Battlecruiser Alamo - 7 - Battlecruiser Alamo: Sacred Honor Read Online Free PDF Page A

Hercules.”
     Orlova made a chopping motion with her hand, and as Mathis silenced the channel, she turned to Wilson, “What’s the status of our fabricators?”
     “Lousy.”
     “I need uniforms for all of us. Cornucopia Mining jumpsuits.”
     Carpenter stared in disbelief, saying, “That’s the plan?”
     “Plan? I’m making this up as I go along.”
     “Beats surrendering,” Wilson said, rising from his station. “I’ll start working on the uniforms.”
     “Get the first batch up to the bridge. And try and make them look used.”
     “I’m not a fashion designer!” he protested, but he retreated from the bridge before Orlova could reply. Mathis looked over from his station.
     “We’re at NN 3737,” he said. “Four planets, one of them borderline-inhabitable, and that one has a station orbiting it. Looks like that’s where we ended up. According to the database, we’re looking at a repair facility for civilian ships.”
     “Not military, then?”
     Shaking his head, Mathis said, “Not according to the file.”
     “This might actually work,” Orlova said, and then the communicator crackled into life again.
     “Hercules, we have no knowledge of you or your crew, and no orders regarding your presence. Prepare to receive a boarding party.”
     “We’ll be there, Hydra, but get the rescue and repair teams on the move,” Orlova said. “This ship is on the verge of falling apart.”
     “Will do. Hydra out.”
     “Shuttle launch from the station,” Mathis reported. “They’ll be alongside in fifteen minutes.”
     “Right. That just gives us time to prepare. Nelyubov, I want a new crew roster and new personnel files for the whole crew.”
     “In fifteen minutes?” he said, shaking his head. “Can’t be done.”
     “Not if you waste time arguing . We’re all Cornucopia crewmen who have defected, and are now working for the Cabal in an auxiliary role.” Snapping her fingers, she said, “Somewhere in the records sent over from Alamo are the records of the crew of the scout we met at Spitfire Station.  Just change names and faces.”
     Shaking his head, he said, “This is going to be the botch-job to beat them all.”
     “Curry, you have the bridge. Do everything they tell you. Don’t ask questions, and if in doubt, refer them right to me. Carpenter, come with me.”
     “Where are we going?”
     “Hangar bay.”
     Turning from her station, Curry said, “You know that we’ll never get all evidence of the Fleet out of the ship before we dock.”
     “I do. Don’t worry,” Orlova said before the elevator doors closed, “I’ve got a plan.”
     Carpenter looked at her with relief, and said, “Good. Want to fill me in?”
     “Actually the plan is to make all this up as we go. Whatever they say, just back me up. Feel free to step in if I’m floundering.” She smiled, “Worst case, I guess we picked an unorthodox way to surrender.”
     The elevator slowly juddered down the levels, pausing for thought a few times before finally opening on the shuttle bay. The deck was a mess, tattered pieces of equipment scattered around, dust and debris drifting through the air, a half-rebuilt shuttle poised for action on one of the two working elevator airlocks. A few technicians were struggling into jumpsuits; Wilson tossed a bundle of clothes to the two officers.
     “Complements of the tailor, ma’am,” he said. “Two worn worksuits, officer grade.”
     “Just out of interest, what is my name today?” Carpenter said as she struggled into the outfit.
     Glancing at her datapad, Orlova replied, “Carpenter. I only changed my name because I’m in their records. You weren’t even in the fleet a few weeks ago.”
     “Do you actually think that this is going to work?”
     Tumbling around as she tugged at the sleeves, Orlova replied, “It might. By now the Senate will have cleaned house at Cornucopia, so their people are going to