"That would definitely shake them up."
"Then do it," the emissary said. "We have wasted valuable time. I cannot see him clearly now. It could already be too late."
Chapter Forty
"Captain, I have a priority-one signal coming in from Fleet Command."
Captain Raoko Torenth pulled himself groggily out of his bed. He'd only been off duty for a few hours. "Live feed or recorded, Lieutenant?"
"Live, sir," Lieutenant Mathew Christian reported.
Torenth sighed. "Tell them to stand by. I'll take it in my office in five minutes, if that is agreeable with them." He stood and began getting dressed.
"Fleet Command reports that is acceptable, sir."
Torenth grunted acknowledgement and left for his office.
"Patch them through, Lieutenant," he said as he settled into his chair and activated his air screens.
"Coming through now, sir."
"Raoko," Admiral Shadovsky greeted him a moment later. "I know it's early there, and I'm sorry. It seems that we have a bit of an emergency, though." The video link had that flat look of entangled-pair communications. Full holographic took up too much bandwidth to be practical for quantum communications.
"Isn't there always?" Torenth was curious why it was Admiral Shadovsky on the link. "Since you're calling me instead of Admiral Macklin, I'll assume we haven't been invaded."
"Not yet," Mandor said dryly. "This is a bit more esoteric. Is your security up?"
Torenth hit the command sequence on his other screen. "It is now. What's this all about?"
"Well, Raoko, it began this afternoon when the Rhyrhan ambassador showed up at my office with a very special guest..."
Calvin Smith gripped the sides of his acceleration couch as the assault shuttle plunged into the atmosphere at a steep angle. The tenuous air took hold of the shuttle and shook it the way a dog does a rabbit.
Smith grinned to himself then. He hadn't thought about dogs or rabbits in the years since he had left his homeworld of New Kenton. Still, he thought, his grin fading, it isn't the best analogy I could've come up with. The rabbit usually doesn't fare too well, and we are definitely the rabbits here.
He glanced over at Tebrey, but he seemed calm. Of course, it was hard to tell when he couldn't see Tebrey's face. Smith suspected that Tebrey probably was calm. He'd certainly faced worse danger than this drop.
The neo-panther was strapped to the deck plates near the assault ramp. The animal seemed oddly incongruous wearing a space suit similar to Smith's own. He knew, intellectually, that the neo-panther was as smart as a human, but it was easy to forget.
Smith noticed Hunter looking at him, and blushed. He'd also forgotten that neo-panthers were telepaths. He did wonder what it must be like to be a neo-panther, never able to speak with anyone except their human companion. It must be lonely.
Smith steadied himself by studying his displays. The northern enemy base was just coming up on sensors, and it was huge. He was suddenly filled with doubts that they would be able to pull off the assault. Judging by the size of the base, it could easily have a hundred thousand personnel there, or even more.
Smith had fewer than two hundred marines... and one Special Operations team.
The Federation assault shuttles screamed through the thin atmosphere at twenty times the speed of sound, and the sonic booms washed across the ravaged landscape of Vesuvius. The automated point defense batteries of the Empire base flung hundreds of thousands of primitive but effective projectiles into their paths, trying to knock the shuttles out of the sky before they could disgorge their troops.
The shuttles raced through the storm of metal to land as quickly as they could. As Smith and Tebrey's shuttle landed, another crashed nearby with a stunning explosion. Pieces of the wreckage decapitated a marine from Smith's shuttle just as the man stepped out of the door, and Smith slipped on the suddenly blood-slicked ramp.
He found himself dangling by his pack harness. Tebrey had caught before he could fall. Tebrey placed him on his feet next to the ramp. The other marines leapt down the ramp past them.
"Thanks!" Smith shouted.
The marines aboard those shuttles knew they had to get groundside as fast as possible, and they sprinted into the copious cover of the dark volcanic rock around the base. One hundred fifty of the one hundred eighty marines who had left the Centaur made it to the ground. Eighteen marines in heavy assault battlesuits, almost the entire armored squad, survived the trip. Smith ordered them to fan along the ridge to provide cover fire.
As soon as the troops were completely groundside, the shuttles rose up and raced across the base, unleashing hell with twin wing-mounted, six-centimeter laser cannon and plasma cluster bombs. Continuous strobing flashes of plasma detonations lit the base. The concussive shockwaves from the explosions were stunning even through Smith's armored spacesuit.
The Empire ground troops were secure behind the perimeter of the base, although the fire from the shuttles took its toll. The enemy troops laid down heavy fire with laser rifles and caseless ten-millimeter carbines. The few men with heavier weapons found themselves the primary targets of the Federation assault shuttles, and the most dangerous fire tapered off quickly.
The Federation marines advanced slowly, grinding down the enemy with witheringly accurate fire from their plasma rifles. A Federation marine might be able to take four or five hits from a laser rifle or caseless round before going down. The lighter armored enemy troops went down screaming each time they were hit. It didn't matter where they were hit, either; the plasma would punch through their suits and then flow over them like water, cooking them alive. A man rose up in front of him, and Smith shot him in the throat; Smith had to look away as the plasma filled the man's helmet and glowed through his faceplate, showing all too clearly what the plasma did to unprotected flesh.
The armored platoon took up their fixed firing positions and began laying down suppression fire with the heavier pulse-plasma cannon their suits carried. As soon as the enemy fire began to taper off, Smith ordered a general advance. They had to keep the initiative and not allow the enemy to realize how few of them there actually were.
Smith sometimes caught a glimpse of Tebrey and Hunter as they moved as one through that hell. Their telepathic mindlink gave them a unique advantage. They each knew instantly what the other did; they coordinated attacks with a precision that no one else in that battle could ever have matched.
Normal radio communications had been hashed by the atmospheric ionization caused by the forty-five fusion bombs the Centaur had launched into the planet earlier. It was further hampered by the near-constant plasma blasts, and the Empire troops were correspondingly disorganized.
The Federation troops were all using multi-frequency encrypted communications at wavelengths designed to cut through such interference, and thus could coordinate attacks almost as efficiently as the commando team.
I hope it will be enough, Smith thought. The shuttles had veered off to avoid being destroyed, and Smith could see thousands of enemy troops massing in the base.
Tebrey and Hunter leapt over the monomolecular-edged razor-wire fence, and Tebrey was struck with a sense of deja vu. The blackened rock of Vesuvius was nothing like the ice and snow of Serendipity, but here he was, entering an Empire base again with almost no direct support.
Most of the Empire personnel were now a kilometer to the north, fighting the marines who were providing a distraction so that Tebrey could get into the base unnoticed. The few personnel he ran into died far too quickly to be a real threat. It would have taken heavy weapons to get through his armor anyway. He wasn't going to stand still and let that happen.
Central operations should just be a kilometer to the east, Tebrey thought. We get in. We get the information, and we –
– Kill anything that gets in our way, Hunter finished. I got it. You just be ready to hack their systems.
The cryptography suite is online and already at work, Tebrey replied. Their data-net is primitive; they're s
till using binary code, for god's sake! It's only 1024-bit encryption. I'm having some trouble from the ionization, but I should be in by the time we reach operations.
"Tebrey?" Smith called out over the com. "I've just been in contact with the Centaur, and they got their prim-" His voice was drowned out by an intense keening as twin beams of blinding light two meters wide slashed down out of the clouds and swept across the line of Empire troops.
The primary laser cannon on the Centaur were designed to damage sensors and defensive weapons on starships at a range of two hundred thousand kilometers or more. The Centaur was only one thousand kilometers above the planet in a low orbit. The beams vaporized men, machines, and even the planetary bedrock, gouging deep fissures that flowed with glowing molten rock.
The thunderclap was deafening even through powered armor. He felt the rumbling in his bones. Tebrey smiled grimly at the carnage. It was unlikely that any Empire troops would be able to bring themselves to stand and fight in the face of that. Ten thousand or more had died in the first few seconds. The rest would be running for the far side of the base by now.
"Acknowledged, Smith. That should take some of the heat off you."
"It certainly does. How is your end?"
"I'm nearing central operations now. I'll be on my way back out in less than five minutes with the data."
"Roger that. I'm gathering my wounded and ordering my men back to the shuttles. The Centaur seems to have demoralized our friends from the Empire. I don't think they don't want to play anymore."
"Imagine that," Tebrey said dryly. "Hold one of those shuttles for me, okay?"
Chapter Forty-One
Admiral Meleeka looked up, startled, as the door to her office was forced open.
Two armed security personnel filed in – wearing powered armor, no less – followed by Admiral Kazakov. Meleeka could see the admiral's new aide in the outer office along with more security. Her aide was on his knees out there, hands behind his head, a badly bleeding cut on his forehead.
"I assume you will explain yourself, Admiral," she said coldly.
"We know all about your little planned coup," Kazakov said, his tone smug. "You are hereby under arrest for conspiring against the Earth Federation."
"Really?" Meleeka couldn't quite bring herself to feel anything for what she was about to do. She 'd known for weeks that it was coming. She had made her peace with herself and recorded and transmitted goodbyes to her few loved ones. "You're one to talk about conspiracies, Pyotr."
He motioned the two guards outside. Kazakov’s unnamed aide stood in the doorway, gloating. "I admit to being curious about what you think you know," said Kazakov.
"I know enough not to allow you to take me alive," Meleeka said.
"Come now, Kasimira. You don't think we would harm you do you? Due process and all that," he said. "Come along peaceably, now."
Meleeka laughed. "Given the nature of your new friends, you'll have to forgive me for being just a little cynical in that regard."
Kazakov showed her a dark smile. "You have no idea what it is like, Kasimira, the unlimited power. To be able to do anything you wish, with no consequences. I'll have eternal life!"
"You really think they'll give you all that? Allow you to become a threat to them in your own right?"
"You don't understand."
"You're right," she said passionately. "I don't understand. I never will. I don't want to understand. I'm just sorry it had to end like this."
"Oh, it isn't over yet," Kazakov said, licking his lips. He eyed her like a spider eyes a fly stuck in its web. "What my new friends can do to a person before they allow that person to die has to be seen to be believed. Of course, you'll hardly be in a position to appreciate it. I can tell you from personal experience, though, it will be delicious."
"I'm afraid not, Pyotr." They thought she was a harmless fly, but she was killer bee.
"You will be afraid, believe me."
"No," Meleeka answered firmly. "I really won't. Not now or ever. That's something cowards like you will never understand. Goodbye, Pyotr."
She detonated the nuke.
The Arcadia rematerialized from its Marcos jump just outside five light-minutes from Vesuvius. The hydrogen wake was more pronounced than usual, and the ship looked worn, ravaged by the stresses it had been through.
"Scan the system please, Chief," said Captain Torenth. He'd pushed the Arcadia into the fifth layer of hyperspace to reach the planet in time. That was higher than the ship had been designed for. It was higher than he ever dared to go before in any ship. The ride had been extremely uncomfortable and nerve-wracking. His engineer had been begging him not to push the ship so hard. Most ships that had attempted the fifth layer never came back out. Hyperspace was filled with gravitational eddies and streamers of raw energy. The higher a ship was pushed, the more resistance it encountered. The fifth layer of hyperspace had been like trying to fly a ship through a thick atmosphere at relativistic speeds: not really a good idea. The journey had taken its toll on Torenth's ship. He hoped it hadn't been for nothing.
"There is wreckage in orbit around Vesuvius, Captain – a lot of wreckage. I'm getting energy readings from some of it. We'll have to move closer for life signs. Wait." Chief Petty Officer Keanan Bharati checked with his crew. "We've got the Centaur, sir! She looks pretty battered, but amazingly, she's still under power."
"Weapons fire!" one of the gunnery ratings exclaimed.
"Confirmed, Captain," said Bharati. "It looks like they're firing a single laser turret at a ground target. No missile launches detected."
"If they're still fighting, then we may be in time," Torenth said. "Helm, take us there under full power."
"Aye, sir, accelerating at thirty thousand KPS to zero-point-four light-speed in twenty seconds."
Everyone on the ship was already in their acceleration couches with the harnesses down, since the Arcadia had come out of transit at full battle readiness. The acceleration alarm blared briefly, and then the Arcadia darted into the system toward Vesuvius; under full power, it would take just under six minutes to reach orbit.
"Sir! Sensors just detected a ship coming in from the hyperlimit!"
Captain Singh's head jerked around like he'd been slapped. If that was an enemy ship, they were all dead. "Engineering, what is the status on those missile tubes?"
"We're still re-laying cables, Captain. I could have two tubes up for you in about ten minutes," said Lt. Commander Maria Johnson; she sounded exhausted. "But the drive is a no-go, and we still don't have any defensive fire capability. We've been concentrating on the primary lasers, as you requested. My people are doing the best they can, sir."
"You're going to have to do better. We need missiles and defenses ten minutes ago. We've got a ship coming in."
"I'll do what I can, Captain," Johnson said in the same long-suffering tone engineers had used for a thousand years when asked to do the impossible.
Singh tensely watched his screens, waiting for the unknown ship to launch missiles and destroy the Centaur.
"Sir," Lieutenant Mitchell said, "I've got a faint ship-to-ship signal. I think it's from that other ship."
"Let me hear it, Lieutenant."
"FSS Centaur, this is the CSS Arcadia. Do you require assistance?"
There was an almost explosive exhalation of breaths on the bridge as the crew realized the other ship was friendly. Someone cheered.
"Arcadia, this is Captain Singh on the Centaur. We're damn glad to hear from you. We've had a rough time of it here."
"So I see, Captain. I can hardly believe you're still with us. We are operating under urgent orders. May I ask if Lt. Commander Tebrey has survived the battle?"
"He's on the surface with the ground troops. Why?"
"Damn it! I'd hoped to be in time to stop the assault. Can you patch me through to your commander on the ground?"
"Not without an explanation, Captain," Singh said. "But I would really like to take you up on your offer of assist
ance. We have a lot of wounded people over here, many of them in critical condition."
"We'll send over medical teams as soon as we achieve orbit. It is vital that we get Lt. Commander Tebrey off that planet. I don't have time to explain."
"Our shuttles are returning even as we speak, Captain." Singh glanced at Lieutenant Mitchell, who nodded. "Lt. Commander Tebrey is on the last shuttle."
"You're sure he has lifted off?"
Singh checked again. "Yes. Now, are you going to tell me what is going on?"
"I'd rather wait and talk to you in person, Captain. There are some things that shouldn't be discussed over an open channel."
"About that, Captain." Singh paused. "We're in bad shape over here. I'm afraid the Centaur is never going to leave orbit."
"I'll send over shuttles to evacuate your people. You're welcome aboard."
"I'd appreciate that. Also, the Hrimfaxi has surrendered, so it would be bad form if you destroyed her."
"There are people alive in that… hulk?"
"Apparently."
"I'll send over shuttles just as soon as we have your people aboard."
"Sounds good. We'll be waiting." Singh signed off. "Santiago?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Order all hands to prepare to abandon ship."
Chapter Forty-Two
Captain Torenth felt that the situation was spiraling out of control. He hadn't managed to achieve any of his mission objectives. He'd been ordered to stop Lt. Commander Tebrey from going to Vesuvius. He'd failed. What he needed to do at this point was unclear. He'd gotten mixed signals from the admiral. On the one hand, he needed to keep Tebrey alive – rescue him from the planet, fight a battle, anything. On the other hand, he'd been told that if rescue wasn't an option, he had to make sure the man was dead. Even if that meant starting a war with the Federation.
He'd never expected his job to be easy, but this was ridiculous.
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