Dauntless

Chapter Thirty-Six<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />



“I’ve reviewed the messages from Avalon,” Philip said,three hours later. The four starshipsthat had arrived had brought a complete update, but he had to keep remindinghimself that it was already out of date. “The war has begun.”



There was no visible reaction from the holographicimages, but he could sense the tension rising in the small compartment. They’d all known it was coming – and that thecountdown had started to the Theocracy’s attack on Asher Dales. Philip rubbed his eyes, tiredly. It was a hell of an irony that they’d finallygotten their hands on a working shipyard – Quincy, it seemed, had been morethan happy to move his outfit out to the Rim – only to have it placed at riskwhen the Theocracy attacked. Philip hadordered the crew to start setting up next to the gas giant mine anyway. They didn’t have time to move it to anothersystem and use it as a secret base.



“It seems that there actually was a Princess Jasmine,” he continued. “The Commonwealth’s version of the story isthat she defected – and attempted to warn the Commonwealth of the oncomingstorm. Thanks to Admiral Morrison” – andhe thought cold thoughts about his former tormentor – “Cadiz was unprepared forthe attack and fell quickly. The lastreport we have states that the remains of 6^th Fleet were preparingto mount a counter-attack.”



“They might be better off withdrawing and waiting forreinforcements,” Nonagon said, quietly. “I served in the fleet and its general condition of readiness wasdeplorable.”



“It will have been fought out by now,” Philip remindedhim. The war had begun almost a monthand a half ago. By now, 6^thFleet would have given the Theocracy a bloody nose – or had been destroyed bysuperior force. “We have to remainfocused on the problem at hand – defending Asher Dales. The Theocracy isn’t going to leave us activein their rear.”



“We could always launch a strike on Jordan,” Schifrinpointed out. “They may not know that thewar has begun.”



Philip had been considering the possibility. In truth, however, Jordan was unimportant tothe war effort, at least as long as the Theocracy’s heavy cruiser – and howevermany other ships they had in the sector – remained intact. Jordan offered them nothing, but paper-thinlegitimacy for their presence in the sector; occupying the planet wouldaccomplish nothing beyond annoying the Theocrats. It was a worthwhile blow in itself, Philipcontinued, yet it would accomplish little else. The Theocracy would attack Asher Dales soon afterwards – if their shipsweren’t already on their way.



Governments, intelligence services and mediaorganisations had spent years devising models for the transmission ofinformation from star to star, right across the Human Sphere. Assuming that the go order had been sent fromAbdullah, just after the attack on Cadiz had succeeded, Captain Rican and hiscrew should be ignorant for at least two weeks – but he dared not assume thatthat was the truth. They could have usedan FTL transmission system to speed the message on its way, or they could havesent the order earlier – and that meantthat the invasion force might be approaching Asher Dales right now. Only a fool would try to micromanage eventsfrom hundreds of light years away; it was quite possible that the Theocracy hadagents on Hsu, or one of the other colonies in the sector, and one of themwould alert Captain Rican. They had toassume the worst.



“I have to speak to the council,” Philip said, slowly.



“What can the council do?” Marie asked, practically. “They can declare war on the Theocracy andbeg for Commonwealth assistance – and are they going to get any?”



Philip rather doubted it. The war had just begun. Anyonewho had any combat power left was going to want to hang onto it until they knewwhere the pieces had begun to fall. TheRAN would be redeploying its units towards Cadiz and forming an interior lineof defence; hell, now that Admiral Morrison had been relieved of command –assuming that he was still alive – someone competent might even start planninga counter-attack. They wouldn’t want todeploy units towards Asher Dales, at least not any units that might be a viablepart of an assault fleet. The best theycould hope for would be a handful of outdated starships – and most RAN shipshad been thoroughly updated to remain in service. It was possible that the Commonwealth mightcut a deal with one of the other interstellar powers, but Philip suspected thatthey’d wait to see who came out ahead. They wouldn’t want to ruin their chances of cutting a deal with theTheocracy.



“We could always take over Asher Dales and claim that wewere taking control for the benefit of the Commonwealth,” Schifrin offered,with a wink. “That would give the localssome political cover…”



“Which wouldn’t impress the Theocracy at all,” Philipsaid. “They’d jump at the chance to‘liberate’ Asher Dales from our corrupt government and – oh look – the people of Asher Dales have embraced the faith ingratitude for their salvation! Isn’t itwonderful?”



“Point,” Marie agreed. “I think we have to accept that they’re going to be coming for AsherDales sooner or later anyway – probably sooner. The only gas giant mine in the sector they can take without causingmajor political problems is here.”



“True,” Philip said. He looked over at Nonagon. “Assuming the worst, I want the remaining starships outfitted as soon aspossible. Load some of them withexplosives and prepare to turn them into ramming ships on remote control; rigout the others with missile pods and laser clusters. We can at least give them a bloody nosebefore they take the high orbitals.”



He looked around the chamber, meeting their eyes. “They’re going to come here,” he said. “None of us signed up to defend this planetagainst an overwhelming force, but I think we have a moral right to take astand. Spread the word; if anyone wantsto back out, they can have a seat on the freighter we’re going to send toHsu. They can make their way back to theCommonwealth from there. Anyone whowants to stay will be welcome.



“I don’t know if we have a chance at stopping them beforethey rip us apart, but I intend to try. I expect that each and every one of you will give your utmost to ourpreparations – or I’ll personally turn into your worst ****ing nightmare. If we’re doomed to make a futile last stand,we can at least claw the bastards good and proper before we go down. Make sure that your people understand that –one way or another, we will be remembered.”



He keyed the switch, closing the communicationsrelays. In the privacy of his own head,he had to admit that defeat seemed likely – certainly if he tried to fight aconventional defence. But there wereways to even the odds, just a little; he’d been devising them ever since he’drealised that there was at least one Theocracy heavy cruiser in thesector. They might just be able to takethem by surprise.



Civilian ships weren’t warships, no matter how manymissile pods or laser clusters were bolted onto their holds. The average lifespan of most of his squadronwould be measured in seconds once they flew into missile range of the enemyship, yet…he had a vague idea or two. Itwould make his stunt of offering himself as a hostage look positively sane bycomparison, but…it should work. Dasher had been built to stand anastonishing amount of pressure, after all.



He stood up and headed towards the airlock. The council, down below, had no idea that warhad been declared. They’d have to beinformed before the Theocracy arrived and started issuing demands for theirsurrender. Who knew which way thecivilians would jump?

***​

“Can you hold this planet?”



Philip paused to consider the question. The council had been called almost as soon ashe’d landed, allowing all of the councillors a chance to reach the town hall. Philip would have preferred that some of themhad decided to absent themselves, but there was no help for it. Besides, any real question was likely to beput to a referendum. The councillorswouldn’t be able to ram a decision down the throats of their fellows. Everyone on Asher Dales had seen whatremained of the refugees from Jordan and even the ones who wanted to send therefugees back into space knew what conquest by the Theocracy would mean forAsher Dales.



“Perhaps,” he said, finally. He didn’t want to go into details. The Theocracy might have subverted one ormore of the councillors – and everything he said would get back to listeningears. If he’d had proof…but there wasnone. There was no point in pointingfingers at anyone, even Farnham, without proof. His comrades would refuse to believe him. “We certainly intend to try.”



“But some of your people are fleeing,” Greg Farnham said,sardonically. “How do we know that youintend to stay?”



“I’m not leaving,” Philip said, patiently. He thought about explaining the link betweenthe military and civilians, that the strongest militaries had always been theones with close ties between the military and civilian spheres, but Farnhamwouldn’t have understood. “Only thirteenof my men are leaving. The remainderhave agreed to stay and fight for you.”



He smiled. “Andbesides, there are over three hundred volunteers from the former pirate baseand two hundred trainees from Asher Dales itself,” he added. “They all know what they’re fighting for, councillor.”



“Which leaves us with a single question,” Barringtonsaid. “Should we petition theCommonwealth for membership?”



There was a long pause, followed by a freewheelingdebate. Philip did his best to followit, trying to understand who was on what side. Farnham seemed to be against it, which wasn't too surprising, butseveral of the farmers seemed to be in favour – and Barrington himself hadn’tcast a proper vote. The main issueseemed to be what they’d have to do to gain Commonwealth membership; none ofthem wanted to end up like Cadiz. Philipcouldn’t blame them for that fear. Cadizhad been a dreadful mistake from Day One.



“There are some issues you need to consider,” Philipsaid, when they asked his opinion. “Inthe short term, the Commonwealth is likely to be unable to send you anysignificant help. Even if we send arequest off now – and they agree at once – it will still be upwards of twomonths before any help arrives, even if they dispatch it the day after agreeingto send help. We will have to make ourstand without them. Commonwealthmembership wouldn’t make you less of a target; you still have the gas mine, youstill have your location – and you still have the squadron. In the short term, you have to stand on yourown.”



“So we shouldn’t prostitute ourselves to theCommonwealth,” Farnham growled. “Theycan’t do anything for us and we have nothing to interest them.”



Philip ignored him. “In the long term, you have the gas mine, you have the makings of ashipyard – and you have a growing off-planet workforce, both orbital and deepspace,” he said. “The Commonwealth wouldcertainly find you a good long-term investment; Asher Dales would develop untilit matched Hsu within five years. If theCommonwealth survives the early thrusts of the war, they’d find Asher Dalesvery useful and they’d probably be willing to agree to excellent terms foryou. They’d certainly want to keep theTheocracy out of this sector.”



He smiled. “Myadvice is that you apply for membership,” he concluded, “but remember thatthere will be no help – and no reply – for quite some time.”



“I see,” one of the other councillors said. “And if we plead neutrality?”



“The Theocracy would certainly not accept it,” Philipsaid, grimly. “At the very least, they’dinsist on you disarming – and then you’d be at their mercy. Or they’d assume that you were trying to buytime and launch an attack at once. Ithink you’d discover very quickly that you can’t trust them to keep abargain. They believe that promises madeto infidels don’t count.”



“We need to debate the matter,” Barrington said. Philip smiled inwardly. He’d been under the impression that they werealready debating the matter. He felt anodd flash of impatience that he had to fight down. The work in orbit wouldn’t go faster if hewas pacing the bridge, or personally contacting the work crews to make themwork harder. He had to place his trustin her people and hope. “Please wouldyou wait outside?”



Philip nodded and left the room. Outside, Tanya was seated on a bench, waitingfor him. She looked nervous, butdetermined. Philip took a seat next toher and held out a hand. A moment later,Tanya took it and squeezed hard.



“There’s a lot of fear on the streets,” she said,quietly. “Plenty of people want to fight– but they don’t know if we can fight. Others don’t want to leave their lands andescape back to civilised territory; they’ve invested too much in the system towant to leave it.”



She looked up at him, her eyes open wide. “And to think that I just wanted to be alawyer,” she said. “Philip…can we win?”



Philip hesitated, and then nodded. “I think so,” he said. “I’m not going to go into details – wallshave ears – but I think we can win.”



“I believe you,” Tanya said. She looked down at the floor for a longmoment. “Nothing is ever going to be thesame, is it?”



“No,” Philip said. “You’re on the front lines of a war now.”



“We – my parents and their comrades – came out herebecause they wanted to escape the crowded Core Worlds,” Tanya said,slowly. “They believed that there wasn'ta hope in hell of a better life on Mars or any of the other worlds in the SolSystem. And the pressure to have geniegenes spliced into their DNA was growing overwhelming – Mars may be habitablenow, but it’s nowhere near as liveable as Earth.”



Philip shrugged. Mars had been the human race’s only large-scale attempt at creating anEarth-like paradise from the ruins of a dead world. Once they’d discovered how to open vortexesinto hyperspace, there had been plenty of worlds that required only minorlevels of modification before the settlers could land and start building theirnew lives. The ones who’d remained onMars had started transforming their descendents into genies to allow them tolive on Mars without high-tech support.



“And now we’re involved in galactic events again,” Tanyaadded. “We didn’t ask for this…”



“I don’t think that anyone back on Avalon asked for iteither,” Philip pointed out, rather tartly. “Even the King doesn’t want a war. The real question is how much we’re prepared to surrender to theTheocracy before we finally admit that we have no choice, but to draw a line inthe stars. And they’ve chosen to jumpacross that line.”



He remembered the outdated information from Avalon. Cadiz had been attacked and taken, with 6^thFleet in retreat - presumably taking heavy losses in the battle. 6^th Fleet had represented analarmingly large percentage of the Commonwealth’s active battleships; if they’dbeen destroyed, God alone knew what was likely to happen to the balance ofpower. The Commonwealth was too large tobe destroyed in a single hammer-blow right out of the blue, but it was quitepossible that the destruction of 6^th Fleet would give the Theocracyan unbeatable advantage. They might be ableto press the Commonwealth all the way back to Avalon before new battleshipscould be constructed.



“You cannot expect them to leave you alone,” heconcluded. “Your choice is betweenfighting now - or fighting later.”



“But it isn’t fair,” Tanya protested.



“The universe isn’t fair,” Philip reminded her. “It isn’t unfair either. It simply is.”



Tanya smiled, rather dryly. “That sounds like a line from Galt Gulch’sfounding mother,” she said. “Do you knowI once considered going there to study?”



Philip smiled. “Why didn’t you?”



“I couldn’t be bothered reading the books,” Tanyaadmitted. “And besides – I want childrenone day, and a life that isn’t endless pressure and competition. I don’t just want to live for myself.”



“So you’re human,” Philip said. “I think that makes you unique amonglawyers.”



Tanya snorted, just before someone cleared histhroat. “Ah…Commodore, Miss Barrington,”one of the councillors said. “If youwould care to return to the chamber…?”



Philip pulled himself to his feet and held out a hand toTanya, who took it gratefully. Theywalked together into the council chamber, where the council was waiting forthem. Two of them cast disapproving glancesat their hands before they sat down; the others didn’t seem to care.



“We’ve been considering the issue,” Barrington said. “The debate was brutal and the vote was veryclose. However, it is our intention topetition the Commonwealth for membership. We will hold the vote in two weeks and confirm that there is supportamong our citizens.”



Philip nodded. After Cadiz, the Commonwealth wouldn’t want another member world withoutmaking damn sure that there was substantial pro-Commonwealth support on theground. They’d probably want to send inobservers to be sure that the voting was fair and open to all.



“And when they demand our surrender, we will tell them tocome and take it,” Barrington added. “Wedon’t want to fight, Commodore, but we will not surrender…”



A massive explosion shook the chamber. A moment later, the sound of gunfire began toecho out in the distance. Philip has hisown pistol out and ready before he’d quite realised what was happening. They were under attack.

 

<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><font size="3">Chapter Thirty-Seven<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com


“Hit the deck,” Philip shouted, as he heard the sound ofincoming mortar fire. “Get down, yousilly…”



Another explosion cut off his words. Dear God – it sounded as if they were underassault by an entire infantry company, perhaps more. How could anyone have sneaked such a forceinto the city without it being noticed? The sound of gunfire was growing louder. It was hard to pick out individual sounds, but it certainly sounded asthough they were modern military weapons. Asher Dales had played host to a concealed cache of weapons after all.



He keyed his wristcom as he motioned the councillors andTanya to get under the tables. They’dprovide some limited protection if there was a direct hit on the building. “This is Larson,” he said, hoping againsthope that the enemy hadn’t brought along something that could jamchannels. “I am under attack in the TownHall; I say again, I am under attack in the Town Hall.”



“Understood, sir,” Harmon said. “The Marines are racing for their shuttlenow.”



Philip ran through it in his head. The single assault shuttle they had wasoutdated; it would probably take at least fifteen minutes before the Marineswere in a position to drop. By then, theenemy – whoever they were – could have wiped the council out and declared themselvesthe government of Asher Dales. That wouldn'tbe a good outcome, he told himself, and smiled. It seemed as if he still had a studied gift for understatement.



“Try and get me some updates on the local situation,” heordered. Asher Dales might have had anarmed population, but it would take time to rally the troops. The sophisticated communicationsinfrastructure common on advanced worlds simply didn't exist here. “Launch a drone if you can't get any livefeed off the orbiting satellites.”



He cursed as the building shook again. Assuming that the attackers wanted to capturethe council rather than assassinate them all, they’d have to take the Town Hallby force. The defenders seemed to be fightingback, but they’d clearly been caught by surprise and were probably outgunned –even with the weapons they’d captured at the pirate base and turned over to thelocal defence force. It was quitepossible, a more cynical part of his mind added, that the local defence forcewas doing the attacking. Someone in theright position issuing the right orders could get a hell of a lot done beforeanyone thought to question him...God knew, it had almost happened once beforeon Avalon.



“Listen,” he shouted at the councillors. Most of them were grasping small pistols, henoted with surprised amusement. Firearmswere banned at political meetings on Avalon. Given the likelihood of political debates turning into shouting matcheson Asher Dales, he was vaguely surprised that they hadn't passed a similar law. But he wasn’t going to complain. “They’re coming to kill us and we can’t stayhere!”



On Avalon, there would have been secure blast doors, panicrooms and underground tunnels that would allow the politicians to hide andsecure themselves while troops rushed to take out the terrorists. Asher Dales had no such facilities, at leastas far as Philip knew. Judging from thesounds of fighting outside, they weren't likely to be able to fort up somewhereand wait for help. The insurgents – or whateverthey really were – would be able to blow through any barricades they might beable to put in place.



“We have to get out of here,” he added. He was surprised to see that Farnham waslooking ready to fight, unlike some of the other councillors. “Follow me and keep your goddamned headsdown!”



“We could stay here,” one of the older councillors protested. He’d been speaking against the war and lookedterrified. Having one’s own life indanger did tend to concentrate the mind wonderfully – but it tended toconcentrate the mind on the fact that it was in terrible danger. One way or the other, Philip had lived withdanger from the moment he’d entered Piker’s Peak as a naval cadet. “They’re not going to be able to break in...”



Philip snorted. “Hearthat buzzing?” He asked. “That sounds like a magnetic-propelled assaultcannon. It could blast through the wallsinside this building, tearing them like paper. They’ve probably got plasma cannon and frying grenades as well – giventime, they could bring the entire building down around our ears. We have to get out of here right now.”



He led the way to the rear of the chamber and knelt down,pushing the door open carefully with one hand. The sound of shooting grew louder; it sounded as if they were surroundedby fighting. Philip silently cursed theenemy under his breath. It wouldn't takea tactical genius to have all the exits from the Town Hall watched, with reserveforces lying in wait to trap anyone trying to escape. Silently, he thanked his own paranoia; ifthey hadn't discovered that someone wassending weapons to underground groups, the Town Hall wouldn't have been so wellprotected. It might have made thedifference between life or death.



The corridor seemed empty, but he slipped along it carefullyanyway, glancing down at his wristcom. If the Marines had had a definite ETA...he pushed the thought aside ashe knelt down again and peered around a corner. There was still no sign of movement, friendly or unfriendly. The rear of the Town Hall seemed to be almostdeserted. He looked back at thecouncillors and beckoned with one hand. They looked timorous, but followed him down towards the kitchens at therear of the building. Philip had beentold – by Tanya – that the kitchens were normally unattended, their only usebeing to cook for the population after Town Hall gatherings. It was a charming idea, in his opinion; afteran evening talking politics, everyone could relax together and enjoy somecooking. He wondered if anyone would beenjoying their food on Asher Dales after the Theocracy took over. The meal they’d eaten on Jordan was veryatypical of what the average Theocrat ate.



He halted again and listened carefully. The noise of shooting was growing louder,masking any other sounds. He opened thedoor to the kitchen and peered across a small set of tables, covered withwashed bowls and cooking utensils. Asingle large oven, probably the most advanced in the entire system, dominatedthe rear of the room. It was largeenough to bake nearly a hundred small loaves of bread or roast several whole sheepat once. He hesitated, considering; couldthey hide in the oven? It only took him a moment to dismiss theidea. A laser cutter would have them outwithin seconds, if the enemy didn't simply turn on the heat.



Farnham slipped forward to join him, weapon on hand. “We could hide here,” he murmured. “They’re not going to be able to dig us outof here quickly.”



Philip shook his head. “They’ll just throw grenades at us until we’re dead,” he said. At some point, the insurgents would want tosave their own lives – after all, they wouldn't be able to control theremaining population unless they had the numbers as well as the weapons. “We need to get out of the building quickly.”



He glanced down at the status update on his wristcom. A number of buildings near the Town Hallseemed to have caught fire, probably – judging by the spectroscopic analysis – fromplasma cannon bursts. There was no wayto know if the enemy had set the buildings on fire deliberately or if they’doverheated their cannons and caused their plasma canisters to explode in theirfaces. Philip hoped it was the latter,but he had to assume that it was the former. The enemy should be really putting the boot in right about now. A handful of people were running aroundoutside the Town Hall, yet he couldn't tell if they were friendly, hostile, ormerely caught in the middle of the hellish uprising. There was a limit to how much one could gleanfrom orbital observation.



The entire building shook again; this time, the blast wasfar closer. Philip held up a hand tohalt the councillors and crept forward, carefully peering ahead of him into thestorage chambers behind the kitchen. Thefar wall had been completely disintegrated by the enemy, allowing a small mobof armed men to charge into the Town Hall. They didn't look like professional military men, let alone SpecialForces operatives – certainly nothing to match the elite Rangers or Blades fromthe Commonwealth. Philip remindedhimself not to get overconfident as he hefted his weapon, drawing a bead fromcover on the lead soldier. He didn't have specialised SF trainingeither.



Should have brought adozen Marines as a bodyguard, he told himself, crossly. He hated the thought of having bodyguards,even though regulations clearly stated that commanding officers were to beprotected during times of conflict – or even threatened times of conflict. Asher Dales didn't have a Marine Corps, letalone a Special Warfare tradition; they’d have to see to founding one, giventime. He pushed that thought aside as hewatched his targets. The enemy seemed tobe pushing in more men from the rear. That, he told himself, was grossly unwise.



Calmly, he shot the first man in the head and switched aimto the second before his first target had even hit the ground. The enemy were still reacting when he pulledthe trigger a second time, hitting his target in the throat. A third one leapt forward and Philip shot himin the chest, sending him staggering over and collapsing onto the ground. He hadn’t been wearing body armour,apparently. It was a curious oversight,but not an unsurprising one with a force that basically consisted of civilians. They wouldn't have had the training torealise that guns weren't all that made soldiers dangerous.



He hopped backwards and dived behind the wall as the enemy hitthe deck and opened fire, savagely raking the entire corridor. Philip wasn't sure what they were shooting atand he doubted they knew either; they seemed to be panicking. Someone was bellowing orders loudly enough tobe heard even over the shooting, ordering his men to hold fire. Philip took the opportunity to creepbackwards while waiting for the next target to show himself. Perhaps the enemy commander would lead fromthe front. It would be a particularlyfoolish or untrained commander who would, but he could hope...



Two men lunged forward, their assault rifles raised andready. Philip shot the first one andswitched his aim to the second, but missed. The second threw himself down to the ground and started to hose down thecorridor again, aiming closer to Philip than he perhaps realised. Philip slipped backwards again, shaking hishead as he took in the damage to the stone walls. The insurgents had had the sense not to tryto fire plasma cannons or other heavy weapons inside the building, but how longwould that last? God alone knew how manycasualties they were prepared to soak up to take the council alive.



He crawled backwards into the kitchen and started when hehit a table he hadn't realised was there. A moment later, he realised that Farnham had been giving orders, havingsomehow assumed control. The tables hadbeen tipped over, their heavy metal plating being used to provide a limitedamount of cover for the armed councillors. Philip was almost impressed; the enemy had cut off their line ofretreat, but they were going to find it difficult to take the councilalive. He glanced down again at hiswristcom as he found cover of his own. The Marines were on their way, moving as fast as they could. God only knew if he’d be alive to greet them.



“Got everyone into position,” Farnham whispered. If he was delighted that he’d had a chance totry out his plan, he didn't show it. Philip would have preferred to be legging it through town too, ratherthan being trapped in a shooting gallery. “They’re going to have a hard time taking us.”



Philip had to smile. Two of the councillors were making piles of knives, cooking forks andother kitchen utensils; Tanya and another councillor were sorting out a handfulof ingredients. Philip wasn’t sure whatthey had in mind, but there was no time to worry about it. Everything had gone ominously quiet outside.



“Barrington,” a voice bellowed, loudly. One of the insurgents was trying tocommunicate. Philip and Farnhamexchanged glances, and then they shook their heads simultaneously. There was no point in talking to theinsurgents. “Barrington; come out withyour hands up and we will take you alive! You and your daughter and the rest of the councillors will not be harmedif you surrender now!”



Farnham coughed. “Youwant to bet,” he muttered to Philip, “that they’ll put a bullet in us as soonas we surrender the planet?”



“No bet,” Philip muttered back. How could Tam’s father had turned out to be areal man? Maybe it was the thrill ofdiscovering that his life was in danger, rather than fighting bloodless battlesfor political power. “Do you recognisethe voice?”



“I don’t think so,” Farnham said. “It sounds like an accent from Gnus though;he could have been one of the convicts...”



Philip nodded. Itsounded probable, all things considered. The convicts had a grudge against Asher Dales and absolutely no faith inthe civilian government. It wouldn't betoo hard for the Theocracy to turn them; if the worst happened, they’d reasonthat it could hardly be worse for them personally. Philip would have told them that if he’d beenplaying their side.



Barrington crawled over to him. “You reckon I should tell him to go to hell?”



“If you like,” Philip said. There was a moment’s pause. “Butthey have to know the Marines are coming. We could try to stall them.”



Barrington nodded and raised his voice. “We won’t surrender until we know who we’resurrendering to,” he bellowed. “Who areyou and why are you harming our world?”



“No bargaining,” the voice came back. “Get out here now or we won’t be responsible forthe consequences.”



“**** you,” Farnham bellowed. “We would rather die than betray our people.”



The insurgents opened fire. Bullets spangled off the metal plating and were sent ricocheting aroundthe kitchen. Philip heard a councillor yelpin pain as one of the bullets struck him in the leg. He took aim, but held his fire. Therewas no point in wasting their limited ammunition. They’d keep shooting, he guessed, and thencall on the councillors to surrender again. Or maybe they’d try ordering their men into a shooting gallery...



There was another thump,much closer. Philip’s wristcom startedto bleep, followed rapidly by the sound of Commonwealth-issued weapons. The Marines had finally arrived. There was a brief burst of fire from theinsurgents and then they were gone, running for their lives. Philip keyed his wristcom to order theinsurgents taken alive, if possible, although he knew that they probably wouldn'tknow anything about their superiors. There would have been a Theocracy agent on the planet, but he would probablyhave fled into the untouched countryside as soon as he realised that the assaulthad failed.



“The outside is secure,” Marie’s voice said. “We got a handful of prisoners, sir. I think you’re going to need to take a lookat one of them.”



Philip nodded as the Marines reached the kitchen, allowingthe councillors to free themselves and head out of the tottering building. A small number of prisoners were lying on thegrounds, stunned with jangler pulses that would keep them out of commission forat least an hour. Philip had beenexpecting to see someone from the Theocracy’s standard genotype, but instead hesaw a very familiar face. Tam Farnham’sstunned body was right in front of him.



“I...”



Philip shook his head sadly as Greg Farnham stumbledaway. He probably hadn't known that hisboy was a traitor – absently, Philip wondered if Tam had become a traitorbefore or after Philip had beaten him to within an inch of his life. It would destroy his political career whenthe truth came out – and God knew it wouldn’t be long before the entire planetknew.



And he’d never expected that he would feel any sympathy forthe older man.



“I’m sorry,” he said, quietly, and meant it.

***​

“He confessed, finally,” Marie said. They were gathered in Barrington’s house,near the Town Hall. It had been sparedthe worst of the fires, which had been started deliberately. “They got to him about a year ago – told himthat he’d be the master of the planet under them. He used his own farmstead as a place to hidetheir little team of insurgents – I think we’ll find that most of them werereported dead.”



“We never bothered to take convict death reports seriously,”Abubakar Dakarai, the Penal Supervision Officer commented. He wasn't native to the planet – and would bereturning to Mars at the end of his hitch. Philip suspected that he’d be leaving as soon as he could and to hellwith his contract. He hadn’t signed upfor service in a war zone. “It's somethingwe’re going to have to change.”



“You may also want to give them a stake in their planet,”Philip added. “Or this will happen again– and you may not get lucky next time.”



“True,” Barrington agreed, “but what can we do with them? No one will want them close to settled lands.”



“They could join the pirates,” Philip suggested,mildly. “There’s plenty of room on theuninhabited island...”



He would have said more, but his wristcom buzzed. “Captain,” Harmon said, “we’re picking up avortex opening, 5 light-minutes from the planet. It’s the Theocracy ship, Captain – and she isn'talone.”



“Understood,” Philip said. He’d have to take a shuttle, and then fly back to his ship. If he was lucky, the Theocracy ship wouldn't attackuntil he was safely onboard – for a certain value of ‘safe,’ of course. “Put the defences on full alert. I’m on my way.”

 

It's too bad you can only click on the like button once. Otherwise I'd be tapping on it like I was sending a telegraph.

 

Thanks

Chris

 

This story is as amazing the rest of your writing, I can't believe that publishers aren't tripping over each other to sign you up.

 

I've said this before but it bears repeating. You do amazing work. The level of detail, the character construction, and the plots of your stories are works of art.

I hope you make millions selling them.

Thanks for sharing.

 

We gave our grandson a Kindle for Christmas and in Febuary we will be spending a whole week down at Disney world (I'm thrilled) I think I am going to download your Patriotic Treason and read it in the down time.

 

Thanks guys - I hope to get published soon.


ChapterThirty-Eight<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />



“Report!”



Harmon stood up from the command chair as Philip strodeonto the bridge. Two red icons hung onthe main display, their projected courses angling towards the planet. Philip scowled, even though the Theocracy hadkindly given them a chance to come to battle stations before opening fire. Space battles were fought at point-blankrange on cosmic terms and he was uneasily aware that in the absence of FTLsensors, the Theocracy’s ships might have altered course and he wouldn’t knowabout it for at least five minutes. Intheory, they shouldn’t have been able to spring a surprise on him, butcommanders had spent years considering ways to use the time delay to theiradvantage. Besides, the Theocracy had areputation for being devious.



“Two starships detected,” Harmon said, as he took thetactical console. “One is definitely theWarrior of the Lord, according to oursensor platforms; the other appears to be a light cruiser of unknowndesign. Judging from its power curves,it’s probably roughly akin to the Thermopylae-classships.”



Philip nodded, although he had to remind himself sharplythat the Theocracy might have built a comparable ship, but there was noguarantee that it carried the same weapons load. Light cruisers were built primarily forescorting and scouting duties; their weapons systems tended to be focusedaround dealing with pirates or evading the bigger starships. It probably wouldn’t have mattered; one lightcruiser carried as much firepower as all three of his destroyers.



“Get me a fleet update,” he ordered. In the RAN, the shipboard datanet would havealready started to update, informing him of the precise status of his entiresquadron. The makeshift piece of workthey’d put together for the squadron was cumbersome and hardly up to thetask. Coordinating their point defenceagainst a determined assault would be almost impossible. He had no illusions about how long they’d beable to endure a missile duel. “I wantto know everyone’s status.”



They’d had twenty-seven starships crewed and working up –insofar as that term could be used – in orbit, and nine other starships whichhad been outfitted as ramming ships. Itwasn't actually easy to ram a moving starship, but Philip intended to try. Some of his planned tactics depended uponit. If he could get one ship crashedinto the enemy heavy cruiser, it would be gone. Not even a battleship could survive such an impact. But it was such an obvious tactic that theTheocracy would be expecting him to play it. His only real hope was to keep them off balance until the ramming shipscould be got into position.



“Bring up the datanet and keep running testing cycles,”he said. The RAN built all of itsequipment to function together. Itseemed the pirates had been less canny, although that wasn't a surprise. Theyrarely flew in formation, let alone hunted in squadrons. Most of their equipment hadn’t been designedto be spliced together. “Pass a warningmessage to the backup datanet ships. Iwant the net to be re-established the moment it goes down.”



He settled back in his command chair and forced himselfto wait, trying not to think of the defenceless planet behind him. Barrington – and Farnham, he admitted withsome minor amazement – might talk a good game, but Philip had noillusions. Once the squadron wasstripped away, the Theocracy would land a small army and that would be the endof Asher Dales’ independence. Theycouldn’t hope to maintain an underground resistance until the Commonwealthliberated the planet, if they ever did. If the war was lost…



But what were they waiting for? The thought nagged at him, even as he triedto keep himself focused. They could havecome out of hyperspace much closer to the planet and shattered the squadronbefore his crews even realised that they were under attack. He had to look this particular gift horse inthe mouth; the Theocracy wasn’t stupid, so why were they playing stupid?



Because theyexpected the insurgency on the planet to succeed, he realised,suddenly. So far from Asher Dales, theywouldn’t be able to see what was happening on the planet directly, but they’dcertainly be able to pick up the take from the sensor platforms they’dundoubtedly emplaced in the system. IfTam had succeeded, they would have been able to force the squadron to surrender– Tam’s force would be thegovernment. Philip wondered idly whathis crews would have done without him. Tam had planned his assault in the hopes of decapitating the squadron aswell as the council. A little more luckand he might just have succeeded.



“Captain,” Harmon said, “I am picking up a transmissionfrom the enemy ships.”



Philip straightened his uniform jacket as he satupright. “Let’s hear it,” he said. “Put it on the main speaker.”



There was a brief crackle of static. “Attention, Asher Dales,” an unfamiliar voicesaid. The analysis flickering up onPhilip’s console suggested that it was computer-generated, even though itsounded human. “The Theocracy and theCommonwealth of Avalon are at war. Inline with protecting Theocratic interests in this sector, we demand that AsherDales formally declares neutrality in the conflict. To ensure that this system’s neutrality isrespected, we insist that the Asher Dales Naval Service stands down andsurrenders its ships to the Theocracy. We also demand that all Commonwealth and ex-Commonwealth naval personnelare interned, the gas giant mine and shipyard be secured by Theocratic troopsand that a unit of Janissaries be stationed on Asher Dales to ensure thatpro-Commonwealth elements on the planet do not attempt to take her into thewar.



“Should these demands be rejected, we will move againstyour planet, destroy your space-based defence force and occupy the highorbitals. Further resistance will bepunished from orbit. You have twentyminutes to signal your acceptance of these terms from receipt of this message,or we will move against your world.”



The signal cut out. “It’s repeating on all frequencies,” Harmon remarked, after amoment. “Everyone with a working transmitterwill have heard it, sir.”



Philip nodded and keyed his console, activating the linkto Barrington’s office. “They justdemanded your effective surrender,” he said. The council would have heard the demand – a surrender demand in all, butname. “If you comply with their demands,Asher Dales will be completely defenceless and unable to prevent them fromrenegotiating the agreement at will.”



“We’ve made up our mind,” Barrington said, flatly. “We won’t surrender to them, Commodore. Try and bluff them away if you can, but don’tconcede anything.”



“Understood,” Philip said. “Get yourselves and your families toshelter. The city will be a prime targetif they range in on the planet.”



He adjusted the console and gathered himself. This wasn’t going to be easy, but it had tobe tried. “Theocratic vessel, this isthe Asher Dales Naval Service,” he said. “Asher Dales is a neutral star system and has no interest in supportingeither the Commonwealth or yourselves. Your unauthorised presence in our star system and your ultimatum arenothing more than an outright act of war, an assault against a star system thathas neither the capability nor the desire to wage war on you. If you do not withdraw from this system, wewill be forced to regard your presence as hostile and open fire.”



The seconds ticked away. A vortex could be detected instantly at quite some distance – theripples it caused travelled at FTL speeds – but STL sensors were just solimited. The display showed the messageracing out at the speed of light, a sphere that eventually brushed over theprojected positions of the Theocratic starships. Philip wondered what was going through theirminds. They might assume that theirbullying would succeed, or they might assume that they’d be fightinganyway. In their place, he would haveassumed the worst and headed towards Asher Dales anyway…or towards the gasgiant. The chances were good that thegas giant was their main target; it had the mine, their half-assembledshipyard, and most of their workforce. Philip smiled, knowing that they’d be disappointed. The crews had strict orders to board thecolonist-carrier and bug out through hyperspace the moment the enemy arrivedin-system. Their enemies would not havea chance to slaughter irreplaceable trained workers.



“They’re moving towards Asher Dales, sir,” Harmonreported, finally. The two red iconswere falling into position now, heading right towards the planet. Philip had to admit that it made sense;they’d picked a target that their enemies had to fight to defend, forcing themto come right to the Theocratic ships. Newer icons appeared on the display as the enemy ships launched a seriesof long-ranged sensor probes, hunting for surprises like stealthy minefields oreven starships lurking nearby with their weapons and sensors stepped down tothe bare minimum. “Their ETA isninety-seven minutes.”



“Curious,” Philip commented. They could have slipped into hyperspace – no,they wouldn’t have wanted to risk that, not with so many non-standard starshipsbuzzing around. Hyperspace’s effects onsensors would have crippled the Theocratic warships, allowing Philip a chanceto get his fleet in close without taking savage losses. No, they were playing it smart – andcareful. They didn’t have any requirementto take the planet quickly, before reinforcements could arrive. “Deploy the fleet into formation gamma andwarn them to prepare to trigger their vortex generators on command.”



There was no hope of fighting a conventional battle – atleast, there was no hope of fightingandwinning a conventional battle. That alone decreed that he had to fight smart– and cheat – and they’d know that. Itlooked as if they were watching him carefully, looking for the surprise beforethey ran right into it. Philip had toadmire the paranoia of his opponent – and his willingness to override hisCleric. The intelligence reportssuggested that the Clerics were kept deliberately uninformed of naval tacticsand tended to urge their ships to close with the enemy, trusting in God to keepthem safe. It was something of a pity,Philip told himself silently. An enemywho acted like a raging bull would have been easier for him to give a bloodnose.



The minutes crawled by slowly, the two ships closing infirmly on the defending force. Philipwatched the datanet, trusting in it to keep his crews together and focused – ifonly they’d had more time to run drills! He pushed that thought aside, grimly. There was no point in wishing for what he didn’t have, particularly as hewanted a whole squadron of battleships and perhaps a fleet carrier or two. They would have tipped the balance firmlyover to his side.



“On my command,” he ordered, sending the command to allof his ships, “begin rotating the vortex generators as planned.”



He waited for a minute to tick by, and then he keyed thecommand. Space started to twist and boilwith eerie energies as a dozen vortexes opened up in front of the squadron andthen started to destabilise. It wasn'tsafe to open too many vortexes in a confined space – and it risked overloadingthe generators – but they didn’t have to hold the vortexes open for long, justlong enough to activate the ECM drones. The vortexes faded away – and the Theocrats suddenly found themselvesconfronting a much larger fleet. They’dalmost certainly know that most of the fleet consisted of decoys, but theywould find it hard to tell the difference. Every missile that spent itself harmlessly on a decoy wouldn’t beblowing holes in his ships.



“Two minutes from my mark,” Philip ordered, knowing thatthe Theocratic warships would still be trying to pick out the decoys from thereal starships, “we will start moving forwards into attack formation.”



“Understood, sir,” Harmon reported. “All ships have checked in and report ready.”



“Good,” Philip ordered. “All ships with special duties are to perform them as soon as we slipinto attack formation. All others shipsare to fire as soon as they bear.”



The seconds ticked down to zero. “Mark,” Philip ordered. “All ships – attack.”



Dasher seemedto leap forward, followed by her two consorts and an entire stream of ex-piratevessels. The Theocratic warships didn’tseem to hesitate as their enemies roared towards them, even though they wereaccompanied by hundreds of decoy warships. Given enough time, they’d certainly pick out the fakes from the realships – hell, they’d know the moment the fake ships didn’t open fire when theyentered missile range – but they shouldn’t be able to do it in time. The range between the two squadrons closedalarmingly quickly; red sweeps of light flared into existence on the targetingdisplays as the Theocratic ships took aim, preparing to fire. Philip watched for the first scatter-burst ofmissile icons, knowing that an improvement in enemy missile capabilities mightensure the destruction of his entire squadron. There was no hard data on just how well Theocratic missiles compared tothose produced by the Commonwealth.



“Entering firing range in twenty seconds,” Harmonreported. “Enemy vessel is locking ontous.”



“Fire as soon as we enter firing range, then yank us backand take us out of range,” Philip ordered, sharply. They couldn’t hope to win a missile duel –and it wasn't time to charge to point-blank range. “The first pair of ramming ships are orderedto engage – charge straight at the enemy and hit them.”



Dasher shudderedas she unleashed a full salvo of missiles. A moment later, the display sparked with red icons as the Theocraticwarships opened fire. Their fire seemedconsiderably more dangerous – certainly more numerous – than that of theirenemies; an alarmingly large number of missiles seemed to be targeted on Dasher specifically. Philip couldn’t tell if they believed that Dasher was coordinating the datanet,such as it was, or if they were just trying to decapitate the squadron. A squadron of modern Commonwealth shipswouldn’t lose their datanet even if they lost their flagship, but all ofPhilip’s preparations had been very limited. They might lose the datanet completely – and if that happened, he’dordered his ships to fall back rather than risk a futile engagement.



“Enemy missiles on attack vector,” Harmon reported,coolly. Philip suddenly remembered thathe was meant to be on his own vessel – and was silently grateful that theyhadn’t had time to complete the transfer. “Enemy ships are switching their targeting to the ramming ships.”



Philip wasn’t too surprised. The two tramp freighters seemed old enough tohave been built by the UN; they were certainly too lumbering and slow to be anyuse in a fight, save as ramming ships. It wouldn’t take a genius to deduce what they were doing – and anycommander worth his salt would throw everything he had at them, just to preventthem from ramming his ships. Even a nearmiss might be disastrous. Philip had hadthe ships loaded with explosives. One ofthe freighters went up in a staggering explosion; the second seemed to gettantalisingly close before a missile detonated inside her hull and she went uplike a firecracker.



Dasher’s pointdefence went to rapid fire as the enemy missiles closed in on her hull. Philip braced himself as the missile swarmwas winnowed down, watching grimly as a handful of missiles somehow evaded thedefences and arrowed down towards his ship. One died just before it could slam home; the second hit Dasher’s rear armour and sent a powerfulkick through the entire ship. It waslucky that they’d built the ship so solidly, Philip reminded himself, silentlythanking God for those paranoid early designers. If they’d known that compensators wouldbecome much more capable in the years between her launch and her decommission,they might not have worked so much armour into the hull.



“Minor damage, sir,” Bartley reported. He too should have been elsewhere, but he’drefused to leave Dasher when therewas a prospect of her going into battle. “Several laser clusters have been knocked out. We’re going to have a gaping hole in ourpoint defence.”



Philip had already seen that – and he prayed to God thatthe Theocracy hadn’t seen it. No humanmind could do more than oversee missile combat between starships; targeting washandled by super-powerful computers, capable of accepting and collating all thedata from the datanet and using it to target the next salvo of missiles. They’d probably see a gap in Dasher’s point defence and concentratetheir fire on that position.



The datanet continued to update itself as the squadronfell back. Four ships had been destroyed;two more had been badly damaged – not counting the ramming ships. The Theocratic starships were stilladvancing, their paint not even scratched by the salvo of missiles launchedtowards their hulls. Philip wasn't toosurprised. They had modern point defencesystems and a datanet that wasn't composed of seventeen different designs ofcomputers, ones that had never been intended to link together. And their fire was proving alarminglyaccurate. They’d range on Asher Dales soonenough and then Philip would have to fly back into their range, or abandon theplanet completely. He wasn't about to dothat.



“They’re almost at Point Zeta,” Harmon reminded him. If nothing else, the one mistake theTheocracy had made was that their course was perfectly predicable. His first trick might just work. “Captain?”



Philip nodded, watching as the two ships crawled towardsan invisible line in space. He wondered,absently, what was going through their minds – were they pleased that hisattacks had seemed so ineffectual, or did they believe that there was another cardto play? There was no way to know.



He keyed his console, tapping in a code that unlocked aparticular firing sequence. They’d setit up carefully, knowing that if the Theocracy’s spies heard about it, theentire plan would be rendered useless. The moment the enemy ships crossed the invisible line, he tapped in thefinal sequence and fired.



“Take that,” Harmon muttered, quietly enough that Philiprealised that he didn’t know that he was speaking aloud. “Got you, you bastards!”

 

Chapter Thirty-Nine<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />



The trick had been very simple, like all good ideas.



They’d captured hundreds of missiles of all kinds of modelsat the pirate base. Philip had orderedmost of them transported to Asher Dales, without a particularly clear idea ofwhat he had in mind for them. Most ofthem couldn’t be fired from his ships; he wasn’t even sure where half of themissiles had even been produced. Instead, he’d had the idea of using them as a minefield – and then usingthe ships on special duties to deliberately lay the missiles in the enemy’spath. Without any form of active sensoremissions, their presence masked by the ECM decoys still trying to confuse theenemy, the makeshift minefield had hidden right in plain sight, utterlyundetectable.



Philip watched as the missiles roared towards theirtargets. By its very nature, it was atrick that would only work once. Thecloser the Theocratic ships had come to their targets, the greater the chancethat they would realise that they’d been suckered – and start blowing themissiles out of space before their drives could come online. Now, their point defence was retargetingitself with terrifying speed, too late. They’d never be able to take them all down in time. Some of them would at least slam right intotheir hulls.



“Bring the fleet about,” he ordered, sharply. There was no time to waste enjoying hishandiwork. Their best chance to followup the sucker punch was now, while every point defence weapon system theTheocracy had on its ships was trying to sweep them all out of space. “Order the second ramming flotilla to followus in.”



Dasher twisted inspace and roared back towards the red sphere that marked missile range. The remainder of the squadron followed her,although the damaged ships were limping badly – one seemed to be in worse shapethan the datanet suggested. A quickcheck revealed that her onboard data node had failed and she’d nearly droppedout of the makeshift net. The only thingkeeping her going was a patched computer system her engineers had installed,just in case.



The swarm of missiles were closing in on the enemyships. Philip had ordered most of themto go after the heavy cruiser, but the light cruiser was surging forward,trying to cover her stronger consort. For a moment, he almost forget that they were enemies; watching thecruiser struggle for her life left him feeling a curious kinship with theTheocratic crew. He reminded himself ofall the atrocities that had been committed in the Theocracy’s name and pushedthe feeling aside. Perhaps the ship’screw hadn’t committed any atrocities personally, but they’d certainly helped toenable others who had committedatrocities.



He sucked in a breath as the end came swiftly. A missile struck the light cruiser directlyon her prow, digging into the armour and knocking out many of her point defenceclusters. They hadn’t had a chance tobuild command missiles to take advantage of sudden opportunities opening up,but it hardly mattered. Four moremissiles plunged through the gap and slammed into the ship’s hull. For a moment, she seemed to hang in space –and then she billowed up into a fireball. The remaining missiles, having lost their targets, roared onwards intodeep space.



“We got her,” Harmon exulted. The entire datanet seemed to be full ofcheering. “We killed the bastard!”



“One of the bastards,” Philip reminded him. “Continue firing at will.”



The heavy cruiser was clearly made of sterner stuff. Disregarding the incoming starships, CaptainRican concentrated his efforts on knocking down the missiles before they coulddamage his ship. Philip watched with asense of numb amazement as he fought for life, eventually catching all, butthree missiles. They slammed into hisship’s hull and nuclear fire billowed out in the darkness of space. Brilliant trails of plasma shimmered outwhere his ship had been hit, yet it was clearly still active and able tofight. Philip felt an odd flicker ofsympathy. It must be hellish inside herhull.



“They’re slowing,” Harmon reported. “I think they’re trying to open the range onus.”



“Keep us closing in,” Philip ordered. Given time to make repairs, the heavy cruisercould still win the battle. It looked asif her fire control had been damaged – she seemed to be moving from target totarget randomly – but a single hit would be enough to disable or destroy mostof his fleet. They’d taken out two ofthe smaller pirate craft almost without him noticing. “Take down as much of their missile racks asyou can. I want the bastard crippledbefore he gets into firing range of Asher Dales...”



Dasher closed inon her target, firing madly towards the heavy cruiser. The Theocracy ship shot back, two missilescoming alarmingly close to slamming right into the destroyer and blowing her toatoms. Philip had to admit that themultiple target engaging tactic seemed to be working out for them; they’dpicked off another gunboat and keeping the rest of his force off balance. Their main tactical sensors seemed to havebeen crippled, but he reminded himself that they hardly needed them to aim. His fleet wasn't trying to hide.



“Two direct hits to their rear, Captain,” Harmon reported,as Dasher pulled away like anoversized starfighter. “I think wewounded them, but...”



Philip glanced at the live feed from Dasher’s sensors. TheTheocracy ship was putting out a great deal of ECM – and the battle was makingit harder to keep track of her status – but she didn't seem to have slowed anyfurther. In his enemy’s place, Philipsuspected, he would have dived back into hyperspace and fled the system, atleast until he had time to make a few repairs. Even if the enemy won the battle – and that was still possible – they’dbe crippled and far from a useable shipyard. The one Quincy had deeded to Asher Dales would be destroyed and Hsuwould intern the Theocracy ship if she arrived, seeking sanctuary andassistance.



“Don't count on it,” he warned. Four small patrol boats were closing in,volley-firing their missiles. They weren’tshipkillers – the tiny patrol craft weren't intended to actually fight anyonecapable of fighting back – but if they were skilfully aimed, they might takeout a laser cluster or a missile hatch. Warrior of the Lord targeted them asthey closed in, her heavy laser and plasma cannons burning two of them out ofspace. A third slammed right into theheavy cruiser, causing yet another explosion to speckle out on her hull. It hadn't been enough to cripple theship. The fourth ship nearly managed tomake it away before a single shipkiller swatted her out of existence. Philip cursed under his breath, knowing thatseventeen good men were dead. And manymore would die if they failed to stop Warriorbefore she reached Asher Dales.



“Order the remaining ramming ships to advance forward,” heordered. If they were lucky, theirflight would be mistaken for another attack run. “Aim them at the gaps in their sensorcoverage...”



“Aye, sir,” Harmon said. Dasher shook suddenly as amissile detonated, alarmingly close to her. X-ray lasers slashed out at her armour, only to be deflected. A nearer miss would still have damaged theirship. “They’re rolling their ship. Their sensor coverage may not be as degradedas we would like.”



Philip couldn't disagree. Modern starships were studded with sensor blisters to allow their crewsto monitor the outside universe. Theywere vulnerable, however, to a determined attacker; hell, one of the roles ofstarfighters in modern warfare was to shoot off the exposed sensor blisters,blinding their enemy’s sight. But theenemy commander was smart enough to roll his ship to ensure that there were nopermanent blind spots. They’d see theramming ships coming.



He shook his head, tiredly. After losing the light cruiser and having so much damage inflicted onhis ship, Captain Rican had to provide the Theocracy with a victory. If success in warfare was God’s sign of approval,failure in warfare was the opposite – and Captain Rican’s career would come toan abrupt halt. He couldn't understandwhy any navy would seek to eliminate commanding officers who’d gainedexperience – even if the lessons came with a cost – but he was grateful forit. The Theocracy’s Admirals would neverhave a chance to learn from their failures. It was always easier to learn from failure than victory – assuming thatone got the chance to learn.



“Order two attack flotillas in to distract attention fromthe ramming ships,” he ordered. They’dhave to keep pressing their advantages, such as they were. Sooner or later, he was going to run out ofships and then there would be nothing stopping the wounded cruiser frombombarding Asher Dales into submission. “Andtake us around and prepare to re-engage the enemy.”



Dasher twisted inspace again, just as the enemy ship noticed the ramming ships. The cruiser suddenly started to spew missilestowards the rammers, ignoring the other ships even as they closed topoint-black range. Philip cursed,unsurprised, as two of the ramming ships vanished in massive fireballs,followed swiftly by the third. And thenhe stared as Joe Buckley zoomedthrough the haze and came right at the heavy cruiser. Her commander held his fire until he wasright on top of the ship, and then lashed out with everything he had. Great gouts of fire blasted out into space asher enemy weapons swept the enemy ship’s hull, moments before her laser cannonstargeted her small tormentor. Joe Buckley twisted, trying to escape,but it was already too late. Powerfullasers burned right through her hull, stabbing deep into her vitals.



“Get out,” Philip whispered, knowing that it was already toolate. “Get to the lifepods...”



Joe Buckley vanishedin a flash of brilliant light. If anyonehad realised that the ship was doomed, they hadn't had a chance to boardlifepods and escape. Philip focused hismind, just for a second, on the dead, and then pushed his feelings asideharshly. He had to concentrate on thebattle. Dasher had been targeted almost as soon as she turned around,leaving his ship seconds to get back out of range before it was too late.



“Incoming fire,” Harmon warned. Dasher twisteddesperately in space, launching drones and decoys to sucker the enemy missilesaway from incoming fire. It was toolate. “They’re closing in...”



An X-Ray laser warhead detonated only bare kilometres from Dasher’s hull. Philip felt his ship scream in agony as the laser stabbed deep into her superstructure. If she hadn't been built so firmly...he helddesperately on to his command chair as the artificial gravity shifted, faded,and then slowly returned to normal. Redicons were blazing over the entire status display and when he pagedEngineering, no one answered. He hopedthat that meant that only the communications systems had failed, but he suspectedotherwise. The single hit had taken outone of their reactors, leaving them operating at half-power. Damage-control programs were alreadyrerouting power from the other reactor, trying to compensate for what they’dlost, yet he knew that it wouldn't be good enough. They’d been crippled.



For a moment, he wondered if this was how he was going todie. He’d come face-to-face with his ownmortality at an early age, yet...never, in his worst nightmares, had heimagined fighting such a hopeless battle. Philip felt his head spin as he pushed his control, trying to force thesluggish systems to respond. Warrior of the Lord was closing inrapidly, clearly scenting the kill. Asingle missile and his ship would be nothing more than atoms floating in space.



He stopped, staring down at the console. They had power; they should be able to dosomething. A crazy idea was runningthrough his mind. Perhaps, just perhaps...



“Reroute all power to drives and sensors; spare nothing foranything else, even life support,” he ordered. Dasher’s sensor node had been battered, but the heavy cruiser wasn'ttrying to hide and – given her state – probably couldn't have hidden even ifshe’d been trying to hide. “Take usright towards the enemy ship.”



Harmon looked up from his console, which he’d recoded toserve as the helm after the helmsman had been blown off his position by power surgingthrough his station. There was no timeto check if he was alive or dead. Theentire ship was badly crippled, almost certainly a write-off. They’d be safer on the Death by Stupidity than the damaged Dasher...



“Sir,” he said slowly, “we won’t have the power to ram thebastards properly...”



“We’re not going to ram them,” Philip said. He checked his wristcom, which hadautomatically dropped out of the shattered onboard communications network and linkedinto a smaller network of dispersed communications systems. “We’re going to board the bastards.”



He settled back down into his chair, hastily barking ordersto the Marines. “Take us to them,” heordered. “Now.”



Dasher feltsluggish as she moved forward, approaching the heavy cruiser as a minnow might approacha whale. Philip silently prayed that CaptainRican wouldn't notice what they were doing until it was far too late. They could move faster, but the drives hadbeen so badly damaged that trying to work more speed out of them might causethem to fail catastrophically...the heavy cruiser came closer, and closer...andthen a deafening crash shook theentire ship. The computer network gaveup the ghost, followed rapidly by the final reactor. They were thrown back on battery power, andthat would last maybe ten minutes, at best.



“Bond us to their hull,” Philip ordered. He could imagine the chaos on the enemyship. Ramming was an understood part ofnaval combat, but using one ship to board another. “And prepare to overload the vortex generatorif possible...hell, get the Marines onto the hull and into the bastards beforethey have any bright ideas about blowing us both to kingdom come.”



The lights failed. Dasher was dead. He fancied that he could feel her soul – if aship could be said to have a soul, which few spacers would dispute – slipping away. His ship was no longer his own. The sound of air leaks could be heard in thedistance, suggesting that the hull was buckling under the strain. He pulled his hood up and over his face,trusting in the shipsuit to provide protection against hard vacuum, and startedto head for the hatch. It was jammed,partway open. They squeezed through andheaded for the gash in the hull.



Outside, there was no time to admire the glowing starsaround them. Dasher seemed to have mashed herself into Warrior of the Lord, her Marines already advancing their way througha tear in the heavy cruiser’s hull and into her pressurised compartments. Philip could hear Marie’s crisp instructionsas they fought their way into the main body of the ship, discovering that mostof the crew seemed to be unarmed and unwilling to fight. He wasn’t too surprised. The Commonwealth knew enough about whatpassed for naval discipline in the Theocracy to understand why the senior officersand the Clerics would want to keep their men unarmed. God alone knew how many of their crews wouldturn on their commanders and defect to the Commonwealth, if they were givenhalf a chance.



The interior of the heavy cruiser seemed to be designed uponsimilar principles to the Commonwealth’s designs, which suggested that thebridge would be at the centre of the ship, protected by heavy armour. A hit that took out the bridge would probablytake out the entire ship, although Commonwealth battleships and other capitalwarships had secondary bridges, allowing them to keep fighting if they were crippledby a lucky hit. The Marines werechattering away, two of them trying to hack the computer core and shut it down beforesomeone decided to blow the ship and call it a draw. He saw a handful of men – all young andunarmed – gasping for breath as the air ran out of their ship. Only a few of them had had the presence ofmind to grab for spacesuits.



“There, sir,” Harmon said. Ahead of them, the Marines were already burning their way into the enemybridge. It was a solid hatch, strongerthan anything like it in the Commonwealth. Philip suspected that the Theocracy commanders feared – with good reason– mutiny far more than any Commonwealth commander. They could hold out for days, if necessary,behind that hatch. But it couldn't standup to the cutters the Marines had brought along. “Sir...?”



The hatch crashed open and the Marines surged into thebridge, weapons ready. Philip followed,watching in horror as the Cleric rose to his feet. He was wearing a shipsuit that provided someprotection against the leaking atmosphere and holding a switch in hishand. Philip realised, with a sense thathe’d failed after all, that the switch was keyed to destroy the ship. The Cleric’s final orders would be to preventthe ship falling into enemy hands at all costs. And if what they’d been told about the brainwashing Clerics underwentbefore they served on ships was true, he wouldn't hesitate to put his ordersinto effect. Philip closed his eyes,silently grateful that Tanya was still on Asher Dales...



And then the Cleric stumbled forward, a hole appearing inthe front of his head. The switch fellto the deck and broke. Philip stared,dazed, and then saw Captain Rican. TheTheocratic commander was holding a small laser pistol, which he’d used to killhis Cleric...and, as the Marines pointed their weapons at him, he allowed it tofall from his hands, just before he raised them into the air in surrender.



Philip met his eyes and saw...understanding, perhaps thedesire not to get any more of his men killed, or – perhaps – a recognition thatthe Theocracy had to be stopped. Andperhaps a desire to live himself...



“Thank you,” Philip whispered, quietly.



The battle for Asher Dales was over.

 

Now the work begins to fortify the area and hold on to what they have ,for as long as they can !!
Great battle ,Thanks !!!!

 

Awesome!

 

WOW! Fantastic.

 

Now that's a space battle. Well done!

 

Chapter Forty<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />



“Well, Captain,” Admiral Bainbridge said. “I must say that I am very pleased to seeyou.”



Philip smiled, remembering his last meeting with theAdmiral, when he’d been told that he was going to be discharged from the navyhe loved. Nearly a month and a half hadgone by since the Battle of Asher Dales, but he was still getting used to theadulation he was receiving from all segments of Commonwealth society. The Commonwealth hadn't had much to applaud sinceSecond Cadiz and he’d found himself branded a hero.



“I dare say that I am pleased to see you too, sir,” hesaid, dryly. The Admiral shot him asharp look. Someone – and he had no ideawho, although he suspected Cassandra – had slipped the recordings of hisdismissal from the RAN to the media. After Admiral Morrison had lost Cadiz and reprogrammed into becoming aparrot for the Theocracy, the RAN’s senior officers were looking for politicalcover. He rather hoped that some of themwere planning how to fight and win the war as well. “It’s been quite some time.”



“Indeed, Captain,” the Admiral agreed. “And Asher Dales was quite insistent that yoube permitted to rejoin the RAN – one might almost say they seemed glad to havethe chance to insist on it. And themedia is quite insistent that you are a hero.”



Philip grinned. Asher Dales had turned out to have something to bargain with after all –the remains of the Theocracy cruiser and her surviving crew. None of the Commonwealth intelligenceagencies had had any idea that there were dissident organisations in theTheocracy, certainly none one that had managed to get a handful of its peoplepromoted to high positions within the Theocracy’s navy. The chance to take apart one of their shipsand interrogate someone more than willing to talk was one that they wouldn't seeagain. They’d agreed to strike all kindsof bargains, just to get a look at the ship.



Warrior of the Lordwould never fly or fight again, any more than Dasher herself, but she had been transported to a secret shipyardon the other side of the Commonwealth, where techs were already starting to dissembleher piece by piece. She might have beenolder than the current generation of Theocratic warships, but she’d beenextensively refitted and possessed specimens of all kinds of first-ranktechnologies. The next generation ofCommonwealth ECM drones and other surprises would be based upon what theypulled out of the heavy cruiser, giving them an advantage against the Theocracyin the upcoming battles. It was anadvantage that they desperately needed. The Theocracy hadn’t been deterred by Second Cadiz at all.



He allowed his gaze to shift to the strategic map,floating to one side of the Admiral’s desk. Three Commonwealth stars glowed bright red, marking the enemy presenceinfecting Commonwealth space – and two of them were full members of theCommonwealth. Millions of citizens werenow living under Theocratic rule – and, judging from the reports signalled outto stealth platforms lurking within the system, they weren’t enjoying themselvesvery much. The Theocracy had alreadystarted mass repressing of women, other religions and anyone with any militaryservice. They seemed to believe thatthey had already won the war.



But they were wrong, he told himself firmly, and hopedthat he was right. The media was alreadypicking up on the transmissions from the three occupied worlds, making it veryclear what occupation by the Theocracy actually meant. What debate had continued after the attack onCadiz had been quelled; the Commonwealth was gearing up for war. Knowing that they might be on the front lines,billions of civilians were purchasing guns and ammunition, preparing for anoccupation they all prayed would never come. The Theocracy wasn't all-powerful; the Commonwealth had held its own ineven battles. But they clearly had anumerical advantage and a complete willingness to use suicidal tactics toinflict losses. The rate of attritionwas alarmingly high and the war stocks the Commonwealth had built up over theyears were becoming depleted. It couldstill go either way.



“We have had little choice, but to whitewash yourdischarge and assign you a command,” Admiral Bainbridge said, bringing Philipback to the here and now. “There is abattlecruiser just coming off the slips that needs a commanding officer. Captain Hawthorne was supposed to commandher, but we had to rush him forward and assign him to Triumph after her commander and XO were murdered by the Theocracy’sagents. You can have her and any of themisfits you took to Asher Dales, if you wish.”



“Thank you, sir,” Philip said, without a trace ofirony. Now that war had been declared,the local defence forces – including the Asher Dales Naval Service – had beenbrought under Commonwealth command. Philip and the misfits he had assembled were therefore part of the RANagain, even though the RAN’s commanders would probably be happier withoutthem. “I’m sure that some of them willbe willing to serve.”



But not all of them, he knew. Captain Saul Schifrin, whose ship hadsurvived the Battle of Asher Dales, would take Philip’s place as Commodore. Marie, who had expressed no interest in goingback to the Marines, would remain with him, hopefully keeping him out of thedrink. Having an important job and theauthority to do it would help, Philip suspected. Besides, he’d be too busy to drink. The Commonwealth had agreed to assign asquadron of light cruisers to Asher Dales in exchange for the batteredTheocracy heavy cruiser. They’d bedependent upon the shipyard and gas mine established at Asher Dales.



“You were damn lucky,” the Admiral said, flatly. “I want you to understand that, Captain. You were very lucky.”



“Yes, sir,” Philip said. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn't have held back. “It’s a shame that 6^th Fleet wasn'tso lucky, sir.”



Admiral Bainbridge met his eyes and, after a moment,looked away. “You’re right,” he said,flatly. “You got the ****; AdmiralMorrison got the glory – until Cadiz was attacked.”



“Worse than that,” Philip said. He’d had a chance to review the report of theBoard of Inquiry into the Fall of Cadiz Naval Station. It had made damning reading. “His actions were nothing more than outrighttreason, sir. Why was he permitted to commandsuch an important naval station?”



“Politics,” Admiral Bainbridge said, flatly. He looked down at his hands, and then up atthe holographic star chart. “If youthink that you can run a government without politics, Captain, you’re welcometo try. We need support in the Assemblyfor everything from new construction to maintaining the pressure on theoccupied worlds. Admiral Morrisonremained at Cadiz because he had powerful backers, backers who have now disownedhim and are the loudest voices condemning him.”



“Because they don't want people to remember that theywere the ones who put him there in the first place,” Philip said. Admiral Bainbridge didn't disagree. “Hell of a way to run a navy, sir.”



“Our civilian lords and masters are our lords andmasters,” Admiral Bainbridge said, tightly. “Whatever we may &shy;think ofthem, Captain, they have overall control of defence policy. The RAN exists to support them, not the otherway around.”



“And yet they starve us of the resources we need tosupport their positions,” Philip said.



“It isn't something to discuss,” Admiral Bainbridgesaid. He stood up. “Welcome back to the Royal Avalon Navy,Captain Larson. Your orders” – he pickedup a datachip and passed it over to Philip – “are on the chip. You’ll see that most of her crew has alreadybeen earmarked for her, but you’ll have some chance to pick officers you know –if we don’t rush them forward to the front lines.”



“Aye, sir,” Philip said. He stood up and saluted. “Thankyou, sir.”



“Thank your friends on Asher Dales,” Admiral Bainbridgesaid. “They’re the ones who insisted ona hard bargain.”

***​

The Starlight Restaurant was located in the civilian partof the station, positioned neatly on the outside hull. A massive transparency allowed the diners tolook out at the glowing stars and, floating nearby, the mass of lights that wasAvalon Naval Station. Philip’s newcommand would be in one of the slips, according to the datachip, with the yardworkers making the final alterations before formally handing her over to thenavy. Tradition dictated that the ship’snew commander had to wait until the handover before seeing her, leaving Philipat something of a loose end.



“I’m glad they honoured our request,” Tanya said, whenshe joined him. God, she looked beautiful– and well above his pay grade. Thethought made him smile. Tanya had beenassigned as the official Ambassador to the Commonwealth Assembly while AsherDales prepared for membership, making her the youngest and least experienced politicianin town. But she was tough – Camelot probablywasn't going to know what had hit it. “Youdeserve a command.”



“Thank you,” Philip said, dryly. In truth, he wasn't sure how he felt aboutit. Asher Dales had allowed him tocommand his navy as he saw fit, but he knew that the RAN would expect him tofollow orders. Battlecruisers were oftenoperated independently, rather than in squadrons, yet he would still haveoverall orders. On the other hand,battlecruisers had traditionally been seen as a stepping stone to flagrank. “What did you do to deserve beingdropped in the snake pit?”



Tanya looked surprised for a moment, and thensmiled. “Someone had to represent ourinterests to the Commonwealth,” she said. “My father...felt that I was still the best person for the role, despiteeverything. And you being here didn't hurtat all.”



“I won’t be here for long,” Philip warned her. Did she love him? Did he love her? “And you may find that gratitude has a way ofrunning out in the Assembly. Asher Daleswill have the smallest population in the Commonwealth and it certainly won’thave any connection to all the political alliances built up over the years.”



“True,” Tanya said. “Were we foolish to wish to maintain our independence?”



“Do you want a honest answer to that?” Philip asked, dryly. He smiled. “You live in a universe where the Theocracy gobbled up worlds and entirepopulations for no reason other than it can – and no one can stop it. Trying to maintain your independence in theface of such an overwhelming threat...well, it might have been verycostly. At least the Commonwealth willrespect your internal autonomy.”



Tanya nodded. “Andwhat about you?” She added. “Will you be happy back here?”



Philip considered. “I trained to be part of the navy since I was eighteen,” he said. “I think battlecruiser command will suitme. And besides, there’s a war on. Incompetent superior officers are likely to beremoved from command rather quickly.”



“Dead men’s shoes,” Tanya said.



“Admiral Morrison’s court martial made interestingreading,” Philip said. “It’s just ashame that the Admiral is somewhere in the Theocracy. He’s going to be in for an unpleasant surprisewhen he returns to Commonwealth space.”



He shook his head. “I don’t know what the future holds,” he said, thinking darkly about politiciansin uniforms. “God knows if theCommonwealth will hold together under the strain of war, or if one of the otherinterstellar powers will take advantage of our distraction to cause troubleelsewhere. I think all we can really dois take it as it comes.”



Tanya looked up at him, and then out at the stars. “Can we win this war?”



Philip hesitated. “Ithink we can win,” he said, finally. “Ithink that we don’t dare lose. When losing means the destruction of everythingyou love, it does tend to concentrate a few minds.”



He shrugged. “Ifnothing else, we’ll claw the bastards good and proper before we go down,” headded. “And if that inspires some of theirown people to do for the Caliph’s throat and destroy the Theocracy from within –perhaps it will all be worth it. And perhapsthe horse will learn to sing.”

The End​

 

Thanks, Chris. I don't like Sci-fi much but have really enjoyed these stories. I wiish you would put these up as kindle singles and get your name established.

 

Get them on i tunes. I have an ipad and would like to get them from itunes.

 

Thanks guys - BTW, you can download Kindle books to Ipad - I have one myself.

A few reviews on Amazon would be nice too...hint hint.

Chris

 

Awesome job Chris, just as expected. I thoroughly enjoyed your book. You have an amazing talent!

 

I greatly enjoyed this,just like I have the rest of your works.
The only issue I see is that on mainly pages 6-8 is that there are many,many words with no spaces between them.It's no big deal,but adds speed bumps to the flow of the story for the reader.
Keep up the great work,and Thank You for sharing with us.
Matt

 

This story was great and your writing is so descriptive, I think you should skip the book and go straight to the movie. Thank you so much for sharing your talent with us all.