Traitor's Duty (18 page)

 “She just wants a little love and attention,” Logan said, patting the console. “Next stop, Mars!”

Chapter 17

 “Sir, Lilith’s Bar has just entered hendecaspace,” Steele said, shaking her head.

 “Congratulations, Sub-Lieutenant,” Marshall replied, standing from his command chair. “I think you’ve just issued the most surreal tactical update in the history of the Triplanetary Fleet.”

 “We’ve only been official for three years, Danny,” Caine said with a wide grin. “Give it time.”

 “Is Watson below?” Marshall asked.

 “Secured in our temporary second brig; the midshipmen are being held in separate quarters down on the lower habitation deck.” Caine shrugged, and said, “We ran out of brigs. Alamo wasn’t built to carry large numbers of prisoners.”

 “Cooper’s people are watching them?”

 “Like a hawk. Barbara wants to speak with you as well, now that we’ve managed to extricate her from Cooper’s embraces.”

 A smile crossed Marshall’s face, one of the few he had managed since this nightmare began, and he replied, “I can’t blame either of them, can you?”

 “Hell no. Who do you want to see first?” 

 “The one on our side, I think; have her come up to my office. I’m going to need time to prepare myself for Watson. I’ll still trying to get used to the idea that people in our own damn Fleet are working against us.”

 “I think I’d rather not get used to it,” Steele said. “I don’t want it to ever happen again.”

 “There we agree, Sub-Lieutenant.” Marshall walked across to his office, stepping through the door and taking his usual seat behind his desk, looking around the room. A dozen datapads, each flashing a ‘memory full’ warning, were sitting on it for his attention. Captain Winter had managed to let the paperwork build up to a new record backlog, even by his standards. Nine days before they got home and everything went crazy.
T
he last thing he wanted was a court-martial for administrative incompetence. Bad black mark on his record. Though admittedly, it paled be
side
hijacking a battlecruiser.

 He looked out of the window at the dim star at the heart of the system, trying to find his usual solace in the view, but this time he couldn’t seem to rest or relax; he was too tensed up, and he knew why – the five people under confinement below decks. There was a knock on the door, and it opened to reveal Barbara standing at the entrance, wearing a brand-new uniform.

 “Sir,” she began, “I must inform you that I am currently AWOL from my assigned posting.”

 “Who isn’t?” Marshall said. “Right now, I think that’s the least of our problems. Have a seat.” As she sat down opposite him, he said, “What’s the situation back home? How’s Orlova?”

 “When I left Mars two weeks ago, she was recovering from a gunshot to the leg; not the security services, the occupants of a drug lab. It’s a long story.”

 “For once I’m looking forward to going over the after-action reports.”

 “The impeachment process is still ongoing, and Senator Harper believes that it won’t be resolved until just before the election. Both the Progressive and Technocratic parties don’t have anything to gain by closing the book on it.
T
hey want to take the maximum advantage from the mess that they can.”

 “Which means we should have the time we need to present our case to the Senate. Alamo should enter Mars orbit with a few hours to spare.” Shaking his head, he continued, “We’re really cutting it close this time.” 

 “Couldn’t we send them on ahead? Commandeer a transport, put a prize crew on board as well as Cooper’s platoon, and get them to Mars five days earlier?”

 “We could, but that’s even more risky. A transport is far too vulnerable, and I know if I was running any of the stations right now, I’d be instituting checks on passenger manifests and inspections we
couldn
’t get through.”

 “Captain Winter might have...,”

 “I don’t see how,” Marshall interrupted. “He’s going to have enough trouble getting himself through security, without explaining why a platoon of Triplanetary Espatiers and five members of the conspiracy are on board.” Looking around, he said, “Taking them in on a battlecruiser might be a little obvious, but it’s the safest option.”

 “They’ve got bigger pieces on the table, sir,” she said.

 “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Is there anything else I should know?” 

 “Orlova and Nelyubov are in the Ragnarok Embassy at the moment, seeking refuge.
B
oth of them are facing charges of espionage for the Cabal. The Rockies are on our side in this, though I don’t know how much detail they’ve been given about this affair. Also, the President – Newton – and the Commandant are working out a new peace treaty, to take into account the assumed hostilities at Hades Station. Both of them seemed to think they could come up with something acceptable to all sides.”

 “Reasonable politicians. How did we get so lucky?” Marshall said. “What about the general population? How much do they know?”

 “Not much beyond the superficial. Both sides are slinging mud, but no-one’s said anything much yet. There’s a general agreement that the President should be impeached, but the peace treaty is staying off the radar.” She paused, then said, “The polls do suggest that it will be rejected in the next Senate session.
T
he Progressives are set for some good gains, and it’s the hawk wing of the Freedom party that’s surviving best.” Shaking her head, she said, “I’m a shuttle pilot, damn it, not a political strategist.”

 “Right now you are a messenger, Sub-Lieutenant, and I’m very glad to get your report. It means there is still some hope of resolving all of this quietly, much to my surprise.”

 She nodded, then said, “You’ve got a spare fighter on board, haven’t you, sir?”

 “I presume you’re offering to fly it.”

 “Technically I haven’t completed the fighter training course, sir, but I think I can handle it.”

 He nodded, and said, “I’ve seen you fly, and given what you’ve sacrificed to join us, I rather think that letting you ride fire is the least I can do. Go report to Senior Lieutenant Dixon, she’ll get you checked out on our kit and integrated into the squadron formation.”

 “Thank you, sir,” she said, saluting.

 “Any time.” He rose from his desk, following her from the room, stepping out onto the bridge. Evidently the distaste at what he was about to do showed. Caine rose from her station, moving over to him.

 “Want some company in your trip to the sewer?”

 “I’ll take you up on that.”

 The two of them stepped into the elevator, and Caine said, “You don’t have to speak to him at all. I think we both know what he’ll say. An appeal to patriotism, some sort of arrogant attempt at bluster, and a refusal to say anything specific. Just like Frank Rogers.”

 “Frank was different,” Marshall replied. “On some level, I still consider him a friend, strange as it sounds. He had my back often enough during the war, and I just find all of this so unbelievable. Watson? I’ve got no history with him.” He balled his hands into fists, and said, “Maybe I feel a little more open about what I can say.”

 “Be careful, Danny,” Caine warned. “We’re already perilously close to the line. The way you are talking right now, you’re dangerously close to crossing it.”

 He glared at her, and said, “They’ve done a damn sight more than crossing a line, Deadeye.”

 “Is that any excuse for us to?”

 Taking a deep breath, he replied, “It makes me angry, damn it. I thought this uniform meant something, I thought that it was a symbol of something better than we once were. I’ve told people out there that the Confederation is not an expansionist power, that it is not out to conquer the galaxy, and these bastards are making a liar out of me.”

 “I know, Danny, I know,” she said. “That’s why we’re trying to stop them, isn’t it? To prove that it is more than just words.”

 The elevator reached their destination, and the doors slid open, admitted them to the brig level. A pair of Espatiers snapped to attention as they approached, saluting the approaching officers; Marshall returned the salute.

 “No trouble?” he asked.

 “None, sir. They’re being quiet enough.”

 “Good,” he replied. “I want to speak to Watson.”

 One of the guards went over to a panel while the other asked, “Which of us do you want with you, sir?”

 “Neither, Private. Lieutenant Caine and I can handle ourselves quite well.”

 “I’m certain of that, sir, but Ensign Cooper left orders that no-one was to enter the prisoners’ cells without escort. I think he was concerned about people taking action on their own initiative.”

 Caine glanced at Marshall, then said, “Do you honestly think that the Captain and I fit into that category?”

 “No, ma’am, I don’t.”

 “Then by all means,” Marshall said, “please wait in the corridor. I imagine that you will be able to respond at once if needed.”

 “Before you finish asking, sir,” the trooper said, and Marshall stepped into the cell, followed by Caine. Watson sat slumped on the far side of the room, barely seeming to acknowledge their entrance, until the door slammed closed.

 “Let’s talk about a deal,” Watson said, looking up.

 “You aren’t in any position to offer me anything,” Marshall said, “
e
xcept testimony that I have no intention of trusting.”

 “Then why are you in this cell?” he replied. “I’ll give you a signed confession, complete with all the details you could ask for, in exchange for being left behind here at Spitfire Station. I guarantee that you will never see me again.”

 “That quick?” Caine asked. “You turn traitor that quickly?”

 “By your judgment, I already am a traitor, aren’t I? Should you be surprised that I change sides once again?” He leaned forward, and said, “I promise you that my testimony will satisfy everything beyond your wildest dreams, and my disappearance should strengthen your case even further. Were you actually answering to any higher authority at the moment, I imagine that you would face censure for letting a criminal escape, but let’s be honest, you’re the one making the decisions.”

 Marshall turned to Caine, briefly tempted to take the man up on his offer. As tempting as it would be to see him rot in a detention facility for the rest of his life, it was a pretty impressive plea bargain.

 “I don’t buy it,” Caine said. “A few hours ago you were calling on us to surrender. Was that some sort of bluff? And your actions while you briefly sullied Alamo with your presence don’t really fill me with any confidence.”

 “Take this any way you like,” he replied, folding his arms.

 “No,” Marshall replied, “Should your side win, then you’d be left hanging. They’d want your hide for testifying.”

 
Watson
smiled, and said, “I’m counting on your abilities to prevent that from happening. I have confidence in you, Captain, and in your impending flight to Mars. I just don’t want to be a part of it.”

 “There’s something else, isn’t there,” Caine said. “Something you aren’t telling us.”

 Leaning back against the wall, Watson replied, “I’ve offered you my testimony. About all of it, names, places, dates. You have to decide whether your revenge against me is worth sacrificing that.”

 With a smile, Marshall replied, “I’ll offer you a letter of amnesty, signed by myself and the other senior staff that will clear you of this whole affair and allow you to continue your career. On the condition that you testify to the Senate in person.”

 “No deal,” he replied. “I want off this ship, right now. I need plenty of time to get clear before the dust settles. And no, I have no intention of telling you where I plan to go.” 

 Marshall glanced at Caine, then said, “You don’t think we’re going to get to Mars. There’s something out there to stop us, something that will prevent us getting back with our testimony. It doesn’t matter what you tell us if there is no way we are going to be able to deliver it.”

 His voice laced with sarcasm, he replied, “Are you telling me that the great Captain Daniel Marshall can’t get past a little thin
g
like a Triplanetary trap? You certainly managed to dance around the Cabal effectively enough.” Shaking his head, he
continued
, “I would have thought that you would have been one of the ones wanting a war, or is it just that you don’t want to get your precious hands dirty?”

 “Only a fool seeks war,” Marshall said.

 Looking him in the eyes, Watson replied, “I’m fighting for the Confederation, damn it, and if that means a pre-emptive strike to win the war, I’m happy with that.”

 “Pearl Harbor,” Marshall replied. “That worked out very well for the Japanese, didn’t it. Do you really want to commit us to something like that?”

 “I’ve got news for you, Captain, you’ve already done it when you attacked Hades Station.”

 Standing up, Marshall said, “Watson, you’re going to be with us when we reach Mars. You might want to consider that any trap that destroys us is going to take you down as well. If you want to tell me what’s waiting for us at the far end of this journey, contact the guards and let them know you want to see me.” Turning to the door, he finished, “Otherwise I don’t see much point in our continuing this conversation, do you?”

 Marshall and Caine knocked twice on the cell door. As it slid open, Watson looked up for a second as if considering finally talking, but shook his head and remained silent. Once the door was closed safely behind them, Caine placed her hand on Marshall’s shoulder.

 “The battleships.”

 “I was thinking the same thing,” Marshall replied. “Then I dismissed it. They can’t actually attack another Triplanetary vessel, can they?”

 “If they’ve got control of the media, they can make up any story they like and make it stick. Claim it was an accident, that there was a mutiny on board, anything they want.” She looked up at him, and said, “You know already that they were willing to let us die at Hades. That’s why Frank Rogers is in the brig next door to Watson. Why not take this step for their glorious cause? In their eyes, we’re just another group of people dying for the Confederation.”