Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [226]
“As if they’ll believe that,” Stromo muttered.
Another barrage of blustering insults was transmitted back to him. In disgust, he gestured for the communications officer to cut off the audio. He scowled as the ships continued to fly away, despite his admonition. “Doesn’t that remind you of cockroaches scurrying when the lights are turned on, Commander Ramirez?”
The small vessels offered difficult moving targets that zigzagged between the outlying asteroids. Though the Mantas opened fire again, the weapons officers missed most of the time. This crew definitely needs a lot more training, the Admiral thought.
Too many of the unruly ships were getting away. Stromo shook his head, then nodded to the Manta’s captain. “Commander Ramirez, disperse all EDF ships, launch every Remora squadron. Let’s tighten our net. Rendezvous is officially ours.”
Chapter 116 — CESCA PERONI
Once she’d retired, Jhy Okiah had meant to live out the rest of her life on Rendezvous. Now Cesca was grabbing her sticklike arm. “Hurry, we’ve got to evacuate. Don’t bother taking any of those things. The Eddies wiped out Hurricane Depot—do you expect them to do less here?”
The old woman scowled, moving without urgency even as the EDF invaders encircled the asteroid cluster. Loud alarms sounded, and Roamers rushed down the tunnels, snatching up belongings and gathering family members. “How dare they attack Rendezvous? We are an independent people, and this is our formal seat of government. Who does that blowhard admiral think he is, issuing ultimatums?”
“He’s following orders—the Chairman’s orders.” Cesca once again regretted the ill-considered defiant stance the clan elders had chosen. “Since they can’t seem to defeat the hydrogues, they’ll take us as a consolation prize. The Admiral will claim a full victory, and the Big Goose will say they’ve subjugated us, squelched all resistance.”
“That is why we need to resist.” Jhy Okiah seemed much older now.
“We can’t resist unless we escape and survive. Look at the size of the Eddy battle group out there. We’ll have to resist in our own fashion. After we get away.”
The old woman finally gave in, picked only a few of her most precious keepsakes, and followed Cesca out into the corridors. Everyone on Rendezvous had practiced for this emergency at least a hundred times, and now Roamers scrambled in a barely organized panic toward the numerous launching bays. Every clan had a family ship for travel or cargo transport; they all had places where they could hide, far from Rendezvous.
Ship after ship flew away in outright defiance of the Admiral’s instructions. Other clan members used their best piloting skills to zoom through the obstacle course of rocks and battleships. Though they took no aggressive action and posed no threat to the EDF fleet, a few Roamer ships were destroyed. Cesca felt each explosion or bright flash of debris on the monitor screens as a deep personal loss. Casualties of war—a war the Roamers had never wanted.
And none of them wanted to be captured. The Roamers knew nothing about what had happened to the prisoners taken at Hurricane Depot. It was possible they were being held on a penal planet or had been put to work as slaves in Hansa industries. They’d probably been interrogated first, forced to divulge the coordinates of Rendezvous. No one knew—or underestimated—what Chairman Wenceslas might be capable of.
The Governess compy UR, in charge of teaching Roamer children, had activated her emergency protective programming and hustled her students into evacuation vessels. But the vessels were personnel transports, not blockade runners or speedy craft. Cesca didn’t think they could escape. Having seen the EDF open fire on the other fleeing vessels, the Speaker reached a difficult decision. “UR, you must take the children and surrender.”
“I can attempt to fly the craft through the EDF weapons,” said the Governess compy, but Cesca shook her head.
“I’m not risking all those children. Be their guardian.