A Deep Sleep (Valhalla Book 1) (30 page)

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Authors: Tyler Totten

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Military, #Space Marine

BOOK: A Deep Sleep (Valhalla Book 1)
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“Admiral Du, sir. Major Shen is calling to remind you about your meeting today at eighteen-hundred hours in your day cabin.” His communications officer broke into Du’s thoughts.

“My eighteen-hundred meeting, yes of course I had completely forgotten. Please tell the Major he has my thanks for reminding me and that I shall be there.” Du thanked the ancestors that the Major was a quick thinker.
We need a new plan, perhaps a desperate one
. Du grimaced, the ISS officers would need to be dealt with.

 

DP Draconis System

RF
Iron Fist

Corporal Gennady Kapista sprinted down a service access-way, he didn’t know which one, in the auxiliary engineering spaces of the massive battleship. Everything had fallen apart so quickly, he still wasn’t completely sure what had happened. His Federal Security Service unit had been deployed by the local governor onto
Iron Fist
, a move that had surprised Gennady greatly. Russian Federation warships had their own infantry units already accompanying them. Once they had boarded the shuttle for orbit his commander, Captain Sukin, had informed them that they were to arrest Admiral Rogov and his entire command staff. Governor Yakimenko then wanted them to demand the rest of the fleet in orbit declare allegiance to him. That’s when Gennady had begun to understand, this was a coup of sorts, that Yakimenko was declaring himself master of DP Draconis. Those who sided with the governor, they would be serving under the new government. Yakimenko was promising favorable peace terms with the Americans and prosperity for the system.

Any man who wanted out, well that wasn’t really an option.

For his part, Kapista figured that this was the best option. The trouble had started almost as soon as they had boarded the ship. Kapista could only assume that Admiral Rogov had heard of the Governor’s little coup sometime between their docking with the battleship and before they made it to the flag bridge. Just outside of the flag bridge corridor, the bridge guards in sight, they’d been ambushed. Security forces had opened up from several of the side corridors and compartments. Kapista credited his escape with some overly eager members of
Iron Fist’s
security detachment. They had opened fire before the entire team of twelve was in the open. Kapista and three others immediately ducked back around the corner, with Lieutenant Emanuil and Private Terebov scrambling back around to join them. Lieutenant Emanuil had ordered Kapista and Private Terebov to double back and try to flank them. No sooner had Kapista rounded the corner to start back had he run into two armored security members, coming to close the trap. Armor took time to get into, Kapista knew, and so these two were late to the party. He had thrown himself into the nearest zero-g ladderwell, sparing him from the ceramic flechettes that tore Terebov in half. Kapista’s rifle had become lodged on a rung and he hadn’t stopped to free it, merely slipping out of the sling and continuing to propel himself downward. He heard noise above him and dove through the first offshoot. He had still been tagged in the calf by a flechette, ripping his uniform trousers and causing a minor but bloody wound.

“Reconsidering that whole coup thing, now aren’t you Gennady?” He mocked himself softly. He knew he needed a way off this ship, get back to the orbital station somehow. That was, as far as he knew, under the control of the FSB by now. Captain Sukin had told them it was being captured as they spoke. “Lifepods!” His mind working through to the solution. He continued to move deeper into the auxillairy spaces, looking for a console. A noise made him drop and whirl around. He drew his service pistol and checked the action. It wouldn’t help him against power-armor troops, but he doubted they could maneuver effectively in these tight confines without causing damage to the equipment. No, he would only face non-powered security here. He unconsciously ran his hand over his own flexible ballistic armor.
I’m not in power armor either.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Admiral Rogov glared at his tactical display, watching as sensors updated the plot to reflect the sudden change in allegiance of units in the system. Already the massive orbital fortress and its smaller missile platforms turned an ugly crimson.

That slimy bastard of a governor!
Rogov raged. Already, the threat receiver was lighting up as the battleship was swept by targeting radars from the rebellious station. The situation was about to get very hot.

“Sir, we are being painted.” Called out his Sensor Operator.

“Yes, I can see that.” Rogov said gruffly. “What is the status of the fleet?”

“The destroyers haven’t rearmed yet, sir, and
Bystryy
is still operating on a single fusion reactor.” His aide reported grimly. The fleet had recently tangled with an American gunboat squadron, backed by two long range frigates. The frigates had come as a surprise, appearing from nowhere and putting a missile into his only cruiser,
Bystryy
. He was of an older design, but still quite tough. He accelerated like a pig, however, and even worse so with only one of his three fusion reactors. He’d never be able to stand in the line against the battlestation.

“Order him to come about and head for the Slip Gate to VVO 5. Warn HQ that Governor Yakimenko has rebelled, attempting to take effective control the system. Requesting reinforcements immediately. System defenses in rebellion.” Rogov snapped out.

“Aye sir.”

“Vampir, Vampir!” Sensors called out. “Battlestation has launched many missiles, thirty and count still increasing!”

“Calm yourself!” Rogov snapped. “All ships, weapons free. Engage hostile missiles. Prepare for snap firing of all ready missiles.”

“Weapons release acknowledged, sir.” Communications responded crisply.

“What is the status of
Bystryy
?” Rogov asked Comms.

“They’re coming about sir, maneuvering for clear space now. They have to clear the repair dock, sir.” Comms reported.

“Dammit.” Rogov swore under his breath. He felt the launch of his own missiles at the battlestation. He looked at the plot and saw that his five ships had launched just fifty missiles, thirty of them from
Iron Fist
. He swore again, that wouldn’t be enough to get through the battlestation’s powerful point defenses. Meanwhile, his own fleet had to deal with nearly sixty, with somewhat weaker point defenses. Rogov had a sour taste in his mouth. This was not a fight he could win and Rogov was a man who expected to win. The American gunboats had learned that. He had dispatched six of the ten and one of the frigates for the loss of just one destroyer, plus the damaged
Bystryy
. It had left him with almost no munitions, however, and the destroyers hadn’t had the chance to fully re-arm. The tender, Rogov was relieved to see, was running just ahead of
Bystryy
, and heading out of system with it. All of the missiles from the rebellious station were targeted on his own ships, not the two running for the system’s Alpha Slip Gate.

“Missiles entering our point defense envelope!” Sensors called out.

“What’s the status of our missiles.” Rogov snapped back.
I can’t do anything with the inbounds, but I need to know about the damn outbounds!

“In battlestation’s point defense in ten seconds!” Sensors wilted under Rogov’s fierce glare.

Rogov turned his glare on the tactical display, though it seemed unaffected. He watched his missiles as they were slowly obliterated from the display. Only two got close enough to do any damage, destroying one of the remote missile launch units and badly irradiating another. The rebellious crews of both were killed.

A poor start.
Rogov grimaced.

 

Sol System: Earth Orbit

PRC
Shanghai

Grand Admiral Chen Qiang walked briskly into the Flag conference room aboard the PRC’s newest battleship. Under construction in the only shipyard to survive, her pressurized dock had been punctured by small fighter-bomber sprint missiles, but their warheads had been conventional, sparing the dock and its precious battleship. Repairs to the dock and final fitting out of the battleship had been rushed in the last few weeks. While she was still not one-hundred percent, she was close enough. In particular, close enough for Qiang’s purposes as he had no intention of losing this one to a gunboat attack, the fate of the previous incarnation. As he swept into the room, he saw that the Major from the ISS he had met earlier was present, Major Lin. Rear Admiral Chu was not present, otherwise engaged laying the groundwork for the steps that would follow the events that were about to occur.

“Admiral, it is almost time.” Lin informed him. “All is in place. Rear Admiral Chu sent a communiqué that he is ready to initiate his portion of the plan as soon as he receives word.”

“Very well. Let’s be done with this unfortunate business.” Qiang said as if he’d tasted something bad. Regardless of how much the Party men deserved what was about to happen to them, Qiang couldn’t help but think of the innocents he was about to kill in the process. It didn’t sit well, but there was no other way to end this madness.

“Distasteful it may be, but we must do it to safeguard the future.” Major Lin said with conviction.

“So it is Major. When you are responsible for as many deaths as I have been responsible for, we can sit and discuss your convictions of what must be done. I think you’ll find that it becomes harder and harder to swallow the pill of ‘The Greater Good’.”

Lin didn’t respond. Qiang stared hard at the tactical display, this one a flat two-dimensional display of the Party bunker. The bunker was located at the bottom of the Yellow Sea, burrowed one-hundred meters under the seabed which was in turn under almost two-hundred meters of water. The pressure at that depth would be nearly thirty times atmospheric pressure. The Party bunker had been designed with this threat, among others, in mind. To combat this the bunker was divided into four sections: transportation, engineering, personnel quarters, and Party quarters. Transportation was the hub to which each section was connected. The transport section was served by small submarines but was primarily served via a twin-track rail line from Dalian.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The high-speed train rocketed down the rail, hurtling at two-hundred kilometers per hour towards the bunker. The operator was dead, killed by the man now at the train’s controls. He had no name, at least none that he remembered. He served the state and nothing else mattered. His handler had informed him that his new target was housed within the bunker and had provided him with the means to eliminate his target, nothing else mattered and no questions were asked. Another nameless servant would ensure his target was eliminated, sabotaging the only line of defense available to his target. He would not fail.

“Train six-seven-three. You have no sent the recognition protocols. Transmit the recognition protocols or we will not open the blast door for you. Respond immediately!” Insisted the voice on the other end of the radio. Trains didn’t leave Dalian without authorization, so this was more of a formality and thus the caller assumed that the operator was merely being forgetful. Having memorized the code, the nameless agent transmitted the proper code.

The bunker transport control received and logged the code before initiating the door opening procedure. The heavy door was unlocked and the hydraulics began lifting the massive door into its overhead slot. The pressure door was capable of not only holding back the massive pressure of the sea, it could also absorb a tactical nuclear blast. The train, having slowed to entry speed of just fifty kilometers per hour, slid under the door. As the third car passed under the door a carefully timed detonation occurred. The strategic, city-killing nuclear warhead hidden in the car was arranged such that it would concentrate its blast upward and the immense heat and pressure warped the massive door. The rail line and its foundation also evaporated as the blast was not entirely directed upward. The combination meant that the door would never seal again. This alone would not have been overly hazardous if not for the second detonation. Another city-killer, this one was housed in the last car in the train nearly a kilometer behind the locomotive, was also directed upward. Instead of encountering a tough armored door, this blast found only a reinforced tunnel and less than ten meters of seabed. The result was a spectacular detonation that expelled the tunnel’s overhead structure into the Yellow Sea and momentarily created a large hemispherical pocket at the bottom of the sea. The sea almost immediately reclaimed the space and, finding the way open, plunged into the rail tunnel. Greedily replacing the air in both directions the water rushed on. As it reached the still cooling blast door it surged into the transport bay. Inside, automatic safeties kicked in and began slamming interior doors and sealing off the sections, The actions were largely futile, however, because the inner doors were not built to withstand such immense pressures and one at a time, the doors failed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The other nameless agent moved swiftly, pushing his heavy cart ahead of him. The whisper quiet electric motors in each wheel propelled the service trolley down the passageway in an easy glide. He knew he had little time, the train would be reaching the transport hub any moment. He rounded another corner and his target came into site. The lock-down door to separate the transport section from the Party chambers was in site. As he approached from the Party side he heard the first alarm. The red strobing lights started almost immediately and the siren warned of the blast door closure. He propelled his cart the final meters, bringing it to rest exactly across the path of the descending doorway. As he did, he flipped open the cover of the cart’s control panel to reveal an added switch. As he flipped the switch, four thermite charges ignited, burning through the connection points for the wheels first. The wheels ceased to support the heavy cart and the cart dropped to the floor with a loud clang. As the thermite charge expended itself, the rapidly cooling floor plate and the cart welded themselves together. Nobody would be moving the cart now.

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