Jack Campbell - Leviathan

Geary called out orders sending his formation curving up and over for a second firing pass in case one of the dark ships was still a threat to Ambaru. But as the results of the engagement were evaluated by the sensors of the Alliance ships, it became clear that wouldn’t be necessary.

One dark battle cruiser was gone, replaced by a spreading cloud of debris. The second consisted only of its forward portion, tumbling off at an angle, which self-destructed while Geary watched.

The dark heavy cruiser still survived, but Rosen was leading her heavy cruisers at it. When her firing run was complete, nothing was left of the dark heavy cruiser but pieces of wreckage.

Desjani let out a cross between a whistle and sigh, pointing to her display.

Ambaru Station was only two light-seconds away, everyone on it apparently still oblivious to how close they had come to destruction.

“All units in Task Force Dancer,” Geary sent. “Well done. We’re going to brake our way around the star, so that when we’re back in the vicinity of Ambaru we’ll be able to match the station’s orbit easily. All destroyers are priority for fuel cell replenishment.”

“What are you going to do about Ambaru?” Desjani asked.

“It looks like we may have to invade it.”

The Marines came off the shuttle ramp in full combat mode, their battle armor sealed, their weapons active. They took up positions around the landing dock, scanning for threats. Behind them, the shuttle pulled away, making room for another shuttle also loaded with Marines.

Ambaru had a lot of docking stations. Right now, a dozen of those stations were receiving Marines who were equipped for battle and moving as if conducting an invasion of an enemy-held facility. General Carabali was aboard Dauntless , which had moved in close to Ambaru to oversee the assault.

“Admiral,” the Marine captain in charge of the force with Geary reported, “all we have in sight are two civilians, no weapons visible, broadcasting identification as station officials, dock supervision department.”

Geary studied the view from the captain’s battle armor. The two station officials, the sort who normally met incoming traffic, were staring at the Marines in shock. But despite their astonishment at being on the receiving end of an Alliance assault, both were smart enough to avoid doing anything rash. The two stood absolutely still, their arms extended to show empty hands.

The captain had waved forward two scouts, who scanned the surroundings outside the dock. “My scouts report all clear, Admiral. Just civilian pedestrians.”

“I’m on my way.” Geary, wearing only his working uniform, came down the ramp and nodded to the officials. “I’m sorry for this, but we don’t know what the situation is aboard this station. My ships have been unable to communicate with you.”

“Unable?” the senior official of the two asked, surprised. “There isn’t anything wrong with our comm systems.”

“Then you might explain why my ships kept getting an ‘incompatible message protocol’ response when we tried to talk to anyone on Ambaru,” Geary said.

The officials exchanged baffled glances. “We tried calling you on your inbound, Admiral,” the senior explained. “But our comm system said it couldn’t shake hands with yours. Are we… are we prisoners?”

“I hope not,” Geary said. “Where—”

His words were cut off as General Carabali called, her voice calm but authoritative. “Admiral, we have troop movements detected near shuttle docks seven, nine, and twelve. No specific data yet, just indications of troop presence in those areas.”

“What kind of troops?” Geary asked.

“Alliance ground forces.”

“Make sure your Marines hold fire until given authorization to shoot,” Geary said.

“Admiral?” The captain commanding this force of Marines sounded urgent enough to shift Geary’s attention instantly.

“What is it?”

“Our armor systems are fending off attempts at software upgrades,” the captain reported. “None of the updates are asking permission, just moving in and trying to apply themselves. If not for the firewalls we had added to our armor’s systems before boarding the shuttle, the new software would already be installing.”

“It’s all coming through official channels?” Geary asked.

“Yes, Admiral. All codes clear.”

“What are your suits replying?”

“Admiral, we’ve got the Potemkin-software routines running as a quarantined outer shell. Whoever sent the updates thinks they’ve successfully installed.”

Desjani had been listening in as well via Geary’s comm link. “Somebody tried to take out your Marines.”

“We have similar software upgrades being attempted on all Marine battle armor aboard Ambaru,” General Carabali reported. “All intrusions have been repelled but have mimicked successful intrusions to fool whoever sent in those upgrades.”

“Sir, our Potemkin routines are trying to disable our weapons and targeting systems,” the Marine captain with Geary reported.

“All ground forces detections on Marine battle armor have vanished from the Potemkin-sensor picture,” Carabali said.

“Same old game,” Desjani commented.

“But what are the ground forces seeing?” Geary wondered. “How is their armor reporting the Marines?” He looked outside the dock, seeing the area beyond now apparently deserted. “Someone has cut off this area from normal foot traffic.”

Geary checked his data pad, trying once again to access Ambaru’s internal comm net and once again finding all channels blocked to him.

He looked back at the two officials, who were still standing nervously, awaiting instructions. “I need your help.”

Both of the officials reacted with a mix of surprise and elation. “You need our help? Black Jack needs our help?”

“Yes.” Now wasn’t the time to express how much he disliked that nickname. “There are ground forces soldiers nearby. We don’t know what their armor’s sensors are telling them about our Marines. I need to talk to a ground forces officer. Not by comm link. Face-to-face. Will you go out there, locate someone, and tell them I need to talk to them? There may be some danger, but you two are the least likely to provoke any overreaction, and so are the most likely to succeed without any adverse events taking place. I give my word of honor for the personal safe conduct of whoever agrees to talk to me.”

Both officials nodded, their eagerness shadowed by obvious concern over the prospect of being caught in the middle of a firefight. “We’ll do our best, sir.”

Geary watched them walk slowly out into the now-deserted areas outside the docks, knowing that ground forces soldiers must have those areas targeted and hoping that the software messing with comms and armor sensors did not provide a misleadingly threatening image of the two officials that might lead someone to fire. “How does everything look?” he asked Carabali.

“They’re waiting,” she said. “I don’t know what for.”

“Orders?”

“If I were them, Admiral, and receiving commands to move against what looked in every way like fellow Alliance personnel, I would be asking for confirmation. Especially since my Marines are just holding position and not trying to advance.”

“Good. Keep your people in place and keep their fingers off their triggers.”

A single shot could trigger a major fight.

Between men and women who were on the same side.

After five very long minutes, a single figure in ground forces battle armor stepped into view of Geary. “Everyone hold,” Geary ordered the Marines. “Do not target that soldier, do not aim any weapons in the direction of that soldier.”