Falcone Strike (35 page)

“Aye, Captain,” Roach said.

Kat watched, grimly, as the shuttles closed in on their targets. The freighters didn’t so much as twitch as the shuttles docked, armed and armored Marines spilling into the ships and hunting for potential targets. She followed them through the datanet, listening to the messages they snapped backwards and forwards as they rounded up the crew, feeling the tension only continuing to rise as nothing happened. Something was wrong, but what? Had they stumbled across a POW convoy? Or had they missed something significant . . . ? “All ships secured, Captain,” Davidson reported. “Their selfdestruct systems were not activated; I say again, their self-destruct systems were not activated. They didn’t even try to dust the computers.”

Kat shook her head in disbelief. Surely, if the enemy crew were loyalists, they would have made sure the freighters were unusable. Unless they thought they’d be killed out of hand if they wrecked the ships.

“Understood,” she said. “Are they enemy crewmen or renegades?
”

“
Enemy crewmen, as far as I can tell,” Davidson said. “They’ve certainly got the language and accents down pat.”

Kat frowned. Just
what
had they stumbled over? “We’re just checking the manifests now,” Davidson added. “I . . .”

He broke off. “Captain,” he said. He sounded as if he were trying very hard not to laugh. “I think you’re going to want to see this.”

“Show me,” Kat ordered, swinging her console around so she could access her private datacore. “Upload it to me.”

She frowned as the manifest appeared in front of her. A handful of spare parts, identified only by ID codes, a small selection of weapons . . . and a
StarCom
? “They’re carrying a StarCom?” she asked. “A
working
StarCom?
”

It seemed impossible. The structures orbiting the Commonwealth’s planets were huge, easily four times the size of a superdreadnought. Breaking one down and transporting it to another world would require at least two bulk freighters, unless something the size of an old UN colonistcarrier ship was used. None of the freighters in front of her were anything like large enough to carry a full-fledged StarCom. Had the Theocracy managed to make a miniature version? It didn’t seem possible.

“I’m no expert, but it looks as though they stripped one down to the bare essentials,” Davidson said. “The engineering crew will need to take a careful look at it.”

He paused. “I think that explains why they surrendered so quickly,” he added. “They probably had strict orders to keep the StarCom intact, rather than blowing up their own ships to ensure it didn’t fall into enemy hands.”

“Probably,” Kat said. Her mind churned, coming up with ideas for using this completely unexpected stroke of luck. “What’s in the other ships?
”

“
Weapons, mainly,” Davidson said. “Missile pods, automated weapons platforms . . . I think this was a resupply convoy for the entire sector.”

Kat smiled. An idea was starting to flower into life in her mind. “Prepare the ships for a hasty return to the RV point,” she ordered. “Before we leave, take a team of engineers and see if they can get the StarCom up and running. I may have a use in mind for it.”

We could always send a report from enemy space back home,
she thought. It was easy enough to tune one StarCom to link into another, if one had the correct codes. But she had another idea in mind.
I won der if we could use this to mislead them . . .

“Understood, Captain,” Davidson said.

Kat looked down at her hands as her crew scrambled to work. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way she could get at the POW camp, if everything went according to plan. She had the files from the defector, the StarCom and its database of communications codes . . . and Parker, who was willing to do anything to make up for his mistakes. If she was lucky, she could undermine the enemy . . .

. . . and even if it didn’t work, she knew they wouldn’t know what she was actually doing. Or what she was actually trying to do. The POW camp should remain unmolested until a much larger fleet could be assembled and sent to Aswan, rather than have the prisoners moved elsewhere. As long as the enemy remained in ignorance . . .

Well
, she told herself,
they won’t know until it’s far too late
.

She glanced at the XO. “Once we return to hyperspace, meet me and Major Davidson in my office,” she added. “We have a mission to plan.”

“Aye, Captain,” the XO said.

Kat looked at the star chart, hastily running through a set of calculations. The convoy was due to reach Aswan in two weeks, assuming it stayed on schedule. There would be some leeway, she was sure, although the base commander would probably take a dim view of any lateness. She might
just
have enough time to lay her plans, make her preparations, and ready the remainder of her squadron.

And, at the very least, we can ask for reinforcements
, she told herself.
And share what we’ve learned about the Theocracy with Admiral Christian.

“This is the situation,” Kat said. She tapped a switch, bringing up a holographic chart of the Aswan System. “The enemy’s naval base, along with most of his mobile forces, are gathered in orbit around Aswan itself. They have a smaller patrol force stationed near the gas giant and a handful of automated weapons platforms orbiting Redemption. Given the importance of the planet, we must assume they also have a watchdog keeping an eye on things under stealth.”

“They should,” the XO said. “Why don’t they keep the prisoners on Aswan itself?
”

“
I suspect it has something to do with interservice rivalry,” Davidson offered. “Whoever is in charge of taking care of POWs probably wants a base of their own, rather than put them anywhere near the naval base. We used to have similar disagreements with the army.”

Kat shrugged, dismissing the matter. “We’re going to unload the freighters and mount those missile pods to their hulls,” she said. “The engineering crews should be able to handle it, particularly if we just dump the rest of their cargos into space rather than trying to ship them all back home.
Then
we’re going to rig up a slave control system and send the freighters into the Aswan System, ready to fire on the defenders as soon as they come into range.”

“The freighter convoy will be overdue,” the XO warned.

“Not by more than five days,” Kat said. She’d run the calculations as best as she could, using the data they’d recovered from the defector and checked against the datacores on the freighters. There
was
some leeway, as she’d expected, and, given what the freighters were carrying, the Theocrats would probably be too relieved to see them to ask too many questions. “We can put together a cover story if necessary. Maybe one of the ships had a drive failure and they had to slow to take the convoy in tow.”

“They’ll also be missing their defenders,” the XO added. He looked at the star chart for a long moment. “They’ll smell a rat.”

“We’re going to use drones to pose as their ships,” Kat said. “It shouldn’t be too tricky to get an ECM drone to pretend to be an enemy ship, rather than one of ours. By the time they get close enough to tell the difference, they’ll already be under fire.”

She looked at Davidson. “
Lightning
will have to accompany the freighters, under cloak,” she added. “While we’re busy making a mess, you and your men will have to get down to the POW camp and snatch the prisoners. Commander McElney”—she glanced at the XO—“will take command of the remainder of the active squadron. You should have enough time to complete the evacuation and jump out, heading for the first RV point.”

The XO cleared his throat. “There are still two squadrons of superdreadnoughts there,” he said. “It won’t be hard for them to detail one squadron to deal with you and the other to come after the rest of the squadron. That would be overkill for each of us.”

“If everything goes to plan,” Kat said, “those superdreadnoughts will no longer be there.”

She tapped the display. “We’re going to raid Porcupine,” she said, pointing to a system seven light years from Aswan. “It will look like we jumped into the system, took one look at the defenses, and ran for our lives. However, it will give us a chance to send them one more fake message. We’ll tell them that the
next
target on the list is Salvation.”

“And they’ll detach one of their superdreadnought squadrons in hopes of mounting a second ambush,” the XO said. “They’d be too far from Aswan to intervene once we attack.”

“So I hope,” Kat said. “The other squadron of superdreadnoughts . . .”

She met his eyes. “We have one of their StarComs,” she said. “We’re going to send orders for those ships to go to the front.”

“Admiral Christian is going to kick your ass,” Davidson remarked.

“They’d never fall for it,” the XO said. He shook his head in sheer disbelief. “They should check their orders, shouldn’t they?
”

“
Perhaps,” Kat said. “However, I was reading through the debriefings very carefully. Aswan has been
expecting
to receive orders to send one of the squadrons forward, so they won’t be too surprised to finally
get
them. We have the codes to make them
look
convincing and . . . well, questioning orders isn’t exactly encouraged in the Theocracy. If we make it sound as though the superdreadnoughts are urgently needed, they won’t have
time
to work up the nerve to ask for clarification.”

“Tell them there’s been a major counteroffensive and the front lines are being pushed backwards,” Davidson said.

“It’s a minimum of two weeks from Aswan to Cadiz,” the XO said slowly, playing devil’s advocate. “No matter how hard they push their drives, they’re not going to get there any faster. They might be concerned that they’d get there in time to be smashed . . . if, of course, there
was
an offensive.”

Kat looked down at the display. “Their senior officer, according to the defector, has a habit of commanding the squadrons sent out to intercept us,” she said. “If we lure him away first, his subordinate may be reluctant to ask questions. He might just dispatch his remaining squadron and hope his smaller ships, and the fixed defenses, are sufficient to handle any threats until his superiors return.”

“He
might
,” the XO said. “Captain, I can see the plan working, but it depends on too many factors outside our control.”

“We can mount a covert watch on the system,” Kat said. “If the superdreadnoughts don’t depart as ordered, or they recall the other squadron first, we back off. Hell, we can use the StarCom to signal Admiral Christian and update him on our status. He might be able to spare us a handful of modern warships.”

“If nothing else, it would certainly expose the flaws in their society,” the XO mused thoughtfully. “They’d have to become like us to beat us—and that would probably destroy them.”

“Probably,” Kat agreed. “Major?
”

Davidson took a breath. “It has the advantage of audacity,” he said. “But it could also go horrendously wrong.”

The XO smiled. “Forgotten your testosterone pill today?
”

“
It isn’t just me at risk,” Davidson said, irked. “It’s all of us.”

“If there isn’t a reasonable window to carry out the plan, we’ll fall back and break contact completely,” Kat said. She hated the idea of leaving the POWs in enemy hands a moment longer, but freeing them wasn’t worth the total destruction of her squadron. It would be better to round up a squadron of battle cruisers and then return to Aswan. “Yes, there is a risk, but we take risks in our stride each and every day.”

“Yes, Captain,” the XO said.

Kat took a breath. “Mr. XO, put together a plan to arm the freighters and the crippled ships the moment we return to the RV point,” she ordered. “Then prepare yourself to transfer to
Oliver Kennedy
. You’ll have overall command of the remainder of the squadron once we enter the system. Take as many tactical officers as necessary to handle the task.”

“Aye, Captain,” the XO said.

“Major Davidson, you and your men will transfer to
Oliver Kennedy
and the other ships,” Kat continued. “I want you to put together a plan to get in, grab as many prisoners as you can, and get out. There is to be
no
attempt to hold the planet or set up stay-behind units, merely a prison break. Use all of the remaining shuttles if necessary, rather than just the Marine shuttles. In the event of everything going to hell, improvise.”

“Yes, Captain,” Davidson said. “What happens if your ship gets boarded?
”

“
I doubt that will be an issue,” Kat said. “But the crew will be carrying sidearms, just in case.”

She frowned. The Theocracy
had
tried to board a handful of ships by force, rather than compelling them to surrender, but it had always ended badly. Either the boarding parties were wiped out by armed crewmen— they hadn’t seemed to anticipate resistance from anyone other than the Marines—or the victims had a chance to trigger the self-destruct before it was too late.
She
wouldn’t have kept trying a tactic that had failed spectacularly several times over, but the enemy seemed to be remarkably bloody-minded about some things.

“Don’t worry about it,” she added. “We’ll be fine.”

“And the cripples will draw fire,” the XO pointed out. “Are you planning to try to ram them into the enemy ships?
”

“
More likely their fortifications,” Kat said. “I would be surprised— very surprised—if we were allowed to get a ship into ramming position.”

She tapped her console, deactivating the display. “There’s no way to keep the details of the operational plan a secret, at least not without causing problems, so I want you to keep a very close eye on
any
way that a message can be smuggled off the ship,” she concluded. “We cannot afford another leak.”

“Aye, Captain,” Davidson said.

He smiled. “One way or the other, Captain, this will definitely go down in the history books.”

“Sure,” the XO said pessimistically. “Right under the heading of how not to do it.”

Kat laughed. “It’s something they will never expect,” she pointed out. “And really, just who would be stupid enough to carry out an attack with a handful of freighters and crippled warships?
”

She shrugged. “We’ll test the StarCom by sending back a full report,” she concluded. “The Admiralty will know everything we know, even if we don’t return.”