Alarm of War

The Dominion battleship and its cruiser escort had stopped, their sensors as blinded as the New Zealand’s, no doubt. Emily weighed the odds and felt only despair. One mammoth battleship and five cruisers against two damaged Vicky cruisers and two understrength destroyers. All they had in their favor was surprise.

Then Captain Specht of the Emerald Isle flushed her missile tubes and ruined any surprise they might have had.

“Emerald Isle, what are you doing?” Emily demanded, shock turning to anger.

“I am firing on the enemy,” Captain Specht answered tartly, “which is more than you seem capable of.”

“Gods of Our Mothers, you’re going to kill us all!” Emily shouted. “All ships, back into the minefield. Hurry!”

The ships spun in place and accelerated wildly…all except the Emerald Isle. She labored to come about, but her propulsion system was too damaged to be nimble and the most she could do was slowly swing her bow away from the enemy that even now was reaching for her with active sensors. A moment later twenty five battle lasers raked the Emerald Isle from stem to stern, and a minute after that the first missiles arrived.

On board the H.M.S. Yorkshire, Cookie watched the holo repeater in morbid silence. She was sitting on the hanger deck surrounded by her company of two hundred and forty Marines. One hundred or so carried air rifles that had been taken from the dead Savak commandoes or manufactured in the New Zealand’s work shop. The rest looked with displeasure at the six-foot sharpened poles they held in their hands.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” one husky Marine asked in disgust.

Never taking her eyes off the holo, Cookie said: “Stick ‘em with the pointy end, Wisnioswski, then take their weapon and shoot ‘em.”

“Bugger me,” he muttered sullenly.

“Shut up, Wisnioswski, you’re boring me.”

Lori Romano came and flopped down on the deck beside her. “Cookie!” she whispered excitedly, “we’ve been playing with the transporters.” She paused, eyes gleaming.

Cookie shifted her gaze from the holo to the AI specialist. “What? Spit it out.”

“We’ve got a firm lock on the engine room of the big Dominion battleship,” Romano said. “We could send one hundred and twenty guys there any time you want.”

Cookie blinked. “Really? No bullshit?” Romano nodded soberly. “How soon?” Cookie asked, excitement beginning to grip her.

Romano shrugged. “As soon as you can get the Marines into the transporters. We’ve got them warmed up and ready to go.”

Cookie leapt to her feet, fumbling with her communicator. “Grant? Grant? We’ve got a way to take out the battleship. Grant, answer me, dammit!”

Two hectic minutes later, Cookie and Grant Skiffington were talking to the New Zealand via a whisker laser.

Emily was watching the battle display when the call came in. She could see the Vengeance and its remaining five cruisers shake into formation for the final push through the minefield. Once through, there would be nothing standing between them and the Atlas except Emily’s pathetically small task force.

“Priority message coming in from the Yorkshire, Ma-am,” Betty called out. Emily tore her eyes off the battle display with difficulty. “Put it up, Betty,” she ordered.

Cookie and Skiffington talked excitedly, interrupting each other and at one point starting to argue, but Emily got the idea.

“That sounds nuts!” she told them.

“No, no Em, it’s exactly what the Tillies did to us on the London. They swarmed over us,” Cookie said breathlessly.

Emily thought for a moment. If the battleship was out of the picture, they might be able to hold off the cruisers until Admiral Douthat got back. Then she remembered the promise she had made to Hiram.

“Cookie, once you’re on the Vengeance, how will you get back?”

“Well, that part really sucks, doesn’t it?” Cookie said, a devil-may-care grin plastered on her face. “But we’ve got to stop that damn battleship, Em. Stop it or lose everything.”

“If they can take the Vengeance, I’ll be able to take them off afterwards,” Grant Skiffington said, but Emily could see he didn’t really believe it.

Emily closed her eyes. She knew if she ordered Cookie to go in, there was little chance of her getting back. How would she ever face Hiram again?

“Go!” she said. “Disable the battleship and then bail out in the life pods. We’ll figure out how to handle the cruisers.”

Cookie grinned, then faltered. “Tell Hiram-”

Emily cut her off. “Just get your ass back here, that’s an order.”

“Yes, Ma-am!” Cookie cut the connection.

“I’ll bring her back,” Grant said again.

“Grant, until Admiral Douthat arrives, there are just the four of us. Just the New Zealand, Yorkshire, Kent and Galway. I can’t afford to lose your ship, do you understand?” Emily felt cold. Her voice seemed far away, removed.

Grant stared at her, his mouth opening, then closing. “Christ, Emily, listen to you.” He shook his head and cut the connection without another word.

And despite the fact that she knew she was right, knew she was doing the right thing, Emily felt ashamed.

On the Yorkshire, Cookie met the inquiring gaze of Master Sergeant Zamir. “They want us to go in,” she said simply.

Zamir nodded impassively. “Thought they would, if they believed your hair-brained idea.” He held her gaze. “You know that not everybody who goes will make it back? That’s just the way it is.”

“I know, Master Sergeant.” But the weight of it suddenly pressed down on her.

“Lead on, Sergenat Ortiz, I think this is your show,” Zamir said, but with an odd gentleness in his voice that Cookie had not heard before.

Cookie stepped on top of a packing crate and held up her hands for silence. The murmur of two hundred and forty Marines faded away, all eyes on her.

“We’re goin’ in,” she said simply. Some cheered, some looked stricken. She held up her hands again. “We’re goin’ in two waves. First wave, two gunners for every man with a spear. Second wave, all the rest. Specialist Romano and her team will operate the Tilleke transporters. You Marines do what they say, no questions, no bullshit.

“Once we’re on the Duck battleship, we take the engineering deck and the bridge, then secure the rest of the ship,” she said.

“What do we do with prisoners?” somebody called from the back.

“Cuff them to a stanchion and leave ‘em,” she answered. “If they resist, kill them.” The Marines glanced at each other, smirking. Cookie did not expect to see a lot of prisoners. “Move fast! Keep hitting them. If your squad gets separated, just keep moving towards the bridge.”

“Where is the bridge?” another voice called.

“No fuckin’ idea,” Cookie said cheerfully. “We’re Marines, we’ll figure it out. Everybody up! Equipment check, then move into the Tilleke ships and take a seat. Move!”

Nine minutes later, Lori Romano wiped the sweat from her forehead, said a silent prayer and activated the transporters on the first Krait ship.