Year 321 AC

  “You did the right thing, Vig.” It was the hardest statement Tyler Barron had ever made.

  He’d felt a spark of hope amid the dark despair when he’d heard the name ‘Pegasus’ on the comm unit. For a fleeting few moments, he’d imagined Andi had returned, that she’d aborted her dangerous mission, or somehow managed to escape from Dannith.

  But that bit of light illuminating the darkness had proven to be fleeting, fate’s cruel trick. Pegasus had indeed returned, but Andromeda Lafarge was not on her ship.

  She’d sent her people back with the intel she’d gathered, but all Barron could think as he stared at Vig Merrick was, you left her there.

  And then, a voice from the depths of his mind, even more damning, damning him for his unfairness to Merrick. He may have left her, but you let her go.

  He’d seen the devastation in Vig’s eyes, the despair the man felt at having left without Andi. Barron knew better than anyone what she was like, how impossible it was to stop her from doing what she was determined to do. It still took all he had not to blame the clearly shattered Merrick, but he took control and kept it all inside.

  “There was no way to get her back onboard, Admiral. If we tried, we just would have been caught, and she would have too. She knows Dannith better than anyone I’ve ever seen. She’ll manage to stay hidden.”

  Barron wished Vig sounded more certain, or even that he’d done a better job of keeping the doubt from his voice. In the absence of an appealing truth, some part of him, at least, craved a reassuring lie. But he could hear how scared Vig was, and Barron’s insides froze at the thought of Andi, alone, behind enemy lines, trying to find someplace e to hide, to avoid the Kriegeri.

  “Admiral…” Atara walked up behind him, her voice soft, tentative, as though she’d been hesitant to interrupt.

  “What is it, Atara?” Barron felt some relief at his comrade’s arrival. He’d been feeling terribly alone, and his longtime friend’s presence eased that, just a bit.

  “I…” She paused, clearly hesitant to continue. “I finished reviewing the material Andi sent. There is nothing decisive, not in terms of technical weaknesses of the Colossus, but she was quite clear that the Hegemony forces were very thinly spread out, that they were suffering severe manpower shortages, even to the point of reducing patrols on Dannith and conscripting locals to work in their facilities.”

  “Well, it’s reassuring to know we’re not the only ones losing people faster than we can replace them.” Barron felt a shadow of disappointment. The data was useful, he supposed, but not something he’d have sent Andi into such danger to obtain. If that was all she’d managed to find, he had one more cause to despise himself for not stopping her.

  “Admiral…I believe the information may be more useful than we might think at first. She included some specifics, up to and including the fact that the Hegemony officers were concerned about the crew levels on their ships…and even on Colossus. Andi was able to gather a number of references to such discussions from Dannite residents working in Hegemony installations.”

  Barron tried, unsuccessfully, to hold back a sigh. “That might have some bearing in a protracted fight, Atara, but we’re facing Colossus and the enemy fleet, and our fighters, the one thing that kept us in the fight this long, are more than half gone. There isn’t going to be a protracted battle. When we finally face them…” And, despite his grim outlook, that was still a firm ‘when’ to Barron, and not an ‘if.’ “…it’s going to be over very quickly. I don’t see any way we can defeat them now, even if their efficiency is reduced by skeleton crews.”

  “I’m not suggesting a pitched battle, Tyler. What if we boarded Colossus? What if we got Marines onboard and they managed to get some explosives onboard?”

  Barron stared back at her like she was crazy. “How is that even possible? We already tried to sneak up on the damned thing, and you saw what happened. We’d never get a single transport close enough to force dock.” His tone was far harsher than any he normally used with Atara, but images of Sara Eaton had forced their way into his head, stoking his anger. The idea of a repeat of the disastrous effort, seemed almost insane to him.

  “We don’t know what gave Eaton’s ships away, Admiral.” It was a different voice, one just as familiar. Barron had been so distracted, he hadn’t noticed Anya Fritz slipping into the room after Atara. “The stealth units appeared to be working, at least until they got close. There was no sign of a reaction, not until the end. It could have been radiation from the nuclear warheads, or the concentration of heavy elements in those massive nukes. Or the heavy acceleration, the massive thrust output. Any of those things could be responsible, or a combination of them. That doesn’t mean we couldn’t get a group of ships close without detection. We’d have to leave out the nukes, and the ships would have to use minimal thrust as they moved forward. That means a slow approach. And, I think I can make a few adjustments, alter the frequencies of the cloaking fields, maybe enough to counter some of the enemy’s advances in detection. We have some fresh data from the recent…effort. I think I can make use of some of it.”

  “You mean you want to try again? After everything that happened?” Barron didn’t blame Fritz for the disaster, or for Eaton’s death. She’d expressed her concerns, and her significant reservations, before he’d given the go ahead. But he was stunned to see her seeming to lobby for a repeat effort.

  “We can’t risk coming in fast like we did last time, nor can we carry a boatload of nukes. So, assuming we do this, the Marines are not only going to have to hope like hell the enemy doesn’t pick up their ships in spite of everything we do to prevent it, they’re going to have to go in without nuclear weapons. And they’re not going to destroy that thing with conventional explosives, even from the inside, not unless they get them positioned in just the right place.”

  Barron knew immediately what Fritz was talking about. The reactors, the anti-matter storage…someplace where even a small bomb could wreak havoc, and even destroy something as large as Colossus.

  “So, you’re suggesting we send—what, it has to be thousands of Marines, just to explore that thing, not to mention fighting whatever internal security they do have on there, reduced manpower or no. That we repeat the exact strategy that just lost us Admiral Eaton and twelve hundred of her spacers? And, the grand plan is, no nukes and no rapid acceleration? So, it ends up taking even longer to close, and when they get there—if they get there—they hunt around for something vulnerable enough that they can destroy Colossus with a few satchel bombs?”

  “Tyler, Anya is right.” There was a surprising degree of confidence in Atara’s voice. “It had to be the acceleration the enemy picked up, or the warheads. Or both. If they’d completely broken through the stealth technology, they’d have spotted the ships much farther out. Sara and her people wouldn’t have gotten inside a quarter million kilometers, and you know it. The enemy discovered the ships, and the mission failed, but it was a close-run thing. A damned close-run thing. If we do what Anya is saying, cut down on the likeliest factors allowing the enemy scanners to penetrate the fields, we just might be able to get a Marine strike force inside.”

  “Close-run?” Barron was horrified at the terminology, even though he knew she was factually accurate. Eaton’s people had been less than a minute from completing their mission. They were all dead, every spacer who’d left on the doomed strike force, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t almost succeeded. They had.

  But Barron was still angry.

  “So now you’re saying I should send more people in, do the same thing again? Lose more spacers, more friends?”

  “What else are we going to do?” Atara’s voice was soft, calm.

  Barron’s initial reaction had been an angry one, but by the time he spoke, the gentleness of her tone, and the undeniable sense of her statement, blunted his rage. “Do you believe an operation like that would really have a chance?” He was looking at Atara when he spoke, but then he turned. The question had really been directed at Fritz.

  “I don’t know, Admiral. I don’t think anyone does. But Admiral Travis is right. We don’t have anything else, and if we can get a Marine force aboard, and if Colossus’s crew is significantly understrength, if there are fewer combat soldiers stationed onboard…maybe, just maybe, we can destroy that thing from inside. Because I’ve reviewed every scan and every spec, sir, and I can tell you for a fact, we’re not going to do it from outside. The nukes were our only chance. Every ship in the fleet will probably get blasted to rubble before they get a shot off, and that doesn’t even take their battle line into consideration. Either we try again with a stealth attack, this way…or we need to take a harder look at those surrender terms.”

  Fritz’s words hit him like a club, especially the part about surrendering. It was plain logic, of course, but the starkness of it took him unawares. There were three choices looming in front of him. Yield, accept the surrender, or at least try to negotiate the best final terms possible. Lead his forces in a suicidal attack that would achieve nothing but mass slaughter, and have no chance at all of success.

  Or do what he had just done. Send a stealth force against the monstrous warship, and hope against hope, this time they made it in without getting blasted to atoms.

  They were bad choices, all of them, horrible…but as much as he wracked his brain, he couldn’t come up with anything else.

  “It’s the only way, Tyler. The only chance we’ve got, however bad you think it is. And, you know we’ll get enough volunteers from the Marines and the piloting crews…so, you won’t be ordering anyone in. You’ll be allowing them to try.”

  “You think that makes it easier, Atara? Would it for you?”

  “No,” she admitted, “probably not. But I’m with you in this. I’m urging you to do it. I’ll share in the guilt for what happens. And you know Clint Winters will agree. There’s just no other choice.”

  Barron was silent for a few seconds, and before he could respond, Fritz spoke up again. “I can modify some light escorts, Admiral. Cut the power output to bare minimums. The ships will have to go in at low velocities, without much thrust, but Colossus’s strengths don’t seem to include maneuverability. If we bring the battle line close enough, keep the escorts hidden in the energy signatures of the big ships…they just might be able to do course mods that far out, and glide the rest of the way. They’ll have to do some minor adjustments, of course, but they might even get by with just the positioning jets, especially if I can crank up their power a bit. Compressed gas expulsion is going to be a lot harder to pick up than conventional engine output, and if Colossus is mostly stationary, it could work. Especially if the enemy is slow to move to engage us, as they were at Tellurus. They’re hoping we’ll take the deal they offered. We might be able to gain an advantage from that…maybe even encourage it.”

  Fritz’s words made sense, though they were still having problems pushing their way through Barron’s thick skepticism. But he was at his heart a realist, and as much as that made him acutely aware of the risks of the proposed operation, it also reminded him of one brutally intractable fact.

  They had no other options. None he could accept.

  “Alright, let’s get ready, at least…in case we decide to go this way.” Barron turned toward Fritz. “Pick out the best ships, Fritzie. Nobody knows the stealth units better than you do. I want…how many stealth units do we have left? I mean only ones you’re sure are in top condition.”

  “Twelve, Admiral.”

  “I want you to pick out the twelve ships you think will work the best with the units, ones that are maneuverable enough to bring in with just compressed air jets for positional realignments. We’ll cram them full of Marines armed with conventional explosives…and send them in with instructions to find the reactors or antimatter storage and plant the bombs, and then get out.” He felt a twinge of guilt at those last words. He didn’t think the attacking Marines were going to have much chance of getting aboard Colossus at all. They had even worse prospects of getting off the monster ship, whether their mission was successful or not.

  Fritz nodded. “I’ll see it done right away, Admiral. If you’ll excuse me, I’d better get started. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  Barron nodded, and he watched for a few seconds as Fritz walked out of the room. Then he turned toward Atara. “You know there’s only one person who can lead this boarding force, don’t you?” He felt his insides tightened even as the words escaped his lips. Bryan Rogan was still in an infirmary bed, recovering from the ordeal and the wounds he’d suffered on Megara. If anything less than the survival of the Confederation was at stake, Barron wouldn’t even consider sending Rogan.

  But the future of the Confederation was at stake, along with that of the rest of the Rim.

  “You won’t have to order him, Tyler.” Atara seemed to understand how painful the whole idea was to Barron. “He’ll insist on going as soon as he knows what we’re planning.”

  “You’re right, of course. He’d go for a dozen reasons, and my only solace is ‘for me’ is only one of them. He’d never let his Marines try something like this without him.” He paused. “Have we really become this desperate?” Atara didn’t respond, but she didn’t have to. Barron knew the answer before he’d asked the question.

  “Atara…” Barron paused, almost as though he was hoping the reality would change if he stayed silent for a few more seconds. “Send word to Bryan. Get him here as quickly as possible…and do what you can to begin assembling a Marine strike force. We need all veterans for this one, Atara, the best we’ve got. And…all volunteers, okay? That goes for the spacers crewing the ships, too. Nobody gets ordered in on this one.”

  “Yes, sir.” Travis nodded her head slowly, and then she hesitated, standing still for a moment, her eyes locked on Barron’s. They had served together for a very long time, and he understood just what her gaze was saying to him, as he knew she understood his. Then, she turned abruptly and left, leaving Barron alone with Vig Merrick, who’d remained silent during the entire discussion.

  “I have something to ask of you, too, Vig. You and the rest of Pegasus’s crew.”

  “What can we do, Admiral?”

  “I’m going to send an elite Marine tactical team to Pegasus. I know this is dangerous, foolhardy even, but I don’t know who else I could send.” A nervous pause. “I want you to go back to Dannith. You know that planet as well as Andi, or nearly so. Take whatever equipment you need, whatever supplies…but try to find her, please. Try to get her back.”

  Vig stared back with a strange look on his face. Barron wasn’t sure at first, but then he decided. It was relief. Not at all what he’d expected.

  “Yes, Admiral…of course we’ll go back. Hell, I was afraid you were going to ask something else, something that would have delayed our departure. I had to do what she asked, get the info she found back here, but now that we’ve done that, there’s no way I’m leaving her there.”

  Barron felt relieved, and gratified at the loyalty of Andi’s crew. “Whatever you need, Vig…if we’ve got it, it’s yours. I’d send someone else, but I don’t think anybody has the chance you do of pulling it off, of finding her and getting her out of there. And sending any more ships with you only increases the chance you’ll be caught.”

  “Hell, Admiral, you could send anybody you want, but I’d damned sure be there no matter what, and probably ahead of all of them. Andi Lafarge gave me a life, and then she saved it, more than once. I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave her trapped down there…whatever tit takes. Whatever the risk.”

  “Thank you, Vig. Anything I can give you is yours, but go and find her. Bring her back. Please.”

  “I’ll do everything possible, Admiral, and I’ll promise you one thing. If I don’t come back with her…I won’t come back at all.

  Chapter Thirty

  Spacer’s District

  Port Royal City

  Dannith, Ventica III

  Year 321 AC

  Andi lay back against the cold concrete wall, closing her eyes for a moment. She was tired, but even more than that, she was hungry. She’d come a long way since her days on the streets of the Gut, but fate had somehow managed to bring her around full circle, and the meager meal laid out in front of her had come mostly from the garbage, a place from which she hadn’t scavenged for food since she’d grown large enough to fend for herself in other, more aggressive, ways.

  Her mother had died when she was ten, leaving her alone in the worst slum in the Confederation, but she’d been tough and hard, even then. She’d taken what she could find, subsisted on maggot-infested refuse…until she’d truly learned to survive. At first that had been mostly theft, thievery to obtain what she needed. Later, she’d added combat to the list, and the ability to defend herself, to keep what was hers once she’d attained it. To kill when she had to.

  She poked at the scraps laid out on a small cloth, picking out the bits that looked least spoiled. She had plenty of coin left, more than enough to live like a queen for quite some time, which is just what she would have done, save for the inconvenient fact that she was hiding on a world controlled by the enemy. The hotels had all been converted to barracks for the Kriegeri, and food seemed to be distributed by a rationing system, making her money virtually useless. It was still good in the black market, of course, what was left of the illicit trade in the shadows of Port Royal City, but anyone she might have bargained with would have been even less trustworthy than Yantis. She’d had no choice except to trust—after a fashion—the Spacer’s District hoodlum on her intel gathering efforts, but she wasn’t going to push her luck, either with him again, or with any of the others who remained. It was bad enough most of them would find out that Yantis had come into a significant amount of coin. They were rivals, and while she liked to think they would come together when faced with an outside enemy, she knew most of them would be happy to run to the Kriegeri to rat out their colleague, gaining favor with the occupiers while settling old scores.