Kennedy Hudner - Alarm of War

“Grab as much ammo as you can,” she told her soldiers. “Follow me.” Then they simply walked into the Command Control Center of the largest battleship in the Dominion Space Fleet.

On her battle display, Emily could see all four of the Duck cruisers slowly circling the area near the breach in the minefield.

“Active sensors, Captain,” Chief Friedman reported. “They know we’re here and they’re trying to find us.” But finding them would be hard. The New Zealand, Kent and Yorkshire were all powered down, hiding behind the innermost layer of the minefield. There was so much clutter that Emily was confident they were invisible… until they started up their drives. Then they would look like candles in a dark room.

“Merlin! Time to arrival of the Dominion battleship?” she asked.

“Approximately seven minutes,” the computer replied.

Emily nodded. “Merlin, please switch to Max.”

There was a pause, then: “Who shall I attack?” Max growled.

“Chief Gibson, send a fast courier drone to Atlas telling them what we’re doing. Also, leave a reconnaissance drone behind so that it can report how things come out.” One corner of Emily’s mind marveled at the practical simplicity of that order. They’d all be dead, of course, but at least the recon drone could report.

Chief Gibson took a deep breath. “Yes, Captain.”

Emily fretted, unconsciously stroking the bump on her nose. Was there anything she was forgetting? She sighed inwardly. It wouldn’t matter soon.

On the Vengeance, Admiral Mello watched the battle display coming in from the cruisers. The enemy ships were out there, but they couldn’t find them. No matter, there were only three of them and they had to be low on missiles, had to be beat up from the previous fighting. He would push through them and head for Atlas, no more than sixty minutes away.

And the great Victorian empire would die by his hand.

He looked up in consternation at the noise just outside the CCC, then the grenade concussion slapped him off his chair onto the floor. Smoke and debris filled the air for a long moment, but he was conscious of screaming and shouts, followed by the sewing machine sibilance of flechette guns on full automatic. With an effort, he struggled to his feet. Captain Pattin was sitting on the floor, feebly pressing her hand to a gash across her forehead and scalp, red blood spilling through her fingers to stain her tunic. Then he heard a voice in a language he recognized as English, but he didn’t know what it meant.

“I want one alive to show us the controls! Keep one alive!”

Admiral Mello frowned in anger. Where were the Dominion Security Directorate guards? They should have been here!

On board the Dominion Ship Fortitude, Admiral Kaeser had been trying to hail the Vengeance , but no one replied. He turned to the Sensors Officer.

“On my authority, override the Vengeance’s control room camera and set it to ‘Admiral’s Discretionary Monitor.’” The Sensors Officer nodded and rapidly typed in commands. The main communications screen went blank, flickered, then the CCC of the Vengeance was on the screen. Smoke filled the room and figures darted through the picture. A harsh voice rang out and Admiral Kaeser, a student of English since grammar school, felt a chill run through his spine.

“I want one alive to show us the controls! Keep one alive!”

Then the firing began, and the crew on the Fortitude watched in raw disbelief as the bridge crew of the Vengeance was massacred before their eyes.

“Full military speed!” Admiral Kaeser ordered. “Tell the DSD to gear up and report to the shuttle bay. The Vengeance has been seized by enemy troops and we are going to take it back!”

And then he watched in revulsion as a giant, blood-splattered Vicky Royal Marine walked up to Admiral Mello, the Grand Admiral of the Dominion Fleet, and thrust a spear all the way through his chest.

Cookie stepped into the Command Control Center, her fellow Marines crowding beside her. A dozen astonished faces looked back her. She held up a hand.

“I want one alive to show us the controls!” she ordered. “Keep one alive!” Then she lowered the assault rifle, picked her target — a woman with captain’s braids on her shoulders — and opened fire.

When the firing stopped a few seconds later, only two Dominions were still alive: one was a trembling young man standing next to the sensors console, and the other was a hard-looking older man who had been shielded by a large console. He stood up, glaring, and Cookie saw for the first time that he was a very senior officer, probably the admiral. Good. She raised her rifle to shoot, but stopped at movement from the corner of her eye.

Private Otto Wisnioswski swiftly stepped forward, snarled something under his breath and violently thrust his spear into the chest of the Dominion officer. The Admiral screamed, head thrown back, and Wisnioswski thrust harder, the point of the spear emerging bloodily from the man’s back. Then Wisnioswski kicked the body off the shaft of his spear and turned to Cookie.

“Now what?” he rumbled.

Cookie took a deep, exuberant breath. Gods of Our Mothers! She could hardly believe it; they had taken the bridge of an enemy battleship!

Now they had to stop the ship.

“Meyer! Albert Meyer!” she called out.

“Right here, Sergeant,” Meyer said from just behind her.

“Good.” She pointed to the young Dominion soldier standing near a console. “Who is this guy?”

Meyer asked him, speaking with surprising gentleness. The young man hesitated, then blurted out two sentences. “His name is Karl Kappel. He is the junior officer in the sensors section.” Kappel muttered something, pointing to one of the bodies lying on the deck. “The First Sensors Officer is dead,” Meyer said blandly.

“Ask him where the dark matter brake control is. Tell him that if he doesn’t tell us, I am going to give him to Wisnioswski.” Beside her, Wisnioswski grinned and hefted his spear. Blood dripped from the point. The young Dominion swallowed hard and went pale.

Meyer asked him. Kappel pointed to one of the other consoles.

“Show us,” Cookie ordered.

Evidently no translation was needed, for Kappel walked over to a console near the Admiral’s chair and pointed to a large red button. He talked briefly, then cast his eyes down and fell silent.

“That button will activate an emergency stop,” Meyer explained. He listened as Kappel said something else. “He says there is a control for slowing the ship more slowly, but he doesn’t know where it is. Apparently you hit the button and it brings the ship to an emergency stop.”

Cookie nodded. “Everybody hang onto something!” she shouted. “Full DMB stop in ten seconds!”

Men and women scurried to find something to hold. A few just sank to the deck and curled up, protecting their heads. Karl Kappel looked at them in alarm, then dropped to the deck and held onto a console.

One of the Marines guarding the entrance to the bridge called: “Hey, Sarge! Better hurry it up, the armored Ducks are almost here!”

Cookie punched the button.

On the command deck of the H.M.S. New Zealand , Emily Tuttle closed her eyes and let out a long breath. Soon now, soon it would be over. There would be no more time for doubt, for fretting, for self-recrimination. She would be shed of the responsibility that hunched her shoulders and plagued her dreams.

She felt…not happy, but relieved. Free.

What was that old phrase? “ Iacta alea est .” The die is cast. She chuckled ruefully; those old Romans certainly understood war…and the people who fight them. Well, she had one more order to give, then it would be done.