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"Okay, there it is," he said as the freighter appeared on his DeTect monitor. "Squadron One, you'll take the larboard side, and Squadron Two will go to starboard. Let them breathe vacuum."

* * *

Vejrezzol was pulled away from his study of the Almuth by an urgent com message from Gxidescu. As captain of the Gastropod since the takeover, he was noticeably excited.

"Your Excellency, a large number of small craft are approaching from the stern."

"What kind of small craft?"

"It can only be fighters, but we don't know where they came from. They just appeared on our DeTect screen."

"Obviously they must have come from a ship in space. They must be Space Command. Sound the alert. Launch all fighters and man our laser arrays. This is our moment. God will protect us as we protect ourselves."

"Yes, Excellency."

Vejrezzol jumped up from the desk in his quarters and hurried towards the bridge.

* * *

As the Raider fighter wing approached the Gastropod, they were able see the sides of containers being opened and laser arrays being extended.

"This is Death Dealer," Fowler said over the com. "They do have arrays. Scramble and show them how this game is played. Keep zigzagging until everyone in the main ship is dead."

"Roger Death Dealer. Squadron One taking the larboard."

"Squadron Two taking the starboard."

If the attacking fighter squadrons had been able to simply make a straight run at the Gastropod, the fight would have lasted only minutes. But since the fighters weren't armored, they couldn't afford to take a serious hit from even a low-power laser array. By zigzagging, they never gave the dissident defenders a chance to get a target lock, but it also prevented them from effectively targeting the Gastropod's main section.

As fighter after fighter passed the Gastropod and swung back for another pass, they strafed the main ship. Air was evacuating from hundreds of small holes by the time both squadrons had completed their first pass. Since they needed the main ship operational, they weren't permitted to use their rockets.

The Raider force was about to make a second run when the Gastropod's fighter squadron showed up. The three fighters that hadn't been shot to pieces at Loudescott and one with a continuing power problem engaged the Raider ships, but they were seriously overmatched. They gave it their best, but they all died in the attempt to knock down at least one Raider attacker.

With the way open, the Raider fighters again began making attack runs on the freighter. They still had to dodge the lasers and they kept a wary eye out for other fighters, but they were slowly making the main ship look like it was wrapped in Swiss cheese.

* * *

Alarms were sounding all over the Gastropod as anxious people who were already having difficulty breathing struggled into space suits. The space suits would save their lives, but they restricted movement to a barely acceptable level for the people who required free movement for fixing problems.

"Get the ship moving," Vejrezzol screamed at Gxidescu. "We're a sitting target here and our gunners can't seem to hit anything."

"Yes, Excellency," Gxidescu said, who then gave orders to the bridge crew.

The ten-kilometer-long ship didn't have the power of a warship. It was designed neither for fast maneuvering nor for quick escapes. As it turned towards open space, the engines strained to move the enormous mass.

* * *

"What now, Commander?" the Squadron One leader asked.

"Slow the attack but keep zigzagging. Their gunners haven't scored a single hit yet. If they start to build an envelope, target their generator to keep them at sub-light speeds. They just made our job ten times easier. By moving the ship away from the planet, we won’t have to worry about the Marines at North Pendleton coming up to investigate when we repair the ship later. We'll let them get far enough away and then continue our attack. We have plenty of time. The Hell Fire will close in when we need her."

* * *

"Status report," Vejrezzol said with some urgency. "What was that explosion?"

"They knocked out the temporal field generator with rockets when we tried to build an FTL envelope," Gxidescu said. "We're limited to sub-light speeds."

"Why haven't they attacked the ship with rockets before?"

"They may not be looking to kill us. They probably only want us to yield."

"Never," Vejrezzol screamed. "We will never surrender."

"Yes, Excellency. But the ship is depressurizing and we can't patch the holes while we're under full power."

"Have all non-essential personnel placed in stasis beds for their protection, then seal off the bridge section. All other oxygen reserves will be held for the EVA suits."

"Yes, Excellency."

"Why didn't the enemy simply approach with their ship and order us to yield if that's what they want?" Vejrezzol asked.

"Perhaps they believed we would fight and thought this to be an easier solution."

"But their ships are only fighters. They can't continue to follow us forever. They have limited fuel."

"Their mother ship must be tailing us even though it doesn't show on the DeTect screens."

"But they haven't even identified themselves yet. Are they Space Command or Nordakian Space Force?"

"We don't know, Excellency. If they don't identify themselves, we may not know until they board us."

"They won't board us!" Vejrezzol screamed. "We shall never surrender."

"It may be our only option. The main ship can't achieve FTL now and we don’t have any tugs that can tow us FTL because we used the entire ship budget to procure the six fighters. The enemy can disable our sub-light engines any time they wish. What are we to do?"

Standing, Vejrezzol said, "I shall pray for guidance. I won't believe God has deserted us. I shall be in my quarters."

* * *

"You're never going to believe this," Lt. Colonel Diminjik said to Major Garfield when he'd tracked him down. "I just received a message from Admiral Holt himself. He says that if I don't return those two fire teams to Commander Carver immediately, I'm going to be numeral uno on his shit list."

"Not much ambiguity there. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to order you to send that damn half squad back to her, not that she needs them."

"I'm on it. I'll have them on a MAT to Loudescott within the hour."

"Make it thirty minutes if you can, Pete. I have enough problems. I don't need the deca-sector area commander on my ass as well."

"Will do."

* * *

As the Marine Assault Transport arrived at Loudescott, the pilot called Sergeant Flegetti to the cockpit. When Flegetti arrived, he immediately noticed they were hovering three hundred meters AGL instead of setting down. MATs almost never hover because pilots are supposed to treat every LZ as hot.

"Flegetti, sir," he said to the pilot. "You wanted to see me."

"Any idea what's going on here Flegetti?"

"What do you mean sir?"

"Take a look down there." As Flegetti strained to see over the instrument panel, the pilot said, "There's no activity down there— at all. The living shelters have all burnt to the ground and some are still smoldering. There are blast craters scattered over the entire site, and those objects sprawled everywhere sure look like bodies to me."

"Yes, sir," Flegetti said somberly. "To me also."

The pilot increased power and the ship began to climb. "I'm taking us up to a safe altitude," he said. "Get your people into their armor and let me know when they're ready. We're going in fast in case there's a reception committee."

"Yes, sir," Flegetti said as he disappeared through the cockpit door.

Flegetti com'd the cockpit fifteen minutes later. When the pilot responded, he said, "We're suited and ready, sir."

"Roger. Strap in. We're going down."

A few seconds later, the MAT seemed to fall from the sky, but it was a controlled fall. As it neared the ground, the pilot pulled out of the dive and touched the craft down with hardly more than a slight bump. The Marines in the rear compartment were out the door and running towards the tunnel entrance as the dirt kicked up by the landing was still settling to the ground.

* * *

Lt. Colonel Diminjik tapped the com to take the call from Major Garfield and heard, "We just got a message from the pilot who took Carver's half-squad back to Loudescott. He says the site has been attacked and there are dead bodies all over the place. They seem to all be civilians, but Carver only had half a squad left after you pulled most of her people off for temporary redeployment, so the military dead would be limited. The pilot said the sergeant with the two returning fire teams reported that the facility is locked down and supposes the rest of the dig site people made it inside when the attack came. The dead were mostly killed by large caliber lattice weapons."

"Lattice? That means Raiders. Dear God. How many bodies, Pete?"

"The pilot estimates he could see about sixty from the air."

Diminjik hung his head sadly for a few seconds, then came alive with anger and said, "Pete, I want every fighter we have in the air as soon as possible. I want them to board that freighter in orbit and determine if it's responsible for this massacre."

"But we don’t have the authority to board a ship in space."

"Damn the authority. I'm declaring this a planet-wide emergency and invoking martial law. I want the ass of everyone involved with this slaughter, and I'm not particular how we get it. Understand? I'll worry about authority and protocols later. I'm gonna catch hell for this one way or the other, so I might as well go down swinging."

"Yes, sir. I understand. We'll find the people responsible."

Chapter Eighteen

~ October 25
^th
, 2285 ~

Christa set Madu up with a temporary ID that gave her privileges to perform searches into the sleeper database and save the results but that wouldn't permit her to awaken anyone.

"Roughly two hundred hits," Madu said, "on the parameters I entered.

"Only two hundred engineers out of thirty thousand sleepers?"

"No. I only searched for mechanical engineers who specialized in water systems and even omitted purification specialists. We're just interested in getting the water flowing, right?"

"Initially," Christa said. "But once it's flowing, we'll need people who can test it for potability."

"I made a list of the purification specialists as well."

"Okay, lets wake up a dozen of the engineers and get them working on the problem. I'm glad this stasis system of yours doesn't require extended time for recovery. Our people wouldn't be able to go to work for solars after a stasis sleep of just a few annuals."

"I hope that when our population is awakened we'll be able to show we have much to offer the Galactic Alliance if the GA can solve our sterility problem."

"That's my hope as well," Christa said.

A few hours later, the awakened sleepers had been examined by the medical people and then eaten a hearty meal before beginning efforts to find out why the water wasn't flowing in the facility. Christa was praying that with the enemy attackers waiting just outside the door the problem was not an external one.

* * *

"All non-essential personnel are now in stasis beds and the entire ship is depressurized except for the bridge and the officers quarters here at the center of the ship. The enemy fighters are no longer following us, Excellency," Gxidescu said when he reported to Vejrezzol.

"Did they turn around and return to the planet?"

"No, they just halted and remained where they were. We watched until we traveled beyond a point where the DeTect system could see them."

"Halted? Why?" Vejrezzol asked.

"My best guess is that they're waiting for their ship to come pick them up."

"Then change course immediately while they can't see us."

"Yes, Excellency."

* * *

Since the entire planet was placed under martial law, the protestors at the three warehouses melted into the population centers. The Marines had recorded images of everyone at the demonstrations, and, when the alert was over, the intelligence people would track down every last protestor to determine if they had any culpability for the massacre.

"No joy, Major," Captain Edward 'Shooter' Conlon said when his squadron had completed its search. "I don't know where she disappeared to, but I know she's not in orbit over this patch of dirt anymore."

"Roger, Shooter. Bring 'em home."

"What now?" Lieutenant Hollister asked. "Shooter was the last to report in. The cargo ship must have left orbit."

"That in itself makes it suspicious. They might have done what they intended and then bugged out. Send an announcement notifying all Space Command ships in the deca-sector to keep an eye out for that bucket. And be sure to tell them it might be heavily armed. Shit, I've got to report this to the old man now. He ain't gonna be happy."

* * *

"Commander, is the rumor true or not?" Dr. Peterson asked.

Christa had come up to the Housing level because the sentry there reported that the scientists were demanding to see her. She dreaded the meeting, but she went. And she could see no way of denying the question she knew would be put to her.

"Yes, Doctor. It seems that this planet is not unpopulated after all."

"You're telling us that someone has slept for twenty thousand years and been awakened successfully? That's extraordinary. We
must
be allowed to interview this person immediately."

"Doctor, we're not talking about an ancient artifact. We're talking about a living, breathing person. You don't get to
demand
an audience. The Ancient will make the decision whether to speak to you or not."

"Yes, yes, of course. I'm sorry, Commander. My enthusiasm got the better of me."

"Didn't we decide yesterday that you were going to be more careful with that enthusiasm of yours?"