A Choice of Treasons (31 page)

Andow obeyed without question.

“And keep your hands off that console,” York growled. “Don’t touch anything.”

“Sir, the aft launch room is manned, but Palevi’s crew is having trouble getting forward.”

“Lieutenant Commander McGeahn reporting for duty, sir.”

York looked up and found the young woman he’d met at the embassy on Dumark. All he could think was that she had no combat experience. At least she was smart enough not to take command. He nodded at her. “Assist Miss Gant at the Scan Console.”

Maggie and Frank showed up before McGeahn had herself strapped in. York gave Maggie the helm. Frank had a smear of blood on one cheek, and he looked groggy, but he had no one in any better shape, so he gave him fire control.

He made a quick call down to Alsa Yan in sickbay. “I need a med tech up here fast,” he pleaded. “I’ve got wounded.”

Yan shook her head. “Sorry, York, I’ve got wounded coming out my ears. Can’t spare anyone until—”

“God damn it, Alsa!” York growled. “My wounded are sitting at critical combat stations, and we’ve got Federals closing on us.”

Yan hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “What do you need?”

“Send me someone with stimulants:
phets
, ag hypes,
kikkers
; I don’t care what.”

“Transition flare, sir,” Gant shouted. “Dead astern. Range one hundred million kilometers and closing at point-eight lights.”

McGeahn spoke, panic in her voice. “He’s coming after us, sir. He can start targeting on us any moment now.”

York needed McGeahn to remain calm. “Steady as she goes. He can’t target on us if he can’t see us. Everyone keep a close eye on our systems. I don’t want anything to show on his screens. Miss Gant, any sign of that hunter-killer?”

“Nothing, sir.”

York glanced at his Engineering summary. Cappik had one more chamber lit, though he was holding it barely above shutdown. McGeahn’s nerves were ready to blow. York could feel it, and that meant everyone else could too. She needed something to do, and York needed someone to run the figures on a transition plan. “Miss McGeahn. Move over to the navigation console and compute a transition at ninety degrees to our previous course.”

“Sir,” Gant said. “That
feddie
in sublight is closing fast. And that second transition wake is coming in too.”

York barked out orders. “Miss Votak, stand by. Miss McGeahn, we’re going to need that nav run. Mister Jondee, check her figures. Mister Stara, instruct all weapons stations to stand by.”

York paused, forced his voice into a low, even, calm tone. “All right, everyone. It’s party time.”

CHAPTER 14: ILLUSION

“Captain,” Ducan Soe said calmly. “We’ve got one of our own destroyers climbing up our ass.”

Jewel Thaaline glanced at Tac’tac’ah, her most inexperienced officer. The young man had a bead of sweat running down his brow as he concentrated on holding the
Pride
an infinitesimal degree above transition. “Tac’tac’ah,” Jewel said. “You’re doing just fine. Steady as she goes.”

“I don’t like this,” Soe grumbled. “We’re about to ram that cruiser in front of us, and that destroyer behind us is about to overtake us, and we’ll all be right on top of that damn
imper
at the same time. Let’s down-transit now, stay back and let the big boys have him.”

Jewel shook her head. “Negative. A single transition flare, without anything to mask it! That
imper
will pinpoint us as sure as I’m sitting here.”

“I don’t think he’s that smart,” Soe argued. “Only a real amateur would have given us a clear target signature like that. We hurt him. We hurt him bad.”

Jewel shrugged. “Maybe.” She looked over her shoulder at Innay, asked, “Andro?”

Innay shrugged and shook his head. “That was no amateur who set that ship down on Dumark.”

Jewel agreed. “Let’s play it a little cautious.”

Tac’tac’ah interrupted. “Captain, here comes that destroyer behind us.”

Jewel glanced at her screens. The transition wake of one of their own destroyers was closing on them fast, and they in turn were closing fast on one of their own cruisers in sublight in front of them.

“Transition flare,” Soe barked. “Dead ahead. No, correct that. That was a detonation—ten megatonnes, maybe more.” He flinched. “There’s another one, right on top of the first. No sign of any transition launch. That fucking
imper
scattered mines.”

It all fell into place, and Jewel knew what to do. “Chief Innay. Stand by with a warhead. Something big. Be prepared to target on any signal we pick up from that
imper
. If you get anything, transition to sublight and fire in the same instant.”

“Here comes that destroyer,” Tac’tac’ah said. “Ten seconds . . . Nine . . . Eight . . .”

Jewel struggled to remain calm. “Steady as she goes, Tac’tac’ah.”

“Seven . . . Six . . . Five . . .”

Soe pleaded, “You know we’re driving right into a mine field!”

“Four . . . Three . . .”

Jewel kept talking. “Take it easy, Tac’tac’ah. Don’t let that destroyer’s wake knock us into sublight.”

“Two . . . One . . .”

York let McGeahn cheer. She was still too inexperienced to understand that one
feddie
slamming into a mine was only the beginning. And that medic had just made the rounds, popping them each in the shoulder with an injector. McGeahn, like all the rest of them, was just getting over the initial rush of whatever the medic had given them. Then she quickly realized the veterans around her weren’t joining in and she shut up.

“Captain,” Gant said, her voice a monotonous calm. “I’ve got a second and third wake at extreme range, too far to guess on their make or type. But the next one’s coming in now. I’d say it’s a destroyer. Looks like he spotted those detonations, probably guessed we’ve trailed a mine field, now he’s gonna try to run it in transition.”

York took a quick glance at his console to make sure there were no surprises. “Mister Stara, tell the aft launch room to arm two ten megatonne warheads and stand by.”

York opened the command channel to Engineering. “Mister Cappik. Stand by for full combat status. We’ll need gravity and shields first.”

Gant glanced his way, frowned, didn’t understand what he was doing. Like all the rest she’d forgotten about that hunter-killer out there. “Miss Gant. I want all your scan activity recorded at highest resolution.

“Miss Votak. Stand by at the helm. Have you got your course yet?”

“Yes, sir, I do. And I checked it myself.”

“Ranging,” Gant barked. “Three hundred million kilometers and closing fast.”

York felt a familiar calm wash over him. Everything seemed clear, concise, obvious. He knew what was going to happen now.

“I’ll take command now.”

York looked over his shoulder, found Soladin floating in the weightless atmosphere just above him and to one side. York shook his head. “Shut up and strap yourself down somewhere.”

“What?” Soladin demanded. “You can’t—”

“Perra!” Andow barked angrily. The senator looked like a scared, little man. He waved to the seat next to him. “Just do as he says, Perra.”

“Two hundred million kilometers . . .”

York forgot Soladin, scanned his screens one last time. “Are you targeting, Mister Stara?”

“Not too well, sir. He’s still on the other side of the noise from those mine detonations.”

York spoke carefully. “Mister Stara and Miss Gant. We’ll fire one warhead at that destroyer on my command. When that warhead detonates, whether we hit the destroyer or not, watch closely for a transition launch that’ll seem to come from empty space just behind the detonation. Target on it, and fire the second warhead immediately without waiting for my command. Is that clear?”

They both looked at him oddly, but acknowledged the orders.

“One hundred million kilometers . . .” Gant said, then her voice suddenly shifted, lost its calm. “Fifty . . . He’s into the mine field . . . and . . . he’s through it, clear and clean.”

“I’ve got him, sir,” Stara shouted.

Gant’s voice was almost hysterical. “Forty million kilometers . . .”

York tried to speak calmly. “Let’s show them our colors. Mister Jondee—gravity and shields. Miss Votak—all ahead full.”

York settled into his couch as gravity was restored. Maggie firewalled the sublight drive and
Cinesstar’s
hull groaned. York glanced at his readouts; they were accelerating at a right angle to the
feddie’s
course, at just under ten thousand gravities, a dismal crawl compared to the
feddie
bearing down on them in transition. And they were now easily visible to anyone in sublight.

York watched
Cinesstar’s
power demand climb as Maggie fed more energy to the sublight drive. The shields drew no power as long as they took no hits.

“Thirty million kilometers . . .”

“Mister Stara,” York said. “Fire one.”

Frank flinched for an instant, and
Cinesstar’s
hull thrummed. “One away, sir,” he said. “Detonation in three seconds.”

York tensed. “All power priority to the shields.”

He’d barely finished speaking when Frank shouted, “Direct hit, sir . . . My god!”

“Mister Stara,” York growled. “Watch your defensive stations.”

Frank shut up, turned back to his console and stared at his screens . . .

The drive power suddenly dropped back to zero and they went weightless again as the computer diverted all power to the shields.
Cinesstar’s
hull screamed and the readouts on York’s screens shot off scale. A gravity wave pulsed through the ship and everyone’s hair stood on end as the internal fields reached maximum. Frank slapped a switch on his console, the hull thrummed again and he barked, “Two away, sir.”

“Miss Votak,” York snarled, having trouble sounding calm. “Get us the hell out of here. I want transition—soonest.”

“Detonation,” Frank shouted. “Though I don’t know what the hell we hit.”

Soladin shouted, “What in God’s name was that?”

York looked his way, saw Andow also anxiously awaiting an explanation. He spoke slowly, one eye on his screens, “That was a warhead from that hunter-killer. She waited for us to fire at that destroyer, used the flare from our transition launch to get an accurate fix on us. Then she down-transited and fired her own warhead at us, using the detonation of our warhead to mask her actions. It almost worked.”

York’s headset suddenly filled with noise, Cappik shouting in the background. “Captain, this is Cappik. I’ve got trouble down here.” York looked at his screens. The starboard chamber had redlined even with no drain on the shields. “Permission to shut down Starboard?”

“Permission granted. And I’ll try to get you some help.”

York put in a call to Palevi, told him to send Cappik anyone experienced in a contamination suit.

“Ballin!” The voice was Sierka’s, raised in a high-pitched scream. “I told you never to come on this bridge again.”

York glanced back over his shoulder, spotted Sierka stepping out of the lift. It would take Sierka a few precious seconds to step around the nav console, then slip between fire control and com. York glanced at his screens. There were three
feddie
transition wakes headed their way, but too far to matter for the moment, and the expanding fireballs from the two
feddies
they’d burned. Somewhere there was that hunter-killer, running silent, all but invisible. But for all she knew
Cinesstar
was fully operational, and a hunter-killer was no match for a heavy cruiser, so she wouldn’t give away her position by trying another shot. Maggie was pushing
Cinesstar
with everything she had, would make transition shortly. And Cappik had that chamber out of redline.

“Ballin, get off my bridge.”

With a minimum of movement York touched a switch on the captain’s console, opened a private channel to Gant, whispered into his pickup, “Anda. Continue to record all exterior activity at highest resolution as long as possible. Please.”

“Ballin, get out of that couch.”

York lifted his hand off the console, cutting the circuit to Gant, looked at Sierka, who stood next to him in a torn tunic, one arm in a sling, a smear of dried blood on his cheek. York nodded, pulled the headset off carefully. “Aye, aye, sir.”

Sierka pointed at the lift. “Get out of here.”

York lifted himself carefully out of the couch. It felt odd that he wasn’t angry or upset, but he realized he was maintaining a delicate balance, that if he allowed Sierka’s hysteria one instant of control, he would probably turn on the man and kill him with his bare hands.