The Unincorporated Woman (39 page)

“I’ll need your command overrides, Admiral,” said Calhoun, the first hint of a smile he’d had in days. “But it should be possible, once the atomics are past the thruster plates.”

Zenobia looked at the position of Omad’s fleet. “If they were in a different position, I could use the
Atlanta
as a battering ram.” She exhaled deeply. “Commander Calhoun, take everyone but Lieutenant Kerwin and get those nukes ready to go. Lieutenant Kerwin, will you assist me in opening the maintenance tube? I’m hoping it’s not full of Alliance assault miners, but you can never tell with them.” As each group left, they all made sure to give a passing and thankful glance to the barely aware Lieutenant Chase floating in her delirium. She hadn’t said much, but if things worked out, she’d said just enough to maybe turn things around.

UHFS
Atlanta
Neuro

Al was getting ready to leave the dead ship. It bothered him to flee from what were his obvious inferiors, but they did have the advantage of force, and there was no arguing with that. There were never as many of them as there were of Al’s lovely creations, but they were so well armed and armored. When the Alliance was destroyed and all the Neuros of the solar system were under the control of Als, he would have to design something fitting for the Alliance test subjects that would be under his control. His thoughts were turning to a “Man in the Iron Mask” creation, or maybe a true realization of the iron maiden for these petty creatures that so loved their machines/programs.

But as he was about to leave, Al saw that the human female in charge of the ship had actually come up with a splendid idea. The ship
would
make a good battering ram. But
all
the ships left in the debris field would make
a lot
of battering rams. Seeing the floating Lieutenant Chase, Al had an idea of his own. It took only a moment to expropriate the unconscious woman’s access codes; actually, it took Al only a moment to download all the particulars of this human’s life. He found it to be dull—not particularly dull, all humans tended to be like this, useless creatures—but at least this one was proving to be vaguely useful. He transmitted orders to the Neuros on the other ships using the purloined access codes and then transferred himself into a piece of debris that would shield him until a retrieval drone could locate and return him to the brotherhood of himself. It would be so nice to be back in civilized company.

At the last moment, he turned and called to his servant. “Come on, Albert, you know I could never forget you.” Albert gave a muffled cry, but then shambled after his accursed and eternal master.

Command Sphere, AWS
Dolphin

Admiral Omad Hassan could smell victory. He knew how this battle was going to end. He would blast through the ruins of the UHF center and get to Gupta’s task force before Gupta could link up with Trang. Then it would simply be a matter of his and J.D.’s superior firing ship design that would give them the tactical edge they’d need for victory. They were going to win the battle. If they could end up capturing or killing the UHF’s big three, and Omad knew which option would be the case if he got to them first.

He was positive the UHF could always build more ships and send out more spacers and marines than the Alliance could ever dream of making. But he was equally positive that they would never come close to getting a command team as good as the three they’d been using—even if the war went on for another hundred years. And it would make no difference how many ships the UHF had if they didn’t have the admirals to lead them, except maybe for the body count. Omad was more than happy to add to that. The war “could” last another hundred years, as long as he was allowed to spend it killing the assholes of the Core Worlds who’d murdered his fiancée
and
his best friend.

“Admiral, the captain of the
Otter
is reporting trouble from the
Atlanta,
” reported his communications officer.

“Put her into my private channel,” he commanded. When the private link was established, he activated his helmet. “What’s going on, Suchitra?”

“I hate to bother you after reporting the
Atlanta
secured, but—”

“Not as secured as we thought,” he interrupted.

“We’ve gotten reports that main engineering has been taken by UHF personnel. We thought we’d taken care of everyone, sir, but without internal sensors, some must have slipped through.” Suchitra hesitated a moment.

“What is it, Suchitra?”

“We have unconfirmed reports that the UHF personnel are being led by Zenobia Jackson.”

Omad’s smile was instant and ferocious. “I knew the bitch wasn’t dead!” He activated the control that let him communicate with his first officer. “Yuri, Zenobia’s alive. Shift the task force’s course to bring us close to the
Atlanta,
and prepare to dispatch two more assault miner units. Their only objective is Admiral Jackson, alive or dead, but they’re to take no unnecessary chances.”

“Yes, Admiral. Should we send the Presidential unit?”

Omad paused as he considered the newly nicknamed unit that had been Sergeant Holke’s. “Why the hell not?” he said. “Get them in the launch bays. They’ll be fired out as we pass.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Remains of the UHF center

Admiral Zenobia Jackson was floating free in space. She’d given herself a rough trajectory toward the UHF fleet task forces, but she’d no idea how accurate she’d been, how long it would take her to get there, if Trang and Gupta’s task forces would be there or if they were even still in one piece. She’d decided that if she could not make it to a UHF ship, she wouldn’t activate her distress beacon. She’d rather float in space forever as a piece of detritus than be captured by the Alliance. But what added insult to the injury of her chances of escape was the fact that she had an annoying spin that she dared not correct, lest some Alliance sensor detect the change in the debris she was pretending to be and investigate or destroy her out of hand. Normally the rate of her personal spin would not have been noticeable to her, but this close to the battle site, she was forced to watch the graveyard of her task force and the remains of her fleet spin by every four seconds. Zenobia was about to black out her viewscreen when she noticed something that made her nascent headache vanish.

To her joy, she saw the Alliance task force shift course and head for the
Atlanta
. She didn’t know why it would do such a thing nor did she care. But what she saw, in four-second intervals, filled her with a mordant glee. The
Dolphin
approached the stricken
Atlanta,
and Zenobia was guessing they were going to board more assault miners. Then she saw the nuclear explosions from the rear of the
Atlanta
that crumpled her superstructure and sent pieces of her former flagship hurling toward the AWS
Dolphin
. Then she saw fourteen other explosions take place in her fleet and was confused yet overjoyed to see many pieces of her former fleet hurling toward Omad’s entire task force. She hadn’t given any order for her fleet to follow her example, but someone must have related them.

In an image that would bring a savage smile to her face whenever she remembered it, Zenobia saw pieces of her task force smash into ship after ship of Omad’s fleet, and in one four-second spin, saw the
Dolphin
trying to maneuver out of the way of the largest chunk of the
Atlanta.
In the next spin, she saw the most hated ship in the entire Alliance squashed like a tomato hit by a cinder block. The only thing Zenobia Jackson remembered after that was yelling her head off in joy at the death and destruction she’d visited upon an enemy she’d once respected as misinformed brethren.

AWS
Warprize II

“I need to know what is happening and now,” howled J. D. Black.

“We’re too far out and there’s too much interference to be sure,” voiced Sensor Officer Lee. “But it appears that Omad’s fleet was ambushed. I think many of his ships have been destroyed or heavily damaged.”

“Fatima, get me a secure communication link with them, now!”

“I’m trying, sir,” replied Fatima as she attempted every communication mode available to her. “I appear to be receiving multiple disabled/distressed beacons from Omad’s fleet, including one from the
Dolphin
itself.”

“Are you sure?” demanded J.D.

“No, Admiral, I’m not,” admitted Fatima. “It is just too chaotic.”

“Admiral,” interrupted Sensor Officer Lee. “It appears that Omad’s fleet has stopped. And no,” he said, anticipating her next question, “I’m not certain, but I would bet a paycheck on it.”

An intense, hawk-like expression passed over her face. “Would you bet a battle?”

Lee shook his head.

“Ensign Awala, get a message to whoever’s in charge of that fleet, and tell them to get their asses moving—now.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

AWS
Otter

In a matter of moments, Suchitra Gorakhpur had gone from being one captain among many to being second in command of the entire fleet. This was disconcerting enough, but she also found her first official action as second-ranking officer of the fleet to be calling the senior-ranking officer of the fleet an idiot.

“Wellington, why are you ordering the fleet to stop?” she demanded of Wellington Reginald Tower-Norwich.

“We’re conducting rescue operations,” he replied, almost as if he were explaining it to a five-year-old. “We have fifteen ships destroyed and nearly as many damaged to one degree or another. This fleet is hardly in a condition to battle the enemy. Especially while so many of our comrades are in peril.”

“Fuck ’em,” Suchitra barked.

“How dare you, Captain Gorakhpur. Maybe in the naval tradition of India, such actions were acceptable. But in the Royal Navy, we would never leave fellow sailors to the mercy of the seas.”

“Fuck the Royal Navy too, Wellington. Omad would leave half the fleet to die of starvation if it would win us the war.”

“Admiral Hassan is not in charge,” sputtered Wellington. “I am. If we find him and he’s in any condition to resume command, he can countermand my orders as is his right. But for now, you will follow my orders as is your duty. Do I make myself clear!”

Suchitra was aware that Wellington Reginald Tower-Norwich had actually been a captain since near the beginning of the war. This was most unusual in a fleet that needed all the experienced senior personnel it could get. She’d heard that he was considered a fine captain but lacked the imagination needed for independent command. And now she saw that that assessment had been tragically correct.

AWS
Warprize II

“Admiral, they’re definitely stopped,” said Sensor Officer Lee. “Why and for how long, I cannot say. We’re going to be in combat range of Trang’s ships in less than ten minutes.”

J.D. resisted the urge to get up from her command chair and pace. In her bones, she knew the tactical situation: If she engaged Trang, and Gupta wasn’t engaged by Omad, Gupta would come and shred her to pieces, back-firing ships or no. But if she didn’t engage Trang now, he would link up with Gupta and the effect would be the same. She had a vision of the battle as it should be.

Janet Delgado Black saw the end of the war. The great victory she’d been fighting years for. In her mind, she saw the wrecked UHF fleet and with it the hopes the enemy had for victory. She imagined the remains of Trang and Gupta and with them the last capable opposition she needed to fear. Her opinion of Zenobia Jackson hadn’t been particularly high. She now realized that that had been a mistake. J.D. saw all of this and with reluctance slowly closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her vision was gone like fog with the emergance of the sun.

“Communications,” she barked, “send out a new course to the fleet. We’re going to link up with Omad’s fleet in its current position. Transmit new orders to that group. It is to stay in its current location till both fleets are integrated.”

“Yes, Admiral,” came the crisp reply.

Command Sphere, UHFS
Ledger

Admiral Trang looked at the display, exhaled deeply and nodded. He was about to call Abhay when his secure line chirped.

“She blinked,” Gupta said, almost as surprised by what he was saying as by what had actually happened. “By all the dividends ever paid, she blinked.”

“Damsah be praised, Abhay, yes she did,” Trang crooned with a grin that was one part regret and two parts relief.

“Do we go after her?”

Trang had already considered this. “No, by the time we could catch up, she’d be with Omad’s fleet. I think we can defend against their back-firing ships, but we will need to be relatively static to achieve the porcupine effect we spoke of.” He transmitted his new fleet positions to Gupta.

Gupta took a few moments to absorb the import of the new orders he’d just received, then smiled respectfully. “You came up with this in less than an hour, while preparing for a major engagement you were not sure you could win.”

“Well, if we didn’t engage the enemy, I needed a backup plan. Why?” Trang asked suspiciously, “Don’t you think it’s any good?”

“Good? It’s fucking brilliant, Sam. As long as we stay relatively still, it will negate that damn ass-firing advantage they have. Do you think they’ll take us on?”

“No, whatever happened to Omad’s fleet, it gave us the time we needed. She may try a feint to Mars in a week or two, but if she thinks it’s going to budge me one inch from these lines, more’s the fool she is.”

“She’s not going to attack the orbital batteries of Mars, not after the Second Battle of the Martian Gates.”