Abysm (24 page)

“They’re drawing our forces too close to the planet. All offensive formations, you need to control the battlespace. Pull them to where you want them—which is not up against the planet.”

Trusting her pilots knew how to do such a thing, Miriam’s focus couldn’t help but drift to the larger strategy. The why.

Fighting in the shadow of a planet constrained everyone involved, on both sides. It limited movement and firing options. So why were Fullerton’s forces this intent on keeping the fighting there?

She peered at the display. They’d also stopped attempting to disable the defense arrays in the last few minutes. She didn’t need Thomas’ help to decipher this one. They expected to be able to use the arrays against her forces soon.

She switched comm channels.

Admiral Solovy (
EAS
Stalwart II
):  “Colonel Jenner, expect incoming.”

Colonel Jenner:  “They’re on approach now, Admiral.”

Admiral Solovy (
EAS
Stalwart II
):  “Then I will leave you to it.”

She returned to studying—

A brilliant explosion lit the viewport, far larger than any which had come before.

Admiral Solovy (
EAS
Stalwart II
):  “Squadron Leads, report.”

V5B Primary:  “One of the negative energy missiles missed its target and exploded in the upper mesosphere.”

What would that even do? She watched in horror as the atmospheric clouds surrounding the explosion roiled and churned. A second explosion plumed nearby, but the turmoil gradually subsided.

V5B Primary:  “The explosion and its aftereffects took out five of our fighters and a frigate. All indications are the other side suffered worse.”

She gritted her teeth.

Admiral Solovy (
EAS
Stalwart II
):  “To all ships, I say again: draw them away from the planet. Disengage and pull back. Make them come to you.”

Next she activated a private channel. “Admiral Rychen, any ideas are most welcome.”

“You already stole all my good ones. They want us dead, so they’ll chase us if they must—”

He cut off abruptly. And not merely his voice—the channel. She checked the
Churchill’s
position. “Redirect heading S 62° -51°z E.”

As they swung down toward the profile of Scythia, the dreadnought came into view. White-blue flames poured out of its impulse engines, and it seemed to be having difficulty maintaining course. The hull looked to be holding, as it had been one of the first ships to be retrofitted with adiamene after the end of the Metigen War.

“Lieutenant Renato, have all Rescue Units prepare for deployment. Major Halmi, I need information on what hit the
Churchill
.”

“It doesn’t appear anything hit it, Admiral. The
Bismarck
had an unobstructed view and tracked no projectiles. Here’s vid coming in now.”

A new screen to her left opened. The
Churchill
was engaged and firing two of its uniquely healthy supply of negative energy missiles at the
Provence
, when suddenly both impulse engines exploded. To her eye it looked as if they exploded from
within
.

Impulse engines didn’t malfunction—not military-grade ones—which left one conspicuous option as the likeliest scenario: sabotage. It was a concern they carried with them every day. Most of their people were loyal to her, Rychen or both, but there were a lot of personnel, and they couldn’t know every one personally.

Her gaze rose to the viewport once more as the
Churchill
crashed into one of their own ships, sending it tumbling off-course. Then its bow dipped toward the planet below.

The ship itself was still intact. Many, many people were still alive onboard—but not for much longer.

There was nothing she could do for them. They were all highly trained. They would know how to effect an emergency evacuation. If no one panicked, there were enough shuttles and pods for all of the twenty-one thousand people onboard.

But what there was not much of was time.

“Get every craft that can serve a rescue function into the
Churchill’s
vicinity now. Fullerton won’t allow his people to fire on escape shuttles, and if he allows them to fire on rescue personnel I will string him up and gut him myself.”

S
CYTHIA

When the Alliance infiltration team breached the building, Malcolm activated the official broadcast system.

“This is Agent Robertson of Scythia Administrative Security. You’re trespassing on government property during a state of emergency. State your purpose.”

He watched the cam feed as the point man swept the entry room. “This is a matter of Earth Alliance security. We have authorization to be here.”

“My department doesn’t have any record of such authorization.”

“It’s, um, classified. Strictly classified, and direct from the prime minister. We need to take the governor and his deputy into protective custody.”

“If a threat exists to the personal safety of the governor or his staff, as head of security I need to be made aware of it.”

The Marine shook his head. “You really don’t.” Then he waved his people forward, weapons drawn.

Malcolm cut the broadcast and switched to the mission comm channel. “We are Code Red. Go.” The deputy was on another floor under Grenier’s guard in order to minimize the chance of both of them being captured or harmed.

He pivoted to the governor. “Sir, I need you to get under your desk. I know it won’t be comfortable, but it’s the safest place.”

“Not particularly flattering either, but all right.” The man grimaced and disappeared beneath the desk.

A muffled explosion echoed outside.

Lt. Shanti:  Two targets down. First floor, northeast corridor.

He watched the various cam feeds on a whisper in the far corner of his vision. The intruders were hurrying now, on full alert and weapons free upon realizing they would meet resistance.

Another proximity micro-bomb tripped the instant they reached the second floor. Three bodies flew through the air; those escaping it met gunfire as they spun to examine their injured colleagues.

An additional team approached from the opposite side of the building. A flashbang tossed down the hall preceded mutual weapons fire.

Malcolm tensed as Shanti took a hit. He wanted to be out there fighting beside his team every step of the way. But the mission was to protect the governor, and someone had to be the last line of defense.

Lt. Shanti:  It’s not bad. As long as they don’t take the time to come back and finish the job, I’ll be okay.

Colonel Jenner:  Hold tight and quiet.

Pounding footsteps thudded over the rising disorder. He signaled Paredes across the doorway, clear in the night-vision mode of his ocular implant.

Colonel Jenner:  Rodriguez and Eaton, I need you to handle the three still on the third floor. We’ve got four combatants approaching Target Alpha.

Lt. Eaton:  Roger.

The cam they’d positioned above the door showed the intruders’ progress. Malcolm counted down with his fingers, then tossed a grenade into the hallway and flattened himself against the wall.

The room shook as the grenade detonated, sending dust rushing down the hallway. But so close to their target, the two Marines the grenade didn’t take out simply stepped over their comrades and prepared to enter.

“Governor Jayce, we know you’re in there. We’re not here to harm you. You’ve been summoned to Earth to answer questions regarding your recent statements. We—”

Malcolm exploded out the door and to the right, Paredes to the left. He barreled into the Marine and they both landed on the floor. He swatted the man’s Daemon away, sending it clattering down the hall.

The next instant the man was trying to gouge his eye out; he struggled to pull the man’s arm away, then the other as well when it came up brandishing a short blade.

He slowly twisted the hand around until the blade pointed in its wielder’s direction. “Don’t make me kill you, Marine. Surrender now and no more of your people will be harmed.”

“Fuck you, traitor.” The man wrested his other hand free and punched Malcolm in the throat.

His hold on the man’s blade hand loosened as he tried and failed to draw in air. He surged forward and forced the blade into the man’s neck, holding it there as the man flailed beneath him.

Finally he fell off the body and sank down the wall. In the back of his mind he processed the information coming in: Paredes had knocked his target out and now had him in restraints. Eaton and Rodriguez had killed one and disabled two. None had reached Grenier and the deputy governor.

He gasped in ragged breaths; each one felt like it was shredding his esophagus with tiny splintered shards.

“Sir, are you all right?”

He nodded at Paredes and pushed himself up off the floor. “Yes—” his voice croaked out “—I’m fine. Check on the governor.”

Colonel Jenner:  Status on the deputy governor?

Major Grenier:  Safe and sound, if a bit distressed.

Colonel Jenner:  Good work. Take all prisoners to the Conference Room on the 2
^nd
floor, then we need to sweep the building.

When he was finally able to draw in a clean breath, he straightened his shoulders and returned to the governor’s office, where he found Paredes checking the man over for injuries.

The governor stared up at him. “Is it over?”

“We need to secure the premises, but I believe we’ve neutralized the threat, yes, sir.” He gave the governor a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I imagine you’re anxious to inform the prime minister her attempt to oust you failed, but we should confirm the battle overhead has gone our way first.”

EAS
S
TALWART
II

Focusing on seeing the engagement through and defeating the adversary while the
Churchill
inexorably fell into the planet’s atmosphere and eventually vanished was one of the more difficult things Miriam had done in a month full of very difficult things.

But she did it, because even without the dreadnought’s firepower they were winning, and she didn’t dare let the momentum falter.

Relentless attacks by her fighters were in the process of destroying a rather gutsy frigate when she received a most astonishing message from Richard.

She dropped her chin to her chest to disguise her reaction, as for a minute she could not keep the emotions off her face. Shock, elation, a zealous touch of rage and a lingering dismay.

It was game-changing news, but it would have to keep until the battle was done.

When her ships disabled the second to last cruiser under Fullerton’s command, the remaining ships vanished rather than surrender.

She let them go.

Next she turned to Major Halmi. “I need comprehensive damage and casualty reports from all vessels. We’ll have pilots adrift out there. Make sure rescue operations have all the locator beacons—”

A gravelly voice crackled over her comm. “Any chance we could hitch a ride?”

She laughed in relief. “I believe we can spare the room.” Not for twenty-one thousand people, but they’d find the room for the survivors throughout the fleet.

“In that case, permission to come aboard, Admiral Solovy?”

“Permission granted, Admiral Rychen.”

She went down to meet him on the flight deck. He and the crew trailing him looked banged up, but nothing showers and a few medwraps wouldn’t fix.

She returned his salute with a sly smile—a rare enough event that he eyed her suspiciously.

“Admiral Solovy, are you wearing a shit-eating grin because we won here today, or is there something else I should know?”

“There’s something else you should know.”

“And that would be?”

“We’ve got her. Pamela Winslow’s days in power are going to be far shorter than she intended.”