Christopher Nuttall - Democracy's Right

Gently, he picked her up when they were both naked and carried her over to the bed, laying her down and kissing her before mounting her body. Hannelore felt his hand slide between her legs, stimulating her just before he slid deep inside her, his lips coming up to meet hers. She cried out, clutching him to her, and then all thought was forgotten, lost in the pleasure roaring through them both.

Hannelore was, at first, unaware of where she was or what she had been doing. The lights in the room were dim, reminding her of too many adventures as a young girl, when she’d been experimenting with her peers and ending up in too many strange beds. The noise that had awoken her echoed again and she sat up, memory coming back in a sudden flash. She was in Cordova’s cabin, on the Random Numbers , and she’d just had sex with him. She giggled as Cordova turned over — his back, too, was covered with scars — and sat up, reaching for the communications terminal. He hoped he had the sense to only use the vocal function, although, if the truth were told, she didn’t much care if his crew got an eyeful. She felt sore, but good.

“Captain,” a voice said, “we are holding position as per your orders. Do you wish to commence the drill now?”

Cordova looked vaguely guilty, even though the speaker couldn’t see him. Hannelore had to cover her mouth to stop another fit of the giggles. She had wondered how he would treat her in the morning afterwards — if it actually was morning — and now she would probably never find out. Her mother had told her that that was the true clue to a man’s character, but for men like Cordova, duty always came first. Or perhaps not; he had delayed the drill for his own gratification, after all.

“Not yet,” Cordova ordered. “I want the gunnery crews to work on their deployments and the engineering crews to work out what we need from Fabricator . We may as well try to upgrade the ship before Colin returns with the superdreadnaughts.”

The terminal clicked off and Cordova turned to look at her. Hannelore didn’t manage to prevent the giggles this time and, a moment later, he joined her. He had a deep throaty laugh. She reached out and ran her hand down one of the scars, feeling it against her fingertips. It didn’t feel pleasant.

“What happened?” She asked. Had someone tortured him in the past? “Why…?”

“I’ll tell you one day,” Cordova said. His hand came up and caught hers, bringing it to his lips. “It’s a long and complicated story and I wish to do it full justice.”

His other hand reached out for one of her breasts and stroked it gently. “And you’re unmarked,” he mused. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

Hannelore wasn’t certain how to answer, but the howl of the alarm saved her. Cordova let go of her at once and dived for the terminal. “This is the Captain,” he said, sharply. “Report!”

“Captain, we have a full squadron of battlecruisers dropping in on us,” the XO snapped. Hannelore felt her blood run cold. “They’re heading right towards Sanctuary! They’ve found us, sir.”

“Launch probes,” Angelika ordered, as her stomach settled after the jump. “Get me a tactical analysis of the system!”

The rebel base — assuming that they’d been given the right coordinates — was located in orbit around a red dwarf, a star that the Empire would consider worthless. The system itself had been briefly surveyed by the Survey Service, catalogued and abandoned, having been rated as not suitable for exploitation. The rebels, having fewer needs to support, had moved into the system and set up home amid its asteroid fields. They would have to ship in fuel as the system had no gas giant, but that wouldn’t be a problem. There was no shortage of gas giants in the Beyond.

“I am picking up low-level drive emissions from the target cluster,” the tactical officer reported. The battlecruisers were heading right into the asteroid field, something that would only be alarming to a person with no knowledge of space. She could have flown the entire Imperial Navy through the asteroid field and never risked ramming an asteroid with one of her ships. It required real incompetence or deliberate malice to crash a ship into an asteroid. “I suspect the presence of at least nine starships, perhaps more. They are trying to escape, Captain.”

“Anyone would think that they had something to hide,” Angelika said, wryly. She had suspected that they’d been sold a bundle of junk by Imperial Intelligence — it wouldn’t the first time that the Imperial Navy had been sent on a wild goose chase — but it was clear that there was something in the system. Whatever it was, it was big and unregistered, which made it illegal by definition. Even if they were attacking an asteroid base belonging to a group that had nothing to do with the rebellion, Public Information would turn it into a successful strike against a rebel base. “Can you zero in on the target asteroid?”

The display tightened up as the probes zoomed closer, sending their readings back to their mothership. The asteroid was odd, shaped rather like a club, yet it was clear that there was something powerful inside, for it was radiating all kinds of emissions. An impact crater towards the rear of the asteroid was the most powerful source, suggesting that it held the spaceport and that the rebels were trying to flee before the might of the Imperial Navy.

Angelika tightened her lips as the battlecruisers spread out. If they had wanted to destroy the asteroid, they could do it before anyone had a chance to escape. A single salvo of missiles would crack the asteroid like an egg and throw its inhabitants into the unforgiving vacuum. She would have preferred that solution — the longer she played with them, the more time the rebels would have to think of a way to defy her — but Admiral Percival’s orders had been clear. The rebel leadership was to be dragged back to Camelot for a show trial and then execution. Angelika would have argued, but Percival’s aide had pointed out another factor. If they merely blew up the asteroid, they would never know who they’d actually killed — if indeed they’d killed anyone.

“Open a channel,” she ordered. Even rebels, traitors and pirates would keep a listening watch on the universal emergency channel. “Attention rebels; this is the Imperial Navy. We are advancing on your asteroid and you do not have the firepower to repel us. I advise you to disarm your weapons and await the arrival of Imperial troops, who will take you into custody. Any starship attempting to leave the asteroid will be fired on without further warning. You have three minutes to respond.”

She drew a finger across her throat, ordering the communications officer to cut the channel. “Bring up full active sensors and paint that asteroid with everything we have,” she ordered, as she settled back into her chair. “I want to have everything on the surface pinned down before we enter weapons range.” She looked over at the tactical officer. “If any starships disengage from the asteroid, you are authorised to fire at will.”

“Aye, Captain,” the tactical officer said. His hands danced over his console, selecting shipkiller missiles and priming them for action. Angelika suspected that at least some of the rebels would be considering trying to flicker out from where they were docked; perhaps even from inside the asteroid itself, but only a complete lunatic — or someone with nothing to lose — would risk such a stunt. She smiled, humourlessly. The rebels had nothing to lose. “Nine more starships have started to power up their drives.”

“Continue broadcasting my demand for their surrender,” Angelika ordered, as new icons flickered into existence on the display. The asteroid wasn’t entirely toothless, unless they were trying to bluff her into retreating; they had rock-mounted weapons and even a handful of remotely-controlled automated weapons platforms. Given that she’d worried about the possibility of a repeat encounter with the rebel superdreadnaughts, or perhaps even a stolen orbital fortress, it was something of a relief to see that the defences were so puny. “Tighten up our sensor locks and prepare to take out all of their weapons. I do not want them to have even the slightest chance of being able to harm our troops.”