Into the Darkness: Crimson Worlds Refugees I (21 page)

“Admiral Hurley, this is Commander Cortez. As you know, Admiral Compton went down to the surface of planet four with the Marines and the research teams.”

“Yes, I know. What is it?”

“We’ve got a crisis up here. Half the fleet is trying to break off so they can look for a route home. They’ve got their guns trained on the refinery. And we’ve lost contact with the admiral. There is some kind of jamming blocking our communications.”

“Jamming from the mutineers?” Hurley didn’t pull punches, and she had no patience for anyone disobeying Compton or rebelling against his authority.

“No, Admiral. We don’t think so. It looks like First Imperium jamming.” Cortez paused for a second. “Ah…we wanted to request that you put together a team and send them to planet four to see if they can find Admiral Compton.”

“I’m on it, Commander. Do what you have to do to keep things together here. I’ll go get the Admiral myself.”

Cortez exhaled sharply. “Thank you, Admiral Hurley.”

He flipped the com back to Captain Horace’s line on the main bridge. “Admiral Hurley is leading a mission to planet four to find the admiral.” Cortez hesitated. “So what do we do in the meanwhile?”

“We stay calm, Commander.” Erica West stepped out of the lift and walked across the bridge. “And we handle the crisis…until Admiral Compton returns to reassume command.”

West was a veteran task force commander who had been wounded in the fighting against the First Imperium. She’d spent the first half of the fleet’s daring escape in the hospital, and Compton had kept her on
Midway
after, not because of lack of confidence in her but simply because he was hesitant to assign yet another Alliance officer to a major command. But now she was fit and ready for action…and with Compton on planet four and Dumont in system X20, she was in the right place at the right time. And she was the next ranking Alliance officer in the fleet.

“Ah…yes, Admiral West…” Cortez was on edge, not sure what to do. He knew West was a fighter, not likely to simply sit and wait for Compton to return.

The admiral stood for a few seconds, staring down at Compton’s chair. Then she sat down abruptly. “Order all Alliance ships to battlestations, Commander Cortez,” she said grimly. “And Captain Horace is to bring the engines up to 5g.”

“Yes, Admiral.” He paused, quickly adapting to the new command authority. “Where are we going?”

“Planet five, Commander,” she said with a feral edge to her voice. “Right in between
Petersburg
and the refinery.”

*  *  *

“Admiral,
Midway
is moving toward us rapidly.” Stanovich turned from his workstation and looked across the flag bridge at Udinov.

“Send a communique. Advise that she is to stop immediately or we will open fire on the refinery.” Udinov wasn’t sure if that was a serious threat or a bluff. He wanted to effect his withdrawal, but if he was pushed to the point of giving the order to fire, he didn’t know if he would do it or not. Destroying the facility wouldn’t accomplish anything. The vengeful Alliance spacers would attack his vessels in response. The Russian admiral knew his faction wasn’t really a match for the Alliance-led remainder of the fleet, but it was substantial enough to put up a good fight. He didn’t doubt
Petersburg
would attract more than its share of fire, which made his own survival prospects highly questionable. Not that it would matter who won. If the fleet fought its own civil war there wouldn’t be enough left on either side to survive.

“Yes, Admiral.”

Udinov watched the monitors as the large blue oval representing
Midway
moved closer.
Petersburg
was no match for the Alliance’s
Yorktown
class monster. He might blow the refinery to plasma, but the Alliance flagship would blast his vessel to slag the moment he did.

“Response coming in, sir.”

“Put it on my com.”
I’m not sure I want everyone else to hear this
.

“
Petersburg
, you are hereby commanded to move away from the planet and out of weapons range of the refinery. You are under the legal and duly authorized command of the Grand Pact and subject to the orders and directives of that entity’s chosen commander, Admiral Terrance Compton. In his name, I repeat my order. Power down your weapons and move away from the planet. Your request to leave the fleet is denied. Failure to obey these orders will result in the destruction of
Petersburg
…and any other vessel threatening the refinery or attempting to leave the system. Admiral Erica West out.”

Fuck
, Udinov thought to himself.
West is a fighter, a protégé of Augustus Garret himself
. Garret and Compton were both military geniuses, but of the two Compton had always been the more patient. West had served mostly under the more aggressive Garret, and if anything, she had built a reputation of being even colder and harder than her famous mentor.

“Get her back on the line,” Udinov snapped.

The com officer worked at his controls. “I’m sorry, sir, but
Midway
is not responding.”

“Fuck.” Udinov let the word slip out despite his attempt to stop himself.
The crew doesn’t need to know you’re in over your head here
. The situation was rapidly deteriorating. It had seemed simple, made perfect sense in planning. A few hours of tense standoff while the last of his ships refueled, and then they would be gone, on the way to search for a route home. Now he was on the verge of combat with his allies—and he had no idea how his ramshackle coalition of forces would respond if it came to a fight. They wanted to find a way home, but were they ready to battle against the Alliance forces and the other contingents if it came to that?

He turned toward the communications officer. “Put me on fleetwide com, no encryption.”
I can’t make her listen, but I can put on a show for the rest of the fleet
. “Attention Admiral West. This is Admiral Vladimir Udinov. I do not contest your acting command of the Alliance contingent, but I cannot recognize your claim to command the entire fleet. There are other admirals with the same rank and greater seniority in the various national forces, and these officers—including myself—have a greater claim to succeed Admiral Compton in his absence. I also stand by the decision of the RIC, Europan, CAC, and Caliphate contingents to split off from the fleet. You have no authority to contest this action, and I insist that you halt your aggressive maneuvers and allow the seceding ships to continue refueling operations without your unauthorized interference.”

He moved his hand across his throat, and the com officer cut the line.
There
, he thought.
That’s the best I can do
. He felt a pit in his stomach.
But Erica West isn’t going to back down…

*  *  *

“I want you to get some thrust out of those fucking pieces of shit, and I do mean now.” Greta Hurley’s voice was like ice. She stared straight ahead, watching Commander Wilder at the controls as she harangued the pilot and crew of the two armored shuttles accompanying her squadrons. She was worried about Compton, and she knew every wasted second could be the difference between a successful rescue and a terrible tragedy. She realized there were nearly a thousand Marines on the planet, but it wasn’t a full invasion force, and if they’d run into any serious First Imperium forces things could be a mess.

“Admiral Hurley, we’re at full thrust now. No matter what we do, the shuttles are never going to be able to keep up with your fighters.” The pilot’s voice was tense, stressed. The fighter crews in the fleet were used to their hard-driving commander by now, but the shuttle pilot was still adjusting to Hurley’s aggressive command style.

“Do the best you can, Lieutenant.” She pulled back slightly. Driving the pilot to a breakdown wasn’t going to help move things any faster. She sighed hard and added, “Lieutenant, I’m leaving one squadron with you as escort and moving on ahead. Follow us as quickly as you can.”

She didn’t need the shuttles, not really, but she wasn’t taking any chances. They were a precaution, filled with medical teams and supplies of every conceivable kind that might be needed. The landing force had taken only rudimentary med services with them, so if she did come down in the middle of a battle, she’d be glad the shuttles were on the way. They could save a lot of Marines as well as the admiral.

If Compton was just stranded on the surface, unable to communicate but otherwise fine, she’d load him onboard her fighter and blast back to
Midway
at full thrust. But the jamming wasn’t a good sign, and she knew she might find a far worse situation waiting. Something was wrong down there.

She turned toward the front of the cockpit. “Get us there, John. As quickly as you can. The shuttles will just have to follow.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Hurley leaned back, waiting for the inevitable force from the fighter’s acceleration…and about five seconds later, she got it. Almost 10g of it.

*  *  *

“You need to intercept those fighters now, Admiral Peltier. Before they get to planet four. Your ships are the only force close enough.” Udinov’s voice was raw, strained as it blared through the com.

Peltier stared at the screen, unsure of what to do. Gregoire Peltier was no one’s idea of a great military leader. Indeed, he owed his position almost entirely to family influence and patronage. Not everyone considered him an outright coward, but no one who knew him believed he was up to the more difficult tasks. And going nose to nose with Greta Hurley met any definition of the word difficult.

“Admiral, I don’t know if…”

“Gregoire, you need to do this. The plan is already half shot to hell. What do you think will happen if she gets Compton and brings him back? You’re hesitant to face off with Admiral Hurley? How do you feel about Compton spacing you for mutiny?”

Peltier was pale, and he looked like he might throw up at any minute. He’d only gotten involved in this whole thing because he wanted to go home. Now he didn’t know what to do. But Udinov was right. Compton was a little less draconian in his actions than Admiral Garret perhaps, but he still wasn’t likely to take what he would almost certainly view as treachery very well.

“But what if they don’t turn back?” Peltier was struggling to sound calm, but his fear was making it difficult.

“Then you have to engage them. You have to disable them…or destroy them if you must.” Udinov’s voice was firm.

“But Admiral Hurley is with them. She is…”

“She is one woman, Gregoire. On one ship. She’s only got two squadrons, and they don’t have any heavy weapons loaded. “If you have to destroy them, you have the power to do it.”

“But…”

“There are no buts,” Udinov yelled. “You signed on to this, and now we’ve got to see it through. I don’t want anybody to get hurt, but if she refuses to turn back we don’t have any choice.
You
don’t have any choice. So just do it.”

Udinov cut the line, leaving Peltier listening to the thunderous sound of his heartbeat in his ears. He sucked in a deep breath and turned toward his com officer. “Get me a line to the fighter squadrons…”

*  *  *

Greta Hurley’s face was like carved stone. “Put me on fleetwide com,” she said coldly. Peltier had threatened her, and in the process he’d released an elemental rage.
The day I let Gregoire Peltier intimidate me is the day I eat a fucking bullet
.

“Yes, Admiral.” The com officer worked his hands over his controls for a few seconds. “On your line.”

Hurley picked up her headset and put it on. “Commander Quincy, you are to bring your squadrons to full alert. All fighters are to arm with double-shotted plasma torpedoes, and be prepared to launch upon command.” Her voice was frozen.

“In the event that any vessel of the Europan contingent—or any other ship in the fleet—opens fire on any of the fighters now enroute to planet four, you are to launch all squadrons immediately. Your fighters are to attack and destroy any vessel that fired on our fighters or shuttles.” She paused for a few seconds. “Is that clear?”

There was a short silence then:  “Umm…yes, Admiral. As you order.” Quincy’s voice sounded a bit uncertain, but Hurley knew the veteran would obey her order.

“This is Admiral West,” came another voice blasting through the com. “As acting fleet commander, I confirm Admiral Hurley’s orders. All fighter squadrons are to obey. All loyal ships are also hereby ordered to fire upon any ships attacking the fighters and shuttles heading for planet four.” A long pause then:  “And you are to maintain fire until the offending vessel is destroyed. We are deep in enemy space under emergency conditions. There is only one punishment for mutiny.”

Hurley let out a long breath. She appreciated the support, but she also knew West had upped the ante. She’s got balls of steel, Hurley thought.
She just might face down this crisis…either that, or all hell is about to break loose
.

“Alright people,” she said, flipping the com back to her squadron channels, “let’s go get the admiral.” She nodded toward Wilder, and the pilot hit the thrusters.

Hurley felt herself slammed back into her seat as 8g of thrust engaged.

Now we’ll see what Gregoire Peltier is truly made of…

*  *  *

Udinov stared at the image of
Midway
on the main display. It wasn’t very often that ships had actual visuals of their adversaries. Space battles were fought over hundreds of thousands of kilometers, and anything under 10,000 klicks was considered point blank range. But Erica West had brought
Midway
within three kilometers of
Petersburg
. That was bold beyond compare, indescribably close in for a ship that itself was almost two klicks long.

“Admiral,
Midway’s
weapons systems are powered up and ready to fire.”

Udinov didn’t answer, he just sat quietly, staring at the massive Alliance flagship and wondering what to do.
Petersburg’s
weapons were armed too, but she didn’t have
Midway
’s firepower. He’d never even heard of two ships engaging at a range this short. The massive power of
Midway’s
heavy x-ray laser batteries firing from so close would tear his ship apart. He doubted
Petersburg
would last more than a minute once the shooting started. Conventional wisdom suggested firing back at an attacker, but Udinov realized that was pointless. He could hurt the Alliance vessel, but not destroy it before
Petersburg
was blasted into a lifeless wreck. No, if
Midway
opened fire, he would destroy the refinery. There was no way West could stop him from doing that before he died…and he suspected that is why she hadn’t opened fire yet.