Read Perilous Shield Page 26


  Against strong defenses at the hatches, Gaiene’s troops might have taken significant losses as they hit the deck with varied degrees of skill. But the battle cruiser’s commander had seen no need to leave strong forces at the hatches, instead throwing his entire assault force into the attack. Before the battle cruiser crew realized what was happening, more than seven hundred of their comrades were dead and nearly a thousand armored soldiers were inside the hull of their ship. A battle cruiser constructed by the Syndicate Worlds, whose deck plans had been easily available to help Gaiene prepare this counterattack, whose operating systems, hardware, and software were as well-known to the soldiers of Midway as they were to the crew of the battle cruiser.

  Gaiene moved past the bodies of two dead sentries as the outer hatches finally swung shut, this time under the command of his own soldiers. “Try to keep from blowing out the atmosphere in the ship,” Drakon had ordered. “The mobile forces people say their ships can handle vacuum inside, but it can make a real mess, and we’re supposed to take this ship as intact as possible.”

  Some of Gaiene’s troops had attached small Bedlam Boxes to the comm terminals and sensors in the loading docks, the devices generating a stream of misleading and deceptive messages, warnings, and reassurances into the sensors and internal comm systems of the battle cruiser. The officers and crew of the ship, trying to figure out what was happening and where, would waste precious moments trying to grasp the situation as confusing data poured in.

  The instant the outer hatches sealed and safety interlocks glowed green, his soldiers got the inner hatches open and began pouring into the passageways of the battle cruiser.

  In places where emergency locks had been activated in time, breaching charges blew out those inner hatches, a delay of only a few more seconds before the rest of Gaiene’s forces were heading for their objectives. “Remember the General’s orders,” Gaiene broadcast. “Give the crew members a chance to surrender if you have time.”

  Gaiene was one of the first out of the loading dock where he had landed, finding himself facing a half-dozen crew members of the battle cruiser who had been racing toward the dock. A single shot ricocheted off of Gaiene’s battle armor before he and the soldiers closest to him opened fire and riddled the sailors through their relatively flimsy survival suits. “Didn’t have time,” the sergeant nearest Gaiene noted apologetically.

  “No. But that was their own fault,” Gaiene said, as his column moved along the passageways. The interior of a warship could be a maze to someone unfamiliar with it, but the heads-up displays on the soldiers’ armor provided clear maps of the routes they needed to take to their objectives, with occasional helpful reminders such as “turn right here and take the next ladder down.”

  Gaiene’s column shrank as squads peeled off but remained strong since his ultimate objective was the battle cruiser’s bridge, securely nestled deep inside the hull. Alarms had begun blaring through the ship, interspersed with frantic orders shouted into the general announcing circuit.

  “Most of the remaining crew are at their duty stations,” Lieutenant Colonel Safir reported. “We’re rolling them up.”

  “There are a few wandering around loose,” Gaiene warned, as his own column encountered another group of sailors still trying to scramble into survival suits. For an instant the two groups stared at each other, then the sailors’ hands bolted upward, coming to rest palm first on their heads as they slammed their backs against the bulkheads. “Good lads,” Gaiene told them. “Leave a fire team here to guard this batch,” he ordered the sergeant.

  The next group of crew members they ran into was either more highly motivated or simply had a lot less common sense. Weapons carried by the crew members swung to bear, but before they could fire, Gaiene’s soldiers opened up and wiped out the pocket of resistance, the soldiers scarcely pausing in their movement, rushing onward as the last of the dead crew members were still falling limply to the deck.

  Gaiene kept one eye on the directions to the bridge his heads-up display was providing, used his other eye to monitor the progress of the whole assault on another portion of his heads-up display, and used his other eye to watch for immediate danger. “That’s three eyes,” a young Conner Gaiene had protested to the veteran who had told him what commanding an assault required. The veteran had smiled sadly. “By the time you reach command, if you’re any good, you’ll know how to make two eyes do the work of three. Or you’ll die.”

  Gaiene hadn’t died though that particular veteran had, not long after imparting some painfully acquired wisdom to him. It sometimes bothered Gaiene that he had trouble remembering what the woman had looked like before an Alliance bombardment projectile had blown her into tiny pieces.

  “Looking good,” Safir’s voice reported to Gaiene.

  The brigade was seizing more and more of the ship, resistance in most places crumbling as what was happening became clear to the survivors in the crew. “Don’t relax,” Gaiene warned everyone. “Mobile forces can fight well when their backs are to the wall, and there are supposed to be a lot of snakes aboard this can.”

  “We found some of them!” a unit leader warned on the heels of Gaiene’s words. “Snakes!” Brighter symbols popped up in an area far from Gaiene, showing a bastion of resistance where Internal Security Service agents were putting up a fierce fight near the central weapons-control citadel.

  “Handle that, Safir,” Gaiene directed. Weapons control was Safir’s objective, so she was already in that area.

  Battle cruisers were almost as large as battleships but longer and leaner, presenting an apparently endless series of passageways leading to an apparently endless series of more passageways. The command staff in the battle cruiser’s bridge citadel had awoken to their peril and were trying to lock isolation and blast barriers in place to seal off routes through the ship, but Gaiene’s soldiers had brought the means to either blow holes through those barriers or locally override the lock commands.

  Shouts of triumph erupted across the command circuit. Annoyed by the noise, Gaiene checked his display and saw that the nest of snakes had been eliminated. All dead, of course. General Drakon might issue orders that opponents be allowed to surrender, but snakes rarely tried to surrender and, if they did, were killed by vengeful soldiers anyway. The General surely wouldn’t mind, as he knew as well as the rest of them did that snakes occupied a different category than regular forces did.

  Gaiene and the soldiers with him ran past a group of crew members waving enthusiastic greetings and bloodied implements. At their feet lay two others, both newly dead, both wearing the standard suits for Internal Security Service snakes. Another fire team broke off to guard the new volunteers who had formerly worked for Supreme CEO Haris before tendering their resignations in blood.

  Most of the ship had been overrun, the survivors of the crew being herded into compartments under guard, but the three citadels were locked down, armor sealed and defenses active. While the controls on another blast door were hacked, Gaiene paused, evaluating the situation.

  Main propulsion-control citadel, weapons-control citadel, bridge citadel. The last-ditch defensive barriers put in place on Syndicate ships to defend against enemy boarding parties, as well as against mutiny by crews of workers who lacked loyalty to their masters and were kept in line by discipline, fear, and the ever-present snakes of the ISS. “How does it look, Safir?”

  Lieutenant Colonel Safir sounded annoyed. “Not too bad. We lost some people taking out the snake stronghold. The power core has been overrun and the remote operating cables cut, so the snakes or the other Ulindis can’t overload it. I think the propulsion citadel will surrender, but I’m guessing we’ll have to crack open the weapons citadel.”

  “Get into the weapons citadel and make sure they can’t fire on the battleship, which they may realize they can attempt if they are given time to think. I’m closing in on the bridge citadel,” Gaiene said. The blast ba
rrier blocking him whooshed open, and he took off at a trot, surrounded by the soldiers with him, their movements in the power-assisted armor oddly dainty as they used the gliding steps most effective inside a warship’s confined spaces. “I’ll give the bridge crew a chance to do this the easy way as soon as I get into position.”

  Danger signs popped up on Gaiene’s display, warning that the defenses around the bridge citadel were near. He had the means to break those defenses and get into the citadel, but that would cost time and lives as well as messing up parts of this ship. Gaiene ordered the soldiers with him to halt in a safe area outside the bridge-citadel defenses and looked around for a comm panel. “Here we are. Bridge. Acknowledge, you fools.”

  The panel lit to show a mobile forces officer in the command seat on the bridge. Gaiene knew the look in the man’s eyes. He had seen it many times before. Disbelief. Shock. Fear. Confusion. That look meant Gaiene had to keep pushing, keep the man from recovering, keep him from thinking clearly. “We have your unit under our control and will soon breach your citadels. However, in the interest of avoiding excessive damage, we are willing to offer you the chance to surrender, open the citadels, and deactivate their defenses. If you surrender, you will be allowed to live, and given your freedom. We’ll keep our word. We’re not snakes. Every snake in this star system is dead. If you refuse to surrender, and we have to blast our way in, there will be no mercy shown, and your dead bodies will be tossed into space. Or perhaps you’ll only be mostly dead when we toss you into space. We’ll keep that promise as well. Make your decision now. I am not a patient man.”

  Shouting could be heard in the background of the bridge citadel while the battle cruiser’s commander stared at Gaiene. After several seconds Gaiene prodded him. “Now. Surrender or die. I won’t ask a third time.”

  The man looked toward something behind him and must have seen what he needed to see, since he turned back to face Gaiene and nodded in a jerky fashion. “I agree. Surrender. I surrender the ship.” A hand that Gaiene could see was trembling danced spasmodically over the controls at the command seat. “Deactivating defenses.”

  “Make sure the other citadels do the same.”

  “I don’t have control of the weapons citadel! Haris’s snakes are in there!”

  “Lieutenant Colonel Safir, the weapons citadel is occupied by snakes. You will have to take that one the hard way.”

  Safir replied with grim satisfaction. “I thought so. Everything’s ready. Commencing assault.”

  The danger markers on Gaiene’s display were winking out as defenses around the bridge citadel shut down. He gestured, and several soldiers scuttled forward, around the corner of the passageway and toward the massive armored hatch sealing off the bridge.

  No attacks erupted from hidden traps, so Gaiene and the rest of his soldiers followed, additional units closing in on the bridge from other sides and the decks above and below it. Armor and defenses were in place in those locations, too, but the ship’s commander appeared to be abiding by his agreement to surrender.

  Vibration could be felt as the heavy bolts holding the hatch locked ponderously retracted, then the hatch itself pulled back.

  Soldiers stormed inside, their weapons ready. Gaiene came with them, a last rush of adrenaline fueling the elation of victory.

  The bridge crew were standing with raised arms, hands resting on their heads, most of them at their duty stations. But several were gathered around the spot where a man and a woman in the standard suits of the ISS lay on the deck. Gaiene gave the snakes a dismissive glance that took in the unnatural angles of their heads that bespoke broken necks. “Make sure they’re dead,” he ordered one of the officers with him. “Make sure everyone else up here is disarmed, then get them down to one of the holding areas. Lieutenant Bulgori, get on the comm controls and let the battleship know we have the bridge of this unit and will soon have the rest in hand.”

  A series of faint shocks registered through the hull of the battle cruiser. Gaiene switched his attention and his display to a close-up on Lieutenant Colonel Safir’s portion of the brigade. The defenses outside the weapons-control citadel had been destroyed, allowing soldiers to get close enough to place breaching charges powerful enough to defeat even the protection around a citadel. The shocks had marked holes being blown in the armor guarding the citadel, and now antipersonnel and electromagnetic-pulse grenades were being fired in through the openings, followed by assault forces with rifles blazing.

  A few snakes were still standing, their outlines barely visible through the murk created in the weapons-control citadel by the breaching charges and grenades. Gaiene barely had time to focus on the remote images before the shapes of the snakes were torn ragged by scores of shots and tossed aside.

  “We have the propulsion-control and weapons-control citadels,” Safir reported. “Propulsion surrendered as soon as their defenses deactivated.”

  “Thank you,” Gaiene replied. “I fear we’re going to hear some complaints from our shipyard people about the damage to the weapons-control area.”

  “We did try to minimize the damage,” Safir said with a grin.

  “Yes, but the repair people will be unreasonable. You know how they are. You broke it. It’s our job to break things, but they never understand that. Speaking of jobs, you did a good one as second-in-command, fulfilling every expectation of your superiors in the finest tradition of etc., etc., etc. Let’s get the internal sensors back online and make certain there aren’t any crew members hiding in out-of-the-way places.”

  “We’re on it, Colonel. It looks like we captured between four and five hundred crew members. This ship was a little short-handed.”

  “Not as much as it is now.”

  “We have comms with the Midway,” Lieutenant Bulgori reported. “A minute after our attack began, Gryphon and Basilisk opened fire at close range on the four HuKs escorting this battle cruiser. Three of them were destroyed, and the fourth surrendered after taking propulsion damage.”

  Thank you, Kapitan Stein. A pity you don’t seem inclined to celebrate our victory with me in a very inappropriate fashion. Gaiene looked around, weary, sensing the color flowing out of the world once more. They had won. It didn’t really matter, nothing really mattered, but at least the attack had provided a momentary lift to his deadened spirits. And it had provided a victory for Artur Drakon, who had kept him from dying in a labor camp or a gutter. It was all as good as anything could be in a universe that had ceased to hold meaning.

  The commander’s seat on the battle cruiser’s bridge lay vacant and somehow forlorn. Gaiene walked over to it and sat down, half of his mind monitoring his soldiers as they went about the business of making secure the battle cruiser they had just captured, and the other half wondering how long it would be before he could get drunk again. Secure the ship, turn it over to the mobile forces people, then find out where the shipyard workers kept their booze.

  It was always good to plan things out.

  GIVEN how their last private conversation had ended, Drakon was surprised to see Iceni smiling at him when she called on their secure line.

  “I wanted to thank you, General, for my lovely new battle cruiser.”

  “Your lovely new battle cruiser?” Drakon asked.

  “Now, don’t spoil the present by getting tightfisted.” Iceni smiled wider. “I may be a witch at times, but I’m not an ungrateful witch. In all seriousness, I know I owe this to your soldiers and your decision to participate in the operation. Once we get the battle cruiser back in shape and the battleship operational, we’ll have a defense for this star system that will knock Boyens on his butt if he shows up here again.”

  “Colonel Gaiene said there wasn’t much damage to the battle cruiser,” Drakon said.

  She laughed, a sound he found unexpectedly pleasant after their strained relationship of recent weeks. “That’s a ground forces assessment. Your soldiers, and
I know they had no choice, trashed some important equipment, blew out a lot of hatches, and even blew some holes in bulkheads that aren’t supposed to have holes in them. That all has to be fixed. Most of the survivors among the crew appear willing to join us, but there aren’t that many survivors compared to the size of the crew a battle cruiser needs.”

  “If we’re lucky, Colonel Rogero and your Kommodor will solve that problem. They should be bringing back enough veterans to crew both Midway and the new battle cruiser.”

  “Yes. What should we name it, Artur?” She gave him a happily inquiring look. “I named the battleship. You should give a name to our new battle cruiser.”

  “Really?” Gwen was in a good mood. Of course, he couldn’t expect to produce a battle cruiser for her every time she got inexplicably moody, but, hopefully, that wouldn’t be necessary too often. “Do you want to name battle cruisers after stars, too?”

  “I think it would be a good idea. But . . .” Iceni pursed her lips in thought. “If we name the ship after one of the nearby stars, they might either take that as an indication we feel a sense of ownership toward them or give them the mistaken impression that they have some rights to the battle cruiser.”

  “That’s a concern,” Drakon agreed. “How about if we name the battle cruiser after a star nobody occupies? Pele.”

  “Pele? A star occupied by the enigmas?”

  “The enigmas kicked the Syndicate out of Pele,” Drakon said, “but according to what Black Jack’s fleet found, there’s no enigma presence there.”

  “Hmmm.” Iceni looked sideways, considering. “We are the frontline defense of humanity against the enigmas. Declaring some sort of tie to Pele would emphasize that.”