Cry of War: A Military Space Adventure Series

Home > Fantasy > Cry of War: A Military Space Adventure Series > Page 31
Cry of War: A Military Space Adventure Series Page 31

by R. L. Giddings


  “Budge up,” he said before sliding in next to Schwartz, the medic stepping back to let him in.

  When it became obvious that he was having problems with his left hand, Schwartz took the tablet off him and did it herself. At first, it wasn’t clear what they were looking at, but then Schwartz caught sight of an arabesque design and she started shrinking the image until they were looking at a back wall. A further adjustment and they found themselves looking at the bridge of a starship.

  “That’s a Yakutian vessel,” she said.

  And so, it proved.

  A junior Yakutian officer, recognisable as such from the augmentations around his ear, stepped into view and started adjusting the camera.

  Then he disappeared to be replaced, a few seconds later, by a more senior officer.

  There was something about him that Schwartz recognised but, for the life of her, she couldn’t think of his name.

  Faulkner had no such problems.

  “Commander Sunderam,” he said, shifting effortlessly into full diplomatic mode. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

  “The pleasure is all mine. Although it’s Captain Sunderam now.”

  “My apologies, captain. You’ll have to forgive me, we seem to be having some trouble with our comms array.”

  “From what I’m seeing, captain, I’m surprised to see that you’re still in one piece.”

  “So, what’s happened to Captain Mahbarat? I was looking forward to crossing swords with him again in the future. Has he been promoted?”

  Schwartz doubted that very much.

  “Captain Mahbarat met with a rather unfortunate accident.”

  “It can happen to the best of us.”

  “Unfortunately, his proved fatal.”

  “Well, that is unfortunate. Please pass on my condolences to his family.”

  “I will be happy to do so, captain,” Sunderam said, before coming to attention, now that the social niceties were out of the way. “Captain Faulkner, I’m picking up a radiation spike from your ship. Quite a distinct one, if I’m not mistaken. I trust that everything’s under control?”

  Faulkner batted the inquiry away, “All in hand, captain. All in hand.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t like anything to happen to you at this stage. I can see that you’ve engaged the enemy ship. Was that wise considering the state of your ship?”

  “It might not be the smartest thing I’ve ever done but I felt it was prudent under the circumstances.”

  “You suspect that they intend to de-stabilise the Henrietta Gate?”

  Faulkner looked across at Schwartz before turning his attention back to the screen.

  “I have reason to believe that Thor has an anti-matter bomb on board.”

  Schwartz felt the crew flinch at that. The research into anti-matter as a cost-effective fuel had been abandoned once the first gate had been established so everyone onboard knew how incredibly destructive a bomb using those self-same materials could be.

  “She’s not looking to merely de-stabilise the gate,” Faulkner went on. “She’s looking to destroy it. Completely.”

  “You’re sure of this?”

  “It’s something I’ve suspected for some time, but now we have proof,” he gave an apologetic look to Schwartz. “Admiral Winterson’s people discovered one aboard one of the other Da’al ships. And, if they were in possession of one, it’s reasonable to assume that this ship has one as well.”

  Sunderam considered this new intelligence. “I take it you have proof of this anti-matter bomb?”

  “I do indeed. Would you like to see it?”

  Schwartz caught her breath at that. Sharing intelligence with another power, particularly one they were currently at war with, would prove fatal for Faulkner’s career. It would, at the very least, see him stripped of his commission.

  But this was a high stakes game they were playing here and the first person who blinked would lose.

  Sunderam took a moment to consider the offer.

  Then shook his head.

  “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. But, in that case, this makes my decision all the easier. Captain Faulkner, is there any chance that we could speak in private?”

  *

  Renheim had begun her deceleration ten minutes ago but it was only now that they could see Thor starting to pull away. As she watched it start to slip away, Schwartz felt a real sense of relief flood over her. They say that its only after combat that the fear starts to kick in. As the realisation of what might have happened starts to take hold. And that seemed to be true for her now. Her heart was racing so much that when she checked her pulse rate she saw that it was through the roof.

  She didn’t know what the two captains were discussing but she couldn’t see any reason why the Serrayu couldn’t step up to the plate as far as Thor was concerned. He’d said as much when he’d commented on their damaged state. He might be new to all this but it didn’t take a genius to recognise the poor state they were in.

  And perhaps this was what Winterson had meant when he’d said that reinforcements were on their way. The fact that they’d all thought he was talking about Confederation ships was neither here nor there. Certainly, it would make no difference to the Da’al who they were facing. A warship is still a warship at the end of the day, regardless of whose flag it’s flying.

  Schwartz had to skirt around the gaping hole in the middle of the bridge. A group of firefighters had arrived and were in the process of making the area secure while the three crewmembers who’d been killed, including Whaites, were being taken off to the mortuary.

  She thought about Caroline, Whaites’ partner back on Lincoln. She was a similar age to Katherine and she and Stephen had gone out for drinks with them on more than one occasion. She’d liked Caroline a great deal. The last time they’d been together they’d spent a lot of time talking about starting a family.

  The weird thing was that Schwartz would have been pregnant at the time. She just hadn’t known it then.

  A couple of the firecrew came through, carrying a large section of flooring and she had to step back to let them through. That simple action was enough to break her chain of thought, and she was glad of the distraction. It didn’t do to dwell on such things. There was still an awful lot for them to be getting on with.

  There was an odd atmosphere about the place which she was keen to displace. Where, previously, the crew had all been united in their attack on Thor, it seemed now that everyone was on edge, distracted by the chaos and turmoil which surrounded them.

  Part of this distraction might also have had to do with the arrival of the Yakutian ship. Despite everything else, there was no denying that there was a real sense of anti-climax coming off that last engagement. They’d suffered terribly at the hands of the Da’al, lost some good people and she couldn’t pretend that there wasn’t a big part of her that didn’t want some payback. And, no doubt, that feeling was being reflected on by a large number of the crew, though needless that feeling would start to wain once the adrenalin had started to wear off.

  No doubt there would be some of them who’d be jealous that it would be the Yakutians who would claim the final victory but she wouldn’t be one of them. She’d be happy to play whatever auxiliary role was required of them before they limped back to port to start the long process of repairs.

  “Lieutenant Commander Schwartz?”

  A petty officer she didn’t recognise came to attention as she turned.

  “Yes, PO, what is it?”

  “The captain requests your presence in the briefing room.”

  She looked at the man askance.

  Requests your presence? Briefing room?

  What the hell was going on?

  *

  Faulkner was sitting at the briefing table with a pot of coffee.

  He looked tired and drawn.

  He indicated for her to sit while he poured her a cup. He passed it over to her and she took it gratefully, wrapping her hands around it. She’d got
cold standing on the bridge and the coffee helped to warm her.

  “I’m afraid I’ve got a favor to ask.”

  She didn’t say anything. Just took a sip of her coffee.

  “With the way things are at the minute, I’m going to need your assistance.”

  “What is it, sir?”

  “In Lieutenant Whaites’ absence, I find myself badly in need of a new Tactical Officer.”

  Her stomach lurched though she managed to give him a grim smile. The one all XOs had to master when they knew they were being offered a choice which featured only one alternative.

  “And you’d like me to stand-in?”

  Faulkner at least had the courtesy to look uncomfortable.

  “For the time being, at least.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  SOP would dictate that such a role would be filled by a junior officer. But that was assuming that everything was in a state of calm. For an XO to be asked to fill such a role suggested that they still had skin in this particular game.

  That she’d been wrong earlier. That this wasn’t the last they’d see of Thor.

  But for him to be approaching her in this way there was this clear sense that he was desperate and that was never a good look for a captain.

  No wonder he’d wanted to speak with her in private.

  “Aren’t you going to ask what I discussed with the Yakutians?”

  “I’m sure you’ll let me know as and when it’s appropriate, sir.”

  That was a sideswipe regarding him keeping her ignorant about the anti-matter bomb. Whatever his reasons might have been for keeping it to himself, she took it as a personal slight. No doubt he’d been trying to protect her. Protect all of them, in fact. But that didn’t cut it when you were dealing with something so powerful that, in ending your enemy, you were guaranteeing you’d be ending yourself.

  Faulkner poured himself a cup but didn’t touch it.

  “I guess I deserved that.”

  “Sir, you have your orders and I have mine. We’re all just trying to do our best in a difficult situation.”

  “I appreciate that, Katherine. The thing is that the Serrayu needs our assistance. They’re still a long way out and they need our help to cause a distraction.”

  “What kind of a distraction?”

  “I told him of our success with the Loki, although, a lot of it he already knew.”

  “You plan to engage Thor, I take it?”

  Faulkner turned his cup around, angling the handle towards him.

  He kept his eyes on the cup as he said, “That’s about the top and bottom of it.”

  Schwartz stared straight ahead as her anger started to build.

  “In that case, can I just remind you of how depleted our armoury currently is. At last count we only had …”

  “Fifty-nine missiles. That’s right, I’ve just been going over the numbers myself.”

  “That’s barely enough to launch a couple of decent salvoes, sir,” she said. “Much less stop a battle cruiser in her tracks.”

  Faulkner rubbed at his chin. They’d been at this for so long now that he had stubble coming through. Grey stubble.

  She was reminded of her grandfather. He’d suffered from Alzheimer’s. The last few times she’d visited, he hadn’t recognised her. That still hurt now. It shouldn’t, but it did.

  “You’re absolutely right, of course. Which is why I have no intentions of using them.”

  She sat across from him, open mouthed, not knowing whether he was joking or not. But then she remembered what he’d told the Yakutian captain.

  “Sir, you’re not seriously considering using the same tactics you used against the Loki, are you? I mean, just in terms of the damage we sustained.”

  “You can relax on that count, Katherine. Trust me, I have no intention of going through that again.”

  “But you told Captain Sunderam …”

  “Precisely what he wanted to hear. We have to convince him that this is a battle he’s capable of winning. Otherwise, what’s to stop him turning round and heading out of the system?”

  The clarity of that thought surprised her. Yes. Why wouldn’t he? The Yakutians overtures towards the people of Blackthorn had been roundly rejected and with Governor Ardent set to retake her place at the top table, there was little incentive to stay.

  And yet, she could see why Sunderam might be tempted. And, clearly, Faulkner had recognised this too.

  Sunderam saw an opportunity to make a name for himself here. He’d seen Faulkner defeat one ship and he wanted the opportunity to do the same. Only Thor was that much more of a trophy than Loki had been.

  So, Faulkner had played him. Led him to believe that he did have a chance of defeating this enemy and, with their help, perhaps he did. But that meant Renheim putting itself in harm’s way once again.

  It didn’t seem fair and yet, here they were.

  “Sir, I don’t understand. I realise what you want us to achieve but with virtually no missiles and our lasers in such a state … well, I just don’t know what you intend for me to do.”

  “You’re fixating on beating the enemy by going toe-to-toe with them. You need to come away from that way of thinking if we’re to have any chance of pulling this off.”

  “Sir, I’m just trying to be realistic.”

  But he wasn’t listening. He was too taken with stirring his coffee.

  “What was it Sun Tzu said? Weapons don’t win battles, ideas do. If you recall, it wasn’t missiles that helped get us through that debris cloud, was it?”

  No, that was all down to McNeill’s quick thinking. But you could only get so far with stunts like that. In the end, you need decent weaponry and the ammo to service it.

  She rubbed at her forehead, trying to stay calm. They’d been at this for almost three days and the only sleep she’d had in that time had been when she’d fallen asleep in one of the stalls in the bathroom. She just needed to rest.

  “I just can’t see what other options are open to us.”

  He sipped his coffee.

  “Granted, it’s not the first thing that comes to mind in an engagement such as this.”

  She felt her face starting to glow red as her anger and frustration started to build.

  Then she said, “You’re talking about the rail gun, aren’t you?”

  “I can’t see why we didn’t think of it sooner.”

  “Rail guns, really?” she was immediately suspicious. “I’m sure they were very useful in the Long War against enemy transports and things like that but not here, surely?”

  “No, and under normal conditions, you’d be right.”

  “Because of her shields?”

  “Yes, but Captain Sunderam assures me that he can take care of those.”

  She just stared at Faulkner.

  “And you believe him?”

  “At this point, I don’t think we have any choice. How long do you think it would take to get those rail guns up and running?”

  “I’d have to get some crews down there,” she said. “But that won’t be our main concern.”

  “So, what will?”

  “Ammunition. I don’t know how much is down there, though I can’t see there being much.”

  “Alright. Then, you’d best get on with it.”

  *

  “Captain?” she froze at the sight of Sunderam but then dropped her head in a sign of obedience. It had the desired effect and he smiled.

  “Doctor Morton. I hope married life is agreeing with you.”

  “Yes, sir. Very much,” she said, in Coptic. “I am a woman of many parts.”

  Sunderam put his hands together in mock applause.

  “I’m impressed,” he said in English. “Do you know much more?”

  She looked him in the eye. “A little. I’m still having trouble with the various genders.”

  “As the poet Yemerah said, ‘Such is the work of a lifetime.’”

  He lifted his hands in dismissal and everyone, includin
g the priest, took their things and departed.

  Sunderam started drying his feet with a towel though his eyes remained fixed on Morton throughout.

  “What brings you out to the temple on a day like this?”

  “My husband wanted to make a devotion to the goddess and I thought I’d tag along.”

  “I see. And how are you handling the transition from being a full-time surgeon to stay-at-home wife?”

  “It’s not been easy, but we all have to make adjustments when faced with new challenges. You must feel that yourself.”

  Sunderam gave her a wry smile, acknowledging the way she’d turned the conversation back on him.

  “You’re so right,” he said, pulling on his boots. “Things have been very … fluid of late.”

  “Is it anything to do with that top secret project of yours?”

  Sunderam looked at her with hooded eyes. “Top secret project. Where did you hear all that?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, the marketplace is full of it. It’s all anyone can talk about.”

  “I understand,” he said. “You’re mocking me. Tell me what’s been said. I’m anxious to hear.”

  Although he worked hard to keep his tone light, Morton was keenly aware that she may have gone too far this time.

  “My apologies, captain. I just don’t want to get anyone into trouble, that’s all.”

  “Very wise. Still, I’d like to know what it was that piqued your interest.”

  Morton cleared her throat to give herself time to think. Whatever she did say she had to be careful not to incriminate Bayas in any way.

  “You’ve been moving heavy transports at night, hoping that no one will notice. There’ve been power outages during the day which no one is supposed to talk about. Two days ago, there was a major event being staged on the top deck of the ship which people were excited about. Should I go on?”

  “No need,” he made a gesture of weary acceptance. “So, what do you make of all this? What do you think has been going on?”

  Morton knew that she was on shaky ground here but felt that so long as they were discussing Sunderam’s problems they’d be taking the focus off Bayas. Also, from the time she’d spent with Faulkner, she knew how lonely it could be at the top. Sunderam would probably appreciate hearing someone else’s take on things. He might not like it, but he’d see the importance of it.

 

‹ Prev