Battlecruiser Alamo: Not One Step Back (29 page)

 “Yes,” Marshall said, cautiously.

 “Fine. Give it to her and send her over as my deputy. I need someone good over here, if only to handle all the paperwork and admin stuff.”

 “She’s not going to thank me for this…but agreed. I suppose that’s fair enough.”

 “I want some espatiers as well.” He paused, and before Marshall could reply, said, “I know where you are going, granted, but I need some. You’re sending some off on Orion anyway, give me some of those. A fire team, and you can promote Volski and put him in charge.” 

 “Private Volski? Why?”

 “Because he was smart enough to come to my attention, but not so smart to realize that it might not be a good idea.”

 Tapping commands on a datapad, Marshall looked up, “I’m processing the transfer orders now, but that’s as far as it goes. One officer, four troopers, you’ll have to manage.”

 “And Harper.” 

 Sighing, he replied, “I need her…”

 “She knows far too much about critical intelligence software.”

 “You gave it to her!”

 “The source of her information isn’t really relevant. Besides, she’s over here, and possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

 “Fine, Harper as well – but that is it,
Winter!
”

 Nodding, Logan replied, “Just make sure all of our stuff gets shipped across on the transfer shuttle.”

 “Will do.”

 “And the best of luck with the big trip, I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”

 “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

 Turning off the communicator, Marshall looked over at Cunningham, sitting in the corner of the room, out of shot. His face was still cracked with a smile, and it was obvious that he was making an extreme effort not to laugh. 

 “He really hustled you there, Danny.”

 Shrugging, he replied, “He probably has a point. I can’t just leave him out there by himself – and Ryder might as well enjoy her promotion. She might be waiting for months otherwise.”

 “You could always send her out with me.”

 “Sorry, John. She’s needed here.”

 Cunningham looked out at the scout, drifting beside Alamo, “Are you sure about this?”

 “Not much of a first starship command, but she’s got some pretty advanced hardware. I suspect they’ll just name you as commander permanently when you get back; I think the re-insurers will be too busy taking Cornucopia to the cleaners to protest about the fleet taking the ship. I’d fight to keep that communications suite if I was you..”

 “Don’t worry, I will.” He paused. “Why not give it to Zebrova? She wants a command.”

 “She turned down one of those, and with good reason.” He stood up, looking out of the viewport. “It has to be someone senior, and it has to be someone with connections. You’re taking all of the data that Winter and Orlova sucked out back with you, as well as a memory store that could see some of the most prominent businessmen in the Confederation tried for treason. Not to mention that your first act will be to capture a freighter.”

 “I hate to say it, but…”

 “Alamo should go back? Under normal circumstances, it would, but we have a mission to complete. I know that Commodore Tramiel would probably be happy enough with the outcome, but…”

 “You just want to go.” 

 “Yes,” he nodded, sheepishly. “If we don’t head out now, we might not get another chance for months – if ever. I’ll settle for being a little short-handed.”

 “Me, ten crewmen and now just four espatiers – to guard seven prisoners.”

 “Keep them locked in the hold.”

 “With guns trained on the door, I know.” He looked around the room again, “I’m going to miss all this.”

 “I’d like to have you with me out there, but…”

 “I know. I’ve got a job to do, and I’ll get it done. You realize this makes Zebrova your new Exec.”

 Grimacing, Marshall said, “I’ll adjust. Who knows, she might actually be good for me.” He paused, then said, “Thanks for coming after me.”

 “You’d have done the same for me. In fact, you did, when I first came on board. I won’t forget that.” Holding out his hand, Marshall shook it firmly. “It has been a pleasure serving with you, and I hope to do so again.”

 “So do I. When are you heading out?”

 “We’re completing the last few system checks now, so in around three hours. Alamo?”

 “As soon as I decide where we’re going.”

 “You still haven’t?”

 “Two choices. I might end up tossing a coin.”

 Nodding, Cunningham made for the door, “I’d better go over to my ship, get them moving.” He paused, turned and saluted, “Permission to disembark, Captain.”

 “Granted, Lieutenant,” Marshall replied, returning the salute. “Have the drinks lined up when we get back.”

 “I will.” He walked out of the office, and Marshall turned to sit down behind his desk, pulling out the datapad with the two courses projected on it. Both of them could take him out to the Cabal, but equally, both of them could lead nowhere. The hardest choice of his career, and he had no information to work with.

 Trying to d
istract
himself, he browsed over the summary of the data retrieved from Spitfire. Undoubtedly, it was fantastic material – proof that the ‘piracy’ was nothing more than a ruse to transfer data to operatives of the Cabal. The only question that remained was why Alamo had been sent for; all he could think of was that the insurers had started to complain, and that Cornucopia had decided to ask for help in the expectation that they wouldn’t receive it. Had Tramiel not had other things in mind, they’d have been right. His reverie was disturbed by the door chime. Dropping the datapads down to the desk with a clatter, he looked up.

 “Come in.”

 Orlova walked in, clutching a datapad, her knuckles white. She looked as if she had been struck on the head, and sat down with a daze opposite Marshall; she had tears in her eyes.

 “What’s wrong? News from home?”

 She shook her head, then placed the datapad down on the desk opposite him, “When I ran the hack on Demeter…”

 “Nice piece of work, by the way; I’ve put you in for a commendation.”
 “There was a file that seemed to jump out at me when it recognized the intrusion software. I thought it was a virus, so I placed it securely behind the firewall, and I started to examine it half an hour ago.”

 “And?”

 “It’s a video file, tightly compressed. I’ve checked it out, and I know it’s genuine. The date readings indicate that it was made six years ago, and the header makes it clear that it is intended for senior Martian or Triplanetary officer present.”

 “Interesting,” Marshall said. “What does it say?”

 “I don’t know, sir. I only watched the first second or so, just to make sure it was real. I can assure you, with absolute certainly, that it is.”

 “Well, throw it up on the monitor, let’s take a look.”

 She shook her head, standing up, “No, sir. This one is for your eyes only.”

 “Your clearance is only one step behind mine, besides, you found it.”

 “No, sir.” Her hand was shaking. “I’ll have the senior staff meet in the briefing room in fifteen minutes. I think you’re going to want them when you’ve seen it.”

 “I thought you didn’t know what the message was.”

 “Trust me on this one, Captain.” She paused, “If you need to talk, afterward, then feel free.”

 Looking down at the datapad, Marshall frowned, then nodded, “Very well, Sub-Lieutenant. I’ll see you in the briefing room shortly.”

 Nodding, she turned, leaving the room. The door slid shut behind her, and he looked down at the datapad, rubbing his hand across his chin. He couldn’t imagine what would make the implacable Orlova act like that. Settling himself down, he activated the message, and then immediately hit pause.

 His father’s face was looking up at him from the screen. Marshall’s eyes shot up to his picture on the wall, then back to the datapad. It was him, could be no-one else. A few more lines, hair turning gray, but it was his father. Taking a deep breath, he played the message.

 “This is Major William Marshall, formerly commander of MSS Hercules. If you are reading this message, then you have successfully hacked a spaceship operating under the aegis of the Cabal, an organization that dominates a stretch of space beyond Sol System. Their intentions, to the best of my knowledge, are to ultimately take control of all human space.”

 “I must regretfully report that my ship was taken by subversion; infiltrators were able to control all critical systems, forcing my surrender. The loyal members of the crew and myself are to be disembarked on a world on the outer limits of their empire, the sixth planet out from Innes’ Star. My understanding is that they are providing us with needed support systems, and we are being treated as prisoners of war under the terms of the Fifth Geneva Convention.”

 “This message is being made without the knowledge of our captors. Attached you will find a list of those who are stranded, those who have opted to turn traitor, as well as my current impressions of the tactical situation, and everything we know about Innes’ Star.”

 “I request that you immediately pass this message on to higher authority, and attempt to organize a rescue mission. My men and I will be waiting for you at Innes’ Star; we’re counting on you to save us.” Someone spoke off-camera, and he glanced to the right, “Also – pass a message to Second Lieutenant Daniel Marshall, my son. Tell him that I love him.” He looked off-screen again. “Good luck. Marshall out.”

 He stared at the empty screen for what seemed like hours, then played the message again, watching every frame, then closing his eyes to listen to his father’s voice again. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he rubbed them with the back of his hands to clear them, reaching for a tissue. He pulled out the datapad again; the choice of destination could not be more obvious now.

  Looking at his father’s face up on the wall, he said, “I’m coming for you, Dad. I’m coming to bring you home.” Then he tapped the intercom, “Captain to crew, attention. Stand by for hendecaspace transition in twenty minutes. All personnel proceeding to other postings, report to transfer shuttles on the double.”

 Tapping for the bridge, Steele’s face appeared, “Sir?”

 “Make best speed to the hendecaspace point. You will conclude jump immediately on arrival.”

 “To Proxima Centauri, sir?”

 “No.” Tapping for astrogation, he said, “Mulenga, implement your course for Innes’ Star.”

 “Excellent,” he replied, “We’re going somewhere new. What decided you?”

 “I’ll tell you at the briefing.”

 With a smile, he replied, “I’ll see you there.”

 He stepped out onto the bridge, looking around at the faces who turned to him as he approached, confusion on their faces.

 “Mr. Weitzman, please seal the ship of all outgoing communications. Nothing in or out.”

 Frowning, he nodded, “Aye, Captain.” He tapped a sequence of buttons, “All secure, sir.” 

 Settling down in his command chair, he said, “Thank you. Put me on speaker.”

 “You’re on, sir.”

 “This is the Captain again. As you know, our mission following the removal of the pirate threat was to proceed to Proxima Centauri, to engage in field exercises. That mission is now canceled; I am operating under sealed orders, direct from the President.”

 Faces turned to each other, and he continued, “Our orders are to head out into unexplored space, and attempt to locate the Cabal. This is the most important mission we’ve ever had, and it’s going to require each and every one of you to do their best. We won’t be coming back home for a long time, and I apologize for the deception.” He paused again, clutching the datapad, “Our first destination is Innes’ Star, where we will proceed to rescue personnel from MSS Hercules.”

 Those of the bridge crew who knew his connection to that ship began to smile, Weitzman nodded to himself, and Spinelli started to beam.

 “All hands, stand by for jump.” He sat back in his chair, heedless of the officers waiting for him below, and looked back at the picture of his father. Fourteen years without any word, any hope, and he might be seeing him face to face in a week.

 “Course ready for hendecaspace point, sir,” Tyler said.

 “Then by all means, Mr. Tyler, lets get on with it.” He sat back in his chair as Alamo’s engines fired, urging it to its destination. Seven days. That wasn’t long to wait.

Thank you for reading 'Not One Step Back’'. For information on future releases, please join the Battlecruiser Alamo Mailing List at http://eepurl.com/A9MdX for updates. If you enjoyed this book, please review it on the site where you purchased it.

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Coming Soon...

Battlecruiser Alamo, Book 6: Battle of Hercules

Spitfire Station, Book 1: Triple-Cross

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27