerous conversation. But he was alone with the two people he trusted most in all of human-occupied space. "Yes." He paused to emphasize the definitiveness of his answer. "I think they want us to win the war, certainly. But look around you when you leave here. Do you realize how large and powerful the
Corps has become? There were 280 of us on my first assault, from two small ships. The last time there were 45,000 of us. I think we've become too big for their comfort."

  "But the Corps has never given reason for concern." Holm was still trying to temper Cain's pessimistic view.

  "Sir..." Erik cleared his throat and shifted his weight in the seat. "These politicians...their minds work in a different way. The whole system was set up for them, to keep them in a position of power and privilege. And they see threats to that everywhere. It's not that they think the Corps is a threat; it's that they think it could become one."

  "As much as the Corps has grown," Holm replied, "it's not like we're capable of invading Earth and seizing power. We're still dependent on them for support, industry...almost everything."

  Cain's eyes narrowed. "An ambitious Marine commandant and a cooperative fleet admiral could set themselves up as rulers on the Rim. That's how the politicians see it. Because that is what they would do if they were able." He paused and looked right into Holm's eyes. "You and Admiral Garret could probably do it. Don't fool yourself...they think of you both as threats."

  Holm snorted. "That's crazy. I'm just a Marine, and I do my duty. I'd never do something like that. And neither would Garret."

  "I'm saying that's how they think, sir." Never say never, Erik thought as well, but that he kept to himself. "I spent six months alongside these people when you sent me back to Earth. Their sense of entitlement is something we can't even understand. They hate and fear anything that threatens their order." Cain waved his arm, motioning upward. "These colonies...have you ever seen anything on any of them that is even remotely similar to how the Cogs live on Earth? There is a different culture out here, and some of these politicians - the smart ones - are starting to realize they are not going to be able to push the colonists around as easily as they do the folks back Earthside. They're figuring they are going to have to stomp them eventually, and the last thing they want to worry about is which side the Corps is going to choose when that happens."