It took him longer than he’d expected to steer his way down the dusty track and set course for town. The attackers, whoever they were, had dropped a bomb right in the middle of the road, smashing it beyond repair. Daniel couldn’t imagine what had been going through their minds. There was literally nothing to be gained by making life harder for rescuers. And besides, all he’d had to do to get around the crater was steer the tractor off the road. The move would burn up more of his fuel, which he doubted he’d be able to reclaim from the government, but it didn’t matter. People needed help.
He saw the plume of smoke rising in the distance long before the town itself came into view at the end of the road. It had been built within a valley, the better to hide from the sun, but he knew, the moment he laid eyes on it, that the town was doomed. The bombs, whatever they were, had smashed the valley walls. It wouldn’t be long before the townspeople had to move elsewhere. But where could they go?
Parking the tractor at one end of the valley, he jumped off and hurried down towards the collapsing buildings. A number had already turned into piles of rubble, even though they’d been designed to stand up to the elements. Adults were working desperately to get the kids out of the valley, then dig through the wreckage to recover trapped or dead townspeople. It was so bad that Daniel honestly wasn’t sure where to begin.
They didn’t have to do this to us, he thought as he ran towards the nearest building. We were harmless.
He shuddered as the full implications struck him. Dorland was doomed. He hated the government, but he also understood that the government had to force its people to turn the land into a place humans could live and grow. The planet had always been on the margins; he knew that to be true, as much as he might resent it. Survival trumped everything else. But now . . . if the attackers had ruined a small town, what had they done to the rest of the planet?
And there’s no way to leave, he realized. We’re all going to die.
“Those lousy murdering fucking . . .”
“That will do,” Captain Ian Hales said. “Concentrate on your duties.”
The helmsman subsided. Ian sighed, inwardly. He didn’t blame the younger man for wanting to throw their cover to the winds and attack the Theocratic ship, but they had a mission to carry out. It had been sheer luck that HMS Peacock arrived on station in time to see the enemy cruiser enter the system and begin its murderous attack. He had no intention of wasting the opportunity to deal a decisive blow to the enemy fleet, even if it meant letting a crew of murderers get away. They’d get theirs, he promised himself. He’d see to it personally.
“Keep us near their position,” he added. “And don’t let them see us.”
“Aye, sir.”
Ian scowled as the enemy ship completed its bombardment. She was a modified light cruiser, according to the warbook; Peacock couldn’t have taken her unless she’d already been worked over by something nastier than a destroyer. He’d seriously considered ramming the enemy ship, taking her out at the price of losing his own vessel, but he had his orders. The navy had to trace the enemy ships back to their base.
“She’s moving away from the planet,” the tactical officer said. Her voice was grim. She’d served in the navy for four years, but most of it had been spent on the border. She hadn’t seen much of the war. “I think she’s preparing to leave.”
“Get ready to take us into hyperspace immediately after her,” Ian ordered. The enemy cruiser could not be allowed to detect their presence. She’d either turn on her shadow or lead her on a merry dance. She might even fly too close to an energy storm to keep Peacock from keeping a solid lock on her hull. “Stand by weapons and shields.”
He felt a pang of guilt. The people on the planet below weren’t citizens, not of the Commonwealth, but it didn’t matter. They’d done nothing to deserve having their planet bombarded, certainly not in a manner that would render their civilization unsustainable.
And any survivors will become refugees, he thought. As if there weren’t already millions of people looking for a safe place to live.
“The enemy ship is opening a vortex,” the sensor officer said.
“Take us into hyperspace,” Ian snapped. For a handful of seconds, the enemy sensors would be blinded by their own vortex. Even the most advanced systems would have trouble picking up Peacock’s presence. “Now!”
He braced himself as his starship opened a vortex and slipped into hyperspace. If they were wrong, if they’d made a mistake, they were about to be attacked. He had no doubt of it. The Theocrats would have to be utterly insane to let him get so close to one of their ships. But, as the seconds slowly ticked away, he allowed himself to relax. Their target was already setting course away from the system she’d devastated.
“Shadow her,” he ordered. “But hold the range open as much as possible.”
“Aye, Captain,” the helmsman said.
The sensor officer looked worried. “Captain,” she said,
