Accord of Mars (Accord Series Book 2) (13 page)

T
hen Acres laughed
.

My head snapped back up. It wasn’t a sarcastic laugh. He let out with a big, booming belly laugh. The kind that reminded you of Santa Claus - if Santa was into shotguns and explosives.

“You ass,” he said. Then he gave another chuckle. “You pompous old windbag.” He chortled some more.

Perrault was unamused. “Oh?” he said, his voice dangerous.

“You don’t know shit about the Old Man, if you ever thought he would back down from your shitty ass fleet,” Acres said. “The whole time you were taking your sweet time coming out here, he was over there planning how to beat you.”

“And then his son went and did it for him,” Acres chuckled some more. “Your Dad might be a little pissed that you’ve passed him for ship kills now, Thomas.”

The thought made me grin. “I hadn’t realized that,” I said. “But you’re right. I’ve got him solidly beat now.”

Perrault was turning redder by the minute. He shot me a warning glare, then turned back to Acres. No - I realized he wasn’t looking at Acres. He was making eye contact with the guard behind him.

“I don’t think we need two hostages,” Perrault said.

The guard drew his pistol and fired a shot into the back of the Chief’s head.

“No!” I screamed. I struggled against the guards holding me, trying to get to his side.

But it was too late. His mouth was open in shock, his eyes rolled back into his head. There was no exit wound from the bullet, but I could tell Acres was dead before his body hit the floor.

I closed my eyes, feeling almost like I’d been shot myself. Wishing I had been. Acres was an old grump, but he’d been in my life as long as I could remember. When Dad was off running the business, Acres was the one who kept an eye on me. He’d taught me as much about tactics as my father ever had. He’d never once said I wasn’t good enough. Never once implied I was a disappointment.

He’d always had my back. Right up until his last moment, when he stood up for me against Perrault. And died for it.

I snapped my eyes back open.

“You’re an ass, Perrault,” I said. “Worse, you’re an incompetent ass. And a vicious man to boot.”

One of the guards holding my arms elbowed me in the ribs hard. My breath went out, and I dropped to one knee, gasping.

“No, let him up,” Perrault said. “In fact, cut him loose. He’s not going anywhere.”

I begged to disagree, but I wasn’t going to argue the point with him if it got my hands free again. The guard looked dubious, but he snipped off the zip-ties. I stood back up and rubbed my wrists to work away the red gouges the ties left on my skin.

“You were saying?” Perrault asked, gesturing for me to continue. He had a smirk on his face that I wanted to wipe away. He felt like he was in charge here. But I knew differently. He was letting his temper get the better of him, which meant he was already out of control.

“You’d already taken out the station defenses. You could have captured the station, kept it as a resource. Captured the ships there. Stolen the plans for our newest ships and tech,” I said. “But you were so pissed off about losing your fleet that you blasted the station to bits instead.”

I took a couple steps toward him. The smirk was gone. He knew he’d flubbed that one.

“And then you kill Acres. Since when is one hostage worth more than two? With him around, you might have used his life to ensure my good behavior. How do you plan to do that now?” I asked.

“What will you do, talk me to death?” Perrault retorted.

“I’ve done a pretty good job of screwing you so far,” I said. “What makes you think I’m done now? Face it. You’ve lost your temper twice now. You’re pissed and you want to take that anger out on someone.”

He raised his hand to strike me.

I didn’t move or flinch. I just cocked an eyebrow at him.

He froze. Then he lowered his arm and looked away. Something I’d said had struck home.

I wasn’t sure it mattered. He’d been bloodied, and his crew was just as angry as he was. They’d lost so much. This attack wasn’t just about winning anymore. It was about vengeance. Military targets, civilian targets - I wasn’t sure that distinction mattered anymore. Not to any of them.

“You can still end this,” I said. I made my voice softer now. I needed to be the voice of reason. “You were once my father’s friend. You have honor. The man you serve has none. Turn around. Go back to Earth. There’s already been enough death today.”

Inside I was raging. Acres’ body was still cooling on the deck beside me. Perrault might not have pulled the trigger, but he gave the order. I wanted to feel my fingers tighten around his neck. I wanted him dead, almost as badly as I wanted Choi gone. And I wanted to be the one to do it.

But what I said about him was true for me as well. If all we did was avenge our dead, over and over, there would never be an end to it. If the Chief had taught me anything, it was that while you ought to prepare for war and fight your hardest when needed - peace was better.

My gut said he would approve. I trusted my instincts. After all, he’d helped form them.

“I wish I still had honor like you talk about, Thomas,” Perrault said, after taking several breaths. “But now all I have is duty. Duty to avenge my dead. Duty to obey my orders. Duty to end this war, once and for all, before it grows and wipes out humanity.”

Perrault sat down and buckled himself in. He wasn’t looking at me anymore.

I shook my head sadly at him. What else could I possibly say? After all, I understood the emotions he was experiencing only too well. The only difference was that I’d been taught to value honor over duty, instead of the other way around.

“Have a seat, Thomas,” Perrault said, gesturing to the chair next to him.

“Why?”

Ignoring me, he spoke instead to his bridge crew. “Come to two gravities of acceleration. How long until we’re in range of Mars with the main gun at that rate?”

There was a moment of pause before someone answered. “Twenty four minutes, sir.”

The ship began to move. I could feel the engines driving us forward. I sat down and buckled myself in next to Perrault. At two gravities, I’d be tossed against the back wall if I wasn’t strapped down.

“You’re going to strike the surface with your railgun,” I said. It wasn’t a question. I knew what he had in mind. I wondered if even Dad’s deep stronghold would survive a strike from so powerful a weapon.

“Only if your father’s actions demand it,” Perrault replied. “With luck, he will simply surrender and we can stop the bloodshed right away.”

I didn’t believe him.

“Sir?” One of the bridge crew broke hesitantly into our conversation. We both looked at her, welcoming the distraction. “Incoming radio signal.”

“From where?” Perrault asked.

“Somewhere between us and Mars, sir. I’m working to locate the source.”

“I’m betting that’s your father, Thomas,” Perrault said. “Let’s see if he’ll listen to reason once he learns we have you here. After all, what father could blow up the ship where his son was held prisoner?”

I grimaced. How many times had my Dad done his best to keep me out of danger? He’d shoved me off to safety - or at least tried to - more times than I probably knew. I’d managed to get into a good deal of trouble over the past year despite him, but it wasn’t for lack of his trying to keep me in one piece. This was the ultimate test, then. And I honestly didn’t know what my father would do when the chips were down like this. Would he surrender, and sacrifice everything to save me?

“Put him on screen,” Perrault said.

M
y ship was buttoned up
, everyone at action stations and as ready as we were ever going to get. I looked around, glad of the crew I had. I didn’t know what our chances were of stopping the monster bearing down on us, but they were a hell of a lot better than they had been a little while ago.

The back of my mind was full of worry over Thomas. If Flynn was right and he was responsible for destroying the Earth fleet, where was he now? Best case, he was a prisoner on board the ship I was about to destroy. Worst case…

But I kept those thoughts to the background. My main concern had to be stopping this menace before it could come any close to my homeworld. Because while Mars might not be the planet of my birth, it was certainly the one I called home now.

“Are the Hawks away?” I asked.

“All twelve, yes sir,” Diaz replied. “Running silent at the enemy. I’m displaying their coordinates on the tank now.”

New lights sparkled into existence in the holotank. They were moving fast, like arrows shot from my bow straight at the heart of my opponent. The fighters were agile, but fragile. Once they got close they’d be hard to hit. If the enemy flagship caught them at range, they could potentially be picked off by missile fire. The fighters’ stealth was good, but not perfect. I needed to create a distraction. Keep them looking elsewhere so they didn’t spot the Hawks.

“Harris, put a call in to the enemy ship,” I said.

“They’ll use it to trace our location, sir,” he warned.

“Can we bounce the signal off a satellite, hide ourselves a bit longer?” I asked.

“Yes sir. But they’ll still likely be able to find the source of our signal. They’ll know where we are.”

He was sweating, but he kept his voice steady. I appreciated that. It was a situation worth sweating over. “We need to buy the Hawks some time,” I said. “Put me through.”

“Aye, sir.”

A few moments later my screen flickered to life as the enemy accepted the transmission. I figured they probably would. What I wasn’t counting on were the two seated figures centered in my screen. Perrault - and Thomas. I masked my surprise as best I could, but my mouth felt dry and my heart beat faster seeing that my son really was alive. And right in the last place in the universe I wanted him to be.

“Admiral, I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,” I said. “And Thomas. I wasn’t sure I was going to see you at all. I should have listened when you said that reports of your death would be exaggerated. They treating you well?”

“As well as you might expect,” Thomas replied. He raised both his hands. He wasn’t handcuffed, which was something. “They executed Acres, Dad. Shot him in the back of the head.”

Perrault gave Thomas a look that held daggers before turning back to me.

“An unfortunate incident,” Perrault said, smoothing his uniform with his hands like he was trying to wipe blood from them.

“Is that how we should expect all prisoners of war to be treated now, Admiral?” I shot back. I wasn’t even trying to conceal my anger - and my disgust. He’d clearly ordered the execution. What had happened to the man I’d once known, that he would commit a blatant war crime? He’d been a good man once. I’d thought him a friend. He was poisoned with hate now though. There was no remorse in his tone or manner.

“No, of course not,” Perrault said. He straightened his uniform. Ever the proper one. “If you surrender your ship, you and your crew can expect full protections under the Geneva Convention.”

I barked a laugh. “You only have one ship, Barry. What makes you think I have any intention of surrendering?”

“The UNN Dreadnought is armed with a weapon capable of obliterating all traces of human life on Mars, Nick,” he replied. His voice was like cold lead. “And I have orders to use it to that effect if you resist. Please don’t make me do that.”

I saw Thomas make the smallest of nods. Perrault’s ship did have some sort of new weapon, then. And Thomas was convinced it would be able to do as he claimed. That was good enough for me. The threat was a real one. I glanced back at the tracking board. In another minute or so Flynn’s Hawks would be unloading their missiles at Barry’s dreadnought, and then we’d see how well she’d been built. The thing was monstrous. I hoped the little fighters had enough missiles to take her down.

Not that for one moment I planned on letting the Hermes sit this fight out. Not with so much on the line.

“I think you know as well as I do that surrendering isn’t an option,” I said. “Besides, you’ve always wanted a chance to show you were better than me. Well - this is your shot.”

Barry’s face grew red with anger. His hands gripped the sides of his chair. “You bastard. Just remember that you forced this on me.”

“Thomas,” I said quickly while Perrault was still spluttering. “I’m sending a friend your way for a call. Good luck, son.”

I hoped he understood the subtle hint. When Thomas showed me his wrists I’d seen something Perrault’s men had forgotten, or failed to realize the importance of. Not only were his hands free, he still had his watch. And unlike most smartwatches, Thomas’s didn’t rely on an outside network to communicate. That might make all the difference in the world, if we could just give him enough of a distraction. Which the Hawks were about to do in spades.

“You don’t dare fire on us,” Perrault said. “I have Thomas here. Even if you could somehow beat this ship - which you can’t - you’d never order the death of your own son.”

“I already did,” I replied, praying that I actually hadn’t. I eyeballed the holotank. The Hawks were already danger close. Flynn’s team would be firing any second now. “MSS Hermes out.”

Then I severed the connection.

“Bring the drives online,” I ordered. “Time to get us into the action.”

I
felt dazed
for a moment as my father cut off the comm link. The message was clear as day to me. He was going to do it. He’d do his damnedest to take this ship down. No matter what, he would defend Mars. Even if I was aboard.

Part of me was strangely satisfied. After all, this was what I’d always wanted. It was confirmation that he took me seriously, that he was willing to risk my life when it really mattered, just like he was willing to put his own on the line. I’d seen my father risk everything over and over again - except me. This was different. I knew that if Dad thought he had a chance of taking this ship out, there was a firestorm coming our way.

The rest of me was scared shitless. I’d never been so totally alone. I’d always had friends nearby. Acres, or Kel, or someone else I could count on to watch my back. Here I was trapped under guard on the bridge of the biggest ship anyone had ever constructed. In the hands of an enemy who didn’t care how many people he killed. With the best tactician alive out there in space plotting to blow up the ship I was sitting in.

And what had he meant about sending a friend my way for a call?

“You’d all better brace yourselves,” I said. I reached up and tightened down the straps holding me in my seat.

“He’s bluffing,” Perrault said. “He would never risk attacking us with you on board.”

I stared at him in disbelief. How had this man known my father for so long and yet never bothered to try to understand how he thought?

“You don’t understand my father at all, do you?” I said.

“Got a contact!” one of the men on the bridge called out. “Large ship, closing toward missile range.”

“That must be his ship,” Perrault said. “Put it up on the holotank.”

The dot appeared as a red mark slowly moving toward us.

“Still think he’s bluffing?” I asked.

“Doesn’t matter. If he only has one ship, he’s a dead man,” Perrault said. “Hermes, hmm? Your father always did have a thing for old ship names. What was that one?” he asked, tapping his chin in thought.

It took me only a moment to remember. Dad had bought me a model of that ship when I was a kid. It was the first aircraft carrier. “Oh. Shit,” I whispered, suddenly realizing what was coming our way.

“Multiple contacts, sir! Incoming contacts!”

The holotank lit up with twelve new contacts, all of them just about on top of us. Those had to be fighters. Dad had built a space carrier, and stealth fighters. He’d known Earth was building big ships. He’d known we couldn’t out build them. So he’d built a bunch of small ones instead.

“Incoming missiles! All of the new contacts are firing, multiple missiles inbound!”

“Anti-missile batteries on automatic,” Perrault ordered. “Weapons, lock those new targets and fire.”

“Having trouble acquiring the targets, sir. They’re too fast and too close,” one young ensign replied.

Twelve ships each shot what looked like four missiles. It wasn’t a massive barrage. But they’d fired from so close that the dreadnought’s defenses had barely any time to acquire them. I watched a few missiles blink out as a lucky shot took them down. A few more were taken down by outbound missiles that got too close, explosions annihilating both. Most of them were going to hit.

“Brace for impact!” Perrault shouted. “Multiple -”

The first explosions cut him off. One after another missiles slammed into the ship. Most hit too close together to tell them apart. The consoles to my left exploded in a violent display of light and sparks. The ship shook, metal shrieking as it was stressed beyond its ability to tolerate and tore apart.

The holotank was miraculously still running. I watched as the fighters streaked past the ship. They were already braking, coming about for another run.

“Damage report!” Perrault shouted.

“Forward armor has broken in ten sections, sir. We’ve lost half our missile tubes and about a third of our defensive guns. Venting atmosphere in four sections that we can’t seal yet because of debris.”

I grinned despite the desperate situation. They’d been solidly bloodied. “Still feeling confident, Admiral?” I asked.

“Yes,” he growled. He turned back to face the holotank. “Is the main gun still online?”

“Yes sir,” one of his men reported. That was bad. I’d been hoping one of those missiles might have taken it out. “Some damage, but it should still fire at least once.”

“How long until we can target the surface?” Perrault asked.

“Twelve minutes,” came the reply.

I stared, aghast. “You can’t!” I said. “You’d kill all those people? For what?”

“Without a base of support, your father is just one renegade with one ship,” Perrault said. “One way or another, this war ends today.”

“The Hermes is firing missiles, sir!”

“Target them with our defenses and return fire!” Perrault snapped. “Between our armor and our guns, they can’t do enough damage to stop us.”

The ship shuddered as it launched a volley of missiles, then shook again for another round. It was keeping up a rapid rate of fire. Even with the massive damage they’d sustained, this thing was huge. It had to have the magazines for a long slugfest. I hoped that Dad had built the Hermes to take the pounding he was about to receive.

I watched the fighters on the holotank as they came about. They didn’t bother coming to a full stop and returning. Instead they swung around in fast arcs, retaining a lot of their velocity. Two of them vanished as they turned, tagged by missiles. The rest darted back into the fight, firing at the rear of the ship as they came.

Dad’s fire looked light. I wondered if he was holding back. He was firing fast volleys, but each one only had twelve missiles. In contrast, there had to be at least fifty missiles in each wave of the dreadnought’s attack - and that was with half their tubes down!

The missiles passed each other in space. Dad’s shots were going to hit first. I gripped the sides of my chair hard enough that the metal bit into my hands. But the anti-missile guns were good, and took out most of the shots. Two missiles swung through and slammed into the front of the ship. More klaxons sounded, adding to the general confusion and din, but it didn’t seem like the ship’s rate of fire had been affected much.

I watched as over two hundred missiles sped through the night toward the Hermes, praying my father was able to pull another miracle out of his hat. And the Dreadnought continued firing, filling the space between the two ships with its deadly rain of missiles.