Christopher Nuttall - Barbarians at the Gates

He felt no calmer when Midway finally slowed near Justinian’s fleet. It wasn’t a particularly large fleet, but it still possessed more than enough firepower to reduce Midway to atoms. Nine superdreadnaughts—two of them clearly damaged—five battlecruisers and twenty-seven smaller ships, surrounded by a cloud of starfighters. It wasn’t an insignificant force, not on the pre-war scale, but the Grand Fleet would destroy it in short order if it had the chance. Roman was mildly surprised that the admiral hadn’t insisted on meeting on or near Harmony itself—as they had anticipated—and had been preparing to argue that point when it had been rendered moot. He tried to tell himself that was a good thing.

“Hold us here,” he ordered. They were well within shuttle range, but at the absolute edge of missile range. It wasn’t a particularly trusting position, but then he wasn’t a particularly trusting man. He keyed his console. “Shuttlebay One, are you ready to fly?”

“Aye, sir,” the shuttlebay operator reported. “Captain—ah, Commodore—Bowery has been checked out on the shuttle, and is ready to launch.”

“Good,” Roman said. “Clear her for departure.”

He settled back in his command chair as the shuttle departed, heading towards one of the undamaged superdreadnaughts. One of his crew had suggested rigging an antimatter bomb in the shuttle and detonating it if negotiations broke down, but Admiral Drake had vetoed the suggestion, as that would be seen as an attack on Admiral Justinian under a flag of truce. Roman had accepted the rebuke with ill grace.

“Captain, she has reached the admiral’s ship,” the sensor officer reported.

Roman nodded.

“And now, we wait,” he said. He looked over at the tactical officer. “Keep us at condition-one. If they start moving to attack, I want to be out of here before they get into point-blank range.”

The squad of guards who met them at the shuttlebay were brisk, formal and very efficient. Caitlin and Henrietta were both strip-searched and scanned using the most advanced sensor technology, while the shuttle itself was practically dismantled by shuttle techs. Once their identities had been confirmed and the shuttle itself had been pronounced clean, they were escorted to the superdreadnaught’s flag bridge. The cry of astonishment from the admiral when he saw his daughter made everything worthwhile.

“I thought you were dead,” the admiral said, hugging his daughter tightly. “I thought…”

Caitlin wasn’t too surprised. He’d had years to regret sending his daughter to marry a stranger, in hopes of binding two warlords together. At least she was alive.

He gave Caitlin a hug as well, and then settled back in his command chair, all business.

“All right,” he said. “Admiral Drake’s message said that you were peace envoys. What do you have to say for yourself?

Caitlin had known Admiral Justinian for nearly twenty years. There was something in his voice that was odd. Soft…and dangerous.

“Admiral Drake is willing to offer you and your senior personnel, myself included, internal exile if you surrender without further bloodshed,” Caitlin told him. “Junior personnel will not be persecuted by the Federation.”

His face was completely expressionless. That was not a good sign.

“The same offer, in other words, that they made to Bester,” Admiral Justinian said. His voice was very cold. “The same offer they wantonly betrayed.”

He keyed his console and the report from Bester played. Colonel Scudder must have wanted to send a very clear message to the population, so he’d broadcast the executions live on every news and communications channel. An entire star system had seen the Federation not only go back on its sworn word, but slaughter small children who hadn’t committed treason.

Caitlin felt sick. Had Admiral Drake known about it? she asked herself. Had the Senate ordered it, against Drake’s wishes? There was no way for her to know.

“Surrender is not an option,” Admiral Justinian said.

Caitlin found it impossible to disagree, even though she’d given her parole. If Admiral Drake had lied to her…where did that leave her? She wrestled with her conscience for a long moment, trying to convince herself that she could rightfully break her sworn word. An oath breaker was owed no consideration by others, she told herself.

“Captain Garibaldi took me in,” Henrietta said. “He protected me at risk of his own life—and career…”

Justinian rounded on his daughter.

“I’m sure he’s a perfectly good man,” he snapped. “But the Senate ordered the deaths of everyone who surrendered on Bester! Why the hell should we surrender when all we face is certain death?”

He turned and met Caitlin’s eyes. “We will lose the coming battle,” he said, “but at least we will make them hurt.”

There was no time to say a word before the admiral keyed his console.

“All units, this is the admiral,” he said. “Open fire!”

There was very little warning. “Captain, they just locked active sensors onto our hull,” the sensor officer reported. “They’re…”

“Incoming fire,” the tactical officer snapped. “Multiple missile launches; I say again, multiple missile launches!”

“Helm, get us out of here,” Roman snapped, as Midway spun in space. There was little point in returning fire against the behemoths targeting the tiny cruiser, but they could still launch ECM drones that would confuse the incoming missiles. Or perhaps it wouldn’t. They were still broadcasting their IFF right across the system. “Launch countermeasures and cut the IFF!”

The math didn’t add up, he realized. They’d been at extreme range when the enemy opened fire, but they weren’t able to get away from it before the missiles struck home. Admiral Justinian had fired enough missiles to destroy the ship several times over.

“Bring up the point defense and engage as soon as the enemy missiles enter range,” he ordered. “Launch shipkillers as emergency counter-missile defenses.”

Midway shivered as she launched the shipkillers towards the enemy missiles. The bean-counters would complain loudly when they saw the cost, but he had a dark suspicion that their concerns were about to be rendered moot. The ship was humming around him as her drive built up power, yet it wasn’t going to be enough to escape. The point defense went to rapid fire as the missiles came closer and closer, winnowing their ranks, but too many of them were going to get through the defenses.

“Reroute all power to shields,” he ordered grimly. It risked overloading the shield generators and total collapse, but there was no other choice. “Signal Admiral Drake—do a complete dump. He has to know what happened here.”

They almost made it, but a handful of missiles entered terminal attack range and went to sprint mode. Four missiles struck Midway , one after the other, slamming the ship into an uncontrolled spin through space. A fifth slammed home a moment later and, just for a second, the artificial gravity flickered and reversed. Roman had a moment where he saw the ceiling coming up to meet him, and then the world went black…

The tactical officer looked up, sharply. “They fired on Midway !”

Marius stared, unable to believe his eyes. He’d sent Captain Bowery to Admiral Justinian with a fair offer—more than fair—and the man had opened fire. Why?

What was going through Justinian’s head? He had to know he couldn’t beat the Grand Fleet; hell, considering Justinian’s current position, he couldn’t even fall back to Harmony before the Grand Fleet entered missile range. The remains of his fleet were going to be crushed…it wasn’t as if Marius could show them mercy, not now.