First Comes Duty (The Hope Island Chronicles Book 2) (33 page)

CHAPTER 50

Date: 23
^rd
March 322 ASC.

Position: Royal Navy fleet, in high Cimmerian orbit. 

Status: Alert stand down.    

Rear Admiral Jemima Barrington began her internal debate.
It’s not possible. The KC is invulnerable. Like the
Titanic
? Hmm. I voiced my concerns about her security to Grace, but he ignored me. What if Telford’s right? He’s a green kid on his first deployment. Steven thinks he’s exceptional. Ha, even if he considers him to be an albatross. Good instincts or not, he can’t know for sure. So, you do nothing?

The hatch chimed. “Ad-mit.”

Captain Fowler stepped into the room. “Latest diagnostics are all in the green. Again.” Tom examined her face. “Is something troubling you, Admiral?”

She rubbed at the point between her eyes that had recently begun to ache.

“Anything your flag captain can help with?”

“I have recently received a message suggesting that the KC has been compromised.”                   

He chuckled. “Really?”

“Yes, I know. It’s impossible. Right? Dash it, Tom, it’s probably a mistake, but can we take the chance?”

“I suppose if someone cries wolf, it has to be true eventually. I’ll check it out if you wish. Err on the side of caution, as it were.”

“I’ll join you,” Barrington said.

On the bridge of the HMS
Tudor
Rose
, at alert stand down, most posts were unoccupied.

“Comm officer,” Fowler said, “have we had any comm traffic from the KC today?”

“The KC, Captain? No, Sir.” He paused for a moment. “Although she’s two hours overdue for her regular check-in.”

Fowler stared at Barrington for long seconds. She nodded.

“Tactical officer, run a scan on the KC. Passive only.”

“Aye, Sir.” A half minute passed. “Captain, I can’t get much on passive, but I’m detecting increased power emissions.”

“Shields?”

“Still inactive. Hmmm, I suppose the increase in power could be her shunting power to her shield buffers. But if that’s the case, she should have informed us of the exercise.”

Barrington nodded.

“Comm officer, inform task force to assume Alert Condition Two.”

Within minutes, personnel began taking up their posts. By the time all stations reported ready, Barrington had donned her V-suit and armor.

“Captain,” the T-O shouted, “the KC’s shields have just gone up.”

“Action stations. Comm, signal to fleet: full defensive posture. No offensive weapons.”

“What now?” Tom whispered to her. “We can’t fight that thing.”

“So we will make a tactical withdrawal.”

“You mean run.”

“As fast as we can.” Barrington rubbed her chin. “Comm, send to all civilian vessels: withdraw to far side of the planet. Do so with the greatest urgency. This is not a drill.”

“Christ almighty,” the T-O said. “The KC is rolling over.”

“Captain, Commodore Roussel wishes a moment.”

“Put it through to the Admiral.”

“Barrington.”

“My tactical officer tells me—”

“Yes, Commodore, the KC has gone rogue.”

“My God.” He paused. “Admiral, the stands ready to assist.”

“Good. I need you to cover the civvies. Get them to safety on the far side of the planet. We’ll do all we can to stop any ordnance getting through, but it’s almost certain that some will get past us.”

“ will stand between them and the civilian ships.”

“Thank you, Commodore. Barrington out.”

“She’s completed rollover. All of her weapons are active.”

“Comm, put me through to Captain Cowdry,” Fowler snapped.

“She’s painted us,” the T-O shouted.

“Grimshaw, get a grip on yourself.”

“Sorry, Sir.”

“I’ve been trying, Captain,” the comm said. “The KC is not responding.”

Barrington checked her plot. Her fleet of five squadrons consisted of five battleships, five battle cruisers, five heavy cruisers and ten destroyers. They were all in their assigned slots, but she doubted if it would be enough. In order to keep her weapons package at maximum, her fleet had to stay bow-on to the attack. Unable to employ her main engines, she had to rely on her maneuvering thrusters. Even if she burned them out, it would take precious time to clear the KC’s attack envelope. She tried not to think about how many of her ships, how many of her people, would fall to the coming onslaught.

“KC has fired a full salvo.” Grimshaw’s mouth silently counted. “Four thousand torpedoes inbound. A mixed bag of high-yield nukes, pulsar heads and decoys. Impact in fifty seconds … mark.”

“Weapons officer, confirm launch package.”       

“Captain, all tubes loaded with high-yield nukes. Proximity triggers on all warheads. Ready to fire at your command.”

“Fire,” Fowler ordered.

“Helm,” Barrington said, “time to clear the KC’s torpedo envelope?”

“Sixteen minutes at current speed, Admiral.”

Now we’re for it.

CHAPTER 51

Date: 23
^rd
March 322 ASC.

Position: Athenian embassy, Cimmeria.  

Status:  Uneasy.   

The eastern sky lightened as dawn approached. From the embassy’s balcony, Nathan stared into the still-darkened sky to the west. Multiple explosions lit up the darkness, akin to a macabre fireworks display. With every colorful flash, people died.
How much more of this can the Brets take? Did Barrington heed my warning?

“Those poor bastards must be taking a dreadful pasting,” Ritchie said.

“Hmm.”

Nathan could no longer bear witness to the dreadful spectacle. He slumped onto the lounge and touched the side of the coffee urn. Still hot. Nathan rested his coffee mug on the table, rubbed at his bump while trying to work the problem.

Who were the attackers? What were their motives? Would additional enemy ships arrive? What battle tactics could counter the KC monster turned loose?

Nathan addressed them in order.

Who? Only Pruessen would be so bold.

Motives? Hmm, a tough one. Even if they captured the planet, they could not hope to hold it for long. A massive commerce raiding party? Intel indicated that Pruessen’s reserves of trephine crystals were running low. A simple smash and grab exercise? Perhaps the Talgarno warships were captured. All the better to disguise Pruessen’s involvement in this attack.

Additional enemy ships? Possibly. Although with the KC in their hands, would they need backup? Escorts, perhaps, for captured bulk carriers?

Tactics against the King Charles? Nathan drew a blank. Except for a notion that resembled more crazed fantasy than sound tactics.
Perhaps today is the right day to throw the tactical book out the window.

Walking to his quarters, he lay on his bed and began his deep breathing exercise. In a meditative state, he ran the facts, possible strategies, arguments and counter-arguments over and over again though his mind. At the end, only one conclusion made the slightest sense.
It’s crazy
. Nathan thought back over his studies of ancient history and how the most hopeless dilemmas were often resolved by people considered, at the time, to be insane.   

An hour later, he stepped into the embassy’s comm room.

Lizzy Griegs leaned back in her chair and smiled. “Two visits in the one day, Nathan. Could my luck be changing?” She noted his stern expression. “You’re going to get me fired, Nathan. I know all this is hush, hush, heavy security, but—”

“The King Charles Battle Platform is in enemy hands. They have fired on Admiral Barrington’s picket. I believe this to be a prelude to a full-scale invasion of Cimmeria.”

Lizzy’s jaw sagged open. She pulled herself together with remarkable aplomb. “What do you need?”

***

“You know this is crazy, right?” Lucky said.

“I never said it wasn’t.” Nathan continued to tear his footlocker apart. Finally he found the harness. Strapping it on, he retrieved his knives and slid them into the scabbards attached to the webbing. His bow stood to one side. He had just managed to squeeze his V-suit and helmet into a backpack. 

“It’s a good thing Insolent sent down our gear before she left,” Carpov said.

Nathan offered a token “Hmm” as he strapped his sidearm onto his left hip.

He stood for some time, contemplating his operation.
This is nuts, will probably get us all killed, and may make no difference in the end.
Yet it was not in Nathan’s nature to sit and do nothing. Doing something, regardless of its relative sanity, would always be preferable. So many strands of his hastily conceived strategy could unravel. 

Everyone assembled in the foyer, fidgeting with last-minute adjustments to their equipment.

“May I have your attention, please,” Nathan said. “I want to state, again, that you are all taking a dreadful chance by joining me. Think about it. You could be court martialed for what you’re about to do.”

“And you,” Doc Ning added.

“I’d just like to say that I think this whole plan is seriously loopy,” Lucky said. “But if you think it has a chance of making a difference, then I’m with you.”

“And I,” CC said.

“And I,” added Ritchie.

“Might as well count me in,” Doc Ning said. “Let’s hope my medical expertise won’t be needed.”

Nathan nodded, resisting the urge to gulp down his embarrassment. “Well then, we’d better get moving.” Around a wry smile he added, “We have promises to keep and miles to go before we get into more deep shit than we could imagine.”

The group stopped at the embassy’s foyer.

“We move fast, into the ground car and out to the spaceport. No stopping for anything. Got it?”

“Aye-aye, Sir.”

Nathan swung the heavy front door open. Captain Haynes blocked the exit, his sidearm in hand. A dressing covered most of his forehead, and his right ear was heavily bandaged.

“Back up, outlanders,” he shouted.

“Do as he says.” 

Haynes glanced over his shoulder as he closed the door. The guard captain holstered his sidearm. “I need to speak with you, Telford.” He ran his eyes over the other Athenians. “Alone.”

Lucky cupped his hand around his right ear. “What’s that, Captain?”

Haynes darkened. Nathan shook his head, nodded to Haynes and together they walked to an adjoining room.

“I have been ordered, by King Everett in person, to place you under arrest.”

“Any charges, or is he making this up as he goes?”

“Indefinite detention, pending a hearing. A long, long hearing. It’s as good as a death sentence for an outlander.”

“I will resist any attempt to take me from this embassy, Captain.”

He snorted. “Yes, I thought you’d say that. However, I am bound by my oath to my sovereign to obey his commands. There is no way around my duty. As a man of duty, you understand my position?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then, under the authority granted to me by his most Royal Majesty King Everett the First, I place you under arrest. I order you to accompany me to the palace.”

Wanna bet
.

“Unless,” Haynes added with a wily smile, “you overpower me and escape.”

Nathan was caught speechless for a moment. “Why are you doing this, Captain?”

“Telford, you bested me twice in battle, and on each occasion you spared my life. You know why I’m doing this. It’s the honorable thing to do. Wouldn’t you say?”

Nathan smiled at his former enemy. “Did you bring backup?”

“No, but there are crowds outside. I had to make it look real. You understand?”

Nathan nodded. 

Haynes braced himself. “So, overpower me. You could use a heavy bar to knock me out. Or perhaps a—”

Nathan shot Haynes in the chest. As he fell, Nathan grabbed him by his jacket and eased him to the stone floor.

He stepped back into the foyer. “This is a jail break, so act accordingly.”

“Huh?” Lucky said.

“Everyone follow me. And act as if you’re in danger.”

“Act?” Ritchie asked.

“Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 52

Date: 23
^rd
March 322 ASC.

Position: Royal Navy fleet, in high Cimmerian orbit. 

Status: Action stations. 

On the bridge of HMS
Tudor Rose
, a thin veil of smoke lingered in the air. Captain Thomas Fowler glanced up as Barrington stifled a sneeze.

“We’ve cleared the King Charles’ torpedo envelope, Captain,” the helm officer reported. “We are now hidden on the far side of the planet.”

“Very well, helm,” Fowler said, “maintain position.”

As the helm officer acknowledged, he joined the admiral, who had her console tied into the damage control and tactical analysis readouts.

“It could have been worse,” he said.

“Six ships, Tom, six of my command lost. Nine thousand lives extinguished because I couldn’t anticipate the danger.”

“No one could anticipate the impossible,” he whispered. “At least the civvies were spared the assault.”

“But all of those lives were my responsibility, Tom.”

“Stop it, Jemima,” Tom snapped. “Despite your concerns, you were repeatedly told that nothing could breach the KC’s security. Well, someone managed that little trick, so you have nothing to reproach yourself for. This disaster is on Grace, not you.”

She nodded, her face cast in misery. “On the plus side, things would have been far worse if young Telford hadn’t given us a warning.”

“Yes, I’d be interested to know how he did that.”

“Me too.”

“Oh, speaking of Telford, we received another message from him. Would you care to hear it?”

Barrington nodded. “I wonder what that young firebrand has up his sleeve this time.”

CHAPTER 53

Inexperience is what makes a young man do what an older man says is impossible.
Herbert V. Prochnow (b. 1897) US writer. Saturday Evening Post (1948).

Date: 23
^rd
March 322 ASC.