Alarm of War (52 page)

“Fire all weapons!” he ordered.

In one of the corridors on the
Vengeance
, Cookie felt a heavy vibration through the soles of her feet, and realized that the battleship had just fired its main weapons. Urgency gripped her and she could feel the bile rise in her throat. They had to move faster! She followed five Marines around the corner and found herself facing a dozen or more astonished Dominion soldiers. They all carried sidearms and frantically groped for them as two of the Marines opened fire with their pellet guns. The Tilleke air-powered rifles made their odd
ponk! ponk! ponk!
sound and half of the Dominion troops spun and crumpled to the deck. Wisnioswski stepped forward, bellowing incoherently, and buried his spear deep in one man’s chest, just below the breast bone. The man’s eyes bulged and he openend his mouth to scream, but Wisnioswski lifted him bodily off the ground and smashed him violently against the bulkhead.

Cookie shifted to the side to clear her field of fire and opened up with her pellet gun. One of the Duck soldiers was raising a radio to his mouth and she shot him twice in the face. The pellets lacked the sheer force of a sonic rifle or the precision of a flechette gun, but they did the job all right. The soldier’s head splattered backward and the radio handset went flying. She looked around. All of the Dominions were down. Beside her, Wisnioswski was grinning broadly, holding up the bloody spear.

“Oh, I
like
this!” he roared.

“Get one of their pistols, Wisnioswski,” she barked.

He held one up in his other hand. “I got one, Sarge, but can I keep my spear, too?”

“I’ve created a monster,” she muttered. “Everybody, keep moving! Don’t stop!”

More Marines joined them and they surged forward. Somewhere ahead lay the Bridge.

The
Vengeance
fired its heavy lasers and shot twenty missiles at close range, leaving no time for the
Galway
to dodge
.
The
Galway
was well out in front of the other ships and radiating loudly on the
Vengeance’s
sensors
.
It never stood a chance. Its last missile had barely left the launch rails when six lasers sliced into it, leaving the
Galway
’s forward missile rooms open to vacuum. It explosively vented air and bodies and debris and began to roll over. But not for long. Of the twenty missiles, fourteen struck it, penetrating deep into its interior before detonating. The result was catastrophic.

The H.M.S.
Galway
broke in half like a rotten stick. Its stern section spun off in one direction while its torn and mangled bow compartments cart-wheeled off in another. Seventeen crew members were still alive, locked in a small cabin that was airtight. They ran out of air before the cold could kill them.

“Chaff and decoys!” Emily screamed. Both her hands were shaking now and she tucked them into her armpits. “Get back into the minefield!” Sensors had finally located the Dominion battleship that had ambushed them from less than a thousand miles. “All ships, lock onto the Duck battleship and fire lasers! Now!”

She felt the ‘
thrummm’
of the giant capacitors discharging, followed by the familiar screeching whine as they began their recharge cycle. On the holo display, she could see the high-speed trail of the
Galway’s
Code Omega drone as it sped from the ruined hulk toward the space station Atlas, where itwould report that yet another Victorian ship was lost.

“We are back in the minefield, Captain,” Rahim Bahawalanzai reported from the pilot’s seat. Even the unshakeable pilot sounded rattled.

Emily nodded, already pushing the
Galway
from her mind as she took in the next threat. Behind them the Dominion battleship had launched another volley of missiles at their last location and she watched as they destroyed several mines. The explosion of the
Galway
acted like chaff, she thought. The Ducks couldn’t see where we ran to. On the far side of the battle display, the
Galway’s
Code Omega drone finally disappeared off the screen. Then there was another series of explosions, this time closer, as the Duck cruisers joined in the fun.

“Message from the
Kent,”
Betty announced. Emily nodded at her to put it on. In a moment a very angry Captain Stein was facing her.

“You’re killing us, Tuttle!” she snapped. “We cannot trade ship for goddam ship with these guys and expect to win.”

Grant Skiffington joined the conference, his face grim. “What are we going to do, Emily?”

“We are going to fall back to the Atlas!” Stein jumped in. “That’s the only card left now. Suffering Christ! We sure aren’t doing any good out here.”

“Emily,” Grant Skiffington began, but Emily held up a hand to silence them both.

“We’re moving to the inner edge of the minefield, nearer to the Atlas. Once there, we’ll position ourselves to shoot the first Dominion ship that sticks its nose out of the minefield.”

“Shoot them! Shoot them with what?” Stein shouted. “I’ve got six missiles left. Six! Half my lasers are gone and my capacitors are taking ten minutes to recharge.”

Emily looked at Grant. He smiled mirthlessly. ““I’ve got half my lasers. I’ve got nine missile tubes functioning and enough missiles for two volleys.”

Emily nodded. The
New Zealand
had thirteen missile tubes and twenty missiles left, but only five laser batteries still functioning.

“We follow the plan,” she said evenly. “Fall back with me to the inner edge of the minefield and get ready to fire when the first Duck comes through.”

“We won’t survive that,” Stein said flatly.

“The goal is for Atlas to survive,” Emily replied.

“Sweet Gods of Our Mothers,” Stein muttered.

“Listen, Emily,” Grant began. “If we fall back to the Atlas, maybe we can re-arm and-”

“Merlin!” Emily called.

“Captain Tuttle?” the AI replied.

“Launch the Code Omega drone.”

“Order accepted.” A pause. “The Code Omega drone is launched.”

Emily looked at her two other captains. They stared back grimly. Perhaps a little defiantly? They knew what she was doing. “Launch your Code Omega drones, then power down and go as stealthy as you can and follow me. If we get separated, meet at-” She gave the coordinates. She cut the communications before either of them could object.

Emily sat back in her chair, careful not to let any of her inner turmoil show on her face.

A long minute later, Merlin reported: “Sensors reports Code Omega from both the
Yorkshire
and
Kent
. Do you wish to commence rescue operations?”

Emily took a deep breath and held herself in check.
Do not shout at the computer,
she told herself. “Merlin, what is the status of the minefield? How long to breach by the Dominions?”

“The minefield will be breached in approximately forty minutes,” Merlin said.

The
New Zealand
went to stealth conditions and moved slowly toward the inner edge of the minefield. Alex Rudd came to stand beside her. “Alex?” she asked softly. “Are the
Yorkshire
and
Kent
following us?”

“Yes, Emily,” he reassured her. “They’re close behind us.”

Thank God, she thought. Her hands trembled. She tucked them under her thighs and sat on them.

Further behind them, the Dominion ships resumed blasting their way through the minefield.

Emily wondered how Cookie was doing.

The Sensors Officer on the Dominion
Vengeance
turned to Admiral Mello. “Sir! The Victorian ships just launched their Omega drones. But they’re still alive, Admiral. Sensors caught a glimpse of them before they went into stealth mode.” The Sensors Officer looked bewildered. “Why would they do that?”

Mello grunted, stroking his chin. He nodded to himself. He admired this Victorian, whoever he was. “The Victorian admiral leading those ships just told us that they will fight to the death. They will not run away.” Then, mindful that his bridge crew was watching him, he smiled wolfishly.

“So, we’ll just have to kill them all, won’t we?”

C
ookie dove for cover as a fusillade of flechettes pinged off the bulkhead just above her. The two Marines immediately in front jerked backwards, blood spurting in waves as their headless bodies crashed to the floor. Cookie snatched up their air guns and passed them back. “Give these to someone who only has a spear,” she told the private behind her. Gods of Our Mothers, what she would give for a powered battle suit. Armor. Weapons. Amplified sensors. Medical support mods. March right through the bastards and take the bridge in ten minutes. Kill ‘em all.

If wishes were horses
, she thought ruefully,
beggars would ride
. She turned to the soldiers behind her, thirty or more, all armed with air guns, and all staring at her wide-eyed. “There’s only three or four of them in front of us. You, you and you-”she pointed. “Lay down suppressing fire. The rest of you run right at them. We are running out of time. Now move!”

Two minutes and five dead later, they moved another corridor closer to the Bridge. Off to their left and behind them, they could hear the steady tattoo of gun fire and the intermittent crackle of a heavy energy weapon. Cookie smiled ruefully. Using a heavy energy weapon inside the ship? We must have
really
pissed them off.

“Keep moving!” she told her soldiers. A private skidded around the corner, saw her and flopped down beside her, breathing heavily. “Sergeant, Master Sergeant Zamir told me to tell you that the second wave did not transport aboard.”

“What!” Cookie said, biting back a scream of frustration.

The runner nodded. “Master Sergeant thinks something must have gone wrong, but no more troops came through.”

Cookie’s mood swung between panic, anger and disbelief. “Where is the Master Sergeant?”

“Well, that’s the second part,” the private said. “The Ducks have some soldiers in powered armor. They’re somewhere behind us but moving up. Master Sergeant says we can’t stop them with the pop guns we have, so you have to take the bridge real quick. He says he’ll try to buy you some time, but that you need to, uh, well, he said you need to move your ass.”

Unbelievable,
thought Cookie. She stood up. Somewhere in front of her was the Dominion Bridge.

On the Space Station Atlas, Hiram Brill’s assistant, Nina, approached him hesitantly. “Commander, this just came in from Sensors.”

Hiram was trying desperately to move more missile mines from the front of the Atlas to its rear, where the Dominion force was threatening them. “Can you handle it, Nina?” he asked distractedly, not taking his eyes off the hologram.

“Commander,” she began, and then stopped. He looked up in alarm; uncertainty was not one of Nina’s traits. “Hiram,” she said softly. “We’ve had four Code Omega drones. The
Galway, Kent, New Zealand and Yorkshire
. They’re all gone. I’m sorry.” She turned and left.

Hiram sat numbly in the chair, staring at nothing. In all of his life he had had only one real friend, and in all of his life he only loved one woman. Now they were both dead? He couldn’t understand it. Wouldn’t understand it.

“Nina!” he shouted. From across the room she looked up, startled and worried. “Send the data from the Omega drones to my console,” he told her. Dammit, they weren’t dead until he saw it with his own eyes.

On the battle bridge of the
Vengeance,
Captain Pattin leaned over to Admiral Mello. “I’m getting reports of enemy soldiers onboard. There is shooting around the mess desk and in some of the corridors.”

Mello looked at her, eyebrows raised. “How?”

Pattin shrugged. “They must have gotten close enough to land a shuttle on our hull and cut through. I don’t think there can be very many of them. I’ve alerted DSD and they’re hunting them down.”

Mello turned back to his battle display. A few men with guns were an annoyance, but not a threat. The Security Directorate thugs would hunt them down. The lucky ones would be killed; those not so fortunate would be captured. The Dominion Security Directorate had a certain, ah,
reputation
when it came to prisoners. Well, not his problem, was it?

He pointed to the display of the Dominion warships grinding their way through the Victorian minefield. “Won’t be long now.”

Two thousand miles behind the
Vengeance
, on the Dominion battleship
Fortitude,
there was a knock at Admiral Kaeser’s door. He took that as a good sign: if Captain Bauer were treating him as a prisoner, he would have just opened the door and come in. Knocking was a touch of civility, a sign of respect. It meant there was hope.

Admiral Kaeser opened the door personally, rather than simply barking “Come!” as was the general practice. “Come in, Captain,” he told Bauer, then ushered him to a chair. Bauer sat down, looking nervous and distracted, more nervous than he would have been just because he was visiting his admiral under house arrest.

“Perhaps you should tell me, Fritz,” Kaeser said.

“It’s Admiral Mello, sir,” Bauer said in a rush. “He’s lost another cruiser to a Vicky raid. His attack force is down to the
Vengeance
and four cruisers. I think he’s got enough force to break through the rest of the minefield, but if the Vicky ships return from the worm hole, Admiral Mello’s force will be overwhelmed.”

Kaeser nodded. Mello was bull-headed and unrelentingly aggressive, and a firm believer that every war culminated in a “decisive battle.” If Mello thought
this
was the decisive battle with the Victorians, he would risk everything for it. Kaeser sighed. How was it that fools like this always seemed to reach positions of power?

“What is our status, Captain?” he asked.

Bauer took a deep breath. “The
Fortitude
has been ordered forward to join the
Vengeance
. We are about to enter the passage they’ve blasted through the minefield.”

“Reinforcements? Are any more ships coming from our force around the Vicky home world?”