Elizabeth Moon - Once a Hero

“They know something’s wrong, but they don’t know where we are. It’ll take them awhile to do the checks and issue new ID tags. Hours, probably. In the meantime, they won’t even know how many of us there are. Vanter, Pormuk—” These were not their Fleet names, but their own. “You’ll get us new tags. Try to dispose of the bodies where it’ll take awhile to find them. Get the data wands, too. If you see any more of our people, sweep them up. Hoch, take two—three if you must—and get those contractors; we need to know where the self-destruct is, and be sure the captain can’t use it. The rest of you, come with me. We need weapons, especially as we’re shorthanded right now.”

“We come back here . . . ?”

“No. They have gardens on this ship, if you can believe it. Maybe more than one, but at the top of T-2, Decks 16 and 17. Lots of places to hide, and many ways in and out. There’s a big tree—you can’t mistake it—and an assault wall.”

“If we’re seen . . . ?”

“Capture or kill, and don’t capture more than you can handle on the move. They know they’ve got trouble; we’ll show them how much.” Low growls answered him; they liked this much better than pretending to be softbellied Fleet techs. “Go.”

Captain Hakin, wearing his own new ID tag, looked as grim as expected when he met with the other senior officers aboard. He had called them to the officers’ lounge nearest the bridge, where officers just going off or coming on duty met informally. Now the room was guarded by security personnel, their wary eyes watching everyone in sight.

“The Wraith crew members who came aboard as casualties from the forward compartments have not appeared for ID checks,” he said. “We have forwarded what little videoscan we have to Captain Seska aboard Wraith , and he is sure that at least eight of those were never his personnel. He is showing every image to his remaining crew, to check on the ones he said he wasn’t sure of. But we must assume that all twenty-five Wraith casualties who were not injured, and who were sent to work assignments by Chief Barrahide, are actually impostors. We do not know where they came from; I understand that Lieutenant Suiza had a notion that they might be Bloodhorde intruders. If so, this ship is in even more peril than we thought.”

“Any sign of a Bloodhorde ship?” asked Admiral Dossignal.

“No, Admiral. However, the situation with regard to our escort is . . . tenuous.”

“Tenuous?” asked Admiral Livadhi.

“Yes . . . Sting and Justice , as the admiral recalls, were assigned to patrol the same area as Wraith . Their captains insisted on returning to that patrol area, arguing that they could then guard the exit jump point there if the Bloodhorde tried to use it. That made sense, before we knew about the mine on Wraith ; they’d been long gone by the time we suspected that intruders had come aboard.”

“And our present escort?”

“Is useless if the intruders gain control of this ship—they could destroy Koskiusko , of course, if they were ordered to do so, but who is to give the order? I have made it clear to both captains that they should do precisely this, if they think the ship has been captured, but they have not yet agreed. Captain Plethys said he did not feel certain he could know that the ship had been irrevocably lost, even if he could not make positive identification of an officer on the crew list on a comlink. He argued that communications capacity might be interdicted by the intruders without their actually gaining control—”

“Which is quite possible,” Admiral Livadhi put in.

“Quite so. In fact, any type of signal which I tried to imagine could, in theory, be interdicted by the intruders before they gained control. Captain Martin agreed with Captain Plethys, and added that he did not wish to be responsible for the considerable destruction of life and materiel, even if the intruders did appear to control this ship. He argued that the rest of the wave will no doubt return to guard us, and offered his ship to go and explain the situation. I insisted that he stay, but I’m not sure he will.”

“You think he’ll desert us in the face of enemy attack? That’s treason!”

“There are no enemy ships on scan,” Livadhi pointed out, hands steepled. “And he knows he can do nothing about the intruders already aboard. He probably thinks that will clear him with a Board.”

“Not if I’m around to argue it,” Dossignal growled.

“I agree . . . but if I remember Captain Martin, and I believe this is the same Arlen Martin I once attempted to teach Military Justice to, he’s got a mind like an eel. Twisting and slithering away is his nature. I never did understand why he was given a ship.”

“So you think he’ll go,” Captain Hakin said.

“Probably. Certainly, if his scan techs can locate an enemy ship at a distance where he thinks we can’t . . . and then he’ll claim he didn’t know it was there. He doesn’t make mistakes, you see.”

Hakin looked even grimmer. “Then, sirs, I’m faced with a dilemma which you have probably already anticipated . . . when do I throw the switch?”

“The switch?”

Hakin sighed. “The admiral will recall that this ship, unlike vessels intended for combat, carries a self-destruct device and my orders are unequivocal. If I believe that the Koskiusko is in imminent danger of capture by a hostile force, I am to prevent such capture and appropriation by the enemy . . . by destroying the ship and—if necessary—her entire complement of personnel.”

“But . . . are you serious ?”

“Quite.” Hakin looked ten years older at the word. “We’ve talked about how useful this ship would be to the Bloodhorde—their own private shipyard capable of manufacturing two or three fully-armed cruisers just with the materiel in inventory, and with resupply of the most basic type, capable of building a battle group. Right now it’s full of the very people who know how to use it—some of whom, faced with torture or death, would cooperate with the Bloodhorde, at least long enough to train replacements.”

“Nobody would—!” began Livadhi.

“Begging the admiral’s pardon, but no military organization in the history of man has had zero failure rate in any system, including the human system. The recent action at Xavier—and for that matter Captain Martin—shows that Fleet is no exception. Besides, even if every person now aboard this vessel chose death, the Bloodhorde can hire civilians from all over the galaxy to operate what they can’t figure out.”

“But surely—we’re not at that point yet. There are only a few Bloodhorde aboard; security will no doubt pick them up in a few hours—”

“The point at which I should push the button is before the Bloodhorde have a chance to prevent it working. Do you think they haven’t assumed such a device exists? Do you think they’re not looking for it right now, disarming it if they’ve found it? They don’t want to lose this ship any more than we do—but the only way I can ensure that we don’t lose it is to destroy it.”

Dossignal looked at him compassionately. “You’re right, Captain, that’s a tough decision. Are you asking for advice?”

Hakin grimaced. “It’s my decision . . . my responsibility . . . but I’ll be glad to hear your ideas on choosing the right time. Only realize that I know the right time must be too soon rather than too late.”

“How do you test the device integrity?” asked Livadhi. “And what’s your normal test cycle?”

“It’s tested weekly, by partially arming the device—it has its own control board, with the usual sensor array and so on. I have a vidscan of it, so I can see the attached status lights, and I also have scan that reports whether the circuits are functioning correctly.”