When his eyes adjusted slowly to the dark, Michael saw why Anna had wanted to come to this place. The pavilion was built to screen out the light from the park behind them. A single bench ran across its open face, looking out into the void, a sheer drop falling the best part of 2,000 meters down fractured basalt cliffs into the rain forests that carpeted the foothills of the New Hartz Mountains. The air was so clear, the horizon was visible: a rough-edged black shape sawed out of the stars, the only light coming from the soft orange splashes of the towns and villages scattered over the blackness of the forest.
For a long time they sat there, unmoving, silent. “We’ll be all right, won’t we?” Anna said finally.
Michael swore wordlessly; talk about the 10 million Fed-Mark question.
“Think so,” he said after a while.
“I wish I believed that. I’ve been through the operations order, Michael. I know what you’re up against. I’m worried it’ll be a bloodbath.”
“Listen, Anna,” Michael said fiercely. “I cannot predict what’ll happen any more than you can. But we have a few things going for us. The Hammers have no idea we’re coming, dreadnoughts are tougher than anything the Hammers ever sent into space, and Jaruzelska is running the show. The way I see it, we have better cards than the Hammers, and if we play them well on the day, yes, we’ll come through this. When it comes to the dreadnoughts, they’re not indestructible; no ship is. But I’ve taken them into action enough times to know that the Hammers still have not worked them out. They’re faster, accelerate better, turn quicker, have better armor, and I’ll have twenty- nine of the ugly bastards to back me up. They can take a lot of punishment, so I really think we’ll be okay.”
“Like I said, I wish I believed that.” Anna squeezed his hand hard. “No, that’s wrong. I guess I do believe it, if only because I have to. Otherwise, what the hell’s the point?” She sighed. “Come on, that’s enough sightseeing. Let’s get back. If it gets any colder, my nose is going to freeze and drop off.”
“Can’t have that,” Michael said as they walked back through the gardens. “It’s such a pretty nose even if it is a bit on the large-”
Whatever else Michael planned to say vanished when Anna scraped a handful of bitterly cold snow off a small wall and shoved it into his mouth.
Sunday, January 28, 2401, UD
Reckless,
“Captain, sir.”
“Yes, Jayla?”
“The up-shuttle’s just docked. The self-loading cargo’s big on green shipsuits, so I think Lieutenant Kallewi and his marines have arrived … finally.”
Michael grinned. “Pleased to hear it. It’s about time. I hope we don’t ever need them, but it’ll be good to have them just in case. Tell Kallewi I’d like to see him when he has dumped his kit.”
“Yes, sir.”
“When are we embarking the demolition charges?” “The special weapons security group has just confirmed we’ll have them this afternoon: 15:00 sharp.”
“Okay.”
Five minutes after Michael dropped the com with his executive officer, there was a soft knock on his door.
“Come!”
It was Kallewi. Michael stood up to shake hands, the marine’s thickset frame towering over him. Marines came in one of two equally lethal models: tall and heavily muscled or small and wiry. Kallewi was definitely one of the former.
“Have a seat,” Michael said, “and welcome to
“It is, sir.”
“Right, Janos. Anything I need to know?”
“No, sir. I’ve got a full team, thirty regular marines augmented by an assault demolition team. We were picked because we’ve just completed a month’s assault training together on the close-quarter combat ranges on Comdur.”
“Zero g and full grav?”
“Both, sir. And they let us cook off an obsolete demolition charge on one of the deepspace firing ranges. An old Mark 34. Impressive.”
“A Mark 34? What’s that? Two megatons?”
“Shade under, 1.7. We have the Mark 40 now, 2.1-megaton yield. Big enough to give the Hammers a headache.”
“I’d say so. Anything you need to know?”
“Well, actually, sir, there is. All we were told was to report onboard
Shocked, Michael felt his face twisting into a frown. “Are you telling me you don’t know why you’re here?”
“Yes, sir. That’s exactly what I’m saying. Apart from the obvious-that something seriously big involving the Hammers is going down-no, we don’t know.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Janos. Let me fix that. Operation Opera is why you’re here. We will be part of Battle Fleet Lima under the command of Vice Admiral Jaruzelska, and we are going to kick the Hammers … hard.”
Kallewi smiled, a thin, hungry smile that made Michael glad the marine was on his side. “I’ll have some of that, sir.”
“Okay. Let me run you through the operation as it stands at the moment.” He put a schematic summarizing the operation onto the holovid screen that dominated an entire bulkhead of his day cabin. “Here’s the target. It’s an asteroid right in the middle of a shit-awful mess of gravitational rips called Devastation Reef; we don’t know what the Hammers call it, but it’s where the Kraa-loving bastards manufacture the antimatter in their missile warheads.”
“Oh, shit,” Kallewi hissed through clenched teeth, visibly shocked. “I guessed we were getting into something important, but nothing quite that big. Hell, that’s big.” The marine sounded stunned.
“It is, and they don’t come much bigger. Let me run you through the time line and explain why we might need marine assault demolition teams.”
An hour later, a subdued Kallewi shook his head. “I’ve been a marine for a while, but I have not seen anything like this. Tell you what, sir. It’s going to be a pig. A real pig.”
“Now that you know what you’re in for, what else can I tell you?”
“The layout of the Hammer plant would be nice, sir.”
“I wish,” Michael said. “I’ve stopped asking, but the last time I did, I was told the intelligence people were being flogged hard to get something. I’ve not seen anything yet. It’s no comfort, but I’m sure the admiral is frustrated-everyone is-that she doesn’t actually know what lies underneath the surface of the asteroid. As things stand, if your team ends up with the prickly end of the pineapple, you’ll have to find your own way in.”
“I’m sure we’ll manage,” Kallewi said. “We’ll have three demolition charges. Ideally, we should get them close enough to the fusion plants and hope they trigger loss of containment. That’s off the top of my head, but I’m pretty sure that’s how we’ll have to do the job. Can you leave that with me, sir? I’ll get my team onto the problem right away. I should have a first cut plan within, ah … twenty-four hours. Absent any decent intelligence, it’ll be short on detail, but we’ll do our best. That okay, sir?”
“That’ll be good. I’ll com the last brief I received from the admiral’s staff to you: how the plant might be laid
