Vanguard

Chapter 13

Carmen stopped at the door to her room, tired out from another long day of pretending to be an unofficial representative sent from Old Earth to save the new colonies. She wondered at what point a false story became real because enough people believed in it.

But, tired as she was, Carmen went to check on Lochan Nakamura.

He was still up, blinking wearily at her. “Hi. Is everything okay?”

“Close enough,” Carmen said. “Why are you still awake?”

“Going over everything we could find out about Warrior Class destroyers from the databases on Kosatka. I’m not the only person who’s been doing that since the news came in from Lares and apparently the same guys tried to do the same to Kosatka.” Lochan waved her to a seat, shaking his head. “You won’t believe one of the theories that’s going around.”

Carmen sat down on the couch, yawning. “Try me.”

“Did you know that in the later phases of testing the jump drives ships were sent out on long voyages? Multistar jumps as far as they could go before they had to turn back for fuel and food.” Lochan gave her a look that conveyed he was telling her the truth. “Two of the ships sent out were Warrior Class destroyers. One of those came back. The other one, which should have jumped to stars in this general region of space, disappeared. It never returned, so eventually the ship was written off as having been lost in an accident. But there isn’t any record of wreckage having been found drifting in any star systems or on any planets.”

“So it got stuck in jump space? That’s awful. What does that—” Carmen stared at him. “Are you serious? People think it’s a ghost ship?”

“No,” Lochan said. “The theory being floated is that the ship was captured by aliens, and now they’re using it to hit human colonies encroaching on their space.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. “The intelligent aliens we still haven’t found any trace of? They are out here, still unseen, and using an old human warship to attack us? Wouldn’t they have ships of their own?”

“Presumably,” Lochan said. “But if they are hiding from us, using one of our own ships would maintain their secrecy.” He raised a restraining palm toward Carmen. “I’m not believing this. I’m just telling you what other people are saying. But it’s impossible to refute at this point because the mystery ship didn’t communicate at all, and of course we couldn’t see inside it to see who the crew was.”

Carmen leaned back on the sofa, gazing at the ceiling. “That would be comforting, wouldn’t it? The idea that the perpetrators of the atrocity at Lares weren’t human. Unfortunately, humans have proven themselves capable of worse things than what happened at Lares. And Glenlyon has also been attacked, in their case undeniably by another human-colonized star system.”

“Yeah, but why would Scatha have hit star systems this far from it? Apulu isn’t that far off, and that Red you captured thinks the ones who hired her might have been from Apulu. If it was humans, Apulu is our number one suspect. That would make two human-colonized star systems out here that are making trouble for their neighbors.”

“Kosatka wants me to accompany a delegation heading to Earth,” Carmen said. “There is a ship here that we can hop a ride on, then get further transportation as we go up toward the Old Colonies. They want to make sure we get the best deal we can on some former Earth Fleet warships.”

Lochan looked at her in surprise, then nodded. “I can understand that. Are you going?”

“Yes. How do you feel about that?”

“Hell, Carmen, why do I have a say?”

“Because we’re a team,” Carmen said. “We’ve been a team here on Kosatka, and we’ve done a good job as a team. But Kosatka would like you to stay here while I go back.”

“You can handle Earth, can’t you?” Lochan asked. “I’ll take care of Kosatka until you get back. Besides, it’s about time for another younger woman to show up, tell me I make a great friend, and shove a weapon into my hand.”

“Aren’t you afraid that the commander of Glenlyon’s ground forces wouldn’t like that?” Carmen teased, relieved that Lochan would be all right with her being gone for a while.

“Mele Darcy?” Lochan laughed. “Wasn’t that amazing news? No, I’m lucky to have Mele as a friend, and I just hope she’s not taking on too much for her. You get back to Earth long enough to make sure Kosatka gets its hands on some decent firepower, then come back here and we’ll continue trying to save the galaxy.”

“I’ll watch out for aliens,” Carmen said.

Mele Darcy had long ago given up on the idea of sleeping through the night. But it was still irritating to be rousted from sleep after midnight for a very important errand. Much worse was how little she wanted to carry out this particular errand.

Lieutenant Rob Geary wasn’t at the apartment listed as his address, which didn’t surprise Mele. She suspected that Rob Geary hadn’t spent very much time in that apartment since being roped into command of Squall. Mele called up her official net interface, entered his locator code, then plugged it into the ground vehicle she was using.

The vehicle stopped at an apartment complex. Mele got out, walked through the predawn stillness to the entry of the building, then followed the locator to Ninja’s address. She leaned on the doorbell.

It took a few minutes before a bleary-eyed Ninja stuck her head out. “This had better be important.”

“It is. Lieutenant Geary needs to get moving, fast.”

“Why are you telling me?”

“Don’t be cute, girlfriend. You forgot to hack his locator. It says he’s here.”

Ninja sighed, nodded, and retreated. Mele waited impatiently until Rob Geary appeared at the door, showing every sign of having dressed rapidly. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Big trouble has arrived in-system,” she said. “The council didn’t want to send word to you over the comm net because of worries about snoops. You’re needed on your ship. I’ll brief you on the way to the shuttle pad.”

“Big trouble?” Rob Geary said.

“Yeah.” Mele glanced toward Ninja. “Make it a proper good-bye.”

He had some idea of what that implied, gazing at Mele for a long moment before turning to Ninja and holding her while he whispered in her ear.

“Take care of yourself,” Ninja said. She and Rob Geary kissed, while Mele looked away and tried not to count the seconds ticking by.

Farewells over, Rob followed Mele into the ground vehicle. She punched in the destination, then sat back, her eyes scanning the outside as the vehicle rolled through streets almost deserted at this hour.

“Why did they send you?” Rob asked her.

Mele didn’t take her eyes off the outside as she answered. “Based on the news you brought back from Kosatka, the council is worried that Scatha has slipped an assassin or two into Glenlyon. I’m your escort to the shuttle in the military sense as well as the guide sense.”

“How bad is this?”

She appreciated that he didn’t waste time worrying about a possible assassin threat that she was already handling. “Two more ships showed up four and a half hours ago at one of the jump points. One is a freighter. The other is a warship. They’re not broadcasting ID, but the warship matches one in the Scatha databases we’ve captured. It’s a Sword Class destroyer.”

“A destroyer?” Rob didn’t sound happy. “What are my orders? Did they tell you?”

“Intercept and stop by any means necessary.” This time Mele did look away from the outside for a moment, catching his eye to reinforce her words. “The council is worried about what happened at Lares. They don’t want it happening here.”

“Intercept and stop?” Rob Geary laughed softly, but he didn’t sound amused. “I can intercept, probably, but how the hell do I stop him? A Sword Class destroyer outguns and can outmaneuver the Squall. How do I beat a ship that is quicker and tougher than my own?”

Mele shrugged. “If you can’t outgun them or outmaneuver them, then you have to outthink them.”

“Sure. How do I do that?”

“Sorry,” Mele said, not happy to be passing on such difficult orders to someone as decent as Rob Geary. “I mean that. I have no idea. Space combat is way outside my skill range. I’m sending some of my people up with you in case you get any boarding action. Grant Duncan’s in charge. He’s the best I can give you.”

“Thanks.” Rob Geary stayed quiet for a little while as the vehicle rolled closer to the shuttle pad and silent, mostly dark buildings went by on either side. Mele kept her eyes on the passing structures and the streets. She had no idea who had thought of programming the heavy-construction designs to reflect a variety of architectural styles, but the result was that even though every brand-new building still looked brand-new, the overall impression of the city was of some age, as if it had been built over time as styles changed. Her gaze lingered on one building, imagining what would happen to it if a rock dropped from orbit by the Scatha warship impacted on that site.

“Mele?” Rob said abruptly. “Would you do me a favor?”

“Probably,” she said. “Depends what it is, though.”

“Keep an eye on Ninja for me. All right?”

“Sure,” Mele agreed. “But whether she stays safe will be mostly up to your stopping that destroyer. I can’t stop an orbital bombardment.”

“I’ll stop it,” Rob said, looking out the window of the car, the three words sounding like a vow. “But… stopping it might cost a lot. If it does… please keep an eye on Ninja for me.”

“Sure,” Mele repeated, trying to put the same sense of a solemn oath into the word. “I keep promises to my battle mates. I’ll make sure she’s looked after. I’m glad you figured it out in time.”

“Figured what out?”

“Figured who out. Ninja. You two make a good pair.”

Rob paused before answering. “I’ve known that for longer than I admitted to it. Isn’t it funny how someone can be right there, and you don’t realize it, and suddenly it hits you like a ten-kilometer-wide asteroid?”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Mele said as the vehicle rolled up to the new security gate around the shuttle pad.

“It’s never happened to you?” Rob Geary asked.

She thought he sounded a little sad at the idea, which was a little annoying, but Mele smiled back anyway. “Nope. Maybe someday. I’m not looking for it.”

“Neither was I,” Rob said as Mele checked them through security. “At least Ninja and I had the last few weeks.”

She walked him the last steps to the shuttle. Council Member Leigh Camagan was waiting beside the entry ramp. “Lieutenant Geary. Have you been told the situation by Major Darcy?”

“Yes,” Rob Geary said.

“You have to stop them,” Leigh Camagan said. “I hate to send you off with orders like that, but that destroyer cannot be allowed to reach orbit around this planet.”

“Is the council aware of what stopping that destroyer might require?” Rob asked, his voice taking on a brittle edge.

“Some of us are all too aware, Lieutenant Geary,” Leigh Camagan said, her voice breaking slightly at the last.

“Take care of yourself,” Mele told Rob, wondering if she would ever see him again. “You’re the first sailor I actually liked working with.”

“And you’re the first Marine I ever worked with who wasn’t a pain in the neck,” Rob replied.

“I’ll have to try harder,” Mele said. She could see his fatalistic mood and shook her head at him. “This isn’t a farewell. Do your job and get your tail back here in one piece, so Ninja can have her happily ever after. Or whatever it is that ninjas have. Hey, I’ve heard that the council wants its own hackers supporting you instead of hiring Ninja again because she’s supposed to be focused on supporting me.” Mele glanced at Leigh Camagan as she kept speaking to Rob. “I know that you’re a by-the-book guy, and would never do anything you’ve been told not to do, but if you need that support from Ninja, this is one of those times when the book has to accidentally get deleted.”

Rob Geary shook his head. “If the council knows that I went around their instructions—”

Leigh Camagan had turned away, but spoke in a clear voice. “I’m not hearing anything.”

“The council is sending you out to face a destroyer with your cutter,” Mele said. “I think you have the right to forget those particular instructions and improvise a little if you think you need Ninja at your back.” She stepped back and saluted. “Do your ancestors proud.”

“Same.” Rob returned the salute and walked onto the shuttle.

Mele stood by Leigh Camagan as the shuttle lifted. The council member sighed. “Major Darcy, I have orders for you as well.”

“I was worried about that,” Mele said, watching the shape of the shuttle dwindle as it rose toward the stars.

“You know the odds that Lieutenant Geary will be facing. No matter how well he does, it may not be good enough to stop that freighter and destroy that warship. Scatha’s base must be captured before new soldiers and equipment can be landed.”

Mele bit her lip and looked at Leigh Camagan. “Does the council know how lucky we were on the first two operations? It won’t be that way if we have to hit that base head-on. We’ll lose people. Maybe a lot of people.”

“The council understands,” Leigh Camagan said in a low voice.

“I’ve got, what, a week to launch the attack? To make sure we control that base before the ships get here? And while the morale of Scatha’s forces at that base has been pretty low, they’ll have seen those ships arrive. They’ll know that help is on the way. All they have to do is hold out a little while longer.”

“Major, if I could give you another week, if I could give you a thousand more soldiers, I would. I can’t.”

Mele nodded. “At least you feel bad about it.”

“Can you do it?”

“I can try,” Mele said. “And hopefully not lose too many. Can you do me a favor?”

“If I can,” Leigh Camagan said.

“I promised to look after Ninja if Rob Geary didn’t come back. If I don’t make it back from attacking that base, I need someone to honor my promise.”

“I swear to you that I will,” Leigh Camagan said. “I hope with all my heart I won’t have to. It would be a cruel universe indeed if we sacrificed both you and Rob Geary to save Glenlyon.”

Mele gave a short, sharp bark of laughter. “The universe isn’t cruel. People are.”

She headed off toward her headquarters. There was a lot to do.

Rob Geary felt emotionally numb as the shuttle climbed toward orbit and a rendezvous with Squall. Given the situation he was facing and his orders, there was a more than even chance that this would be his last shuttle trip, and that his farewell to Ninja had been the last time he would be with her. He wished there had been time for a formal marriage commitment. Hasty, perhaps, after only a few weeks, but they had known each other longer than that. If only he hadn’t waited several weeks to listen to his heart rather than his head.

Which reminded him, ironically, of the times he had counseled young sailors to wait on marriage, that their hearts might be totally sincere and totally committed today but that time had a way of changing hearts sometimes, and that warnings from the head should be listened to. The sailors had always earnestly assured him that they understood that, but that this time was different. And, caught in the same sense that Ninja was the one and the only one, Rob couldn’t help also feeling that this time was different.

Certainly if his commitment to Ninja didn’t last, it would first and foremost be because he didn’t survive this mission.

But there were other people affected by his orders, and he had a responsibility to them. Rob shook himself out of his inner focus. He wasn’t alone on the shuttle. Twelve members of Squall’s crew also occupied seats, many of them new volunteers inspired by Rob’s “victory” at Kosatka and Mele Darcy’s strikes against Scatha’s base. And there were a half dozen men and women Rob didn’t recognize. All six carried weapons, either sidearms or short-barreled rifles.

“Sergeant Grant Duncan,” one of the men introduced himself when Rob looked his way.

“Major Darcy told me you were coming,” Rob said. “I’m glad to have all of you. Hopefully, your skills won’t be needed.”

Grant smiled but shrugged. “None of us have that much combat experience, Lieutenant, but we’ll do our best.”

A Sword Class destroyer carried a normal crew of sixty-four. It could carry more. With the half dozen soldiers that Mele Darcy had lent, Rob would have thirty-one aboard the Squall. “Major Darcy said you’re good, and given the success you ground fighters have had, I believe her. I’m afraid that the accommodations aboard Squall will be a little cramped, though, and the food isn’t the best given the limitations of the galley.”

“Is there coffee?”

“Yes, Sergeant, there’s coffee. No matter what else we may lack, Squall keeps a decent supply of that on hand. I won’t swear for the quality of it, but we do have quantity.”

“Then we’ll be good,” Grant assured him.

Once aboard Squall, Rob threw himself into ensuring that the ship was ready to go. The work kept him from thinking about Ninja and the last moments he had spent with her. There was enough food, the water tanks were full, the recyclers were functioning, and life support was just able to keep up with the burden of thirty-one adult humans inside a ship designed to normally carry a crew of twenty-two. Most of the new volunteers were enthusiastic even if they did have to work off various forms of Operating Instructions for Dummies as they learned their tasks.

As always, the weakest point was the power core. Rob had hoped that Corbin Torres would finally rise above his bitterness, but the veteran had remained on the surface. The engineering section would do its best but were painfully aware of their own lack of experience. And fuel cells were low. Without an orbital facility to manufacture new cells and with the problems one of the surface facilities had encountered getting fuel cell production ramped up, the ship had been running on what had been captured from Scatha. Whether Squall won or lost, there were only enough to get the ship through the next few weeks.

Everyone knew that a destroyer and a freighter from Scatha were on their way to the planet, but only Rob and Danielle Martel knew just how bad that made the odds against Squall.

“Let’s take it easy on the way out,” Rob told Danielle as he settled into the command seat on Squall’s bridge. “Aim for an intercept a light hour from the planet.”

“If we head out that slow, with Scatha’s force limited by the speed of that freighter, it’ll take five days,” Danielle Martel reported.

“That’s fine,” Rob said. “We’ve got a lot of new people doing new tasks and we can use the time for training. I also want to conserve fuel cells. We’re going to need them when we close to fight.”

“All departments report ready to get under way,” Danielle said.

Should he give a speech about the vital necessity of their mission and the need to win at all costs? No, Rob decided. Aside from his own awkwardness at such a thing, the need for an inspirational speech would be when they were about to engage in combat. Save it.

The intercept calculations had already been done, and the maneuvering systems awaited his command.

Rob punched the execute command and Squall swung about, accelerating away from the planet.

Late that afternoon ship’s time, Danielle Martel stopped by his stateroom, closing the hatch behind her and eyeing him soberly. “You’re good enough to know how tough our job is. How are we going to do this?”

“Get close enough for detailed information about the destroyer’s status, whether he has any weak shields,” Rob said, “or weapon systems that aren’t up to strength, and try to work around that.”

“Scatha has two destroyers and sent one,” Danielle pointed out. “That implies if either of those destroyers had any weaknesses, they sent the better one. They may even have cannibalized parts from the one that didn’t come to ensure the one that did is fully operational.”

“That had occurred to me,” Rob admitted. “What would Earth Fleet do?”

“We’d be still be working on checklists,” Danielle said. “Scatha’s force does have a vulnerability. That freighter. Unless he forgets his escort job and goes after us, the ability of the destroyer to maneuver will be limited by his need to protect the freighter.”

“That still leaves him a lot of room to play with,” Rob said. “I figure we’ll have to adjust each engagement to take advantage of whichever enemy ship makes the best target and try to wear them both down.”

“That might be our best bet,” Danielle admitted. “We don’t have any real good bets.”

Rob nodded. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“You can ask,” she said, wary.

“You and Drake Porter. He’s obviously interested. He’s stayed up on Squall with you while other crew members rotated down to the planet.”

“Drake is nice,” she said. “Yes, we’re, um, friendly. And since I lack any official status aboard Squall even though you’ve declared me an ensign, there aren’t any rank barriers involved. Are you worried about it?”

“No, not as long as you two stay professional on the bridge.”

Danielle nodded. “If it gets that serious, I’ll talk to Drake about his transferring to a shore job. I see you have a new picture,” she added, nodding toward Rob’s desk.

Rob glanced at the image of Ninja. “Yeah.”

“Does she understand the deal with this mission?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry.”

“We’ll beat them,” Rob said, not really believing it but trying to will it to happen.

“We’ll do our best,” Danielle agreed.

“Three days to get everything and everybody assembled,” Mele told Council President Chisholm. “One day to load the whole mess on all three WinGs and transport them to the vicinity of Scatha’s base. I’m planning on landing the assault force late on the fourth day, but these aren’t experienced Marines, and the WinGs aren’t combat assault vehicles with armor and defenses. We won’t be able to run off the vehicles and hit the base immediately. We’ll strike probably early the next day.”

Council Members Leigh Camagan, Kim, and Odom looked uncomfortable. Council President Chisholm simply looked unhappy. “That’s the fastest you can do it?”

“Yes,” Mele said. “The fastest way to do it halfway right. I could just throw people and equipment on the WinGs and hit Scatha’s base by the end of the second day, but if I do that it would mean taking something on the order of fifty percent casualties in the assault. We might be able to overwhelm Scatha anyway, but you’d have to be prepared for heavy losses.”

“I believe that we should defer to Major Darcy’s judgment,” Leigh Camagan urged.

“But surely we can move it up at least a day quicker,” Kim said.

“Fifty percent,” Odom emphasized. “Is a day quicker worth that? How many of that fifty percent would be dead as opposed to wounded?” he asked Mele.

“Since we only have light body armor that’s been recently manufactured,” Mele said, “and Scatha has some powerful weapons, it would probably be close to an even split. Twenty-five percent dead.”

“Thirty-eight or forty dead out of a total force of a hundred and fifty!” Odom said, glaring at Kim. “If Major Darcy isn’t being optimistic!”

“Major Darcy has proven her judgment with two highly successful actions,” Leigh Camagan said. “If she says she needs that time, she should be given it.”

“You regard four days as the necessary minimum?” Chisholm asked Mele.

Mele shook her head, feeling unhappy but determined to say the truth as she knew it. “The necessary minimum is something like a couple of months. We don’t have that. It’s going to cost us. I need four days to try to keep that cost down.”

“Why can’t we wait to see if Lieutenant Geary succeeds?” Odom asked. “If he does, the ground assault will not be necessary.”

“We cannot assume that Lieutenant Geary will succeed,” Chisholm said. “And if he does not, it very well could not leave enough time to launch the ground assault before Scatha’s reinforcements arrive.”

“Taking their base on our planet wouldn’t prevent Scatha’s warship from bombarding us in the same way Lares was devastated!”

“We’d have the population of their own base as hostages,” Leigh Camagan pointed out. “Perhaps Scatha wouldn’t care. But at that point, it would be the only tool left to us.”

“You have your four days,” Council President Chisholm told Mele. “Are you getting the necessary IT support?”

“Lyn Meltzer says Scatha has really clamped down on their transmissions,” Mele explained. “She doesn’t think she’ll be able to break in again in the time we have available, but she’s doing her best.”

“Ensure that she knows no other tasks should distract her from that assignment!” Chisholm ordered.

Mele glanced at Leigh Camagan, who gazed back at her with apparent bland ignorance on that topic. “I’ll make sure that Ninja knows what the council expects,” Mele said. “If you’ll excuse me now, I need to get things into motion.”

Three days remained until intercept, the long, curving tracks of Scatha’s ships and that of Squall still heading for that spot in space where they would meet. Rob took a break from drilling his crew to listen to a message from Ninja. Squall was already far enough from the planet that there were about twenty minutes of time delay, making a conversation very difficult but not impossible.

“I can’t find anything accessible,” Ninja said, looking drawn with fatigue and worry. “Scatha’s ships are locked tight again. Our consolidated sensor picture spotted some visual-spectrum lights blinking on one of the ships, so they’re probably using flashing lights to send simple messages back and forth. They’ll probably start transmitting once a fight starts, but that’ll be too late for me to break in and mess with anything. I’m so sorry. I love you, and I’d do anything to help, but there’s nothing I can do right now.”

He sent a reply, knowing that she wouldn’t see it until forty minutes after she had sent this message. “Ninja, I know you’re doing all you can. You gave Squall the best protection possible against intrusions, so we know we’re safe from Scatha pulling that on us. Do what you can to help Mele Darcy. I love you, too. Please take care of yourself. I can’t wait to see you when this is over.”

Rob went back to the drills, knowing that if there was any chance of him or anyone else on Squall seeing their loved ones again, it would take every trace of skill and luck they could muster.

Mele missed having Grant around to help with things. Obi had actually volunteered to help any way she could from the hospital bed where she was still confined, and the doctor had approved, saying the task and purpose would help Obi recover. But there was only so much a badly wounded woman could do from a hospital bed.

She promoted Riley fast, and what he lacked in experience he made up for in enthusiasm. Mele winnowed out the best one hundred and fifty volunteers from the slightly more than two hundred available, designating those left behind as the city defense garrison so they wouldn’t feel useless. Counting the pulse rifles acquired from Scatha’s soldiers and weapons being manufactured by facilities whose output had hastily changed, she now had more than one hundred rifles and pistols to equip her soldiers. Most of the weapons were slug throwers, but those had the advantage of simplicity and ease of use. And everyone had the light body armor, which was no match for battle armor but better than no armor at all.

She had twenty more mortars, this time intended for multiple shots, a few dozen chaff packs, and special portable mortars that might be needed.

Mele weighed her assets against the defenses and shook her head. Ninja had picked up indications of at least a few summary executions among Scatha’s forces, but Scatha still had around seventy soldiers, all equipped with obsolescent but still-effective armor and weapons. Those soldiers had stayed huddled inside their perimeter since Mele’s force had wiped out the patrol, which had prevented further chipping away at their numbers. The mortars that had come out to hit the area behind the hills were once again entrenched inside Scatha’s base, ready to bombard anyone approaching. And work had continued on getting the second Scatha warbird able to fly again.

Scatha’s base had not responded to any attempt by Glenlyon to negotiate, instead sending out one image, knowing it would be received. Spurlick had clearly taken a while to die. Despite her disdain for Spurlick, Mele had gazed at the image in cold fury at the sort of people who would torture enemies to death. Even though the government tried to censor the image, it still made its way around, generating anger in every part of Glenlyon. If the intent had been to discourage further attacks on Scatha’s base, it had backfired badly.

It wasn’t that long after the third day had ended, barely after midnight, when Mele’s force began embarking on the WinGs and loading equipment.

Squall would intercept Scatha’s ships around noon of this ship’s day. Rob Geary made sure he looked his best because sailors picked up on that kind of thing when they were looking for reassurance that their officers knew what they were doing. He made sure the galley served the best breakfast that it could. As the crew mustered, Rob ordered final checks on the survival suits that everyone would put on an hour before the intercept. If part of Squall was holed by enemy fire, with atmosphere escaping into space, the only thing the crew in the affected compartments would have to do was seal their head coverings.

There was all too strong a chance that even the bridge, as well protected as any compartment on the ship, would be pierced by charged particles from the destroyer’s pulse cannon.

Squall’s single lifeboat, which in theory could get survivors back to the planet, would barely hold everyone on the ship if they were packed in tightly. But everyone knew that if Squall had to be abandoned at least some of her crew would have died already. No one talked about it, but they knew it. Rob looked over the status on the lifeboat, all systems green, comforting himself with the knowledge that if it came to that no one would be barbaric enough to fire on a lifeboat full of survivors. Humanity had left that sort of atrocity behind.

He stopped by the two weapon stations, encouraging their crews, and went by engineering, where the team seemed more worried about the power core acting up than they did about whatever the enemy would do.

Rob ended up on the bridge. Everyone was already at battle stations before being called.

“One hour to intercept,” Danielle Martel said.

“Thank you.” Rob rubbed his face, inhaling slowly. The feel of the survival suit he wore reminded him with every movement of the worst that might happen. He shrugged off the foreboding, then tapped his controls to speak to everyone on the ship. “You all know that we’re facing a tough fight. You all know how important it is that we stop Scatha. I have no doubt that every single one of you will do their very best. We will defend our homes, we will defeat those who threaten them, and we will be victorious.”

Maybe it was just denial, or maybe an outright lie to claim that victory was certain, but the reaction of the crew told Rob that they needed to hear it. And, who knew? Belief had changed certain defeat into incredible victory before in history.

But hopefully luck would be on their side as well.

The biggest WinG and one of the smaller WinGs off-loaded north of Scatha’s base behind the foothills. The other smaller WinG dropped a contingent of Mele’s force to the south, in the open but out of range of Scatha’s mortars. She didn’t want Scatha to be able to focus all of its defenses to the north.

Mele had run into some problems organizing the smaller movements of people and equipment, but the difficulties seemed to have gone up at a steep rate as the numbers of both grew. Torn by frustration over the seeming inability of supposedly intelligent men and women to follow simple instructions, and haunted by anxiety over the outcome of the looming battle, Mele had to repeatedly restrain herself from giving her volunteers high-volume demonstrations of Marine profanity. She finally began to understand why the officers and senior enlisted she had dealt with in the past often seemed irritable and short-tempered.

None of which helped get her people into position with the equipment they needed. But eventually she got everything settled despite the sun’s setting and growing darkness.

Scatha’s base had remained silent throughout the off-loading. Mele’s biggest fear had been that Scatha’s soldiers would sally out to hit her small southern force while she was still trying to organize the northern force, but there had been no movement from the defenders. Having been badly stung twice by Mele’s forces, Scatha’s defenders didn’t appear inclined to take any chances. They were probably worried that the small force to the south was not simply a diversion but bait to lure them out into the open.

Studying the base through multispectrum binoculars, Mele could catch glimpses of defenders in the entrenchments. No trace of the civilians could be seen. She had worried that Scatha might herd the civilians, including children, into the entrenchments to further serve as human shields and prevent her attack, but that hadn’t happened.

Lowering the binoculars, Mele looked back down the slope. One of her new sergeants, Diego, dropped down beside her, gazing cautiously at the base. “Why aren’t we going to be attacking while it’s dark tonight?” he asked.

“It’s too easy for things to go wrong in the dark,” Mele explained. “Even with infrared gear, which we don’t have enough of. Look how confusing it was just unloading the WinGs. That’s why our attack will go in during the first traces of morning twilight, when it’s just becoming light enough to see.”

“Won’t that make us better targets for them?”

Mele remembered asking questions like that to long-suffering superiors. “Not really,” she half lied. “Scatha’s battle armor helmets have built in infrared, so they’d be able to spot us regardless.” That was true as far as it went, but it took good training to use IR gear well, and so far she had seen few signs of good training among Scatha’s soldiers. The lack of veterans out in the new colonies had hindered Glenlyon, but apparently it had also made things harder for Scatha.

“Pass the word to try to get some sleep,” Mele told Diego. “We’ll be rousing everyone at 0100 to prepare for the assault.”

Half an hour before Squall intercepted Scatha’s ships, Drake Porter called out to Rob Geary. “You’ve got a message. High priority, personal for you.”

Rob put on an ear set and tapped the privacy settings to limit the ability of anyone else to see whatever appeared on his display.

Ninja’s face appeared, rigid with that desperate attempt to look calm in someone who was actually terrified. “Rob, I know you’re too far off to respond. Not even sure you’ll get this in time. I’ve had no luck getting into Scatha’s ships. I… I know how bad this situation is. I’ve run simulations here and… I wanted you to know I understand what you’re doing and why, and hope you come back. I’m actually praying to my ancestors for that, can you believe it? But if you don’t, I wanted to be sure you knew that… well, that there are going to be people who have you for an ancestor. You and me. And they’ll know what you did and why. I’ll… I’ll make sure our kid knows and passes it on. So do your best, and if you don’t make it back, know our child will know who you were, and that I’ll be thinking of you always until I see you again in the light beyond the dark.”

Rob stared at the screen for a moment after the message ended, unable to process any thoughts, then tore his mind back to the present.

If he was ever going to see that child, he needed to focus on what was happening here.

“Was it something important?” Danielle Martel asked as Rob removed the headset.

“Yeah,” Rob said. “Very important.”

The two ships from Scatha had not altered their trajectory in response to the approach of Squall. Glenlyon’s sole warship was coming in from slightly below and to one side of Scatha’s. But the destroyer had shifted position so that as Squall came in she would have to first encounter the enemy warship before being able to fire upon Scatha’s freighter. If Squall took the time to reposition and come in from a markedly different vector, the destroyer could easily shift to block that new approach as well.

“What sort of tactics does Earth Fleet call for in this kind of situation?” Rob asked Danielle Martel.

“Use two warships in the attack,” she said.

“What if you don’t have two warships?”

“The tactics all call for two. That’s the only answer I’ve got,” she said. “Earth Fleet’s answer to the problem of how to do this with one ship is to say you should use two.”

Twenty minutes to contact. Rob confirmed that all of Squall’s shields were on maximum, both the grapeshot launcher and the pulse particle beam ready. But the shields of the destroyer were strong enough to shrug off the quick blows that the cutter could deal during a lightning-quick firing run, while the destroyer’s weapons had enough additional punch to have a chance of getting through Squall’s shields.

The freighter would be carrying reinforcements for Scatha’s ground forces and probably new heavy weapons. But the destroyer was capable of bombarding the planet.

“Lock weapons on the freighter,” Rob directed. “If we can damage it enough, Scatha will either have to withdraw, or the destroyer will have to reduce speed to a crawl to stay with it.”

Squall was coming in at point one light speed. Warships today could push double that. The destroyer and freighter were coming toward the planet, still a light hour distant, at point zero three light speed. Anything more than point zero six light speed introduced targeting problems that greatly reduced the chances of a hit.

“Reduce velocity to point zero three light speed,” Rob ordered.

Squall pivoted as her thrusters pushed her around, then her main propulsion unit lit off to begin cutting her velocity drastically. The inertial dampers whined in protest but did their job of preventing the forces employed from pulping frail human bodies.

“Revised time to contact, forty minutes,” Danielle Martel reported. She had no sooner said that than an alarm sounded. “The destroyer is accelerating. He must want to hit us before we finish braking our velocity.”

“Hold it as long as we can,” Rob ordered. The destroyer had been lured away from the freighter, but that still left it a serious threat. “Weapons, shift target to the destroyer, then back to the freighter as soon as we’ve engaged the warship.”

“We’re not going to maneuver?” Drake Porter asked. “Dodge?”

“Squall can’t dodge a destroyer,” Rob said. “We get in our best shot at it and keep going to hit the freighter before the destroyer can come back to hit us again.”

“The freighter is transmitting,” Drake reported.

“Probably asking the destroyer why it’s running off and leaving them,” Danielle commented. “Revised time to contact with destroyer is ten minutes. We’ll complete braking maneuver in eight minutes and pivot to face forward for contact.”

“Good,” Rob said, watching his display. In planetary terms, the destroyer was immensely far away. In space terms, it would be very far away one moment and very close the next before being far away again the moment after, the moment of close approach a tiny fraction of a second. “Input order to accelerate at nine minutes.”

“To what velocity?” Danielle asked.

“We’ll hold acceleration for thirty seconds, long enough for Squall to pick up appreciably more velocity, then cut off. If the destroyer reacts wrongly to our changes in speed and vector, that might mess up his ability to hit us. But we’ll still be slow enough to get good hits on that freighter.”

Squall’s main propulsion cut off, and the ship pivoted once more, bringing her bow to face the oncoming destroyer. “One minute to contact,” Danielle reported as Squall’s main propulsion suddenly cut in again, this time accelerating the ship rather than slowing it. “The destroyer is adjusting vector to compensate.”

Maneuvering systems had automatic safeguards built in to try to avoid collisions with enemy ships when conducting firing passes close enough for weapons to hit and hit hard. But at the velocities warships traveled that was an imprecise calculation, prone to error if either ship bobbled the slightest off its predicted track. Space battles could be very long as warships made repeated passes at each other with long periods to reposition in between, or very, very short as a pass ended in a collision that reduced both warships and their crews to a cloud of gas and dust.

Squall and the enemy destroyer tore past each other in far less than the blink of an eye, Squall shuddering from hits as she lined up on the freighter.

Rob saw damage reports pop up on his display. Bow shields had suffered spot failures as a rain of grapeshot slammed into them, and at least one pulse from the destroyer’s cannon had hit Squall. “Losing atmosphere, compartments sealed off, no critical systems hit, local reports say one dead,” Danielle reported. “No damage noted on the destroyer. His shields held.”

No damage to the enemy and one dead aboard Squall. Rob couldn’t spend any time wondering who in his crew had already died. “Make sure we get a good shot at that freighter!”

Squall adjusted course slightly as she came up from just below the freighter, closing the range to the minimum safe distance.

The freighter came and went, there and past, Squall jolting slightly as her weapons fired again. This time Squall took no damage since the freighter lacked weapons.

“Up two zero zero degrees, come right zero two degrees,” Rob ordered to bring Squall swinging through a wide arc to hit the freighter again. “Get me a damage report on that ship.”

“We lost some sensors on that encounter with the destroyer,” Danielle Martel said. “Getting an assessment now. We collapsed his shields on an after quarter. Significant damage. Unable to assess whether propulsion or thrusters were impacted.”

Far ahead, Scatha’s destroyer was looping about as well, though to the side and up, climbing to meet Squall as she dove back at the freighter. “If we hold planned vector,” Danielle cautioned, “the destroyer will hit us again right after we hit the freighter.”

“Weapons,” Rob commanded. “Target the freighter again. Try to recharge to hit the destroyer afterward, but only after throwing everything we can at the freighter.”

The minutes crawled by as the ships shot through space, covering huge distances as they strove to get close enough to each other again to shoot.

This time Squall went past the freighter from behind, overtaking it and having slightly longer to shoot. But before they could assess the results of that run, Scatha’s destroyer slashed past Squall from the side, the cutter bucking from more hits. “Come down zero zero three degrees, port two four zero degrees,” Rob ordered.

“We’ve lost a thruster,” Danielle reported. “Compensating. Coming around.”

Rob’s display popped up an assessment of the damage to the freighter. “Fifty percent loss of main propulsion, damage to entire stern section,” Rob said.

“He’s changing vector!” Danielle cried.

The freighter was lumbering into a turn that made the warships look like gazelles by comparison. “Any guesses?” Rob pressed her.

“He’s definitely turning off the vector for the planet… still coming around. I think he’s running.”

But he would only keep running as long as Squall kept after him, Rob knew. How long could he keep that up, with the destroyer swinging back for another attack on Squall?

“Lieutenant?” Sergeant Grant Duncan’s face wasn’t visible on Rob’s display, but his voice held the rigid calm of someone who was holding back fear. “That last shot took out the lifeboat.”

Rob checked his status screen, seeing the red marker blinking there. “It’s gone?”

“No, most of it is still there, but there’s a big hole through it. I plugged in and got status on nothing except the escape jet. Every life support system and control system on the pod is showing negative.”

“I’m showing damage to the lifeboat,” Danielle reported. “A shot from the destroyer went through its bay.”

Rob fought off the urge to slump in despair. The odds of surviving this fight had been bad to begin with. Even though he had temporarily turned back the freighter, the destroyer was unmarked and coming back again.

And now, thanks to sheer bad luck that had led a shot from the destroyer through the lifeboat nestled inside the hull of Squall, there was no way for anyone on Squall to survive if the battle was lost.