Kennedy Hudner - Alarm of War

“Listen, Emily,” Grant began. “If we fall back to the Atlas, maybe we can re-arm and-”

“Merlin!” Emily called.

“Captain Tuttle?” the AI replied.

“Launch the Code Omega drone.”

“Order accepted.” A pause. “The Code Omega drone is launched.”

Emily looked at her two other captains. They stared back grimly. Perhaps a little defiantly? They knew what she was doing. “Launch your Code Omega drones, then power down and go as stealthy as you can and follow me. If we get separated, meet at-” She gave the coordinates. She cut the communications before either of them could object.

Emily sat back in her chair, careful not to let any of her inner turmoil show on her face.

A long minute later, Merlin reported: “Sensors reports Code Omega from both the Yorkshire and Kent . Do you wish to commence rescue operations?”

Emily took a deep breath and held herself in check. Do not shout at the computer, she told herself. “Merlin, what is the status of the minefield? How long to breach by the Dominions?”

“The minefield will be breached in approximately forty minutes,” Merlin said.

The New Zealand went to stealth conditions and moved slowly toward the inner edge of the minefield. Alex Rudd came to stand beside her. “Alex?” she asked softly. “Are the Yorkshire and Kent following us?”

“Yes, Emily,” he reassured her. “They’re close behind us.”

Thank God, she thought. Her hands trembled. She tucked them under her thighs and sat on them.

Further behind them, the Dominion ships resumed blasting their way through the minefield.

Emily wondered how Cookie was doing.

The Sensors Officer on the Dominion Vengeance turned to Admiral Mello. “Sir! The Victorian ships just launched their Omega drones. But they’re still alive, Admiral. Sensors caught a glimpse of them before they went into stealth mode.” The Sensors Officer looked bewildered. “Why would they do that?”

Mello grunted, stroking his chin. He nodded to himself. He admired this Victorian, whoever he was. “The Victorian admiral leading those ships just told us that they will fight to the death. They will not run away.” Then, mindful that his bridge crew was watching him, he smiled wolfishly.

“So, we’ll just have to kill them all, won’t we?”

On the Dominion Vengeance

Cookie dove for cover as a fusillade of flechettes pinged off the bulkhead just above her. The two Marines immediately in front jerked backwards, blood spurting in waves as their headless bodies crashed to the floor. Cookie snatched up their air guns and passed them back. “Give these to someone who only has a spear,” she told the private behind her. Gods of Our Mothers, what she would give for a powered battle suit. Armor. Weapons. Amplified sensors. Medical support mods. March right through the bastards and take the bridge in ten minutes. Kill ‘em all.

If wishes were horses , she thought ruefully, beggars would ride . She turned to the soldiers behind her, thirty or more, all armed with air guns, and all staring at her wide-eyed. “There’s only three or four of them in front of us. You, you and you-”she pointed. “Lay down suppressing fire. The rest of you run right at them. We are running out of time. Now move!”

Two minutes and five dead later, they moved another corridor closer to the Bridge. Off to their left and behind them, they could hear the steady tattoo of gun fire and the intermittent crackle of a heavy energy weapon. Cookie smiled ruefully. Using a heavy energy weapon inside the ship? We must have really pissed them off.

“Keep moving!” she told her soldiers. A private skidded around the corner, saw her and flopped down beside her, breathing heavily. “Sergeant, Master Sergeant Zamir told me to tell you that the second wave did not transport aboard.”

“What!” Cookie said, biting back a scream of frustration.

The runner nodded. “Master Sergeant thinks something must have gone wrong, but no more troops came through.”

Cookie’s mood swung between panic, anger and disbelief. “Where is the Master Sergeant?”

“Well, that’s the second part,” the private said. “The Ducks have some soldiers in powered armor. They’re somewhere behind us but moving up. Master Sergeant says we can’t stop them with the pop guns we have, so you have to take the bridge real quick. He says he’ll try to buy you some time, but that you need to, uh, well, he said you need to move your ass.”

Unbelievable, thought Cookie. She stood up. Somewhere in front of her was the Dominion Bridge.

On the Space Station Atlas, Hiram Brill’s assistant, Nina, approached him hesitantly. “Commander, this just came in from Sensors.”

Hiram was trying desperately to move more missile mines from the front of the Atlas to its rear, where the Dominion force was threatening them. “Can you handle it, Nina?” he asked distractedly, not taking his eyes off the hologram.

“Commander,” she began, and then stopped. He looked up in alarm; uncertainty was not one of Nina’s traits. “Hiram,” she said softly. “We’ve had four Code Omega drones. The Galway, Kent, New Zealand and Yorkshire . They’re all gone. I’m sorry.” She turned and left.

Hiram sat numbly in the chair, staring at nothing. In all of his life he had had only one real friend, and in all of his life he only loved one woman. Now they were both dead? He couldn’t understand it. Wouldn’t understand it.

“Nina!” he shouted. From across the room she looked up, startled and worried. “Send the data from the Omega drones to my console,” he told her. Dammit, they weren’t dead until he saw it with his own eyes.

On the battle bridge of the Vengeance, Captain Pattin leaned over to Admiral Mello. “I’m getting reports of enemy soldiers onboard. There is shooting around the mess desk and in some of the corridors.”

Mello looked at her, eyebrows raised. “How?”

Pattin shrugged. “They must have gotten close enough to land a shuttle on our hull and cut through. I don’t think there can be very many of them. I’ve alerted DSD and they’re hunting them down.”

Mello turned back to his battle display. A few men with guns were an annoyance, but not a threat. The Security Directorate thugs would hunt them down. The lucky ones would be killed; those not so fortunate would be captured. The Dominion Security Directorate had a certain, ah, reputation when it came to prisoners. Well, not his problem, was it?

He pointed to the display of the Dominion warships grinding their way through the Victorian minefield. “Won’t be long now.”

Two thousand miles behind the Vengeance , on the Dominion battleship Fortitude, there was a knock at Admiral Kaeser’s door. He took that as a good sign: if Captain Bauer were treating him as a prisoner, he would have just opened the door and come in. Knocking was a touch of civility, a sign of respect. It meant there was hope.

Admiral Kaeser opened the door personally, rather than simply barking “Come!” as was the general practice. “Come in, Captain,” he told Bauer, then ushered him to a chair. Bauer sat down, looking nervous and distracted, more nervous than he would have been just because he was visiting his admiral under house arrest.

“Perhaps you should tell me, Fritz,” Kaeser said.

“It’s Admiral Mello, sir,” Bauer said in a rush. “He’s lost another cruiser to a Vicky raid. His attack force is down to the Vengeance and four cruisers. I think he’s got enough force to break through the rest of the minefield, but if the Vicky ships return from the worm hole, Admiral Mello’s force will be overwhelmed.”