Falcone Strike (36 page)

“You know,” Davidson said. “This could be our last night together.” Kat laughed.
Lightning
had nipped in and out of Porcupine, as planned, taking the opportunity to broadcast propaganda into the datanet before allowing a squadron of light cruisers to drive them away. Hopefully, the enemy would realize she hadn’t fired a shot and draw the conclusion that she had few—if any—missiles left. But as long as they picked up the message she’d sent, using Parker’s codes, she didn’t care. It would convince the enemy to prepare another ambush for her.

“That was
far
too hackneyed a line,” she said. They’d spent five days laboring to put everything in place for the attack on Aswan. Tomorrow, they’d know if the plan would work or if the enemy would refuse to take the bait. “You could just try to pull me into bed.”

Davidson shrugged. “I thought bad romantic lines were funny,” he said. He looked past her, at the display. “You might have made a good Marine.”

“I doubt it,” Kat said. “I never liked crawling through mud.” She smiled, remembering her childhood. It might have been lonely, but it hadn’t been
bad
. There had been the estate, a private garden easily large enough for a hundred children, and countless trees to climb. But she’d rarely seen her parents . . .

And if we don’t manage to survive the action tomorrow, she thought as she turned and took him in her arms, I won’t see them ever again.

“That’s them on their way,” Grace said. “Nine superdreadnoughts, twenty smaller ships . . . vector suggests a direct-line course to Salvation, although they might change course.”

“I see them,” Lars said. On the display, one by one, the enemy ships

jumped into the vortex and vanished. “And the base itself?
”

“
Still got another squadron of superdreadnoughts and a dozen smaller ships,” Grace said. “They’re even deploying a handful of armed shuttles.” Lars stroked his chin thoughtfully. The shuttles weren’t gunboats, but if gunboats weren’t available, shuttles would have to suffice. Someone was either clever or desperate . . . mounting weapons and sensor packs on shuttles wouldn’t make them harder to hit, yet it
would
give the defenders some additional warning if there were more cloaked ships skulking around.

“Pull us back,” he ordered. “Prepare to slip back to the squadron.
”

“
Aye, sir,” Grace said.

“The enemy ships have departed,” Linda said. “
Mermaid
reports that an entire fleet of ships has left the system.” “Show me,” Kat ordered. It felt odd to be going into battle without her XO on the bridge, but there was no choice. “Put them on the main display.”

She watched, grimly, as the enemy ships slipped into hyperspace. They
might
be trying something clever, but she doubted it. Salvation wasn’t anything like as important as Aswan, not to them. They’d be insane to risk leaving the planet’s defenses weakened if they believed the system was going to come under attack.

“Very well,” she said. It was important that the enemy didn’t have any time to think. “Order
Mermaid
to return to the system, then raise Commander Horsham. He is to send the message in one hour; I say again, he is to send the message in one hour.”

“Aye, Captain,” Linda said. Kat sucked in her breath. They’d done everything they could to make the message look authentic, to make it clear that the local commander had no choice but to comply as quickly as possible, yet she knew that far too much could go wrong. If the enemy questioned orders, if the enemy sent back a demand for clarification, the entire plan would fall apart. She wanted to send the message immediately, but the enemy would have a chance to recall the second squadron of superdreadnoughts. All she could do was wait for them to put enough distance between themselves and Aswan before she tried to trick the defenders into sending away their remaining ships.

At least we know the StarCom works
, she thought. She’d linked to Admiral Christian and sent a complete report, including everything they’d learned and the coordinates for the enemy superdreadnoughts. Maybe, just maybe, he’d have a chance to set a trap.
Whatever happens, the intelligence is already on its way home
.

“
Mermaid
has jumped out,” Roach said quietly. “They’re on their way.” Kat felt sweat trickling down her back as she waited for the hour to tick away. She hadn’t been so nervous at Cadiz, had she? Not when the enemy had attacked the crippled system and not when the Navy had mounted a counterattack . . . ? But she hadn’t had time to be nervous during the first battle and she hadn’t planned the second battle herself. This time, the glory of victory—or the shame of defeat—would fall squarely on her head. The XO had been right. Too many things could go wrong. “Commander Horsham is sending the message now,” Linda reported.
Here we go
, Kat thought.

“Hold the fleet at ready stations,” she ordered. They would need to give the second squadron a chance to move away from the system too. “We jump in thirty minutes.”

Or fall back
, her thoughts added, silently.

Commodore Malian knew he wasn’t considered a zealot, not like the senior officers who commanded the attack fleets that were clawing their way into the Commonwealth. Indeed, he’d been surprised to receive promotion at all, even if it had been to a naval base that had long since lost most of its importance. No one had seriously considered the prospect of the enemy raiding behind their lines, even though in hindsight it was blindingly obvious. He had expected to spend most of his time doing as little as possible while enjoying the fruits of his links to the smugglers. Being on the front lines hadn’t been part of his plans.

“Commodore,” his aide said. “We picked up an urgent message from the front.”

Malian took the datapad and read the message, feeling his eyebrows lift in surprise. It was direct, straight to the point; he was to send his superdreadnoughts and any ships that could be spared to an RV point within occupied space, where they would receive further orders. He’d had a feeling he would have received such orders, sooner or later, but getting them now was unfortunate. Admiral Junayd had taken the other superdreadnought squadron with him and regulations strictly forbade cutting the defenses of a naval base any further.

But it’s an order from the front
, he agonized bitterly. It had been made clear, back before the war, that the demands of the front took priority. He’d be lucky if he was
only
executed if he refused to send his superdreadnoughts upon demand, despite the risk. And yet, if he
did
send the ships, he’d be in trouble for breaking regulations. Damned if he did, he thought, and damned if he didn’t.
What do I do
? He stared down at his hands helplessly. Admiral Junayd would be furious to discover that he’d lost his second superdreadnought squadron, and he might take it out on Malian, but orders were orders. He considered, briefly, asking for clarification, but Admiral Junayd had ordered him to keep the StarCom under tight control.
Nothing
was allowed out without the admiral’s permission. The only way he could please both of his superiors was to let the superdreadnought squadron go, then send a courier boat after Admiral Junayd. He could bring his ships back to fill the holes.

“Contact Commodore Perkin,” he ordered slowly. A tap on the datapad uploaded the navigational data into the superdreadnought’s datanet. “His ships are to depart immediately for the preselected RV point.”

“Aye, sir,” his aide said.

“And dispatch a pair of courier boats,” Malian added. “One to fly directly to Salvation; one to follow the admiral’s track in hyperspace. They are to inform him of this development.”

And he can decide what to do
, Malian thought.
He can take the blame if things go wrong
.

Grace let out a harsh bark of laughter. “That’s the superdreadnoughts gone, sir,” she said. “I didn’t think it was possible!” “Have a little faith in the commodore,” Lars advised. He peered down at his scanner, then smirked. “We’ll give them a few moments, just to make sure they’re not trying anything clever, then slip back and jump out. And then all hell can break loose.”

“Aye, sir,” Grace said.

Kat looked down at the report, feeling cold ice congealing in her stomach. “Sound red alert,” she ordered. One way or the other, the die was cast. “Force One will advance and engage the enemy, as planned. Force Two will remain here for five minutes, then advance itself.”

And hope to hell we don’t screw up the timing
, Kat thought as she forced herself to relax.
If Redemption manages to get out an alert before we attack Aswan, we may be in some trouble
.

“Captain,” Roach said. He’d effectively taken over the XO’s job, although there was relatively little for him to do. “The makeshift squadron is ready to depart.”

“Then open the vortex,” Kat ordered. “Take us to Aswan.” She braced herself as the eerie lights of hyperspace flickered around

the freighters and the crippled warships. Her engineering crews had worked for days rigging their ECM, if only to make them
look
like enemy ships, but she knew they wouldn’t stand up to a close examination. A single shuttle flying past the squadron would let the cat out of the bag. She closed her eyes as shudders ran through the cruiser, then opened them as the gateway blossomed to life in front of her. The squadron streamed through, back into realspace.

“The lead freighter is sending the codes now,” Roach reported. “They should be up-to-date.”

Kat nodded. They were entering the danger zone, the moment when they could neither retreat instantly nor lunge forward in a suicidal attack. Commonwealth doctrine placed most emergence zones in that region, if only to prevent smugglers and raiders from doing anything stupid; looking at Aswan, Kat saw no sign the Theocracy disagreed. But then, they had fewer shipping concerns than the Commonwealth. Their spacers probably hadn’t noticed any additional security measures . . .

“Receiving confirmation now,” Roach said. “They’re trying to raise the cruiser.”

Shit
, Kat thought. They’d gone through every scrap of recovered data, but there simply hadn’t been enough to fake a convincing message from the destroyed ship. Perhaps it would have been wiser to claim the convoy had been attacked, that the escorts had died saving the freighters, yet it would have forced the Theocracy to inspect the ships before they managed to get anywhere near a sensitive target.
Now what
? “Hold the ships on course,” she ordered. The enemy shuttles were already departing the repair yard, heading towards the freighters. Even assuming the ECM held, and that was doubtful at close range, it wouldn’t be enough to stop the Mark-I Eyeball. “Send them back a message suggesting communications problems.”

“Aye, Captain,” Roach said. “I could have the freighter CO inform them that the cruiser lost most of her communications arrays.”

“Do it,” Kat ordered. The enemy wouldn’t be fooled for long, if at all, but it might just win them some additional seconds. “Do you have passive locks on your targets?
”

“
Yes, Captain,” Roach said. “Enemy facilities, not enemy ships.”

“Commodore,” the tactical officer said, “Freighter Number 5 is claiming that
Holy Word
has lost her communications arrays.” Malian hesitated. The freighters were important, immensely so. They
needed
the weapons and equipment they carried, particularly the StarCom. Being able to coordinate their activities across the sector would make it easier to hunt down the raiders. But, at the same time, the freighters were behaving oddly and their escorts were showing a complete disregard for regulations. They’d sent their IFF pulses to the defenders, as they should, yet they hadn’t bothered to send anything
else
. He didn’t like it.

“Open direct links to the destroyers,” he said. If the cruiser
had
lost her communications arrays, he could at least speak to her escorts. And if he couldn’t . . . it suggested a number of unpleasant things, none of them reassuring. “I want to speak to their commanders personally.”

“Aye, sir,” the tactical officer said.