“We're allies,” the woman said.
“Then act like it,” he replied.
Moretti looked at her, and said, “Don't be a fool, Madeline. We'd all be dead if it wasn't for Lieutenant Cooper, and he's the only one here with any military training. Either we follow his commands, or we let the Xandari win.” Turning to the prisoner, he added, “Besides, the ammunition stores are low. I don't think we can justify wasting a bullet on this traitor.”
“Then...”
“Leave it, Maddie,” he said, turning to Cooper. “I'll watch the man myself, sir. He was one of my people, or so I thought.”
“Very well, Sergeant, but what I said to Corporal Walpis still stands. He is not to come to any harm, or I will hold you personally responsible. I trust I make myself comprehensively clear?”
“You do, sir.”
“Then please, take this bastard out of my sight.”
With a nod, Moretti and Walpis escorted the prisoner away, to the stockade they had built on the fringes of the camp to house their few prisoners-of-war, a dejected group of captives who knew that most of those around then wished them dead, that they lived only as long as Cooper remained in control.
Looking around the rest of the camp, Cooper sighed as the crowd began to disperse. More than two hundred people were living here now, in the heart of the forest, in a collection of tents and rough-built huts, scattered along the banks of a fast-flowing stream. He was certain that the Xandari knew where they were, and that they could be attacked at any time, but wiping out this base wouldn't end the resistance. Here there was some safety, while the Xandari watched them, knowing that if they attacked this camp, Cooper would simply lead the survivors elsewhere.
Bradley watched as the prisoner was thrown roughly into the stockade, flying face-first into a puddle of thick, viscous mud, and shook her head. Walpis took up position outside the door, the refugees glaring at him the whole time.
“I don't like this, Gabe, I don't like this at all.” Glancing up at him, she continued, “If anything happened to you, this little army would fall apart in a day, and most of the people here would die very quickly. You've got to be more careful, and we've got to do something better about screening.” Nodding at the crowd, she added, “There could be a dozen Xandari agents out there, waiting for their chance to strike.”
“All true,” he replied, “but the reality is that there is nothing we can do about it. We're reaching the limits of our strength, and unless we can do something about the drones, we're stuck out here. If we could get a couple of squads out towards the city, we might be able to do a lot more, hit some of the perimeter bases and get some real equipment.” Shaking his head, he continued, “As it stands, about all we can do is wait here in the wilderness for someone to come riding to the rescue.”
“Commodore Marshall?”
“I don't know,” he replied. “Sooner or later he's bound to turn up. What worries me is that he might simply try a repeat of our mission, send out another battlecruiser on her own to scout ahead. Thermopylae, perhaps, or Gilgamesh. There's a real risk that we might end up worse than we started.”
“He won't just throw ships away,” Bradley replied.
“Assuming he's still in command,” Cooper said, shaking his head. “We've been gone for almost a year. Anything might have happened back there. For all we know, the United Nations or the Cabal have started to stir up trouble again. Things were quiet when we left, but that's not going to last forever.”
“Then what's the alternative?” she asked.
“I only wish I had one. The strategic situation hasn't changed. We can't launch a major attack down here on the surface unless we can steal control of the high ground. Short of an attack on the Xandari forces up in orbit, there's damn all we can do. Until that happens, our only choice is to husband our strength, gather our forces, and wait for a better day.”
“That isn't going to work either,” Bradley said, looking around at the refugee settlement. “These people aren't going to be patient, and they're not going to wait for a better opportunity to strike because of the tactical situation. One of two things is going to happen. Either they'll take action by themselves, which will probably wipe us out, or they'll suggest surrendering on terms to the Xandari.”
Nodding, Cooper replied, “I don't disagree with you, but I don't see what our options are. I'd love to launch a major strike, hit some important target, but while those drones are watching our every move, I don't see how to pull it off, not without taking major casualties.” He paused, then added, “Not that there aren't a lot of places I'd like to have a crack at.”
“We should hit the drone control station,” a new voice said, Lieutenant Cantrell walking into the compound, heading towards them. “A picked squad, five people, might be able to sneak in and take the place down before anyone could spot them.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Bradley asked. “You wouldn't get a mile before the Xandari spotted you, and they'd have plenty of time to decide whether to try and capture you or simply kill you where you stood.”
“Not if we moved quickly, and not if we arranged some distractions,” Cantrell pressed. “We can't just sit around here doing nothing.”
“Nor can we throw away half a dozen lives for nothing,” Cooper replied. “Damn it, Lise, there's nothing I'd like more than to hit that site, but it's right in the middle of the city. You're talking about a hundred miles, four days walk just to reach it, and a one-way trip at best.”
“The Underground,” Cantrell began, but Cooper shook his head.
“They're got a lot of good people, but none of them qualified for a mission of this sort. Unless they can rustle up someone with real training, hitting that base is out of the question,” Bradley said.
“We're about due our daily contact,” Cooper replied. “I'll have a word with them about it.”
“Sir,” McBride said, a smile on his face, holding their sole covert communicator. “I have someone to speak to you.”
“Father Donegan?” Cooper asked.
“Captain Orlova.”
“What?” Cooper snatched the communicator, and said, “Captain, is that you?”
“Loud and clear, Gabe, and I'm very pleased to speak to you.”
“Voice-print check,” Cooper said, turning to Cantrell. “On the double.”
“Way ahead of you,” she replied, holding up her datapad. “Get her talking for a moment, and I'll let you know when I've got enough data.”
“Captain, what's the weather like where you are?”
“Cloud-cover's pretty thick, and I think there's a good chance that we're going to get some rain later, and if we're going to waste time for a voice-print analysis, I might at least start to brief you on the current situation. You might be nice and safe out there in your woodland haven, but the Xandari will be triangulating this call right now.”
“It's her,” Cantrell asked.
“I could have told you that without the datapad,” Bradley said.
“What's the situation, Captain?” Cooper asked.
“The Underground managed to get me out of prison,” she replied, “along with General Kelot, but I'm afraid I don't know anything more about the state of the rest of the crew than you. They've had me in solitary confinement since we were taken. Never mind about me, and, for the present, never mind about you. Just in case I get captured, I don't want to know any specifics about your force.”
“Understood, Captain. Is there any help on the way?”
“Not that I know, Lieutenant. I'm afraid we're going to have to work out our own salvation, and that means organizing a mass uprising.”
Cantrell looked smugly at him, and Cooper replied, “We've been over all of that, Captain, and it comes down to the same problem. The Xandari have the high ground, and without regaining control of orbital space, I don't see how we could make any uprising sti
ck. Ultimately, if we did push them off, they'd wipe out Kepler City rather than let it fall back into our hands.”
“This planet held out for months with the Xandari holding orbital space. With a Triplanetary fleet on the way, they might just cash in and leave the planet, pull back to their own territory rather than risk a costly assault.” She paused, then added, “Do you have the forces to pull off an attack on the city? If we provide support from here?”
Looking around at the refugees, watching them train with their captured weapons, he said, “Possibly, though as it stands, I can't use a tenth of my potential strength. While those damned drones are in position, we're stuck in the forest.”
“Let me worry about the drones. You get things moving on your end. I'll let you know when we are ready to move. Watch the sky, Cooper. Orlova out.”
“There we go,” Cantrell said. “I'll get...”
“You won't do a damned thing,” Cooper replied. “That might have been the Captain's voice-print, but we don't know whether she's speaking for herself or someone else.”
“She'd never turn traitor,” Cantrell snapped.
“No, but she might not have been given the choice,” Bradley replied, shaking her head. “We don't know what the Xandari are capable of, but we know that they don't exactly play nicely. It's possible they've found some way of chemically suborning her, or there might be something we don't know about going on.” Nodding, she added, “I'm with you, Gabe. We can't take the risk that this might be a trick.”
“Cooper, as far as I can see you have been given a direct order from your commanding officer,” Cantrell replied, “and you are refusing to obey it. I'm telling you, that voice was hers, and the manner in which she acted suggests that she is under her own control, not that of the Xandari.”
“Lieutenant, I am in command here. Not you.” Shaking his head, he said, “You might be right. I certainly hope you are. I'd like nothing better than to see all of those lights in the sky wink out, for us to be able to move forces into position for a strike on the capital, to wipe the Xandari off the face of the planet. But I simply don't dare take the risk. There are too many lives at stake, and more than that.” He looked at the camp again, and said, “Three months to gather this force, to get these people together, to assemble at least the beginnings of an army. I'm not going to throw all of that away because of your impatience, Lieutenant, so you might as well forget about it right now!”
“Then we're just going to sit here and do nothing,” she replied, shaking her head.
“Hardly,” he replied. “Barbara, I'm going to leave you in command of the camp. If you see the drones drop, then you will proceed at speed to the staging areas we've discussed. Make sure the company commanders are properly briefed.” Turning to Cantrell, he continued, “We're heading to the perimeter of the forest. If there is a window of opportunity, then I'm going to make sure that we take full advantage of it.”
“What are you going to do?” a worried Bradley asked.
“We've got one rifle for every three people, and only one and a half clips per rifle on average. We're worse on everything else we're going to need to make this force into a real army.” With a smile on his face, he added, “Fortunately, I'm certain that the Xandari will provide us with everything we need.”
“You're going to hit one of their bases,” Bradley said, shaking her head.
“That's the Gabriel Cooper I remember,” Cantrell replied. “I'm with you, Gabe.”
“Damn right you are,” he said. “Get the strike team ready. We move out in twenty minutes.”
Nodding, she walked away, and Bradley said, “Another crazy stunt?”
“They do seem to be my specialty,” he replied, a smile on his face.
Chapter 7
“The ship is cleared for action, Captain,” Scott said, turning from the tactical station. “Emergence in one minute, ten seconds. Missiles are in the tubes, all systems green.”
“Thanks, Kat,” Harper replied, running her own eyes over the status boards, checking for herself that all was as it should be. It wasn't that she didn't trust her second-in-command, that wasn't an issue, but more and more she felt she had to double-check everything personally. In a few seconds, they'd be in combat, and if something went wrong here, the whole mission would fail.
“Thirty seconds,” Midshipman Armstrong said, turning from the helm.
“You have the call,” Harper replied.
“Aye, ma'am,” she replied. “I have the call.”
Still a Midshipman, even after all of this, Harper thought, shaking her head. She'd have to do something about that, once the fighting was over. Armstrong was a Mustang, promoted from the ranks by Captain Orlova to help fill in for the casualties Alamo had suffered, but she'd easily transitioned from flying shuttles to flying starships, a cool and cautious pilot.
She looked around the bridge, from one console to another. Arkhipov at the sensors, Ingram at the communications station, Fitzroy running the damage control console. All of them had been thrown together as a prize crew, five months ago, when they'd first recaptured Daedalus from the Xandari. Since then they'd become seasoned veterans.
Five months, she mused. It seemed unreal, and her time back on Alamo was beginning to fade into the distance. Almost it felt as though she had been commanding a ship for years, that she had been serving here all of her life. She rubbed the arm of her command chair, shaking her head. If it was always like this, it would be easy. Still, she doubted that she would ever be truly comfortable in the seat, and if Orlova, Nelyubov or anyone else senior walked through the door, she'd turn over command without a second thought.
As the seconds counted down, she thought about Orlova, wondering what was happening back on Copernicus, captured with the rest of the crew. If this mission was a success, if somehow they managed to pull off a victory that seemed ever more improbable the more she thought about it, they'd be free, ready to return to the Confederation in triumph.
“Ten seconds, Captain,” Armstrong said.
She leaned forward, watching the seconds tick away, and with a blinding blue flash the stars reappeared on the screen, arranged in unfamiliar positions, a swirling gas giant hovering at the top, tendrils of purple and green curling around each other. The tactical view snapped on, and she immediately saw their goal, just as she'd hoped. A fueling station, hovering in low orbit over the planet, with a transport hovering next to it. A Xandari transport.
“Damn it,” Molpa said, shaking his head. “That's one of ours. Coalition.”
“That's going to make this easier,” Harper replied.
“No sign of other starships,” Arkhipov reported. “Just one ship in the system. She's lighting engines, making for the hendecaspace point.”
“Intercept course, Midshipman,” Harper ordered, and Daedalus surged forward towards their target, weapons at the ready. She rose to her feet, turning back to the sensor display, looking at the readout for herself, the technician gesturing at the cluster of ships on the screen. The station was just sitting there, her crew making no moves, simply waiting for their destruction.
Two more flashes appeared on the screen, the Koltoc ships arriving ten seconds behind Daedalus, immediately moving to their positions in the formation. Harper turned to Ingram, who shook his head.
“No response from either the ship or the station, Captain, not on any channel.”
“Maintain trajectory,” she replied. “Don't fire unless you have to. We need that ship intact.” Turning to Molpa, she continued, “Kat, you've got the bridge. I'll be back in a minute.”
“Aye, ma'am,” Scott said, not moving her eyes from the tactical display. “I have the bridge.”
Pausing at the communications station, she ordered, “Ingram, start checking for an interface.”
“Aye,” the technician replied, turning back to his console with renewed energy.
Molpa stepped into the corridor first, struggling in the acceleration-crafted gravity, Harper following him down to the shuttle lock. Daedalus was too small for a real hangar bay, smaller even than Random Walk, and contented itself with a series of docking ports along the upper hull. As she walked, a technician passed her, snapping a salute, and she returned it without thinking, the act now second-nature to her.
In the corridor outside the shuttle, a dozen crewmen gathered. The remnants of Alamo's Espatier contingent, at least those Salazar hadn't taken with him, and volunteers from the Free Peoples, ready to fight on against the Xandari. All of them were equipped correctly, combat armor and rifles, but few of them had the edge that Cooper's troops had. They were too eager for the fight, and that was going to get a lot of them killed unless they were very, very lucky.
“You've got the drill down, Major?” she asked.
“We'll do our part, Captain. Clear the way, and we'll do the job. All the way to Copernicus.”
She nodded, turned to the squad, and said, “Good luck, and good hunting.”
“Thank you,” he replied, saluting her before turning to the airlock, leading the group into the shuttle. They all knew that there was no possibility of rescue if this mission went wrong. The debacle at Copernicus had cost Daedalus all but a single shuttle, and if they lost it, there was no way to retrieve the boarding party.
Even if it was a success, the danger was only beginning. Molpa would be commanding a skeleton crew to Copernicus, giving the theoretical resistance a chance to prepare for the attack to come. Five picked crewmen, all of them from the Free Peoples, knowing that the odds of survival were minimal at best, and they hadn't hesitated, not for a second.
Battlecruiser Alamo: Pyrrhic Victory Page 6