The Battle of the Hammer Worlds

Fleet, which message I am directed to read to you. It goes as follows:

“ ‘To all Fleet personnel. The governments of the Federated Worlds and the Worlds of the Hammer of Kraa have agreed that an armistice will come into effect today at 1200 Universal Time. At that time all military operations will cease, and all forces will disengage and withdraw. Detailed orders specifying how the terms of the armistice are to be met together with revised rules of engagement agreed to by both governments are being sent to all units and commands. The governments of both systems have further agreed that all prisoners of war shall be repatriated together with a full and complete accounting of any deaths in custody by no later than one week from the commencement of the armistice. Upon completion of that repatriation, the two governments have agreed to convene on Scobie’s World to negotiate and agree on the terms of a lasting peace, terms that will address the enduring concerns of the peoples of the Federated Worlds and the Worlds of the Hammer of Kraa.

“ ‘Signed, Martha Shiu, Admiral, Commander in Chief, Federated Worlds Space Fleet.’

“That is all.”

Thursday, May 4, 2400, UD

FWSS Eridani, Commitment planetary nearspace

“Commitment command, this is Federated Worlds Warship Eridani with heavy scouts Van Maanen and Groombridge in company inbound from Comdur system calling on 32, over.”

“Eridani, Commitment command. All ships maintain current vectors. Transmit vessel identities, approved flight plans, and confirmation that all weapons systems are disabled. Over.”

The operator looked bored, eyes looking off-holocam at something much more interesting than the command crew of a Fed heavy scout. His right hand was fiddling absentmindedly with the old-fashioned headset and boom mike perched on his head.

“Roger, Commitment command. Stand by.” Tanvi Kidav threw a backward glance across Eridani’s combat information center at Michael. She rolled her eyes theatrically.

Michael smiled. “Concentrate, sir,” he mouthed silently.

Kidav nodded, squinting for a moment as she commed the information Commitment command had asked for down the link. It took a while. The datastream had been slowed down to comply with the Hammer’s antiquated data transfer protocols.

There was a short pause as the Hammers checked and double-checked that Eridani and her sisters were not in fact an entire squadron of Federated Worlds heavy cruisers about to drop in-system to lay waste to Commitment.

“Eridani, this is Commitment command. Ship identities, flight plans, and weapons systems status confirmed. Maintain current vectors until final approach plan authorized. Contact Commitment nearspace control on vidcomm channel 55, over.”

“Eridani, vidcomm channel 55, roger, out.”

Kidav looked at Lenski, who was sitting silently alongside her. “What do you reckon, skipper? The Hammers are being uncommonly polite, don’t you think?”

“They are, Tanvi. I hope it doesn’t mean they are saving things up for us. Right, go to 55 and let’s see what they’ve got in store.”

“Sir.” Kidav commed the channel change.

Michael, tucked away safely out of sight of the holocam and under strict instructions to stay that way, shivered at the sight of the unlovely features of the Hammer’s duty controller for inbound traffic. An arrogant- looking man, he had an unblinking stare that was extremely disconcerting. Michael took a deep breath. The high- necked black uniform and the Hammer of Kraa sunburst picked out in gold thread on the left breast brought back memories he had spent a great deal of time burying.

Kidav flicked a glance across at him. “Fuck ’em,” she mouthed.

“And the horses they rode in on,” Michael mouthed back.

“Concentrate!” Lenski growled.

“Sorry, skipper,” Kidav mumbled, turning her attention back to the holovid. “Commitment nearspace control, this is Federated Worlds deepspace heavy scout Eridani with heavy scouts Van Maanen and Groombridge in company inbound to Planetary Transfer Station Zero Three per flight plan. Request approval for final approach, over.”

“Eridani, this is Commitment nearspace control. Stand by. Transferring final approach plan for PTS Zero Three. Acknowledge receipt.”

Kidav and Lenski looked at each other in relief. Michael shared the sentiment. Despite all the agreements and planning that had gone into this mission, it would not have surprised either of them if they had been put into a parking orbit for days on end for no good reason other than some imaginary slight against the might and majesty of the Hammer.

Fortunately, not this time.

The Hammer controller continued. “You are reminded that deviation from this plan without prior approval from Commitment nearspace control will be met with the immediate use of deadly force. No warnings will be given.”

“Commitment nearspace control, noted. Stand by.” Kidav nodded confirmation to Lenski that the approach plan had been received, had been passed by Mother as sensible, and was not going to run them headlong into the station or some other large, hard object in orbit around Commitment. “Approach plan received. Eridani with Van Maanen and Groombridge in company commencing final approach to Planetary Transfer Station Zero Three. Eridani, out.”

Kidav broke the link without waiting for the Hammer operator to acknowledge. Lenski leaned across. “Tanvi, I know this is the first time you’ve seen them up close, but don’t let it get to you.”

“Sorry, skipper.”

Lenski turned to Michael. “And remember, young man. Stay out of sight. We’ve got people to bring home.”

“Sir.”

Michael stared moodily at the holovid as Eridani circled endlessly around Commitment, her two companions trailing along behind her like tame dogs.

Below Eridani, the planet Commitment was a dramatic sight as the terminator raced across the planet’s chaotic mix of whites, blues, greens, and browns. It had been three days since they had dropped into Hammer space, and after a brief stay alongside the planetary transfer station-the ships had been treated as though they carried the Black Death-the Hammers had ordered them to unberth and move into low orbit. So they had, no doubt waiting for some mindless Hammer bureaucrat to decide that the prisoner transfer could go ahead.

“Looks pretty.”

Michael swung around. It was Bienefelt. “Oh, hi, Matti. Yes, it is pretty, but so is a well-chiseled tombstone. It’s the corruption underneath you’ve got to focus on.” His voice was bitter. He’d seen the list of prisoners to be repatriated together with what the Hammers were pleased to call the nonreturnees list. Nonreturnees! For a very long time Michael had stared at the list, anger never far from the surface.

Aaron Stone. Poor bastard. Even though he had made it out of Camp I-2355 and across Koenig’s High Pass to the safety of the Forest of Gwyr, he had not survived; the injuries he had sustained had been way beyond the capabilities of Fellsworth’s medics to fix. On top of the stick lost crossing Koenig’s, sixteen more had died along the way. Most from accidents, though four had died when their patrol had been caught in the open by two Hammer assault landers.

Not that Michael cared much how they had died. Dead was dead.

What he did know was that they all had died because of the Hammer, and one day there would be a reckoning. Fellsworth had made it. So had Chief Ichiro and the man-mountain himself, Marine Murphy. Leading