A Choice of Treasons (89 page)

“Computer,” her implants said in Ballin’s voice. “Load, but do not execute,
whore’s brat
.”

The emotionless voice of the computer answered him.
Loaded and standing by.

The two guards in the corridor looked her way, but seeing more AI uniforms they remained bored. “Fifteen meters, Captain.”

She decided to take the one on the right first. “Ten meters, Captain.”

The two guards were turning toward her as her implants said. “Computer, execute
whore’s brat
.”

She completed two more strides before it happened, and then suddenly the blast-reinforced shields slid aside with a loud
whoosh
. Startled, both guards looked back toward the shields, then back at her, but she already had her gun out. She fired as she dove toward the opening behind them, saw the one on the right crumple and fall. A bullet whizzed past her ear as she hit the deck sliding, and the one on the left went down. She slid into Prime Central on her side, caught movement out of the corner of her eye coming from the open hatchway to the security station. She popped the pin on a grenade, slid it along the floor into the security station. She was too close when it blew, too close.

CHAPTER 41: LOYALTIES SHIFT

Prime was constructed with acoustic baffling in its bulkheads, but it was still just a big hunk of metal and plast that transmitted sound like a kettledrum regardless of the efforts of her designers. Yagell’s grenade was too far distant to be heard inside
Down Time Charlie’s
, but
Cinesstar’s
guns, a ship’s guns, were a different matter altogether. York had ordered Jakobee to disable any weapon on any ship that might be turned on
Cinesstar
, specifically the AI cruiser docked in Prime’s Yard. Jakobee wasn’t using
Cinesstar’s
main batteries, which, from the inside would punch massive holes in Prime’s hull, but the secondaries and defensive stations were taking the cruiser apart piece by piece, and with
Down Time Charlie’s
close proximity to the docks, the resulting din was frightening. Everyone inside the dimly lit bar looked up from whatever they were doing and froze, for in all the centuries that Prime had been orbiting Terr a ship’s guns had never before been fired
inside
the station.

“Captain, Simorka here. Three dead, plus Yagell’s in bad shape, probably won’t make it. I’ve got six actives, we’ve got Prime Central, and we’re sealed up tight.”

York looked across the table at Palevi, silently mouthed the question, “Simorka?”

“The green second looie off
Irriahm
,” Palevi said. “The red head. She’s learned a bit.”

York keyed his implants. “Keep telemetry and com traffic normal. I don’t want anyone to know we’ve done this. Hyer, Simorka needs you.”

“Docks were a pushover, Captain. We’re on our way now, double time, experiencing no resistance. Ten minutes.”

York was about to ask where Notay was, but he got his answer when twenty marines in full combat kit burst through the establishment’s entrance and fanned out, weapon’s at ready. The patrons and employees of
Down Time Charlie’s
hit the deck, leaving York and Palevi the only two above table level. As York stood a sharp pain shot up his side, the room tilted crazily and he staggered. Palevi caught him and braced him against a wall. “You don’t look so good, Captain.”

The sergeant turned his head. “Medic,” he shouted in that drill-sergeant voice.

They laid York out on a table, and the medic cut away his tunic and removed the dressing they’d applied in the hospital. The medic frowned and shook his head. “This wound ain’t bad enough to cause this much bleeding.”

York gritted his teeth and growled through the pain, “Can you stop it?”

“Sure, Cap’em. Just take a minute, but it bothers me.”

“And give me a
kikker
.”

The medic pressed the muzzle of an injector against his throat and pulled the trigger. York felt a slight sting, then a wave of nausea washed over him followed by intense anger. “Ahhh!” he shouted. “I hate that shit.”

But it did the job. The medic stopped the bleeding and York could stand on his own. The pain didn’t go away, but it became a distant thing. The marines formed a phalanx around him and Palevi, and they headed for
Cinesstar
.

“Captain on the bridge.”

York started barking orders before he was seated at his console. “Prepare to cast off. Cappik, what’s our status?”

“Full combat status, sir. Use her and abuse her.”

“Captain, Hyer here. We’ve secured Prime Central. When they want her back they’re gonna have one hell of a firefight on their hands.”

Move, move, don’t stop, don’t think, just move.

York surveyed the carnage in the navy yard. The AI cruiser was a mess; taken by surprise, with no shield power and at close range, even
Cinesstar’s
secondaries had been devastating. Jakobee, thinking on his own, had disabled every craft in the yard on the chance someone might try ramming
Cinesstar
. Shell craters from stray fire pocked the rest of the Yard with debris scattered everywhere, but for now the yard was silent and still.

Eldinow gingerly applied power to
Cinesstar’s
drive and eased her away from the dock. He turned her nose toward the star filled entrance to the yard and nudged her gently forward.

“Captain, Simorka here. Prime’s engineering section got a message off to Fleet, told them we’ve taken over Prime Central. They think we’re
feddie
saboteurs. Now they’re trying to isolate the command center’s operations access. I don’t think they can, in fact we have more control than they do, but the weapons stations on Prime got the word and won’t take orders from us. I’ve managed to keep the orbital weapons platforms isolated, so we still control them, but I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

York put the sit-map on one of his screens. The two AI destroyers in orbit around Luna and the other in orbit around Terr were powering up, coming into the command grid. No doubt they had orders to converge on Prime and take her back. The AI patrol boats were already converging, and more were lifting off Luna and Terr. The navy light destroyer in orbit around Terr was showing no signs of life.

Simorka was looking at the same situation map. “Captain, I can try allocating those AI destroyers and patrol boats as targets for the platforms.”

The platforms wouldn’t knowingly fire on friendly forces. “You’ll have to delete them first from the grid, then reassign them as Kinathin warships and allocate them as hostile targets. Don’t worry about the patrol boats. We’ll handle them. And try deleting us from the command grid entirely.”

Move, move, don’t stop, don’t think, just move.

Cinesstar’s
bow was just edging out of the yard into open space. As yet, no one knew she was anything but another friendly ship. “Full shield power,” York ordered. “Eldinow, keep us in close to Prime’s hull. We’re going to be under fire from her stations shortly, and the closer we are the fewer can target on us. Jakobee, target on Prime’s weapons stations, concentrating our main batteries on her primaries. Simorka, cut all power to Prime’s shields.”

It was an incredible sight, a heavy cruiser almost hull-to-hull with the giant station. Fighting at distances of a hundred thousand kilometers was close-in fighting, and here there were no more than a hundred meters separating them. “All stations,” York said, feeling a certain calm wash over him. “Commence firing.”

It was an all too familiar din, the pounding of
Cinesstar’s
guns as she spit death at her enemy. Without shield power Prime’s weapons stations were fodder. York’s crew disabled the secondaries and defensive pods easily, but as Eldinow eased the ship around the curve of Prime’s hull and the first of her main batteries came into view,
Cinesstar’s
power plant redlined twice before the big gun turret blossomed into a plume of fire and escaping gas. They continued that way, easing slowly around the curve of Prime’s hull, taking on the big turrets one at a time. Prime’s main batteries were far more powerful than
Cinesstar’s
, but with no shield power and no coordination from Prime Central, and against the combined might of all of
Cinesstar’s
guns, the ship took only a little damage.

York was more interested in those AI destroyers. The one in orbit around Terr was dead in space, with enough nearby debris to indicate serious damage, while another was engaging one of the platforms. The third had apparently sustained some damage and was now hiding behind the targeting shadow of Luna.

“All stations, cease fire.”

Jakobee’s command pulled York’s attention away from the sit-map. Prime was still intact, but her outer hull was a ruin of shell craters and escaping gasses, and she had no functional weapons station. For an instant York was tempted to redock, pull Simorka and her team out, then run for it and leave the empire to its own fucked up mess.

Move, move, don’t stop, don’t think, just move.

“Mister Eldinow. Set course for Luna, maximum sublight drive. Execute.”

Cinesstar’s
hull groaned as Eldinow firewalled her sublight drive. They were about four hundred thousand kilometers from Luna. At ten thousand gravities it would take them one hundred forty-eight seconds, almost a minute and a half, to reach the halfway point. They’d cut drive, flip her over and begin decelerating just as hard.

“Mister Jakobee, target the naval base at Mare Crisia. All stations, full saturation barrage.”

“Targeted and standing by, sir.”

“Commence firing at turnover.”

York turned to the computer. “Computer. Confirm access.”

Access ring-zero confirmed
.

“One hundred seconds to turnover,” Gant said.

“Computer,” York continued. “Access patch—
Cinesstar
main-zero to Mare Crisia main-zero. Execute.”

“Ninety seconds to turnover,” Gant said while York waited for a response from the computer. “Eighty seconds . . . seventy seconds . . . sixty seconds . . .”

The computer said,
Confirm access level.

“. . . fifty seconds . . .”

He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Access ring-zero.”

“. . . forty seconds . . .”

Confirm access code.

“. . . thirty seconds . . .”

“Access Three Charlie Two Niner One Niner Alpha.”

“. . . twenty seconds . . .”

Access patch—
Cinesstar
main-zero to Mare Crisia main-zero complete. Access ring-zero.

“. . . ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . .”

Eldinow cut the drive and simultaneously flipped
Cinesstar
over. As he firewalled the drive again Jakobee gave the order to commence firing.

It was an impressive display. Every weapon on
Cinesstar
was throwing ordinance at Mare Crisia, a rain of fire and death that streamed down toward the surface of Luna as if the heavens had opened up with the fires of hell. But Mare Crisia was the largest navy base in the empire, and her defensive capabilities were massive. They intercepted most of the heavy ordinance long before it touched the surface, had recovered from the initial onslaught and were firing back.

Cinesstar’s
defensive pods now turned their efforts to intercepting the incoming ordinance, and York watched the power drain to the hull-shielding flare and jump.

“Mister Jakobee. Arm 20 one-megatonne warheads for contact detonation, and launch at two second intervals.”

Cinesstar’s
launch crews started slamming warheads into transition, while damage reports appeared on York’s screens. They were thirty seconds out from the surface of Luna when they took serious damage aft and lost some sublight drive capability. Eldinow could only get seven thousand gravities out of her. “Veer north of the terminator, Mister Eldinow, we’ll have to overshoot.

“Mister Jakobee. Arm a one gigatonne warhead for detonation at an altitude of one hundred kilometers over Mare Crisia, and stand by for launch.”

“Armed and standing by, sir.”

Jakobee had just launched the twelfth one megatonne warhead, and like the others it was intercepted and detonated in space about a thousand kilometers above Mare Crisia. The resulting transition noise was phenomenal, and targeting on both sides was becoming difficult.