Falcone Strike (19 page)
Authors: Christopher Nuttall
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Galactic Empire, #Military, #Space Fleet, #Space Marine, #Space Opera
“The cloudscoop and seven freighters were destroyed, Captain,” Captain Minford Bannister reported. She was a short woman with an aggressive temperament that had already cost her a chance at a more normal command. “I picked up a handful of escape pods, but the passengers were quite violent and had to be sedated.”
“We’ll keep them on the freighters once we get back to the RV point,” Kat said. “Were there any other issues?
”
“
None, Captain,” Minford said. “There were a handful of small settlements on the moons, but I didn’t regard them as being worth destroying. They may have been established before the Theocracy rolled into the system.”
“Local files would seem to agree,” Davidson said. “The Theocracy didn’t seem to think they were worth considering a potential threat.”
Kat nodded. “Thank you, Captain Bannister,” she said. “And please extend my compliments to your gunnery crews.”
“Thank you,” Minford said. “Do you still intend to remain in orbit until the enemy counterattack?
”
“
For the moment,” Kat said. “We will see.”
She tapped the console. Minford’s face vanished from the display.
“I doubt we hurt the Theocracy that much,” Davidson said. “By any reasonable standards, the industrial nodes here are a tiny percentage of what they have to have, if they’re facing us on even terms. But losing them may cause problems in the future.”
Kat nodded. The intelligence teams had swarmed over the captured stations, discovering that they’d largely been keyed to producing farming and life support equipment for a dozen nearby colony worlds. A minor matter, with the possible exception of the cloudscoop, but it would cause them headaches in the future. Who knew
what
would happen if smaller colonies could no longer feed themselves? Or, more likely, if there were problems fueling the ships traveling from system to system?
At the very least, they will have to start supplying the fuel from Aswan
, she thought coldly.
It might just hamper what they have available for sup porting the offensive.
She ran a hand through her long hair, dismissing the thought. “And the captured personnel?
”
Davidson took a breath. “As you suspected, Captain, most of them came from Verdean,” he said. “They were conscripted into the workforce, their families held on one of the colonies on Verdean III. We’ve captured the bases and reunited families, but most of them don’t want to leave their homeworld. We may have to drag them off world by force.”
Kat winced. Tools and equipment were useful, but they were largely useless without a trained workforce to operate them. The Theocracy had to be short on the latter, which meant that removing the workers permanently—by force, if necessary—would hamper their war effort. But she didn’t
want
to take them and their families by force.
“See if Perrier can convince them to depart,” she said. “If not”—she took a breath—“they’ll have to come with us anyway, as prisoners. They will be treated well, and we will return them when it’s safe to do so, but they cannot be left behind. They’d be put back to work for the enemy.”
“Or shipped off somewhere else, now that there’s no point in keeping them here,” Davidson offered. “I’ll see to it personally, Captain.”
Kat nodded, relieved.
“We also captured a dozen additional freighters,” Davidson added. “Unfortunately, there was very little war material in the system and most of it was expended on us. I don’t think we have any realistic hopes of setting an ambush.”
“Understood,” Kat said. She
had
had hopes, but she knew better than to rely on capturing something useful from the enemy. “And the resistance fighters?
”
“
They’re on their way to the ground,” Davidson said. “I don’t think they’re going to have a very pleasant time of it, Captain.”
“I know,” Kat said. Verdean had taken a battering; the Theocracy had ruthlessly purged any traces of the old order, then she’d smashed the Theocracy’s military and government bases herself. Most of the planet’s cities were in chaos, a state that would last until the Theocracy returned and hammered any visible centers of resistance from orbit. “Is there anyone on the surface we should consider evacuating too?
”
“
Not as yet,” Davidson said. “We do have an open offer for anyone related to the resistance fighters, or anyone with useful skills, but so far no one has come forward and requested pickup. They may feel it’s a trap . . .”
“Or that we’re no better than the Theocracy,” Kat finished. No one had said so, but she was sure a number of innocent civilians had been killed in the bombardment. “Or that we won’t be staying long enough to pick up anyone.”
“True,” Davidson said. He cleared his throat. “What do you want to do with the freighters?
”
“
Put the former industrial personnel onboard, then send them to the RV point,” Kat said. “Under the circumstances, we can probably risk sending them straight back home, even if they
do
have to fly through the Reach. Admiral Christian will be pleased, I hope, with the reports of our success.”
Davidson nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I . . .”
He broke off as the console chimed. “Brilliant,” Kat said, glancing at it. “Rose MacDonald would like to speak with me.”
“We’re in the middle of a war zone,” Davidson pointed out. “You could refuse . . .”
“I may as well speak to her,” Kat said. She tapped the console, then nodded. “Go see to the industrial workers, Pat. Try and get them to come willingly, if possible.”
Davidson nodded, then left, the hatch hissing closed behind him. She sighed and gathered herself as best as she could before the door buzzed loudly, announcing the arrival of the observer. Kat brought up the near-orbit display so she could keep an eye on it—the timer, hovering over the planet, counting down the seconds until enemy forces could reach Verdean from Aswan—and then keyed a switch. The door hissed open, revealing the grim-faced observer.
“Captain,” she said, “why
are
we sending thousands of resistance fighters into a hopeless battle?
”
“
They want to return to their homeworld and make the Theocracy miserable,” Kat said as the door hissed closed. She waved the observer into a chair, then glanced at the display. “Who are we to stand in their way?
”
“
Most of them will be dead by the end of the week,” the observer said coldly. “I am no stranger to the power of orbital bombardment, Captain.”
“Nor is the Theocracy,” Kat sighed. “I would agree with you, Miss MacDonald, but anything that delays the Theocracy works in our favor.”
“Call me Rose,” the observer said. She met Kat’s eyes, unflinchingly. “Do you really believe the resistance here can make a major difference? Or are you just using them for your own aims?
”
Kat kept her face expressionless. She knew, from her XO, that Rose had a political agenda, but the question was a fair one. On the face of it, the resistance on Verdean was doomed; the Theocracy would crush them from orbit, as the observer knew. And yet, they might have their uses when the Royal Navy took the offensive. Who knew
what
the future would bring? “The Theocracy is likely to start scorching worlds when we take the offensive,” she said finally. “They’d want to deny us the chance to liberate them, let alone make use of whatever resources those worlds could offer us. Having a resistance force on the planet might make the difference between successfully saving their world and watching helplessly as it burns to ash.”
Rose frowned. “Do you think the Theocracy will destroy Hebrides?
”
Kat felt a sudden flicker of sympathy for the older woman. Tyre had been attacked, but the attacks had been comparatively minor: a handful of commando attacks, viruses inserted into computer systems, and a couple of bombings. Hebrides, on the other hand, had been invaded and occupied, with the Theocracy crushing all resistance from orbit. It was quite likely the enemy would scorch captured worlds, if there was a strong chance of them being liberated, if only to force the Commonwealth to choose between letting the worlds burn and leaving them in enemy hands.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I do know that leaving the captured worlds in enemy hands will be just as destructive.”
Kat sighed. “It’s easy to make these choices from a distance, from a detached perspective,” she added. “But when it comes to reality . . . the choices we make have consequences.”
“They always do,” Rose agreed. She looked down at the deck for a long moment, then back at Kat. “Do
you
feel the Commonwealth always makes wise decisions?
”
“
I think it has a habit of making the best decision it can, at the time,” Kat said. “And sometimes those decisions cause problems, which have to be solved, but those solutions tend to cause other problems . . . and so on, and so on.”
Rose smiled. “Like fighting the war?
”
“
It takes two people to stop a war, but only one to start it,” Kat said. “The Theocracy was gobbling up worlds for decades before we even knew it had survived the Breakdown, let alone started an advance towards us. I don’t think we had much of a choice, but to prepare for war. The refugees alone should have warned us the enemy was far from friendly.”
“They did,” Rose said. She frowned tightly. “What happened at Cadiz?
”
Kat hesitated, suddenly aware of dangerous waters surrounding her. The truth—that Admiral Morrison had been an idiot—wasn’t very well known, not when it might have demoralized the Commonwealth at the worst possible moment. But no one could look at the facts, even the handful of elements in the public domain, and think that
someone
hadn’t blundered. In the long term, the truth would come out and, when it did, it would be devastating.
“We were caught by surprise,” she said. She normally used a cruder expression, but there was something about Rose that made it hard to swear in front of her. “And they drove us away from the planet.”
Kat shrugged, then nodded to the display. “We will have to leave here too,” she added, warningly. “But we will return.”
“This is supposed to be
home
,” Jean-Luc protested. He’d been
born
in Filose City. His parents had met in the city, they’d married in the city, and they’d raised three children in the city. It hadn’t been a bad place to grow up either, until the Theocracy had arrived. After that . . . it might have been a nightmare, but it was still largely intact. Now, large parts of Filose were in ruins, hundreds of buildings were nothing more than piles of rubble, and there was a giant crater in the heart of the city where the Theocracy had established their government base.
And there were bodies everywhere.
He shuddered as he stared down at the corpses. Many of them were enemy soldiers or clerics—their captors had been very inventive in devising unpleasant ways for them to die—but countless others were civilians: men, women, and children who’d fallen on their enemies, no longer scared to raise a hand against them. A young man lay on the ground, his head gone; beside him, a young woman had bled to death from three bullet wounds in her chest . . . he swallowed hard, barely able to keep his gorge from rising as he saw the remains of a child lying on the ground. The corpse was so mutilated that he honestly couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl. Probably a boy, he told himself, although he could have been wrong. Most families had learned, very quickly, to keep their young women indoors at all times.
Because otherwise they might be raped
, he thought, feeling bitter hatred curdling in his heart.
It would remind them of their place, they were told, if they were caught outside by the janissaries . . .
He peered into the distance, trying to match the ruined city with the mental image he’d clung to for a year. The Black Tower had been there, he thought—the home of the city’s military commander. Rumor had it that he’d committed the most awful crimes; he’d raped and killed hundreds of people personally, just to satisfy his hellish lusts. Jean-Luc had no idea how many of the rumors were true, if
any
of them were true, but no one had dared go near the Black Tower. Anyone who went inside as a prisoner was never seen again.
And they claimed to be telling us the true way to live
, he thought. The religious classes had been hard, with whippings for anyone who forgot even a single word. And the mere accusation of heresy could kill.
We lived in fear, and hatred, and desperation.
He looked back at Perrier. “Sir?
”
“
Most of the remaining civilians have headed for the hills,” Perrier said. His face was bleak; he’d been away for five years, not one. To him, the devastation had to seem far worse. “We’ll be falling back to join them there.”
“As you wish,” Jean-Luc said. There was no point in staying. He’d hoped to find traces of his relatives, even though his immediate family was dead, but it was clearly futile. The city was too badly damaged for anyone to remain, unless they were capable of finding food and drink among the wreckage. “How . . . how many people do you think died here?
”
Perrier shook his head sadly. “I wouldn’t care to guess,” he said. He studied the bodies for a chilling moment, then looked up. “How many people lived here before you were captured?
”
Jean-Luc frowned, trying to recall if he’d ever been told. “At least a few hundred thousand,” he said, finally. Filose hadn’t had the population density of Cherbourg or New Paris, but it had been a reasonably large city. “They can’t
all
be dead.”
“Maybe.” Perrier continued to gaze at the wreckage and the bodies. “People taken off the streets and shot for looking suspicious, people pressganged into worker teams, people moved into controlled environments to make it harder for the resistance to influence them . . . people killed in the final moments when the rocks rained from overhead and the population went mad. And everyone who survived might be heading for the hills.”
“Where there won’t be enough food,” Jean-Luc said. He stared into the distance. A plume of smoke was rising from a former enemy base. The nasty part of his mind hoped the enemy soldiers had lasted long enough to be brutally murdered by their former victims. “They won’t last the winter.”
“The ration packs are being dropped to us,” Perrier reminded him. “And we will have a chance to set up new base camps before the enemy return. They’ll probably focus their attention on the larger cities. There are more human resources there.”
Jean-Luc nodded. “Now what?
”
Perrier rubbed his hands together. “Now we go to ground,” he said. “Let them return, let them get complacent, and then we will come out of the hills.”