Beyond Mars Crimson Fleet (37 page)

With their captain and leaders aboard, he
reasoned that all the cruiser could do was threaten them. However,
there was no guarantee of that. James felt uneasy, regardless that
it was likely the more prudent course of action.

“CAPTAIN!” the
Crazy Horse’s
sensor
crewman called out.

“THE
MIR
IS
WITHIN FIRING RANGE AND IS TARGETING US!”

“SHIELDS MAXIMUM, DOUBLE LAYER PORT SIDE!
ALL WEAPONS ON MY COMMAND!” James ordered, hoping that this was a
mere show of force by the cruiser. Yet in the back of his mind, he
knew that things had an insane way of escalating.

The
Mir
closed rapidly on the two ships
cinched together by the thin hose lines. Her scanners probed and
canvassed the situation with great intensity. Desh was ardently
searching for an excuse to open fire, but he was still wary of any
accusations he might face at a board of inquiry. Killing Martian
rebels was one thing, killing his own leaders was
another.

As the two warships
“squared-off” for a final showdown, they both neglected to notice
that other vessels were moving gradually, but deliberately on their
positions. Hidden in the anchorage of the fleet, another big
cruiser and several destroyers converged seemingly from
nowhere.

Unexpectedly, the unknown cruiser fired several small pulse
energy weapons at the
Mir
. The weapons raked the
Mir
from bow to stern, but
did very little damage.

“MIR
!” a voice came over the PA. “THIS
IS CAPTAIN WINSLOW OF THE
MARINER
! YOU ARE SURROUNDED—AND
TARGETED! STAND-DOWN OR BE DESTROYED!” his words were firm and
insistent.

Randall
did not believe his eyes as he viewed the main monitor. Khalid’
ship was completely surrounded by the
Mariner
and the
First Destroyer Squadron
.

“REPEAT,
MIR
!
THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING!” Winslow ordered. “STAND-DOWN OR BE
DESTROYED!”

Moments
later, the
Mir’s
weapons de-energized and the ship halted its advance. A cheer
rose from the bridge of the
Crazy
Horse
, while Randall sighed in relief. He
thought that the present danger had passed.

* * * * *

The marines waited a few
minutes for at least some of the smoke to dissipate before clearing
the bridge of the remaining Earth loyalists. Still, the room was
semi-clogged with smoke and presented numerous places for holdouts
to hide trying to evade detection. This became an all too real and
lethal peril for the marines, which was evident by the several
small firefights that quickly erupted. The combat was very intense
with the marines suffering occasional casualties. In the end,
however, the resisting guards were all killed or captured. Yet,
there was one who eluded the leathernecks’ search and
apprehension.

Although he had no formal
military training, Damon skillful dodged his uniformed pursuers. He
crept behind instrument consoles, slithered over bodies, and
scrunched in places where a human being should not have been able
to fit. Marine patrols passed close by him, but not one caught a
glimpse of the dangerous fugitive.

Damon was
scared, but his mind was set to a single task: the destroying of
the Martian rebellion in one bold stroke. He realized what the cost
would be, but he was already a dead man. Still, there was no other
choice: he would either be executed by the Martians as a traitor or
by
The Order
for
the failure of the mutiny. Through his own incompetence, his death
was a surety.

Anger and bitterness fueled
the politician’s drive, while revenge became the life-blood of
Feoras Damon. It was all that he had left.

In the distance, he heard
the voice of the man who was responsible for his dilemma. Rage set
upon Damon’s heart as a great fire, and it burned hotter as the
voice became a haughty insult to him. The politician crept slowly
closer with his ion pistol in hand.

Paladin stood rubbing his
freed wrists as he chatted openly with Wakinyan and Major Franks. A
toothy smile was caste on the man’s face, while exhilaration filled
his soul. “You two have got to be the craziest officers I have in
this entire fleet!” Paladin pronounced with a chuckle after hearing
of their daring exploits. “I’m not sure if I should decorate or
court-martialed the both you!”

“We’re just adapting and
overcoming, Sir,” Major Franks offered. “Besides, it was all his
idea,” the marine said nodding to Wakinyan.

“Well, Deputy Commander?”
Paladin asked. “What’s your excuse?”

But Wakinyan, although
happy, was serious. “No excuses, Sir! It’s just good to have you
back!” Richard’s voice softened to the confession with the
lovingness of a son.

The genuineness of warmth
coming from his favorite junior officer infused a glad heart within
Paladin. The old Martian officer with a proud grin reached over and
grabbed Richard by the shoulders in a welcoming grip.

However, a hazy shadow
appearing ten feet beyond Wakinyan’s back and caught Paladin’s eye.
The apparition became a man standing straight and unmoving in the
mist of billowing smoke that was gradually clearing away. He was as
a statue, cold and unblinking. Hate transfixed the very air around
him, while his hand crushed an ion handgun. There was no question;
he was there to kill. And from his observed position, his target
was Wakinyan.

Paladin’s face transformed
into utter fear. He frantically yanked Wakinyan off his feet and
around with all the strength he had, throwing the junior officer to
the floor. As he did, an electron bolt caught Alexander Paladin,
Martian fleet Commander, directly in the back. A low and hollow
gasp for air escaped from the man’s mouth as it penetrated to a
lung. He then fell mortally wounded to the floor next to
Wakinyan.

For Major Franks, however,
training and instincts took over. The marine spun and dropped on
his left knee, blasting the armed figure with automatic fire from
his plasma rifle. Other nearby marines at the same time joined in,
setting up a deadly crossfire. The heated tracers saturated area as
the smell of burning carbon fumed every nostril.

Damon shuddered and jerked
from the murderous barrage, finally toppling over thoroughly dead.
His chard and shredded body made a soft thump as it impacted on the
metal deck, while his released pistol clattered away into the
mist.

“CEASE FIRING!” bellowed
Major Franks, sure that Damon was longer counted among the living.
The marine then turned to Wakinyan, who sat on the floor tightly
holding Paladin in his arms.

“MEDIC!” Wakinyan tearfully
yelled. “MEDIC!” he again screamed, but more urgently.

Weakly Paladin voiced
“Forget it,” knowing that he was dying.

The sharp pains in his
chest told the officer that his passing was mere minutes away. Only
one thing now absorbed his thoughts: a single last duty to be
performed.

With a trembling hand,
Paladin reached up and removed the two-star rank from his own
collar. Gasping for each breath of life, Paladin held out the stars
to Wakinyan.

Wakinyan began crying with
a steady stream of tears running down his face. “No!” he choked
back, vigorously shaking his head in refusal in accepting Paladin’s
inevitable death. “NO!” he reiterated louder, denying the rank he
was being offered.

With a gentle nod and a
loving fatherly smile that was spotted with his own blood, Paladin
convinced Richard to take the twin stars of metal. As Wakinyan
picked up the emblems of absolute Martian military authority in his
own hand, he swallowed hard. He didn’t want any of this, but the
finality of Paladin’s life made it a certainty.

“God bless you, Fleet
Commander Wakinyan!” Paladin managed to gurgle out with his last
breath. The old officer then died quietly, peacefully, as if going
to sleep.

For a moment, Richard was
frantic as he tried shaking Paladin to wake him from his eternal
rest. But the old man was gone. Suddenly Wakinyan exploded in
uncontrollable and grief-stricken wails. They pierced every ear
with their tones of great lament, filling all with their heavy
sadness and the deep sorrow they contained. Through it all, Richard
still held Paladin tightly in his arms, unwilling to let go of
him.

Nearby marines dropped
their heads and became silent. All removed their helmets out of
respect, while Major Franks covered his own face with an opened
hand. The hardened soldier did not want anyone to see him cry as
well.

* * * * *

Chapter 21:
Decisions

“To all ships and
crews—and to all the people of Valamars; this is Commander Richard
Wakinyan speaking. As you all are probably already aware
of—Commander Paladin is dead. He was murdered earlier today by
Earth security forces—and traitors among us. Under orders from the
Earth, their purpose was to disrupt the integrity of this fleet,
while taking from us—our common dream of freedom. They, however,
did not succeed!”

“Most of them have either
been killed or captured. The few remaining are being vigorously
sought and should be in custody within the hour. However, I must
tell you that they were in contact with a fleet from Earth—and that
fleet now approaches.”

“Life is filled with some
bitter decisions—and I have just made a most difficult one. These
traitors, before their capture, had sabotaged many of our civilian
transport ships, which now cannot journey from this system under
their own power. One answer would be to simply flee after
transferring all their passengers and crews to our
warships.”

“Although we could easily
do this and escape—all our supplies and other vital resources are
still here. And without them to sustain us, it would make it very
easy for the Earthers to hunt us down. It would also add to our
vulnerability by denying our warships the ability to act in
self-defensive for fear of causing civilian casualties aboard. From
this, I feel we have no other option—but to engage the enemy fleet
in combat, bringing the full might of our military forces against
them while carefully choosing our battleground.”

“I want to take this time to assure all of you that
the Martian fleet is a most formidable fighting force, and that we
stand every chance of winning. However, necessary precautions shall
be taken to ensure the safety and lives of all non-combatants. I
ask all of you to follow any directives or orders quickly and
without question. This will help the military to maintain control
and to safeguard all of our people.”

“As you listen to this, know that the hour of the
impending battle draws near—within the next 48 hours. And although
this might seem like our darkest hour—it is not! We will be ready
to meet their aggression—and make them thoroughly regret it! And I
firmly believe that with the help of Almighty God, and the bravery
and skill of our military forces—we will prevail in the end!
Wakinyan, out.”

* * * * *

As
Wakinyan sat in Paladin’s office aboard the
Mariner
, he pondered the situation
carefully, along with his previous words to the fleet. He realized
that his surviving the skirmish at Magnus Sol was due mostly in
part to a handful of deserters and some very good luck, of which
the latter had just about run out.

Wakinyan told the new
citizens of Valamars as much of the truth as he dared. He knew
quite well that mass hysteria would result should any knowledge of
the real intentions of the Crimson Fleet be discovered. And from
this panic, not only was any chance of a military victory
impossible to achieve, but all of their very lives were forfeited
to an inevitable demise.

The Earth fleet was on its
way to Valamars to kill every man, woman, and child: to exterminate
the Martian race once and forever, and only he and his hopelessly
outnumbered and obsolete battle fleet stood in their way. It was a
responsibility of enormous proportions and the gravest of all
dilemmas. From this, Wakinyan’s once carefree attitude melted away,
replace by the solemnity of leadership and the lading of
reality.

The unexpected burden fell
upon Richard’s shoulders like a great boulder plummeting off a
mountain. Striking him with a gigantic force, it thrust down an
unbearable weight upon him in an attempt to crush his spirit with
its heaviness, and break his will.

However, Richard’s inner
strength was well forged into the steel of a great hammer that
could smash any boulder of tribulation to pieces. And his resolve
to fight screamed for one thing—vengeance!

Wakinyan hatefully spurned
any thought of surrender to the nightmares of his worse doubts. In
the past, fear had never controlled him, nor was he going to allow
it to do so now. Fired by his own anger and imagination, he was not
about to yield the system to the Earthers. Instead, the destruction
and massacre they eagerly sought was to be brought back upon
them.