Christopher Nuttall - Democracy's Right

“Aye, Captain,” the sensor officer said. “All sensors are operating at maximum capacity.”

Angelika smiled and leaned forward, counting down the seconds. If the enemy commanders refused to surrender in two minutes her ships would commence with a precision bombardment that would strip them of anything that could take the fight to her. If they had stealthed weapons platforms waiting to engage her, they would be forced to reveal themselves before they could be picked off and destroyed. She could afford to take her time. The rebels, quite literally, had nowhere to go.

Hannelore had never dressed so quickly in all of her life — she had left some of her underwear lying on the deck, so great was her hurry — yet Cordova still beat her to the bridge. Random Numbers was on full alert, with every station manned and the crew ready to fight — or run. Hannelore had been impressed with Cordova’s crew before — they acted more like professionals than anyone from a pirate band or even some of the other rebel ships — but now they were definitely showing their mettle. With nine battlecruisers bearing down on their position, there was no sign of panic or even healthy fear.

“Report,” Cordova ordered, as he took his command chair. He looked vaguely surprised to discover that Hannelore had followed him onto the bridge, yet he merely waved her to a spare chair and winked at her. “What is our status?”

“Under cloak, full stealth protocols are in effect,” the XO said. He sounded calm and focused. “They have not pinged us as far as we can tell; our drives and shields are stepped down, minimizing our turbulence. We should be effectively undetectable.”

“Let’s hope so,” Cordova growled. On the main display, the battlecruisers swept past where the heavy cruiser was drifting and advanced towards the asteroid. They seemed both implacable and very confident, as if they knew that they had all the time in the universe. Hannelore had no idea what defences had been put into place to defend the asteroid against the Imperial Navy, yet she doubted that the rebels could have installed enough to deter the battlecruisers from advancing. “We have to hold our position here and record everything.”

Hannelore looked up, surprised. “You mean… we’re not going to do anything to help?”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Cordova said, sadly. He looked angry and helpless, his fists clenched against an unreachable enemy. It was the first time, Hannelore realised, that she had seen him without the mask he used to cover his thoughts and feelings. “If we attempt to draw the battlecruisers away, they will either ignore us or dispatch one of their ships to chase us and leave the rest besieging Sanctuary. All we can do is watch and wait.”

“But…”

She broke off. She wanted to argue, to tell him that there had to be something they could do to save their cause. She hadn’t even realised how much it had become her cause until it was in mortal danger, yet… there was nothing they could do, apart from committing suicide on their behalf. The Imperial Navy had come to call and brought along enough firepower to render any defence irrelevant.

“Don’t worry,” Cordova said, as if he had read her mind. “This isn’t the only base. There are others and the Imperial Navy will never find them all.”

They weren’t supposed to be able to find this one either , Hannelore thought, sourly.

“They have not responded,” the communications officer said, as the timer ticked down to zero. “They didn’t even attempt to discuss terms.”

“We offered,” Angelika said. The asteroid’s population was either part of the rebel leadership or supporting the rebel leadership. The former would go in chains and be transported to Camelot; the latter would be sent to a penal world. It made perfect sense for the rebels to refuse to surrender, which opened up its own risks. They might believe that they could destroy their asteroid and take out hundreds of Imperial soldiers at the same time. “Prepare to close to engagement range.”

She smiled as the enemy defences, the pitifully weak defences they’d installed, came into range. “Target the enemy weapons platforms first,” she ordered. “You may fire at will.”

A second later, Violence launched her first salvo against the rebel base.

The command centre was filled with panic, Neil was disgusted to discover. The rebels hadn’t had a formal command structure for the base — it hadn’t been designed for permanent occupancy — and most of the workers worked for one group or another, rather than pledging themselves to a single force. Sanctuary had no real government or defence force. His Marines — and the recruits they’d been running through combat training — were the only defence the asteroid had.

“They’ve opened fire,” an operator shouted. Neil cursed his luck. In the Imperial Navy, an operator who started to panic while on duty would be summarily removed from duty and transferred to a posting where they couldn’t do so much harm. Even the well-connected would tend to be removed from their positions. “They’re firing on us!”

“Get a grip, man,” Neil snapped, using his best Drill Sergeant voice. It had an immediate effect. As he had thought — and prayed — the staff wanted someone to tell them what to do. “They’re not firing on the asteroid; they’re firing on the defence platforms. Unlock them and get them firing back, now!”

Most of the operators got to work, but one of them folded his arms and looked defiant. “Who are you,” he demanded, “to give us orders?”

Neil could have explained, pointing out that he had more active combat experience than everyone in the room, but he didn’t have the time. He settled for punching the speaker in the head and knocking him out, leaving his body to collapse on the floor. The remainder of the staff took one look and suddenly became a great deal more attentive, although Neil had to remind himself to watch his back. He wouldn’t put it past some of them to draw their weapons and shoot him in the back when they had the chance.

He keyed his personal communicator and linked into the private frequency used by high-ranking officers. “Mrs Hyman, we have to defend the asteroid,” he said. He had already considered all of the possible means of escape, only to conclude that there was no way out of the trap. The Imperial Navy could destroy any ship before it had a chance to power up the flicker drive and escape. Attacking into the teeth of such firepower would be suicide. Perhaps he could slip a handful of people out in a stealthed ship with powered down drives and weapons systems, yet even that was doubtful with so many sensors operating at full power. The Imperial Navy certainly wasn’t bothering to hide. “I need your permission to coordinate the defence.”

“Granted,” Hester said. Whatever else she was — and Neil still harboured a trace of the old disdain for those the Imperial Navy called terrorists — she was decisive. She would have made a good Marine if she had ever gone through the training centre. “Do whatever you have to do to secure the asteroid and defeat the invaders.”

Neil relaxed slightly. With Hester’s backing, the operators should do as they were told without any more backchat. He leaned over the main display — it had been designed by the Geeks and operated on a different scale than the ones he was familiar with — and scowled to himself. The Imperial Navy was easily swatting down the weapons platforms, while their probes swooped closer to the main asteroid, looking for future targets. It wouldn’t take long for the starships to turn their attention to boarding the asteroid and by then he had to be ready.