Democracy 1: Democracy's Right (39 page)

He pulled her towards the airlock and through the hatch, both of them giggling like schoolchildren.  The guard on the far end of the hatch saluted Cordova, but kept his expression carefully blank as Cordova escorted her through the corridors and up into Officer Country, where he opened his cabin and invited her inside.  The cabin was warm, but his lips were warmer.  From the urgency of his hands as he started unfastening her jacket, it had been a long time for him, perhaps longer than it had been for her.  There had been no one she could risk taking to her bed at Tyler’s Star.

She gasped in delight as his lips roamed over her breasts, kissing, licking and sucking them, even giving them tiny bites.  Cordova was a far more experienced lover than the callow boys back on Earth and it showed.  It was suddenly urgent to get out of her trousers and panties, even though her hands were occupied trying to get his own clothes off. He took his hands off her for a second to pull off his jacket and she took the opportunity to start kissing her way down his body.  His chest was covered in scars, as if someone had whipped him badly long ago and the scars had never faded away.

Gently, he picked her up when they were both naked and carried her over to the bed, laying her down and kissing her before mounting her body.  Hannelore felt his hand slide between her legs, stimulating her just before he slid deep inside her, his lips coming up to meet hers.  She cried out, clutching him to her, and then all thought was forgotten, lost in the pleasure roaring through them both.

***

Hannelore
was, at first, unaware of where she was or what she had been doing.  The lights in the room were dim, reminding her of too many adventures as a young girl, when she’d been experimenting with her peers and ending up in too many strange beds.  The noise that had awoken her echoed again and she sat up, memory coming back in a sudden flash.  She was in Cordova’s cabin, on the
Random Numbers
, and she’d just had sex with him.  She giggled as Cordova turned over – his back, too, was covered with scars – and sat up, reaching for the communications terminal.  He hoped he had the sense to only use the vocal function, although, if the truth were told, she didn’t much care if his crew got an eyeful.  She felt sore, but good.

“Captain,” a voice said, “we are holding position as per your orders.  Do you wish to commence the drill now?”

Cordova looked vaguely guilty, even though the speaker couldn’t see him.  Hannelore had to cover her mouth to stop another fit of the giggles.  She had wondered how he would treat her in the morning afterwards - if it actually was morning – and now she would probably never find out.  Her mother had told her that that was the true clue to a man’s character, but for men like Cordova, duty always came first.  Or perhaps not; he had delayed the drill for his own gratification, after all.

“Not yet,” Cordova ordered.  “I want the gunnery crews to work on their deployments and the engineering crews to work out what we need from
Fabricator
.  We may as well try to upgrade the ship before Colin returns with the superdreadnaughts.”

The terminal clicked off and Cordova turned to look at her.  Hannelore didn’t manage to prevent the giggles this time and, a moment later, he joined her.  He had a deep throaty laugh.  She reached out and ran her hand down one of the scars, feeling it against her fingertips.  It didn’t feel pleasant.

“What happened?”  She asked.  Had someone tortured him in the past?  “Why…?”

“I’ll tell you one day,” Cordova said.  His hand came up and caught hers, bringing it to his lips.  “It’s a long and complicated story and I wish to do it full justice.”

His other hand reached out for one of her breasts and stroked it gently.  “And you’re unmarked,” he mused.  “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

Hannelore wasn't certain how to answer, but the howl of the alarm saved her.  Cordova let go of her at once and dived for the terminal.  “This is the Captain,” he said, sharply.  “Report!”

“Captain, we have a full squadron of battlecruisers dropping in on us,” the XO snapped.  Hannelore felt her blood run cold.  “They’re heading right towards Sanctuary!  They’ve found us, sir.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“Launch probes,”
Angelika ordered, as her stomach settled after the jump.  “Get me a tactical analysis of the system!”

The rebel base – assuming that they’d been given the right coordinates – was located in orbit around a red dwarf, a star that the Empire would consider worthless.  The system itself had been briefly surveyed by the Survey Service, catalogued and abandoned, having been rated as not suitable for exploitation.  The rebels, having fewer needs to support, had moved into the system and set up home amid its asteroid fields.  They would have to ship in fuel as the system had no gas giant, but that wouldn't be a problem.  There was no shortage of gas giants in the Beyond.

“I am picking up low-level drive emissions from the target cluster,” the tactical officer reported.  The battlecruisers were heading right into the asteroid field, something that would only be alarming to a person with no knowledge of space.  She could have flown the entire Imperial Navy through the asteroid field and never risked ramming an asteroid with one of her ships.  It required real incompetence or deliberate malice to crash a ship into an asteroid.  “I suspect the presence of at least nine starships, perhaps more.  They are trying to escape, Captain.”

“Anyone would think that they had something to hide,” Angelika said, wryly.  She had suspected that they’d been sold a bundle of junk by Imperial Intelligence – it wouldn't the first time that the Imperial Navy had been sent on a wild goose chase – but it was clear that there was
something
in the system.  Whatever it was, it was big and unregistered, which made it illegal by definition.  Even if they were attacking an asteroid base belonging to a group that had nothing to do with the rebellion, Public Information would turn it into a successful strike against a rebel base.  “Can you zero in on the target asteroid?”

The display tightened up as the probes zoomed closer, sending their readings back to their mothership.  The asteroid was odd, shaped rather like a club, yet it was clear that there was something powerful inside, for it was radiating all kinds of emissions.  An impact crater towards the rear of the asteroid was the most powerful source, suggesting that it held the spaceport and that the rebels were trying to flee before the might of the Imperial Navy.

Angelika tightened her lips as the battlecruisers spread out.  If they had wanted to destroy the asteroid, they could do it before anyone had a chance to escape.  A single salvo of missiles would crack the asteroid like an egg and throw its inhabitants into the unforgiving vacuum.  She would have preferred that solution – the longer she played with them, the more time the rebels would have to think of a way to defy her – but Admiral Percival’s orders had been clear.  The rebel leadership was to be dragged back to Camelot for a show trial and then execution.  Angelika would have argued, but Percival’s aide had pointed out another factor.  If they merely blew up the asteroid, they would never know who they’d actually killed – if indeed they’d killed anyone.

“Open a channel,” she ordered.  Even rebels, traitors and pirates would keep a listening watch on the universal emergency channel.  “Attention rebels; this is the Imperial Navy.  We are advancing on your asteroid and you do not have the firepower to repel us.  I advise you to disarm your weapons and await the arrival of Imperial troops, who will take you into custody.  Any starship attempting to leave the asteroid will be fired on without further warning.  You have three minutes to respond.”

She drew a finger across her throat, ordering the communications officer to cut the channel.  “Bring up full active sensors and paint that asteroid with everything we have,” she ordered, as she settled back into her chair.  “I want to have everything on the surface pinned down before we enter weapons range.”  She looked over at the tactical officer.  “If any starships disengage from the asteroid, you are authorised to fire at will.”

“Aye, Captain,” the tactical officer said.  His hands danced over his console, selecting shipkiller missiles and priming them for action.  Angelika suspected that at least some of the rebels would be considering trying to flicker out from where they were docked; perhaps even from inside the asteroid itself, but only a complete lunatic – or someone with nothing to lose – would risk such a stunt.  She smiled, humourlessly.  The rebels had nothing to lose.  “Nine more starships have started to power up their drives.”

“Continue broadcasting my demand for their surrender,” Angelika ordered, as new icons flickered into existence on the display.  The asteroid wasn't entirely toothless, unless they were trying to bluff her into retreating; they had rock-mounted weapons and even a handful of remotely-controlled automated weapons platforms.  Given that she’d worried about the possibility of a repeat encounter with the rebel superdreadnaughts, or perhaps even a stolen orbital fortress, it was something of a relief to see that the defences were so puny.  “Tighten up our sensor locks and prepare to take out all of their weapons.  I do not want them to have even the slightest chance of being able to harm our troops.”

“Aye, Captain,” the sensor officer said.  “All sensors are operating at maximum capacity.”

Angelika smiled and leaned forward, counting down the seconds.  If the enemy commanders refused to surrender in two minutes her ships would commence with a precision bombardment that would strip them of anything that could take the fight to her.  If they had stealthed weapons platforms waiting to engage her, they would be forced to reveal themselves before they could be picked off and destroyed.  She could afford to take her time.  The rebels, quite literally, had nowhere to go.

***

Hannelore
had never dressed so quickly in all of her life – she had left some of her underwear lying on the deck, so great was her hurry – yet Cordova still beat her to the bridge. 
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was on full alert, with every station manned and the crew ready to fight – or run.  Hannelore had been impressed with Cordova’s crew before – they acted more like professionals than anyone from a pirate band or even some of the other rebel ships – but now they were definitely showing their mettle.  With nine battlecruisers bearing down on their position, there was no sign of panic or even healthy fear.

“Report,” Cordova ordered, as he took his command chair.  He looked vaguely surprised to discover that Hannelore had followed him onto the bridge, yet he merely waved her to a spare chair and winked at her.  “What is our status?”

“Under cloak, full stealth protocols are in effect,” the XO said.  He sounded calm and focused.  “They have not pinged us as far as we can tell; our drives and shields are stepped down, minimizing our turbulence.  We should be effectively undetectable.”

“Let’s hope so,” Cordova growled.  On the main display, the battlecruisers swept past where the heavy cruiser was drifting and advanced towards the asteroid.  They seemed both implacable and very confident, as if they knew that they had all the time in the universe.  Hannelore had no idea what defences had been put into place to defend the asteroid against the Imperial Navy, yet she doubted that the rebels could have installed enough to deter the battlecruisers from advancing.  “We have to hold our position here and record everything.”

Hannelore looked up, surprised.  “You mean...we’re not going to do anything to help?”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Cordova said, sadly.  He looked angry and helpless, his fists clenched against an unreachable enemy.  It was the first time, Hannelore realised, that she had seen him without the mask he used to cover his thoughts and feelings.  “If we attempt to draw the battlecruisers away, they will either ignore us or dispatch one of their ships to chase us and leave the rest besieging Sanctuary.  All we can do is watch and wait.”

“But...”

She broke off.  She wanted to argue, to tell him that there had to be something they could do to save their cause.  She hadn't even realised how much it had become her cause until it was in mortal danger, yet...there was nothing they could do, apart from committing suicide on their behalf.  The Imperial Navy had come to call and brought along enough firepower to render any defence irrelevant.

“Don’t worry,” Cordova said, as if he had read her mind.  “This isn't the only base.  There are others and the Imperial Navy will never find them all.”

They weren't supposed to be able to find this one either
, Hannelore thought, sourly.

***

“They have not responded,” the communications officer said, as the timer ticked down to zero.  “They didn't even attempt to discuss terms.”

“We offered,” Angelika said.  The asteroid’s population was either part of the rebel leadership or supporting the rebel leadership.  The former would go in chains and be transported to Camelot; the latter would be sent to a penal world.  It made perfect sense for the rebels to refuse to surrender, which opened up its own risks.  They might believe that they could destroy their asteroid and take out hundreds of Imperial soldiers at the same time.  “Prepare to close to engagement range.”

She smiled as the enemy defences, the pitifully weak defences they’d installed, came into range.  “Target the enemy weapons platforms first,” she ordered.  “You may fire at will.”

A second later,
Violence
launched her first salvo against the rebel base.

***

The command centre was filled with panic, Neil was disgusted to discover.  The rebels hadn't had a formal command structure for the base – it hadn't been designed for permanent occupancy – and most of the workers worked for one group or another, rather than pledging themselves to a single force.  Sanctuary had no real government or defence force.  His Marines – and the
recruits they’d been running through combat training – were the only defence the asteroid had.

“They’ve opened fire,” an operator shouted.  Neil cursed his luck.  In the Imperial Navy, an operator who started to panic while on duty would be summarily removed from duty and transferred to a posting where they couldn't do so much harm.  Even the well-connected would tend to be removed from their positions.  “They’re firing on us!”

“Get a grip, man,” Neil snapped, using his best Drill Sergeant voice.  It had an immediate effect.  As he had thought – and prayed – the staff wanted someone to tell them what to do.  “They’re not firing on the asteroid; they’re firing on the defence platforms.  Unlock them and get them firing back, now!”

Most of the operators got to work, but one of them folded his arms and looked defiant.  “Who are you,” he demanded, “to give us orders?”

Neil could have explained, pointing out that he had more active combat experience than everyone in the room, but he didn't have the time.  He settled for punching the speaker in the head and knocking him out, leaving his body to collapse on the floor.  The remainder of the staff took one look and suddenly became a great deal more attentive, although Neil had to remind himself to watch his back.  He wouldn't put it past some of them to draw their weapons and shoot him in the back when they had the chance.

He keyed his personal communicator and linked into the private frequency used by high-ranking officers.  “Mrs Hyman, we have to defend the asteroid,” he said.  He had already considered all of the possible means of escape, only to conclude that there was no way out of the trap.  The Imperial Navy could destroy any ship before it had a chance to power up the flicker drive and escape.  Attacking into the teeth of such firepower would be suicide.  Perhaps he could slip a handful of people out in a stealthed ship with powered down drives and weapons systems, yet even that was doubtful with so many sensors operating at full power.  The Imperial Navy certainly wasn't bothering to hide.  “I need your permission to coordinate the defence.”

“Granted,” Hester said.  Whatever else she was – and Neil still harboured a trace of the old disdain for those the Imperial Navy called terrorists – she was decisive.  She would have made a good Marine if she had ever gone through the training centre.  “Do whatever you have to do to secure the asteroid and defeat the invaders.”

Neil relaxed slightly.  With Hester’s backing, the operators should do as they were told without any more backchat.  He leaned over the main display – it had been designed by the Geeks and operated on a different scale than the ones he was familiar with – and scowled to himself.  The Imperial Navy was easily swatting down the weapons platforms, while their probes swooped closer to the main asteroid, looking for future targets.  It wouldn’t take long for the starships to turn their attention to boarding the asteroid and by then he had to be ready.

“Put a general signal through the asteroid,” he ordered, trying to deduce what the enemy intended to do.  If he was facing fellow Marines, they would try to land on the rocky surface and burn through into the inhabitable sections of the asteroid, denying him any warning of where they intended to land.  But if the reports were true, if the remaining Marines in the Sector had been removed from duty, they were facing Blackshirts instead.  Where would Blackshirts choose to land?  “I want my Marines and trainees to assemble, in full combat armour, in Section 45-66-K.”