Alarm of War

ordering all of you to join me as I return to the space station Atlas, so that we may rejoin the Home Fleet. Anyone who refuses will face charges. Gloucester out.”

There was a long moment of silence. Then,

“Gloucester, this is Bristol. Unable to comply due to standing orders from New Zealand.”

“Gloucester, this is Australia. We are also unable to comply due to standing orders from New Zealand.”

“Gloucester, this is Perth. Unable to comply due to standing orders from New Zealand.”

And on they went, all except the destroyer Canberra, until the last ship, the tiny frigate Everest, issued its reply as well. “Gloucester, this is Her Majesty’s Ship Everest, Captain Johanna Fuller speaking. I’m sticking with the New Zealand. We’ve come too far to shirk our duty now.”

Captain Wicklow’s face grew dark as he stared at each of them in turn. “You shame the uniform you wear,” he said at last. “And I will see to it that none of you wear it much longer.”

A minute later, the Gloucester curved away from the small clutch of Coldstream Guards, dutifully followed by the destroyer Canberra. In a few moments they were gone. The remaining eight ships stayed in formation around the New Zealand.

Emily slumped back against her chair, then blew out a breath. “Just one big, happy family,” she said.

“This is not exactly how I pictured the end of my career,” Alex Rudd said mournfully.

“Private call from the Bristol,” Betty McCann announced. “It’s Captain Rowe for you, Lieutenant Tuttle.” Emily shot a glance at Rudd, who shrugged.

Captain Rowe’s face appeared on the screen. He didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “You’re playing a very dangerous game here, young lady.”

Emily looked back at him levelly. Alex Rudd came and sat beside her.

“Alex,” Captain Rowe greeted him. Emily remembered that Alex Rudd had started out as the junior Tactical Officer on the Bristol. Rowe turned his attention back to Emily, fixing her with a hard stare.

“No bullshit, Lieutenant. Is Julie Grey dead?”

Emily shook her head. “No, sir, but she’s badly injured.”

He looked at her appraisingly. “Does she know what you’re doing?”

She didn’t want to lie to this man. “Captain Grey gave me specific orders to destroy the enemy’s supply ships, sir. She did not want to give up command to Captain Wicklow for fear he would not fulfill the mission. As to the details, I will tell her when she regains consciousness.” If she regained consciousness.

“Captain Wicklow is within his rights to have your head on a platter, you know that?”

“We have to destroy the Dominion supply train,” she said evenly. “We are out of time. I have a plan in place. Captain Wicklow is content to break contact and run.” Beside her, Rudd nodded in agreement. Rowe’s eyes flickered to him.

“You in on this charade, Alex?”

“All the way,” Rudd replied firmly. “Captain Grey was using Emily’s plan when she was injured in the first attack.”

Chief Gibson was suddenly standing beside them. “I’m in this, too, Captain Rowe.”

Rowe’s face split into a broad grin. “I’ll be dammed, it’s Chief Gibson, the scourge of new lieutenants everywhere. I thought they retired your sorry ass, Chief.”

“Can’t get rid of me, Captain. Fleet’d fall apart in a heartbeat.” He frowned. “Captain, I was with Lieutenant Tuttle when she took out those two freighters that buggered the Invincible and Isle of Man. If it weren’t for her, Lionheart woulda been royally screwed. She’s right smart and she’s plenty fierce. With all respect to Captain Wicklow, nuthin’ timid about her.”

Rowe considered for along moment, then pursed his lips. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but okay, Tuttle, your show. I’ll do my best to keep Wicklow off you, but fair warning, when all this is over, you’re going to have to pay the piper. And Alex, you’ll be right there with her.”

“Yes, sir,” Emily said, not daring to believe what she just heard.

“Good luck. Bristol out.”

Emily took a long, shuddering breath. Get back in the game, girl. “Sensors! Status report! Where are the escorts and where are the supply ships?”

Chief Gibson pushed young Partridge aside and scanned his readings. “Dominion escorts are firing on our decoys. In another minute or so they’ll burn through the ECM and realize they’ve been suckered. The Dominion supply ships just passed into our missile range, but still at extreme range. They’re not evading yet, so I don’t think they know we’re here.”

“Merlin, assume tactical control of all weapons!”

“I have tactical control of all weapons systems,” Merlin confirmed.

Emily used a wand to mark an area between the Victorian ships and the Dominion group rushing toward them. “I want light chaff cover throughout this area.”

“That is within parameters,” Merlin replied.

”As soon as the chaff is placed, I want EMP bursts here and here, and I want proximity bomblets fired continuously into this area.”

“Munitions levels are low, Lieutenant. We have no more than eighty missiles worth of proximity explosives.”

“Then that will have to do,” she said. “Have lasers recharged?”

Merlin paused, then: “Lasers will complete recharging in thirty three seconds.”

Emily described the maneuver they were going to make. It would look like a backwards question mark, swinging the battle group away from the oncoming bogies and near the supply ships, then continue curving back the way they had come. “Fire lasers at the supply ships when we are at our closest point. If sensors don’t show kills, shoot whatever missiles are available.”

“Incoming missiles!” Gibson warned. “Merlin estimates four hundred plus missiles coming at us from the new bogey. ETA fifteen minutes!”

Emily took a moment to dictate a message to First Fleet to give Admiral Douthat a status report, downloaded it and launched the courier drone. Finished, she pulled her battle harness tight. “All ships, set close defense systems to full automatic! Radical maneuvering in ten seconds!” She took a deep breath. The white, strained faces of her bridge crew stared back at her. “Merlin, commence the firing and maneuvering sequence!” This was going to be very close.

Exhausted and spent, Emily fell back into the confines of the battle harness. She willed herself to relax, but then the New Zealand abruptly accelerated to full military speed and snapped to the right. The rest of the Coldstream Guards followed, as if joined at the hip.

“Closing on the supply ships,” Chief Gibson choked out. “Will be at our closest point in six minutes, forty seconds. The missiles from the Dominion reinforcements will reach us in about thirteen minutes.”

Emily caught Rudd’s eyes. He nodded. “Looks like we may be late for dinner,” he said calmly.

Emily worked at giving him a smile, but didn’t think she’d managed it. Macho bullshit, she thought. She calculated that each of her remaining ships had thirty three missiles chasing it. None of us are getting out of this alive. And the thought, the blunt acknowledgement of it, somehow gave her peace.

Chapter 56

On Board the Atlas Space Station