He could see the expressions of his staff officers. They were uncomfortable, but he could tell he had them. One by one he could see the decision, the resolve in their faces.
“I am with you, sir.” Thomas was the first to speak up, an act of considerable courage. Once he had started it, the others joined in, one at a time, until everyone on the bridge had declared their allegiance.
Compton sighed softly. It was a good start, but he’d figured he could convince his own people. The rest of the command officers in the fleet would be more difficult.
“Sir, I have Admiral Harmon.” Thomas was looking nervously at Compton as he spoke.
Here we go, Compton thought. He considered Camille Harmon a good officer, honest and fair. The two hadn’t served long together, but they’d gotten along well enough. He nodded to Thomas, a signal to put the Admiral on the line. “Hello, Admiral Harmon. Calling to demand my surrender?”
There was an instant of silence, and Compton’s newfound calm briefly deserted him, replaced by a rush of adrenalin. Whatever Harmon said was going to set events in motion, probably very quickly. “Strange times, Admiral Compton. Strange times indeed.”
Damn her, thought Compton…I can’t read a thing from her voice.
“This puts me in a very difficult situation, Admiral Compton.”
Her voice was somber, but firm. Whatever she was going to say, Compton thought, she’s already decided.
“I find it almost inconceivable to disregard Admiral Garret’s order.”
Compton tensed, ready to spring into action. He was pretty sure he’d keep Bunker Hill – he knew Elizabeth would side with him. But if Harmon went against him he had no idea how the fleet would react. Expecting them to disobey Garret and the appointed admiral on the scene was a heavy load.
“However, I find it completely inconceivable to indiscriminately bombard civilian targets.” Her voice was decisive, though he could hear the sorrow in it. “I therefore will continue to acknowledge your command of the fleet, pending confirmation of Admiral Garret’s order.”
Compton exhaled, feeling some of the tension draining away. With Harmon on his side he was pretty sure he’d maintain control of the fleet. His relief, however, was short-lived.
The line was still open and on speaker a few seconds later when a loud noise came through, then another. It was hard to tell over the comlink, but it sounded like gunfire. The entire command staff on Bunker Hill gasped, heads snapping up, looking toward Compton. The next sound was a scream, followed by more shooting.
“Admiral Harmon, report.” Compton waited a few seconds then repeated himself. “Admiral Harmon? Report.”
Another ten or twenty seconds went by before a response came. When it did, it was a man’s voice, not Harmon’s. “Admiral Harmon has been shot, sir.”
Compton was stunned. “Report in detail.”
The response was delayed; the bridge of Harmon’s ship was in utter chaos. “Sir, the admiral is still alive, but she is unconscious. The Marines killed the shooter.”
Compton’s thoughts raced. Alliance Intelligence…it has to be. They got Harrigan on my ship, so why should I be surprised they got someone close to Camille? Harrigan would probably be shooting at me right now if he was still here.
“Sir, Captain Jantz is on the line.” Thomas’ voice was cracking and tentative. He was a veteran officer, but no one in the Alliance navy was prepared to handle an assassination attempt against an admiral on her bridge.
Great, Compton thought…Jantz is a martinent; I’m going to have a problem with him. Unfortunately, Jantz was also the senior captain in the fleet and the next in command after Harmon.
“Yes, Captain Jantz?” Compton snapped out his best command voice. It was as much for the benefit of the other officers listening in as it was for Jantz.
“Per Admiral Garret’s orders, I hereby demand your immediate surrender.” Jantz sounded just like Compton expected. He was sure Jantz practiced barking orders into the mirror when he shaved in the morning. “Please acknowledge your compliance immediately.”
“Captain Jantz, both Admiral Harmon and I concur that the order in question is suspect and cannot be obeyed.” Compton was speaking again to the other officers – he knew Jantz would never back down. “I therefore maintain command of the Second Fleet.”
Jantz cut the line to the flagship. A drama began and played out as the officers of the fleet chose their sides. Captains made their own decisions then tried to maintain control of their ships, sometimes successfully, sometimes not. Officers argued and debated, and on six vessels there was fighting before the issue was resolved.
When it was over, the shrunken Second Fleet remained on station at Columbia, with Admiral Compton in command. Captain Jantz led the rest, about a third of the original strength, and took position between Columbia and the YZ Ceti warp gate…out of immediate combat range, but close enough to be menacing.
For the moment, there was an uneasy peace in the system, but as long as Compton could maintain control of the bulk of the fleet, the rebels were safe from bombardment. How long that would last was anyone’s guess.
Chapter 23
The Sword of Ares bristled with might. The flagship of the Confederation’s navy was the pride of Martian technology and industry. She was brand new, the largest ship in space, vaster even than the Alliance’s Yorktown class monsters. Admiral Steven Wells sat in the control center of this behemoth, directing the operations of the largest fleet the Confederation had ever put into space.
The Alliance fleet that had been stationed here was gone; they’d transited the YZ Ceti Warp gate two weeks before. It had been a risk stationing the spy ships in the system, but Martian ECM was the very best, and the intel they provided was essential. Wells had his orders, and that was all he needed. Still, he wondered how the high command knew the Alliance ships would leave. They must have known - it was too much of a coincidence otherwise.
He’d have gone in against the Alliance fleet if he’d been ordered to, but he’d done the mental calculation in his head, and he wasn’t sure which way that would have gone. If they had a Garret or Compton leading those ships, he had serious doubts his fleet could have prevailed; against a lesser commander, he felt he had a good chance. It was immaterial anyway, since the Alliance force was gone. Wells didn’t know it, but his orders were coming from Roderick Vance, and Vance had no intention of sending him to attack a major Alliance fleet. The Confederation was playing a dangerous game – a necessary once, Vance felt – but it wasn’t about to provoke a major war. Not unless absolutely necessary.
There was a small flotilla still on station at Carson’s World, but all of the heavy ships were gone. Wells had already recorded his message, and now he sent it out, uncoded and in the clear. “Attention Alliance vessels. This is Admiral Steven Wells of the Martian Confederation.” He’d paused there, but listening now he became impatient with his own recording. “We are here to take control of this system and to hold it in trust for all of the people of Earth, Mars, and the colonies.” Another pause. “We have no wish to engage your forces, however we will defend ourselves if fired upon. We do not require that you surrender your vessels, only that you peacefully leave this system. Stevens out.”
It would be an hour before the message reached the small Alliance squadron, and another hour before a response could return to Wells’ ship. “Put the fleet on yellow alert.” The Alliance ships had no chance to defeat his massively superior forces, but he wasn’t about to get careless and suffer unnecessary casualties. His orders were not to fire unless fired upon, which greatly complicated his tactical options.
He couldn’t imagine the Alliance ships would put up a fight; it would be suicide. But he was worried about the ground forces. He didn’t know what the Alliance had down there waiting, dug into prepared positions. The transports with his fleet carried the cream of the Confederation assault troops, and he was worried they would have a fight on their hands. The ground forces were under the same orders as the fleet – fire only if fired upon. They would offer the Alliance troops repatriation, but they would fight back if attacked.