Read Online Empire of Man 01 - March Upcountry by David Weber, John Ringo - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David Weber, John Ringo
Tags: Science-Fiction
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point four-three-eight seconds," Koberda announced morosely, consulting his toot as he kicked aside a capacitor.
"Thank you, thank you, ladies and gentlemen," Julian said, bowing and splitting the heap of chips into two equal piles. He slid one across to Andras, picked up his own, extracted a bundle of other chips large enough to choke a unicorn, and added the squad's offerings to the bundle. "Always a pleasure," he added, and headed for the next compartment.
Corporal Bosum looked around the compartment, trying to figure out where all the pieces of her weapon had gotten to.
"Does he do this often?" she asked sourly.
"Every chance we give him," Andras said. He picked up a capacitor ring and tossed it to her. "But sooner or later, he's gotta lose."
"Sergeant Julian to the Armor Bay," chimed the intercom. "Sergeant Julian to the Armor Bay."
"Oh, man," Koberda said. "That was Despreaux. Despreaux, Poertena, and Julian all in the same compartment! I'd rather be on the bridge!"
* * *
Roger tugged down the skirts of his safari jacket and flipped off an imaginary bit of fluff before nodding at the guard to trigger the hatch command. The guard waited patiently, then tapped the green square and stepped through the hatch to do an automatic sweep for hostiles. What the sweep turned up was a massive amount of tension.
Roger stepped over the now tape- and padding-covered control runs and crossed to the tac center. He took a stance with his feet shoulder-width apart and his hands behind his back, nodded coolly at Krasnitsky and Pahner, and then glanced at the rippling tactical display. His cool demeanor vanished abruptly, and his hand flew forward to point at the red icon in the hologram.
"Look! There's a—"
"We know, Your Highness," Pahner said stonily. "Another cruiser."
"It hasn't moved out yet," Krasnitsky said with a sigh. "It's probably warming up its pulse nodes because we haven't slowed down." He rubbed his stubbly jaw and sighed again. "The XO has been hailing the first one. It wants us to begin decelerating to prepare for boarding. It's claiming to be an imperial cruiser, HMS Freedom , but it's not. For one thing, the Freedom is a cruiser carrier, not a cruiser. For another, its captain has a Caravazan accent."
"Saints." Roger's mouth felt dry.
"Yes, Your Highness," Pahner said. He didn't comment on the obviousness of the conclusion. "Probably," he corrected. "Whoever they are, the worst-case scenario is Saints. So we assume it's them."
"But, Captain," the prince said, looking at Krasnitsky, "can your ship win against another cruiser?"
Krasnitsky looked around the bridge. Not a hair had twitched, but he knew better than to have that discussion in public.
"Perhaps we should step into the briefing room," he suggested.
Once the hatch had closed, he turned to the prince. "No, Your Highness. There is zero chance that we can survive taking on two cruisers. We're not a full-scale Line ship, just a heavily armed and armored transport. Were we at full strength, without damage, maybe. As it is, there's no chance."
"So what do we do?" Roger looked from Pahner to Krasnitsky. "We have to surrender, right?"
It was Pahner's turn to sigh. "That's . . . not really an option, Your Highness."
"Why ever not?" Roger asked. "I mean," he turned to the grim looking Fleet officer, "you're going to die if you don't!"
Pahner bit his tongue on a sharp rejoinder, but Krasnitsky simply nodded. "Yes, Your Highness, we will."
"But why?" Roger asked, his eyes wide in amazement. "I mean, I know it isn't the proper thing to surrender, but you can't run, and you can't win. So why not?"
"He can't risk their getting their hands on you, Your Highness," Pahner snapped finally.
"But . . ." Roger began, then stopped to think about it. He pulled his ponytail in frustration. "Why not? I mean, what could they do with . . . with me , for God's sake? I mean, I could understand if it was Mother, or John, or even Alexandra. But who the heck
"Thank you, thank you, ladies and gentlemen," Julian said, bowing and splitting the heap of chips into two equal piles. He slid one across to Andras, picked up his own, extracted a bundle of other chips large enough to choke a unicorn, and added the squad's offerings to the bundle. "Always a pleasure," he added, and headed for the next compartment.
Corporal Bosum looked around the compartment, trying to figure out where all the pieces of her weapon had gotten to.
"Does he do this often?" she asked sourly.
"Every chance we give him," Andras said. He picked up a capacitor ring and tossed it to her. "But sooner or later, he's gotta lose."
"Sergeant Julian to the Armor Bay," chimed the intercom. "Sergeant Julian to the Armor Bay."
"Oh, man," Koberda said. "That was Despreaux. Despreaux, Poertena, and Julian all in the same compartment! I'd rather be on the bridge!"
* * *
Roger tugged down the skirts of his safari jacket and flipped off an imaginary bit of fluff before nodding at the guard to trigger the hatch command. The guard waited patiently, then tapped the green square and stepped through the hatch to do an automatic sweep for hostiles. What the sweep turned up was a massive amount of tension.
Roger stepped over the now tape- and padding-covered control runs and crossed to the tac center. He took a stance with his feet shoulder-width apart and his hands behind his back, nodded coolly at Krasnitsky and Pahner, and then glanced at the rippling tactical display. His cool demeanor vanished abruptly, and his hand flew forward to point at the red icon in the hologram.
"Look! There's a—"
"We know, Your Highness," Pahner said stonily. "Another cruiser."
"It hasn't moved out yet," Krasnitsky said with a sigh. "It's probably warming up its pulse nodes because we haven't slowed down." He rubbed his stubbly jaw and sighed again. "The XO has been hailing the first one. It wants us to begin decelerating to prepare for boarding. It's claiming to be an imperial cruiser, HMS Freedom , but it's not. For one thing, the Freedom is a cruiser carrier, not a cruiser. For another, its captain has a Caravazan accent."
"Saints." Roger's mouth felt dry.
"Yes, Your Highness," Pahner said. He didn't comment on the obviousness of the conclusion. "Probably," he corrected. "Whoever they are, the worst-case scenario is Saints. So we assume it's them."
"But, Captain," the prince said, looking at Krasnitsky, "can your ship win against another cruiser?"
Krasnitsky looked around the bridge. Not a hair had twitched, but he knew better than to have that discussion in public.
"Perhaps we should step into the briefing room," he suggested.
Once the hatch had closed, he turned to the prince. "No, Your Highness. There is zero chance that we can survive taking on two cruisers. We're not a full-scale Line ship, just a heavily armed and armored transport. Were we at full strength, without damage, maybe. As it is, there's no chance."
"So what do we do?" Roger looked from Pahner to Krasnitsky. "We have to surrender, right?"
It was Pahner's turn to sigh. "That's . . . not really an option, Your Highness."
"Why ever not?" Roger asked. "I mean," he turned to the grim looking Fleet officer, "you're going to die if you don't!"
Pahner bit his tongue on a sharp rejoinder, but Krasnitsky simply nodded. "Yes, Your Highness, we will."
"But why?" Roger asked, his eyes wide in amazement. "I mean, I know it isn't the proper thing to surrender, but you can't run, and you can't win. So why not?"
"He can't risk their getting their hands on you, Your Highness," Pahner snapped finally.
"But . . ." Roger began, then stopped to think about it. He pulled his ponytail in frustration. "Why not? I mean, what could they do with . . . with me , for God's sake? I mean, I could understand if it was Mother, or John, or even Alexandra. But who the heck
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