“No response,” the communications officer said. “I didn’t even pick up an automated reply.”
Colin sighed. Exchanging missile fire with an orbital fortress was always dangerous. The fortresses packed more firepower than a superdreadnaught, while there was a small but very real danger that one of the missiles would strike the planet at a reasonable percentage of the speed of light. It would be utterly disastrous for the planet, all the more so as neither side in the war could hope to organise relief efforts in time to save even a small percentage of the population.
“Illuminate the targeting locks,” he ordered. The enemy wouldn’t be able to miss that, even though it would also allow them to precisely target Colin’s ships. “And then prepare to fire.”
“Ira,” Bianca snapped, “why are you prepared to die? Honour before fucking reason?”
Ira stared at her, remembering long nights in their shared cabin. “What… what do you mean?”
Bianca’s lip curled with contempt. “Commodore Ugly fled the moment he realised that this planet was under threat,” she sneered. “Are you going to fight and die for the Empire, which abandoned you here, or are you going to do the smart thing and surrender?”
“We have a duty,” Ira protested, cursing their relationship. And, for that matter, just how close in rank they were. He didn’t have the gravitas of an older commanding officer and knew it. “We can’t just surrender…”
He shuddered, recalling some of the whispered tales that had reached their ears. The rebels were murderers, rapists and cannibals. Those who had been captured had been killed, those who had surrendered had been brutally raped and then killed… there was no shortage of horror stories. But she was right. If they stood and fought, the battle wouldn’t last very long at all. The superdreadnaughts were already targeting his hull openly. Twenty-seven superdreadnaughts could put out enough firepower to win the engagement very quickly.
“Please,” Bianca said. “You don’t deserve to die just because your superiors have abandoned you.”
Ira winced. His life wasn’t the only one at risk. He didn’t want Bianca to die, let alone any of the others on the station. They were his friends, even though he was their nominal commander. He didn’t want them to die uselessly…
He keyed the console. “This is Commander Dennison,” he said, shortly. “If I surrender, what terms are you prepared to offer?”
Colin checked the files before answering. Commander Dennison was young, barely twenty-five, although his file didn’t suggest strong aristocratic connections or patronage. Maybe he’d just been lucky; Fortress Command wasn’t as badly riddled with patronage as the Imperial Navy. But at that age… he shouldn’t have been in command at all. The file stated that Commodore Uzi should have been in command.
“A question first,” he said. “What happened to Commodore Uzi?”
There was no mistaking the disgust in the young man’s voice. “He left shortly after we received word of Camelot,” Dennison said. “We haven’t seen him since.”
Fled like a scalded cat, Colin translated, mentally.
He smiled, then pressed on. “Marines will board your station and secure the vital points,” he said. “If you wish to join us, you will be welcome. If not, you will have the option of being shipped to an internment camp or transferred back to the Empire at the earliest opportunity. Anyone on the ground who wishes to leave with us will be provided with transport; anyone who wishes to remain can do so. My rather strong advice would be to leave.”
There was a pause. Commander Dennison said nothing.
“One other point,” Colin added. “I expect you to keep your surrender. If there is any attempt to trick my forces, ambush them or otherwise impede them in the performance of their duties they have full authority to use lethal force.”
“I understand,” Dennison said. “We won’t offer any resistance.”
He looked down at his console, then tapped a switch. “Launch the Marine shuttles,” he ordered. “I want that station in our hands by the end of the hour.”
Ira felt butterflies in his stomach as the two shuttles disengaged from the mass of enemy warships and headed towards the station. He’d often asked himself, when he’d been a young trainee, just what he would do if faced with a hopeless situation. But all of his dreams of a noble last stand had left out the simple fact that he wouldn’t be alone. Bianca and all of the others were standing there with him — and they would die if the rebels destroyed the station.
He keyed his console, searching for appropriate words. His mouth felt dry; he had to swallow twice before he could speak. “I have surrendered the fortress to the rebels,” he said, shortly. Fortress Command was nowhere near as compartmentalised as the Imperial Navy. Even the lowest crewman knew that they were facing impossible odds. “They will be boarding us shortly. Everyone not on the command deck is to assemble in the lower shuttlebay, leaving weapons and anything that can be used as weapon behind.
“I have entered into the log,” he added, suiting actions to words, “that the decision to surrender was mine and mine alone. No action should be taken against any of you if you return to the Empire. The rebels have offered us a chance to choose where we go afterwards; I will not attempt to dictate your choice.”
He paused, searching for other words. “Don’t argue about this, please,” he concluded. “It isn’t just our lives at stake.”
His hand fell off the console, closing the channel. Bianca gave him a long look, then a faintly reassuring smile. Ira remembered all the horror stories and shivered, praying that he hadn’t made a dreadful mistake. One fourth of the crew was female. If the rumours were actually true, he might have condemned them to a fate worse than death.
On the display, the shuttles came closer and closer.
“All right, you apes,” Sergeant O’Neil snapped. “Remember what I told you — and don’t fuck up. I’ll kick the ass of anyone who fucks up, then the CO will discharge whatever’s left of you out an airlock. Do you understand me?”
Corporal Sidney Harris joined in the shouts of understanding. He’d grown up on a lawless asteroid in the Beyond, he’d killed his first man at the age of eight — and somehow the Sergeant still managed to intimidate him. But then, the Sergeant had taken all the new recruits into a large hall during their first training session and invited any of them who wanted to try and kick his ass to take their best shot. After four hulking bravos had been knocked down one by one, the new recruits had shut up and started to learn. Sidney had been lucky enough to be seen distinguishing himself when the imps had attacked Sanctuary Asteroid. It had earned him a promotion to Corporal and command of four privates.
He checked his assault rifle, then his armour, as the shuttle docked with the access hatch. It opened, allowing the Marines to flow into the station. Inside, it was deserted; the briefing had stated that the crew were currently in the shuttlebay, apart from two on the command deck. Sidney listened as the Sergeant barked orders, then followed him towards the command deck.
The interior of the station almost seemed eerie, compared to an asteroid that was over a hundred years old. Sidney had to snap at one of his men who seemed puzzled by the bare design, just before they reached the bridge. The hatch was already open, but the Marines advanced as if they expected an ambush. If the enemy were planning something, they wouldn’t risk allowing the Marines to access the command network before springing the trap.