Never Surrender (The Empire's Corps Book 10) (20 page)

She looked up at the soldiers.  “Take him back to the prison compartment for the moment,” she ordered.  “We can move him back to the ship later, once it’s been thoroughly swept for unpleasant surprises.”

Kailee coughed as soon as the hatch was sealed.  “Are you not going to help his daughters?”

“I have no idea where to find them,” Jasmine said.  The Wolfbane Consortium might be far smaller than the Empire at its height, but it was still vast enough to contain over two hundred star systems.  She had a feeling the girls would be kept on Wolfbane itself, along with anyone else deemed a useful hostage.  “They could be anywhere.”

“They could be on Meridian,” Kailee pointed out.  “
I
was kept as a hostage on Meridian.”

Jasmine blinked.  She hadn't thought of that.

“It’s worth checking,” she said.  She rather doubted it would be the case, not when Frazier and his remaining crew were regularly flying between various collection facilities and Meridian, but it was a good thought.  “Other than that ...”

She shook her head.  “It's something you never get told by the flicks,” she added.  When the flicks weren't portraying marines and soldiers as blood-thirsty monsters, they were busy creating an image of war where no one got hurt.  “Being a Marine sometimes means having to make hard choices.”

Kailee’s eyes narrowed.  “Like what?”

Jasmine picked up a datapad and glanced at it, absently.  “There’s a man who walks down the road past the firebase, half an hour before the insurgents drop a hail of mortar fire on your head,” she said.  “Is he a dicker spying on you or is it just a coincidence?  Should you shoot him on suspicion or take him into custody?”

She went on before Kailee could say a word.  “There are people in the city too scared to do anything, but support the insurgents,” she added.  “Should you treat them as potential enemies or should you treat them lightly, even though they’re helping the bastards who are trying to kill you?  There’s a religious building being used as a sniper perch.  Should you blow up the building, pissing off the locals and the media, or should you let them snipe at you without any comeback?

“And there’s a child running towards you,” she concluded.  “Do you shoot the child or give her a hug?”

Kailee stared.  “Shoot a child?”

“The child is carrying a bomb,” Jasmine said.  She shivered inwardly; she’d faced the threat herself on Han.  Whatever else could be said about the Crackers, they’d been reasonably decent insurgents.  “Do you shoot her before she gets close enough to you to blow your entire platoon up ... or do you let her kill you all?”

“No one would do that,” Kailee protested.  “Really.”

“They have,” Jasmine said, flatly.  She didn't blame Kailee for being doubting.  There were levels of horror, like her life on Earth, then the nightmares unleashed by monsters who wanted to terrify their foes into submission.  “The enemies of civilisation have done far worse than turn children into portable bombs.”

She shook her head.  “Go see what sort of supplies were loaded onto the freighter,” she ordered.  “I need to give the resistance a call.”

Kailee nodded and left, looking shaken.

Jasmine sighed, then keyed her terminal.  It was nearly ten minutes before Clarence replied.

“Brigadier,” he said.  “Congratulations.”

“You’re welcome,” Jasmine said.  “I’m sending you about nine hundred prisoners - can you take them all to the camps?”

“They should be fine,” Clarence assured her.  “And the remainder of your people are ready to go.”

Jasmine nodded.  “Get the last of your teams out of the POW camps,” she ordered.  “Once we have the freighter loaded, we’re going to hit them from orbit, as planned.  Let me know if there’s anyone still there in nine hours.”

“You’re moving quickly,” Clarence said.  “Janet wants to know if you need her to come with you.”

“I don’t think so,” Jasmine said.  She’d checked Janet’s record, but she didn't have anything Jasmine desperately needed.  “If she would prefer to remain on Meridian, she can stay with you.”

“I’ll see what she says,” Clarence said.  He took a breath.  “Make sure you get clean away before they come looking for their missing ships, Brigadier.  I would hate to have all this be for nothing.”

“Me too,” Jasmine said.  It would be bad enough for her, but worse for Meridian.  The Wolves would definitely take their anger out on a defenceless civilian population.  “Me too.”

She closed the channel, then took a moment to gather herself.  They had a ship; they had a destination, if Frazier was telling the truth.  And then ... they could get a message out, even if they didn't set course directly for the Commonwealth.  And then ...

It was tempting to just head straight home.  She had a duty to report in to the Colonel, to take her licks for losing Thule.  Maybe it would mean the end of her career, or an assignment to train soldiers for future deployments, or even a deployment to a frozen world, but whatever it was she would endure.  And yet ... they were behind enemy lines, without the enemy having the slightest idea they were alive and free.  Who knew what they could do with such an opportunity?

Get a message to the Commonwealth
, she thought, carefully. 
The Trade Federation can do that for us, if we make contact.  Or snatch another freighter and send
that
ship to the Commonwealth.  And then ...

She keyed her wristcom.  “Carl, Thomas, once the freighter is loaded, I want to see you both,” she ordered.  She would need to talk to Frazier and probably Stubbins - and Paula - as well, but if her fellows thought she was pushing her luck, she wouldn't take it any further.  “I have had an idea.”

“Understood,” Watson said.  “There’s still at least eight hours before the freighter can depart, though.”

“No worries,” Jasmine said.  She smiled and stood, then stretched.  “I think we will have plenty of time to lay our plans.”

Chapter Twenty

A nation-state can be held responsible for its actions.  Furthermore, soldiers can be ordered to wear uniforms and generally comport themselves under the laws of war.  A terrorist group, however, cannot be relied upon to wear uniforms or do anything else to honour the laws of war.  Nor can an insurgency.

- Professor Leo Caesius. 
The Empire and its Prisoners of War.

Passing Water
, Year 5 (PE)

“We’re in position, Brigadier,” Stewart said.  He paused, mischievously.  “Should I be calling you Captain now?”

“No, thank you,” Jasmine said, primly.  She might have been in command of the
Passing Water
, but she was damned if she was stealing a title that properly belonged to Colonel Stalker.  “Do we have KEWs locked on target?”

“Damn right,” Watson said.  “I have nine projectiles locked on each camp, and a final two on the spaceport.  There won’t be anything left of them, but a hole in the ground.”

“Fire at will,” Jasmine said.

“Failing that, fire at the camps,” Watson said, wryly.  He tapped a switch on his console, then looked back at her.  “Firing.”

Jasmine watched, silently, as the KEWs fell through the atmosphere and struck the camps with staggering force.  She’d been far too close to orbital bombardments on Han, years ago, and she knew just what it was like to be targeted from orbit.  Watson was right; the evidence the camps had been emptied before they were destroyed would be utterly wiped out, along with all traces of the POWs.  The Wolves should have no evidence that she had evacuated the camps before she destroyed them.

It was a risk, she knew.  The Wolves could easily use it to justify an atrocity on a Commonwealth world.  But, at the same time, it would give Meridian plausible deniability, allowing them to claim they knew nothing of the breakout.  Let the Wolves blame her for everything, Jasmine figured.  It would save countless lives.

“Bombardment complete,” Watson reported.  “All targets smashed flat, then pulverised.  I say again, all targets ...”

“I heard,” Jasmine said.  “You may boost the station out of orbit now.”

Watson grinned, then tapped a set of commands into his console.  On the display, the station’s orbital thrusters - and a handful of spares her people had taped to the hull - activated, slowly pushing the station up and away from the planet.  She watched its hull start to crumple under the sudden acceleration, half-expecting to see it shatter, then allowed herself a moment of relief as it moved further away from the planet.  Watson tapped a second set of commands into his console and the station picked up speed, heading directly towards the sun.  It would be years before it reached its destination, but there was no doubt it would make it.

“The charges are primed,” Watson said.  “Request permission to detonate.”

“Granted,” Jasmine said.

The station disintegrated.  She kept a wary eye on the display, but most of the pieces of debris were still on a course that would take them - eventually - straight into the sun.  By the time the Wolves realised that something had gone wrong, there would be little hope of using the debris as anything other than a source of raw materials.  They would need to put together a whole new orbital station if they wished to send more POWs to Meridian.

Unless they start using single-shot capsules
, she thought, morbidly.  The Empire had used similar devices to dump new prisoners on penal colonies. 
But that would mean losing track of the prisoners afterwards.

She pushed the thought aside, then glanced at Stewart.  “Are we ready to move?”

“The drive is online,” Stewart said.  “ETA Phase Limit; nine hours, thirty-seven minutes.”

“Then take us out of orbit,” Jasmine ordered.  They’d set a course that shouldn’t intersect with a warship coming from Wolfbane, but she had no illusions about their ability to win a stern chase.  “Best possible speed.”

She sat back in what was laughingly called the command chair as Stewart activated the drives, then forced herself to relax.  One way or the other, they had escaped from Meridian and now they were heading to a place where - she hoped - they could pick up intelligence and decide what to do next.  The inescapable prison had proven to be rather less than secure, after all.

We got lucky
, she reminded herself. 
We couldn't have done it without Gary and Kailee - and the locals.

Meridian fell behind as the freighter picked up speed, eventually reduced to nothing more than an icon in the display.  Jasmine watched it fade, then picked up a datapad and began to read through more of the interrogation records.  Stubbins had been surprisingly talkative once he’d realised they’d actually captured a ship, but there was no way to know just how much of his information was badly outdated.  Jasmine had tried to take a stab at guessing, only to decide it simply wasn't possible.  Some details were largely set in stone, but others were very changeable.

“Show me the rest of the system,” she ordered.  “Is there any sign of a technological presence?”

“None,” Stewart said.  “Although with these pieces of shit” - he kicked the console - “I would be surprised if we picked up a bunch of loudmouths caterwauling the Imperial Anthem over every radio channel in the universe.  Someone could probably sneak up on us and have a boarding party on our hull before we knew they were there.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Watson objected.

“Oh, yeah?”  Stewart asked.  “How exactly did we take this ship again?”

“Keep a sensor watch, as best as you can,” Jasmine said, firmly.  It was a shame they didn't dare trust the ship’s original crew, but there were too many dangerous variables.  “And alert me the moment you pick up something, anything.”

Stewart nodded.  “Meridian does have a reasonable chance of becoming a profitable system,” he said, after a moment.  “They have a gas giant and a small asteroid belt ... maybe not quite on the same scale as Avalon, but they could definitely make a go of it.”

“They could do with one of the start-up loans,” Jasmine said.  Profession Cassius had talked the Commonwealth into offering new member worlds loans to establish cloudscoops and small industrial nodes for themselves.  She didn't understand the economics behind it, but she had to admit that cheap HE3 had paid off in a big way.  “But that will have to wait until the end of the war.”

“True,” Stewart agreed.  He looked down at his console.  “But if there’s anyone else in the system, I don’t think they’re keen to reveal themselves.  And who could blame them.”

“Survivalists wouldn't,” Jasmine said.  The Commonwealth had encountered several tiny settlements, each one planning to ride out the collapse of civilisation and then restore order on their own terms.  Most of them had gratefully joined the Commonwealth, but a handful had insisted on remaining independent.  They still thought the worst was yet to come.  “But wouldn't they have been better off on Meridian?”

“No way to know,” Stewart said.  “They might have assumed Wolfbane would survive the chaos - or
someone
would have - and then set out to build a whole new empire.”

Jasmine frowned, then returned to her chair and waited.  Hours ticked by slowly, too slowly, before the freighter finally crossed the Phase Limit.  Stewart tapped his console, then keyed the switch that triggered the Phase Drive.  The ship shuddered violently - it was clear the drive needed more than a little maintenance - but dropped into phase space without hesitation.  Jasmine let out a breath she hadn't realised she’d been holding, then relaxed completely.  They had made it away from Meridian.

“Course to Saltine laid in,” Stewart said.  “I think we’re looking at five days of transit, assuming the drive holds out.”

“And if it doesn't, we’re screwed,” Jasmine said, dryly.  There were no shortage of tales about starships limping home at STL speeds, but most of them were purely fictional.  The old generation ships hadn't lasted long, once humanity had developed the phase drive, and no modern ship could support its crew indefinitely.  “Even if we did manage to limp somewhere, it would be Wolfbane territory.”

“Too true,” Stewart said.  He rose to his feet.  “Do you want me to remain on watch?”

“It should be me,” Watson said.  “You two go and get some sleep.  I’ll stay here and mind the store.”

“Keep an eye out for trouble,” Jasmine ordered.  She stood, then walked to the hatch.  “And wake me if anything happens, anything at all.”

Watson nodded, then sat down in the command chair.  “I’ll scream like a little girl if I need you,” he assured her.  “Just come relieve me after you’ve had a nap.”

***

Gary would have given his fortune, which wasn't that much, to have had a teaching machine on Meridian.  There were so many skills that he’d needed, as the sole spaceport operator, that he hadn’t had a chance to learn, if only because there had been no one on Meridian able and willing to teach him.  Now, he sat in front of the teaching machine on the starship and studied, hard.  There was so much he had to learn.

“Hey,” Kailee said, as she stepped into the compartment.  “It’s time to go exercise.”

“Later,” Gary said.  He hadn't realised just how easy it was to navigate a starship, if one had the right computer programs.  Or, for that matter, how parts could be replaced with jury-rigged systems, if necessary.  “I need to do this.”

Kailee stepped forward, then caught his arm and pulled.  Taken by surprise, Gary stood up and stared at her.  “I ...”

“You’re coming with me,” Kailee said, firmly.  “You can come back to the machine later, I promise.”

Gary opened his mouth, then saw the glint in her eye and closed it again.  Kailee held his arm, gently but firmly, as they walked down a short corridor and into a large empty compartment.  Jasmine was doing push-ups on the deck, her body going up and down with an almost hypnotic regularity, her skin dry and unmarked by sweat.  Her sparse outfit - a shirt and a pair of shorts - showed muscles rippling over her body, and a handful of nasty-looking scars.  One of them looked as though someone had tried to cut her open with a knife.

“There’s an outfit for Gary over there,” Jasmine said, without stopping her push-ups.  “Get him into it, then run on the spot for a few minutes.  I’ll be with you afterwards.”

Gary hesitated - he hated getting undressed in public, even with Kailee - but did as he was told.  Gym class - he hadn't been one of the lucky ones who had managed to claim exemption from legalised torture - had taught him there was no point in trying to delay.  It was better to get changed rapidly, then get out before Barry or Moe or one of the others decided to start playing games with him.  The shorts felt loose against his body, but he knew better than to complain.  Gym teachers had always had more latitude to mistreat students than anyone else, particularly the ones they felt were slackers.  God alone knew how Jasmine would react to any hesitation on his part.

“Run on the spot,” Jasmine ordered.  She
still
hadn't stopped her push-ups, merely placed one hand behind her back so she was using only one hand to go up and down.  “It will warm you up.”

“Like this,” Kailee said.  “Do as I do.”

She started to run, lifting one leg then the other.  Gary’s eyes were drawn to her breasts, bouncing under her shirt, then looked away, embarrassed.  Someone like Barry could stare without any consequences, but a nerd like him would be mocked relentlessly for allowing himself to forget his place.  Instead, he started to run on the spot, feeling his heartbeat start to race as he pushed himself forward.  It sounded as though someone was letting off a gun inside his head.

Jasmine stood up in one smooth motion and looked at him, her dark eyes studying his body in a cold dispassionate manner.  He couldn't help thinking of the first doctor he’d visited, the asshole who’d made his mother sign all kinds of papers before agreeing to take a look at Gary.  Gary had read the papers later and, as far as he could tell, they indemnified the doctor for everything, up to and including a patient dying on the examination table.  Given how many students he knew who hadn't survived medical treatment, he had a feeling the doctors had needed such paperwork.