Traitor's Duty (3 page)

 “At the very least,” Caine said, “Hades is a tool we can use in peace negotiations.”

 “We aren’t at war!” Pilsudski replied. “At least, we weren’t until we set off on this fool’s crusade. I’m with you, Captain. All the way to the Combined Chiefs, if that’s what’s needed.”

 “Walt,” Rogers said, “You’re talking gross insubordination. At best.”

 “If that stops this happening again to some other fleet, that’s fine by me. I didn’t join the service to be someone’s puppet.”

 “Our job is to defend the Confederation…,” Franklin began.

 “And we can’t do that by launching unprovoked attacks on our neighbors. I don’t even think we should wait, Marshall. We ought to head home now.”

 “No,” Gorski said. “I cannot countenance that. We must finish the job here.”

 “This is not a matter for debate!” Marshall said. “I remain the commander of this fleet, and the decision and the responsibility are mine, and mine alone. Is that understood?” There was a chorus of reluctant nods, and he continued, “I will contact the Cabal forces commander and attempt to organize a cease-fire. Failing that, we will neutralize them as a threat in this system, and then we will head home.”

 “And end our careers,” Dragomirov said.

 “Just one,” Marshall replied. “As I said, the responsibility for this lies with me.”

 “Optimist,” the pilot replied. “Not that I mind, though. It’s been a good run while it lasted.”

 “What exactly are you planning to do?” Gorski asked. “Walk up to Admiral Remek’s office, knock on her door, and ask her why you were sent on an illegal mission?”

 “It might be just that simple, but you’ve found the whole point of this. I believe that we have been operating on illegal orders, outside the chain of command. If that is the case, then it is our duty to try and fix that if we can.”

 “They’ll fight,” Cooper said. “They won’t yield. Not unless you surrender everything we’ve gained.”

 “Assets that, in the event of a war, we’re going to need,” Rogers said. He looked around the room, then said, “We might be stuck fighting a war. We can’t give up strategic advantages.”

 With a sigh, Marshall said, “Captain Rogers is quite correct, and so is Ensign Cooper. I’m very much afraid that we have another battle to fight in this system yet.” 

 “So what are we supposed to do?” Franklin asked.

 “Investigate,” Pilsudski said. “Go through our systems, try and find any more evidence, and start putting together a case to take to the JAG.” He looked at Marshall, and said, “You think there’s more to this, don’t you.”

 Cooper said, “The general feeling among the Espatier contingent is that we were being used as a sacrificial lamb. That we weren’t supposed to do anything other than, well, die gloriously and give the politicians back home a reason for war.”

 “That’s absurd,” Gorski said, though a trace of doubt was evident in his voice.

 “I hope you are right about that, Captain,” Marshall replied. “Nevertheless the possibility remains that there is more to this than just a few rogue officers out for glory. Admiral Pierce didn’t strike me as the sort of person who would co-ordinate this by himself, and Admiral Tramiel…”

 “I’ve known Jack Tramiel for years,” Cunningham said. “It doesn’t seem possible.” He glanced around, and said, “There must be more going on than we know about.”

 “Perhaps,” Caine said. “We’ve got to know, though.”

 Gorski shook his head, then said, “Excuse me, but this all sounds rather paranoid. Now you are suggesting some sort of vast conspiracy?”

 “I didn’t say…”

 “I don’t deny that this whole operation has been mishandled, but that doesn’t mean some shadowy…”

 “Cabal?” Caine interrupted.

 “Is behind it all.”

 “Can we rule that out?” Dragomirov asked. “They’ve run intelligence operations before. Perhaps they suborned Pierce, or sent him fake orders, or something like that.”

 “If their intelligence network is good enough that they can move fleets around as they want, then we’ve already lost the war,” Caine said.

 “Why am I here, sir?” Cooper asked.

 “Because I need an Espatier platoon,” Marshall replied. “I can’t strip the garrison on the station much, but…”

 “Why do we need an assault force?” Franklin asked, her eyebrow raised.

 “I don’t know,” Marshall said. “I do know that I’m not taking any chances. Cooper, put together a platoon, and feel free to pick the best. Volunteers only, though, and make it clear that there is a risk that it will adversely affect their careers.”

 “Can I tell them why?”

 “No.”

 “Pity. I’d get nothing but volunteers.”

 “If you told the troopers that,” Caine said, “We’d end up launching a full-scale assault on the Admiralty, and I’m not convinced that would help the situation.”

 “None of what I have said in this room is to leave it,” Marshall said. “That must be completely clear.”

 “Don’t worry,” Gorski said. “I have no intention of passing any of this on.”

 “Because you don’t believe a word of it,” Pilsudski said with a sneer.

 “Captain Marshall is at present my commanding officer, and I will follow his orders. I do not recall where in Fleet Regulations it tells me that I have to believe everything he tells me.”

 “Frank?” Marshall asked.

 “You’re the boss, Danny. Whatever you say goes, as far as I’m concerned.”

 “Right. I want the fleet ready for action, and ready to leave the system immediately upon the conclusion of that action. I will maintain my flag here in Wyvern for the moment.”

 “You’d be better off on Thermopylae,” Rogers said. 

 “Thanks, but I’m settled in now.”

 “If you change your mind…”

 “You’ll be the first to know. Dismissed.”

 The officers filed out of the room, talking quietly among themselves. Caine and Cunningham remained in their chairs, waiting for the rest to leave.

 “That went well,” Caine said, deadpan.

 “Pilsudski’s mad enough that he might just take off for home, Gorski and Franklin think you are crazy, and Rogers is sticking his head in the sand,” Cunningham summarized. “Cooper and Dragomirov will go along with you
for the ride
, what
ever
that’s worth.”

 “So at least you’ll have infantry support
and fighter escort
at your court-martial,” Caine added.

 “Good to know,” Marshall said with a smile. “And the two of you?”

 “If someone’s trying to start a war, we’ve got to stop them. I didn’t sign up to fight wars of territorial conquest,” Cunningham said. “It’s as simple as that.”

 “I agree,” Caine said. “Though I doubt it will be that simple.”

 “You know what I meant, damn it.”

 A chirp came from Marshall’s communicator, and he placed it by his ear, saying, “Marshall here. What’s up?” 

 “Bridge here, sir. We’ve got an aspect change from the Cabal forces in-system. They just placed themselves on an attack vector, sir. Intercept in four days, nine hours.”

 “Four days?” Caine asked. “Not top speed, then.”

 “Damage to propulsion systems?” Cunningham suggested. “But then, why attack?”

 “Good question,” Marshall said. “At least they’ve given us plenty of warning.”

 “Why do that, either? At least they could have tried to decoy us? This commander’s been smart enough so far, why change now?” Caine said. “There’s something missing here.”

 “Maybe,” Marshall said. “Though at least I know how to handle this part. Go get the commanders back in, Deadeye. We’d better start planning the battle.”

Chapter 3

 Orlova looked around the room, taking a sip from the champagne glass in her hand, trying to stick close to Harriet, her recently-acquired embedded journalist, and attempting to keep as low a profile as possible. Somehow, her unlikely colleague had managed to arrange invitations to one of the more exclusive parties taking place in Sagan City, one of a dozen arranged to allow the politicians to drum up support before the election from the movers and shakers of the Triplanetary Confederation.

 She felt sick, and it wasn’t the food.

 This wasn’t her job. She was meant to be out on one of the ships currently fighting for the future of the Confederation, not loitering around a cocktail lounge trying to overhear some gossip, some malevolent rumor that might be useful in their campaign to prevent the overthrow of the President. It didn’t help that she felt
a
target on her back; Margaret Orlova was wanted for treason, and while her forged identification had worked so far, it would never stand up to extensive testimony.

 “Excuse me,” a suave voice said. “I couldn’t help notice that you were over here by yourself. I can’t believe that someone could have stood you up.”

 She turned to see a man she vaguely recognized, one of the legion of press commentators gathering at such events. “I’m just taking a moment to decompress.”

 He smiled, and said, “Meaning that you’re trying to get over an argument with someone. If you want to make someone jealous, there’s plenty of room for two more on the dance floor.”

 “No thank you,” she replied. “Really, I just need a moment to myself.”

 Harriet walked over to her, and Orlova quickly kissed her on the lips, turning to the man before her surprise could show, and said, “As I said, I only needed a moment.”

 The man’s eyes darted from Orlova to Harriet, and with a smile and a quick bow, he headed off into the gathering in a bid to attract fresh game.

 “What the hell was that about?” Harriet asked. “My job is to tweeze out gossip, not provide it. You realize that we’ll be all over the networks by the morning.”

 “If they think I’m your lover, they probably won’t think I’m a spy.”

 “Never heard of Mata Hari?” she shook her head, then said, “Next time, ask first.”

 “Have you found out anything interesting?”

 “Senator Norman’s apparently on her third personal assistant of the year, and this one used to be a boxer. Whether he has any secretarial qualifications, I don’t know.”

 “I think we’re going to need more than that. Hell, even I knew that she was a man-eater, and I’ve spent most of the last three years several parsecs from here.”

 “Relax, Maggie. We’re getting quite a dossier built up.” She pointed over at the far side of the room to a tight tangle of gray-haired men, and said, “That’s an interesting little group right there. Senator Harper and his few remaining acolytes.”

 “He’s here? Damn.”

 “What’s wrong?”

 “We’ve got to get out of here now.”

 “Why?”

 “Harriet, he knows me. I don’t think he’s going to buy the cover story.”

 She glanced over at the Senator, evidently once too often. He moved away from his group, and started to pull something out of his pocket. Not waiting for him to call Security, Orlova began to move for the door, quietly at first, then without any attempt at deception. One of the bouncers, his finger on his ear, was moving to block the exit, but she quickly ducked past him, moving out onto the street, almost toppling over in her haste to leave.

 Ahead of her, a pair of guards waited, both of them wearing the uniform of the Sagan PD. She looked from left to right, but the pistols resting in their holsters and the lack of cover convinced her that she didn’t have anywhere to go. A police car pulled up, and she looked behind her to see the Senator walking down the steps, Harriet reluctantly on his arm.

 “Fancy meeting you here, Lieutenant.”

 Orlova looked across at the car, and saw a flash of green hair in the back seat. Suppressing a smile, she replied, “Bad pennies always turn up.”

 “Just get in the car,” one of the policemen said. “Both of you.”

 “I’ll ride along as well,” the Senator said. “I imagine you’ll want to interview me.”

 “If you don’t mind, Senator,” the other policeman said, glancing up at a security camera. “It will speed the whole process along.”

 “I’ve done nothing wrong!” Harriet said. “This is absurd!”

 Orlova shook her head, and replied, “I think we’ve lost this game. With a little luck we’ll have another chance later on.” She started to walk over to the car, and said, “Let’s get this over with.”

 As soon as the passenger door opened, her suspicions were confirmed, and she climbed in next to a beaming Kristin Harper, latterly of Alamo and Spitfire Station. The Senator sat opposite her, and Harriet, looking at the three of them in turn, paused at the door.

 “What the hell is going on?”

 “Get in,” the Senator said. “And quickly. We haven’t much time.” The door slammed shut, and the car began to speed down the street. He glanced out of the window, and said, “We’re heading for the nearest vehicular airlock. You’re damn lucky the Chief of Police is my old Operations Officer.”

 “This is a set-up.” Harriet looked at Orlova. “What is this?”

 “May I introduce Senior Spaceman…”

 “Technical Officer, Maggie. I’ve gone up in the world.”

 “Kristin Harper, the most insubordinate – and brilliant – hacker I’ve ever come across.”

 “Senator Harper’s daughter,” the journalist said with a smile. “I wondered where she’d gone. None of my sources would talk.”

 “She opted to follow her father into the fleet…,” the Senator began.

 “After it was made clear that it was a choice between one jail or another.”

 Looking at Orlova, Harriet said, “If nothing else – if nothing else – I’m getting an interview with her. That I can publish, and it’ll keep my editor at bay for a while. You realize I haven’t filed anything in a month? They’re beginning to forget I exist.”

 “We’ll talk later.”

 “Lieutenant,” the Senator said, “My daughter has given me as full a briefing as she can, and I have spoken with the President.”

 “Which one?”

 “Teddy.” He shook his head, then said, “The man is a fool.”

“You won’t get an argument from me, sir,” Orlova replied. “Kristin, how long have you been in-system?”

 “I jumped ship w
hen
Alamo headed out.”

 “Alamo’s left Sol? They got away?”

 “From here, anyway, though I don’t know what happened next. It took me two weeks to sneak back here, and longer to get in touch with Dad.”