William C. Dietz - McCades Bounty

McCade's Bounty: Copyright 1990 by William C. Dietz
All rights reserved.
ISBN10: 0-441-52303-X
ISBN13: 978-0-441-52303-0
First E-Reads publication: 2008
www.ereads.com
All persons, places and organizations in this bookexcept those clearly in the public domainare fictitious, and any resemblance that may seem to exist to actual persons, places or organizations living, dead or defunct is purely coincidental. These are works of fiction.

For Allison and Jessica,
with thanks
for their technical
advice and encouragement.

For the better part of two rotations the battle raged on and around the ice-world called Alice.

The pirates managed to destroy the planet's small navy during the first few minutes of battle.

Then, expecting an easy victory on the ground, they dropped into orbit. The force fields around their ships disappeared, as hundreds of assault craft spilled out and spiraled down toward the bluish white planet below.

It was a mistake, and one for which the invaders would pay dearly. Missiles rose from the planet's surface followed by man-made lightning. Caught with force fields down, two of the attacking ships were destroyed, and others were damaged.

Then, angered by the effrontery of their victims, the pirates unleashed a terrible fury. Mushroom-shaped clouds marched across the frozen landscape turning vast sections of ice and snow into superheated steam and radioactive glass.

But most of the important targets were located deep underground safe from the planet's harsh winters and pirate attacks. They survived and the battle continued.

The combatants had fought many times before and knew each other well.

On the one side there were the settlers, life-long losers most of them, driven, or drifting farther and farther from the center of the human empire until reaching its very edge. For Alice was a rim world, the last stop before the Il Ronnian Empire, and the great unknown.

Now the settlers eked out a precarious existence built more on hard work than the scarce resources of their planet. They were quirky, independent, and tough as hell when backed into a corner.

The pirates were as pirates have always been, the lowest common denominator, the link between animal and man. Once, years before, they'd been something better.

They were soldiers back in those days. Soldiers who fought valiantly for a cause they believed in. A confederation of planets, each represented in a star spanning democracy, each part of a greater whole.

But in spite of their heroic efforts to hold it together, the confederation had collapsed of its own weight, and given rise to the Empire.

The first Emperor was wise in his own way, and knowing he couldn't micro-manage each planet, he provided all of them with a measure of independence and full amnesty for the confederates.

Tired of war, and preferring order to anarchy, most of them agreed.

But some scorned the offer, choosing to fight a guerrilla war instead, waiting for the day when they would seize power and restore the confederacy. The day never came.

Time passed, and with it, the ideals they'd fought for. Raid followed raid, and death followed death, until the difference between "military" and "civilian" targets started to blur.

There were atrocities, each worse than those that went before, until minds grew weary and hearts became numb.

Now, many years later, they sought loot rather than liberty. Gradually, without realizing it, patriots became pirates and a cause disappeared.

The settlers' command center was deep underground. During the past two days it had survived attacks from air-to-ground missiles, smart bombs, and a flight of robotic subsurface torpedoes. They'd burrowed within one mile of the complex before they were detected and destroyed.

The C&C was large, lit mostly by flickering vid screens, and filled with the soft murmur of radio traffic. Smoke streaked the air, empty meal paks crunched underfoot, and a feeling of weary desperation pervaded the room.

Sara Bridger-McCade focused tired eyes on the surface of the tac tank. She hadn't slept for more than twenty-six hours and exhaustion had taken its toll.

Sara was beautiful, or had been once. Now a long white scar slashed down across her face. It was deathly white against her heat-flushed skin. A grim reminder of her first encounter with the pirates many years before.

Sara wore a plain gray jump suit, light body armor, and a blaster in a cross-draw holster.

Ignoring concerned stares from C&C staff she tried to concentrate. The tac tank was a swirl of color and movement. It was similar to a three-dimensional electronic chess board, in which the green deltas belonged to her, and the red squares to someone else.

But this was no game. These markers represented real flesh-and-blood people. Mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers. Friends of hers. They were dying and Sara couldn't stop it.

Some of the population would survive as slaves but most would die. It was the pirate way. Take what you want, destroy the rest. Sara peered into the tac tank and looked for an answer.

Hills and valleys were outlined with green contour lines and marked with elevations. Surface and subsurface installations showed up as yellow circles. Civilian domes and factories were light blue. All of it looked so neat and orderly without the sprawl of dead bodies, the stench of burned-out homes, and the cold-blue stutter of energy weapons.

Without ships to bring help, without FTL communication, the settlers had a single ally. The weather. Up above, on the planet's surface, a class-two storm raged. Nothing like an eight or, God forbid, a ten, but just enough to slow the pirates down. Sara had hoped for more, hoped the storm would defeat them in a way that she couldn't, but the pirates were well prepared.

They wore heatsuits, rode in armored crawlers, and knew what they were doing. Slowly but surely the red squares were pressing in, pushing the green deltas toward the underground command center, crushing anything that stood in their way.

Over there, about ten klicks short of Donovan's Rift, Riston's Rifles were still holding against a company of mechanized infantry. And there, just short of the main armory, Colonel Larkin was fighting one last battle.

But that was it, after two days of battle the pirates had come close to wiping the planet clean, and would soon be victorious.

Sara's vision blurred and she rubbed her eyes. Was there a way out? Something she'd missed? A weakness?

No, nothing. The knowledge lay heavy in her gut. The pirates would take Alice within hours. She'd failed. The battle was lost.

But why? Why such determination? Why so well equipped? Why Alice?

"Sara?" The voice was calm and gentle. She looked up to see a man and a woman standing on the other side of the tac tank.

There were five members of the planetary council. Sara, Colonel Larkin, presently defending the armory, Rico, off-planet with Sam, Professor Wendel, and Dr. Hannah Lewis.

Three qualifies as a quorum, Sara thought tiredly, though it hardly matters. There's nothing left to decide.

Professor Wendel smiled wearily. He was an elderly man with bright blue eyes and a white ponytail. "We did the best we could, child. Let's save what we can."

Sara looked at Hannah. She had an open face, beautiful brown skin, and a tight cap of kinky black hair. She had a diagnostic scanner strapped to her right arm and a stethoscope hung around her neck. There were bloodstains on her OR greens. The planet's main medical facility was a thousand yards down the main corridor.

"The professor's right, Sara. Release the remaining troops and let them slip into the bush. The pirates won't find them. Not on Alice they won't."