Democracy's Might

Chapter Sixteen

“Sir,” the tactical officer said, “the fortresses have gone to rapid fire.”

Colin nodded, unsurprised. Whoever was in command of the defences wasn’t going to give up easily — and, without the arsenal ships, the odds were actually fairly even. Colin could disengage at any point, of course, but that would have left a determined enemy commander sitting on one victory and ready to support the Imperial Navy when it returned to the sector.

“Continue firing,” he ordered. So far, the fortresses had been damaged — but none of them had actually been destroyed completely. “Lock all weapons on the fortresses. Leave the remaining automated systems alone.”

He hesitated, then added a second command. “And repeat our surrender offer,” he added. “Someone might realise that they cannot hope to win the fight.”

The spy had been kept busy as soon as the fleet flickered away from the RV point, which was useful as it stopped her worrying about the command she’d inserted into the computer. But now, waiting for the superdreadnaught to be damaged so the damage control teams could spring into action, she found it all too easy to worry. It would be hard for someone to notice anything amiss in the heat of battle, but who knew what might be noticed when rebel analysts looked at the recordings after the battle. They would certainly want to analyse what had happened, if only to draw what lessons they could from the fighting.

She started as a hand touched her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” Crewman Nix told her. He was a fresh-faced young man, a imp mutineer rather than someone who’d joined up after the rebels had captured Camelot. And the spy knew he wanted to get her into bed. The signs were unmistakable. “If the ship is too badly damaged, the Captain will just jump us out.”

The spy nodded, reluctantly. It was her first battle, both in actual fact and by the papers she’d presented when she’d signed up. Not that the rebels had been very formal, thankfully; they certainly hadn’t tried to conduct any sort of background check. But then, that would have been impossible in the Beyond. All they could reasonably do was speak to people who had known her as an engineer, none of whom had any reason to suspect her of anything beyond price-gouging.

She eyed Nix as he turned away to reassure others. If she took him to bed — or, rather, allowed him to take her to bed — would it gain her anything she wanted? Nix might be enthusiastic, but he hadn’t been promoted. And that suggested he really wasn’t likely to be promoted. She knew she could seduce him — and leave him thinking that he’d seduced her — but would it be worth the effort?

The thought kept her from thinking about the command network. Now, with the ship heavily involved in battle, a signal would be sent from the superdreadnaught to any Imperial Intelligence listening post that happened to be in the system. Tyson was an important system, the spy knew, even if it wasn’t anything like as important as Morrison. There would be a listening post, she was sure, and the message would be passed on to the local office. She knew the rough time the rebel fleet intended to arrive at Morrison…

And, if she was lucky, there would be a chance to pass more precise messages to her superiors later.

The superdreadnaught rocked, violently. Alarms sounded, only to be stilled a moment later as the sensors realised that there was no actual damage. But it was only a matter of time.

“Admiral Nelson is taking heavy fire,” the tactical officer reported. “They’re actually focusing their attention on her.”

Colin lifted an eyebrow. Could the enemy think that they’d located the command ship?

“Move her back, then alter the screen’s positioning to provide additional cover,” Colin ordered, dismissing the thought for later contemplation. They’d taken every precaution to prevent the enemy from identifying the command ship — and they seemed to have succeeded, given that the enemy had targeted the wrong ship. Or had they merely picked a superdreadnaught at random?

He settled back and watched as the two sides converged. It would all be over soon.

Ravi swore under her breath as she watched another flight of missiles fall to rebel point defence fire. The bastards had definitely improved, even though her sensors insisted that there were no significant improvements to their active sensors. But that didn’t prove anything. Missiles were easy to track in flight, even half-blind passive sensors would be able to track them and provide a targeting lock for point defence. And her own point defence was being worn down quite badly…

The station rocked violently as four more missiles slammed against the weakened shields. Two more shield generators burned out, forcing the crews to move the others to shield the entire hull. But the weakening shields would be easy to detect; scenting weakness, the rebel missiles altered course, bearing down on her fortress and slamming into her shields. New alarms sounded as the shields staggered under their blows, then failed completely. The remainder of the defences weren’t in much better state.

Ravi looked up at the display, then made up her mind. “Cease fire,” she ordered. “Order the starships to make their way out of the gravity well and flicker out, then raise the rebels and tell them we want to surrender.”

It was frighteningly easy to imagine that the rebels would be no longer willing to accept surrender. Two enemy superdreadnaughts had been badly hit, while several smaller craft had been destroyed outright. She’d lost more, naturally, but she’d still given them a bloody nose. And there were too many Imperial Navy commanders who would have gleefully destroyed her stations just to avenge his hurt pride…

“They’re holding fire,” the tactical officer said.

“Picking up a signal,” the communications officer added.

Ravi let out a long breath. “Put them though,” she ordered.

A grim-faced young man appeared on the screen. Ravi couldn’t help noticing that Colin Walker seemed to have aged, although his blue eyes were as cold as they had seemed in his official file. He wore a white uniform that seemed oddly familiar; it took her several moments to realise that it was an Imperial Navy uniform, just cut from white cloth instead of blue or black. A gesture of defiance or continuity, she asked herself. There was no way to know.

“I am Admiral Walker,” he said. Ravi fought down the urge to point out that self-promotion was no promotion. If nothing else, Walker had won his spurs in combat. “Do I understand that you wish to surrender?”

Ravi nodded, hoping that they would be offered the original terms.

“My Marines will board your fortresses,” Walker informed her. “You and your crews are ordered to unlock any security protocols, then refrain from wiping your computer cores and destroying your supplies. Any attempt to do so — or to offer armed resistance to my men — will be viewed as restarting hostilities. Do you understand me?”

I still gave you a bloody nose, you prick, Ravi thought.

She felt a cold wave of anger, which she fought down. The supplies stored in orbit around Tyson would keep the rebels going for several weeks, if they were allowed to take them intact. She could destroy them — charges were already rigged — but they’d slaughter her crews if she did. And yet… leaving them intact might cost the Imperial Navy the next battle, when the rebels turned them against the Empire.

But she had no choice.

“I do,” she said, aloud. The rebels would have to take the supplies from the orbital supply dumps, but that wouldn’t delay them for more than a few days at most. “What will happen to my officers and men?”

“They will be interned or returned to the Empire,” Walker said. “If any of them wish to join us, they may do so. Again, however, we cannot tolerate resistance while we board your faculties.”

He paused. “Speaking of which, are you surrendering the planet as well?”

“I believe the planet will surrender shortly,” Ravi said. Tyson was well-defended, but an exchange of fire with the rebel fleet would be absolutely disastrous. It was why most PDCs and naval facilities were built on uninhabited worlds. “If you wish, I will ask them to do so, although they are not under my direct command.”

“I understand,” Walker said. “For the moment, I suggest you prepare to receive boarders.”

“It’s bigger than the last one,” Sidney commented, as the shuttle approached the giant orbital fortress. “Much bigger.”

The fortress was larger than anything he had ever imagined, apart from an asteroid settlement — and those were really hollow asteroids, not something built from scratch. It’s colossal hull was pitted and scarred, large gashes torn into the structure that revealed decks and machines beyond his comprehension. The shuttle suddenly felt very small against the fortress; the suit’s systems, linked into the shuttle’s sensors, reported that there were bodies drifting through space, blown out of the structure by escaping air. Faint lights glittered inside the darkness, some of them reminding him of the moment the Imperial Marines had attacked the asteroid.

“Same rules as before,” the Sergeant snapped. “But remember, this place is not safe. We can’t secure anyone until we make sure the atmosphere will stay in the remainder of the hulk, no matter how paranoid we feel. Watch your backs, confiscate all weapons… and try to avoid using lethal force. Do you understand me?”

“But these are imps,” someone protested, from the rear of the shuttle. “They attacked us and…”

“You will treat them with respect because you have been ordered to do so,” the Sergeant growled. “If I have to remonstrate with any of you over prisoner mistreatment, you will regret it for the rest of a very short and miserable life. I don’t care what you think these poor bastards have done to you. You will be calm, professional and respectful, as long as they behave themselves. If they don’t, you can give them hell.”

The shuttle rocked as it slipped into the hulk and settled down on the torn deck. Sidney checked his mask, then followed the Sergeant out into the giant fortress. The entire compartment looked badly mangled, torn and melted metal everywhere. He was silently grateful that he couldn’t see any bodies. If a nuke had gone off inside the structure, he realised, as the Sergeant led them towards the closest active airlock, the metal would have survived, but the crew would have been utterly vaporised. He was surprised that the gravity generator was still functional.

“It’s probably helping to hold the fortress together,” the Sergeant grunted, when he said that out loud. “These structures are tough, but not that tough.”

Sidney nodded, remembering what he’d been told about internal compensators. Sometimes they had difficulty compensating for sudden shifts, which was why starships shuddered when they were struck by missiles. But if the compensators failed altogether, the crew would be smashed to paste before they had the slightest idea what of what was about to hit them. The airlock was sealed, he realised, as they stopped in front of it. After a moment of fiddling, they managed to open the hatch and step through, three at a time.

Inside, the sensors blinked up alerts at once. The station was definitely badly damaged; the air was starting to foul alarmingly quickly. Life support was usually the last thing to go, even given the Empire’s dismal maintenance record. But the system probably wasn’t designed to stand up to such a heavy battering.

He gripped his rifle tightly as he saw the first Imperial Navy crewmen. The officers and men he’d encountered on the last station had been relieved, to some extent, that their war was over and done with. Once they’d realised that they weren’t going to be shot on the spot, their relief had almost been palatable. Sidney had been torn between irritation that they were going to get away with being enemy officers and relief himself, relief that they hadn’t tried to fight.

But this group were different. There was clear resentment in their eyes, suggesting that they’d actually liked and admired their commanding officer. None of them were carrying weapons, as far as Sidney was able to tell, but the hatred in their eyes worried him. It might lead them to do something stupid.

And we’re not even allowed to bind their hands, he thought, sourly. They could try to jump us the moment we turn our backs.

He spoke through the suit’s voder. “Please remain calm, then wait for collection,” he ordered, finally. “You will be taken off the station as soon as possible.”

“We may have to transfer the crewmen to the planet’s surface,” the communications officer said. “There’s a lot of them.”

Colin nodded, sourly. Fortresses tended to take thousands of crewmen, even if they were simpler than starships. But it was just another logistics problem, one made easier by having captured the shuttles on the surface. Unless, of course, the crewmen could be convinced to join the rebellion… and yet, that seemed unlikely. They’d been treated well, competently led and they’d given the rebels a beating even if they’d lost. In many ways, they were as good as the forces he led.

Lucky they didn’t have superdreadnaughts, he thought. We might have come out worse.

He smiled. “Has there been any reply from the planet?”

“The planetary council is demanding guarantees for the safety of their property and investments,” the communications officer said. “What would you like me to tell them?”

Colin snorted. At a guess, the planetary council thought that it could keep its position, even the investments from the Thousand Families, despite losing to the rebels. It was clever of them to try, he had to admit, but it wasn’t going to get them anywhere. The planet’s inhabitants could sort out who got what afterwards.

“Tell them that we will guarantee their own personal safety, but nothing else,” he said. “And if they don’t surrender the planet, we will take it by force.”

There was a pause. “They would like to report the existence of supplies on the surface,” the communications officer said. “If we protect them, they will tell us where to find the supplies.”

“Tell them that Marines will be on the way as soon as they are cleared to fly through their airspace without being shot at,” he ordered. “But make it clear that I want that acknowledged before we provide any protection.”

He gritted his teeth. The planetary defenders should know that they were in a hopeless position, but if they had no real experience or training they might figure they could still stand off the rebel fleet. If worst came to worst, Colin would blast the planetary defences from orbit, then mine the high orbitals, isolating the planet from the Empire.

“Admiral,” the sensor officer said, suddenly. “We just picked up two departing flicker signatures.”

Colin looked over at the display. From the size, he guessed they were courier boats — probably heading back towards Morrison. They’d be pushing the speed limits all the way.

“Have the enemy CO brought to this ship so we can ask her,” he ordered. It was possible that there was an enemy fleet within striking range, although if that was the case they’d missed their best shot at a decisive victory. “Then alter the fleet’s formation — Tango-Charlie, I think.”

The communications officer looked up. “The planetary government has surrendered,” he said. “They’ve confirmed that the Marines are granted passage through their airspace.”

There was a pause. “I think they actually want the Marines to hurry,” he added. “I’m picking up some chatter about mob riots and crowds gathering in uncomfortable places.”

Colin sighed. “Dispatch the Marines,” he ordered. “Tell them to safeguard the planetary council, either by securing their property or providing emergency evacuation., whatever seems best to the officer on the ground. And keep me informed.”

He sat back in his command chair, watching as the fleet slipped into its new formation. It had been a close-run thing, closer than he cared to admit. If the enemy CO had had more starships or superdreadnaughts under her command, Colin’s forces could have been seriously hurt. As it was, he would need to spend a few days repairing the damaged Admiral Nelson before they could resume the advance. The imps had definitely won some time, even if they’d won nothing else.

There was a chime. “Sir, the officers and crewmen from the fortresses have been evacuated onto the holding freighters,” the communications officer said. “The Marines are being redeployed to assist the advance teams on the ground.”

Colin allowed himself a moment of relief. There had been several near-incidents on the fortresses — and they could easily have turned into bloodbaths. He knew the enemy would have taken the brunt of it, but he still didn’t like the thought. A shooting could easily become an unprovoked massacre once Public Information got their hands on it. He rolled his eyes a moment later. They’d probably already started making up stories out of whole cloth.

“Admiral, the Marines escorting Admiral Lanai are returning to the ship,” the communications officer said. “How do you wish her to be treated?”

“Decently,” Colin said. He didn’t know Admiral Lanai. That could be good or very bad. “Find her a secure cabin, assign her a pair of Marines as guards. Make sure they know she is to be protected, unless she does something stupid. I’ll speak to her as soon as I can.”

“Yes, sir,” the communications officer said.

Colin settled back in his chair and tried to project an air of calm. The Marines were heading down to the planet now… and half of them were barely worthy of the title. It was all too easy to imagine what could go wrong…