Battleship Indomitable

by B. V. Larson

  “You prefer to risk humans before Ruxins? That is a noble sentiment, Commodore. Perhaps too noble. Perhaps you fear that, with our superior race unleashed, yours will inevitably fall behind?”

  Straker laughed, a big, genuine roll of mirth as he held up a hand. “I’m not worried. Humans are spread across more than a thousand systems. If and when you surpass us I’ll probably be long dead—and I guess we’ll deserve it if we can’t keep up. But let me ask you: if we free Ruxin first, how am I supposed to inspire human systems to revolt?”

  “That is your area of expertise, as you have said.”

  “No, actually, it’s yours, Premier. That’s politics. Imagine our roles reversed. Would you think it wise if I were to demand the lone human system were freed before even one of a thousand Ruxin systems? Would that make sense?”

  Vuxana writhed gently in her chair. Eventually she focused on Zaxby and spoke to him in their language. They conversed for a few moments, and then she switched back to Earthan. “You have conceded this is a political decision?”

  Straker clenched his jaw. Was the squid queen going to screw him over? But she was young, and facing internal problems with the neuters. She must know he could stir them up more, but that would only hurt both sides. Was this a discussion in good faith, or was it brinksmanship, seeing who would blink first?

  He took a chance, believing he had the upper hand. Even if she stood her ground, he still had other leverage. “Yes. It’s a political decision where to attack first, though it could determine the course of our war.”

  “Then I have decided you are correct. You will liberate human systems first, in an effort to stir the fires of revolt across the Mutuality. My studies of the new databases has convinced me that their people are sick of war and corrupt oppression, and their political system is ripe for change. However, you will keep Ruxin in mind, and you will liberate our homeworld as soon as is practical.”

  Straker smiled. “I always intended that. Your people seem more naturally unified than mine, and highly technical. That will be quite useful.”

  Vuxana essayed a practiced smile with her rubbery mouth. “You humans are quite useful too.”

  “I’m not sure how to take that,” mumbled Loco.

  “You may take it to the bank, as your saying goes,” Zaxby said smugly. “When a Premier speaks, it is has the force of law.”

  Straker ignored the implications of that. Ruxin society was too complex for him to analyze or criticize. Even human societies were complicated enough to make his head hurt anyway, no matter how much history he read.

  “Good,” he said. “Now let’s talk about our immediate requirements and what we have to offer in return. First, we need a gigawatt fusion reactor, and the fuel to feed it.”

  “And we need a breeding population of mollusks so we can increase production to provide enough for all. My people clamor for them… and I like them too.”

  “I believe that’s a good start for negotiations.”

  Hours later, Straker left happier than he’d expected. In exchange for the snails, the new Premier had agreed to provide a large power reactor adapted to the Breakers’ technical specifications, as well as all the Ruxin unskilled labor Mayor Weinberg could use.

  She’d also accepted samples of blood taken from Straker, and from the three captured Hok Straker had in confinement. The warriors remained placid, for Zholin had ordered them to offer no resistance, but Straker was taking no chances until he was certain how their minds and their obedience conditioning worked.

  The blood contained the Hok biotech, of course. Straker had suggested it was worthy of study. If a way could be found to modify it to get rid of all unwanted side effects and leave only improved strength and faster healing, it might be quite useful for enhancing combat troops…

  As Vuxana’s Earthan was quite good, Straker also requested a private chat with her. They talked for over an hour.

  When the meeting had ended, Zaxby piloted the gig back to Freiheit.

  Loco finally spoke up. “What’s next boss? ‘Cause my mechsuit won’t fix itself.”

  “We have techs for that,” replied Straker. “You and me, we’re going to make ourselves a Pascal’s Wager.”

  “We’re getting religion?”

  Straker laughed. “Not exactly, but we’re going to make the Ritter brothers thank their gods for the day they met us.”

  “So… something with more upside than downside. More to be won than lost, right?”

  “Right.”

  “What’s to be won?” Loco asked.

  “A star system. The first of many, I hope.”

  “And to be lost?”

  Straker shrugged and stared past Loco out the crystal window of the gig. “Nothing but a few lives. Ours, mainly.”

  “I’m not so sure that’s a good wager, boss.”

  ***

  Engels sat in the conference room with her arms crossed, watching the rest as they debated.

  “This is a complex plan,” Aldrik Ritter said while pacing in front of the holo-scribbler. The display was made to allow quick and easy inputs using special gloves instead of manually through keyboards and controls. It was now filled with notations and crude diagrams showing star system locations and attack deployments. The flatplate next to it showed abundant text notations in the form of a draft operations order.

  “We don’t have the luxury of brute force,” Straker replied. “All the dominoes have to fall perfectly… but we do it right, fall they will.”

  “At least we’re all getting the brief,” Engels said darkly. She still wasn’t at all happy about being cut out of the network hack project, and was in a mood to punish Straker. In fairness, though, she felt much better after hearing about the new Ruxin ruler and the progress made there.

  Straker shot her a glance of longsuffering. Good. He should suffer a bit.

  He said, “It’ll soon be obvious we’re prepping for something big—as big as we can handle, if not bigger. That’s all right. The key is to keep the target secret, need-to-know limited to those in this room. You’ll notice,” he said heavily, giving Engels a flat stare, “that neither Zaxby nor Murdock are here. They get technical secrets, you get the operational ones.”

  Engels knew that was aimed directly at her. She grudgingly admitted he was right—admitted to herself anyway.

  She sipped her caff and gave him a shrug to know the discussion wasn’t settled, glancing around the room at those present: the two surviving Ritter brothers, Loco and Straker, Heiser and Gurung and Gibson. These now formed the inner circle on purely military matters. Zholin was obviously too new.

  Straker continued, “I see six days of preparation in our future, but we’ll cram it into only three with double shifts. The primary reward for hard work will be more hard work, but everyone will have plenty of downtime in sidespace. We have to move fast, to take advantage of our newest acquisition, the frigate Chun Wei.” He rapped on the table. “Get going.”

  Chapter 8

  Sachsen System, Frigate Chun Wei

  The frigate Chun Wei transitioned into the Sachsen star system. Updated information appeared on the main holoplate as the SAI processed sensor inputs.

  Captain Zholin commanded the ship, today wearing his Mutuality uniform. Commodore Straker stood alongside the smaller man, eyes roving over the screens.

  “Everything seems placid,” said Zholin, who was quicker than his boss to evaluate the results of his own ship’s scans. “I see two routine patrols of attack ships, one on each side of the system, hours away from us.” He turned to his sensor tech. “What’s the status of the orbital fortress?”

  “No indications of high alert,” the tech answered, “but we’re at extreme range.”

  There was only one fully operational battle station circling the main inhabited planet of Sachsen-3, and one more under construction. The system had been an independent associate of the Hundred Worlds for three centuries of settlement—until its conquest by the Mutuality three years ago.


  Straker had chosen Sachsen-3 as his first target. It lacked the usual multiple fortresses protecting most industrialized worlds, and according to the Ritter brothers, natives of Sachsen, the planet’s people were still restive and rebellious.

  “Good news,” said Straker. “They must not be concerned about our other, hidden inbound ships.”

  “That may change when they reach underspace detection range,” Zholin replied.

  “Speaking of underspace…”

  “Nothing on our own detectors, but that’s expected at this distance,” said the sensor tech. She’d had to brush up on how to operate the underspace sensor gear, having seldom used it since her initial training. Not surprising, as Archers had disappeared from the landscape of war for over eighty years.

  Until now, anyway. The surprise of using underspace was one reason Straker was pushing to begin liberating worlds right away, rather than building up forces for months or years. The other reason was that the loss of the Chun Wei might not yet have been reported to most of the thousand systems of the Mutuality. She was his Trojan Horse.

  “How long until we approach the fortress?”

  “Eight hours,” said Captain Zholin. “That’s assuming all goes well.”

  “Let’s not assume. Send our recording. Act natural.”

  Zholin nodded, and the man at the comms board hit the transmitter. Once that was taken care of, Zholin said, “Set course for Sachsen-3, all ahead standard, weapons secure. Remember, everyone, we’re now acting in unity with our Mutualist comrades.”

  If Straker weren’t familiar with Zholin by now, he’d have thought the humorless man was making a joke. Maybe he was overly concerned about proving his dedication to his new cause, the “Galactic Liberation.” That’s what people had taken to calling the movement, the overall organization including the Ruxins and their holdings, the Breakers, and Freiheit.

  And they’d begun calling Straker “Liberator.” He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but from his readings, movements tended to take on lives of their own. Instead of leading a tight group, he was beginning to feel as if he was riding herd on an organization extending further and further outward from himself.

  The holoplate showed the six planets of the system. Sachsen-1 was hot and rocky, Sachsen-2 hot and wet, barely habitable until terraformed. Sachsen-3 was within the Goldilocks zone for human life, but on the chilly side and moonless. Most of its population resided near the equators, and the poles became cold enough to form dry ice from atmospheric carbon dioxide during their winters. Sachsen-4 through 6 were small gas giants, each with an assortment of moons and paper-thin rings.

  Ships and bases appeared on the display as the computers processed the sensor inputs—miners, freighters, ore and fuel refining, all the facilities of an industrialized spacegoing society, scattered throughout the system. Straker examined them and grunted in satisfaction. “Everything looks good.”

  “It would look good if they were laying a trap, too,” said Loco.

  “Since when did you become our resident pessimist?”

  “Since I saw your plan, boss. But no worries. Like you said, we got nothin’ to lose but our lives. I never expected to make it to thirty.”

  Straker’s brow wrinkled. “You’re not thirty yet.”

  “Well, I guess I’m immortal until then.”

  “Put up the projections of our Archers,” said Straker after examining the holoplate for a time.

  Two icons appeared, lurking near asteroids in the belt beyond Sachsen-3. One was the Ruxin-crewed Revenge. The other was the corvette Liberator, newly fitted with underspace engines.

  “These are unconfirmed, of course,” said Zholin. “Assuming they arrived on time and are in position, they should be outside the usual underspace sensor range even if the enemy has detectors active.”

  Straker paced back and forth, his mind worrying at a situation that seemed to present itself exactly as he’d hoped for, trying to find some flaw or failing in his plan. As far as he could tell, the critical hurdle was getting his Trojan horse, Chun Wei, docked at the fortress without the enemy becoming suspicious.

  Fortunately, such asteroid-based fortresses comprised more than mere combat installations. They were full-service bases in space. They provided R&R for military personnel, including contracted entertainment, restaurants and bars, even shopping districts with luxury goods reserved for the more senior or well-connected Mutualists. Some contained secure transloading facilities for important civilian cargo as well.

  Of course, they also contained repair shops for warships with problems too small to need a full shipyard, and quartermaster facilities to resupply vessels with food, fuel ammo and other official consumables. Therefore, it was common to pull into port for a few days between combat cruises.

  In fact, Straker was depending on it.

  “Can we tell yet who else is docked? Ship classes, at least?” he asked.

  “No, we’re too far out, sir,” said Zholin.

  “Carry on, then.” Straker jerked his head at Loco, and the two exited the bridge.

  “You hate this part, don’t ya?” said Loco as they made their way toward the cargo hold.

  “Inbound from transit? Yeah. We’ve arrived, but not really.”

  “Would be more fun with Carla here, right?”

  Straker shrugged. “I couldn’t kick Zholin off his own frigate just because it’s the biggest ship we have. Liberator is Carla’s baby, anyway.”

  “And you’re not nervous about Liberator’s new underspace engines?”

  “They tested out fine. The Ruxins are meticulous, and Zaxby likes her. He was careful.” Straker said it lightly, but inside, he didn’t feel so confident. Retrofitting a corvette like Liberator with engines, field generators, and those weird metal-tentacle emitters wasn’t quite the same as building an Archer from the keel up.

  However, Carla had refused to consider staying behind on this op. Better she remain part of the backup plan than joining him at the tip of the sword, so to speak. Too, having underspace capability gave her little ship a lot more survivability. Hiding in that odd dimension could be a defense as well as a method of attack.

  Straker shuddered to think what might have happened had the Mutuality decided to pursue underspace tech themselves. Even though the Ruxins were careful never to let it fall into enemy hands, once their enemies knew its potential, they could have researched it.

  However, the Mutuality was apparently content to vigorously counter it—which also discouraged the Hundred Worlds from developing it too highly. After that, a tacit agreement seemed to prevail between the two empires, relegating underspace to the occasional covert operation.

  Fortunately, it was a nearly forgotten aspect of battle, and Straker wanted to keep it that way.

  From talking to Zholin, many of the smaller Mutuality ships didn’t even have working underspace detectors, as maintaining other functions took priority, and it was common to cannibalize parts even within one’s own craft. The capital units—cruisers and larger—got the best of everything, and the destroyers, frigates and corvettes took it in the shorts.

  This created a vicious cycle, as the most competent officers and crew fought for assignments aboard the best ships, and the best ships got the best supplies and maintenance. This left the dregs in the undermanned light units, except for a few conscientious souls like Zholin trying to stem the rot.

  Just one more reason they haven’t defeated the Hundred Worlds, despite a ten-to-one advantage in star systems, Straker mused. Bad management created a bad economy. Lack of opportunity for improvement stifled innovation and creativity, causing people to try to ‘work the system’ instead of actually perform work. Add in a heavy dose oppression and hypocrisy, and you got an empire held together by little but fear and bureaucracy.

  A corrupt empire ripe to fall. That’s what he kept telling himself every time he contemplated the horrendous odds against him.

  “I’m gonna catch some rack time if you don’t mind,�
� said Loco.

  Straker detected a slight leer on his best friend’s face. “With Sergeant Campos?”

  Loco grinned broadly. “Not my fault she got assigned to the Chun Wei. That was purely Carla’s decision.”

  “I hear you pointed out that the old autodoc on this ship needed a competent medical operator,” Straker replied.

  “So what if I did?”

  “So enjoy your ‘rack time.’ I’ll be at our quarters in exactly one hour. Make sure she’s gone so my arrival doesn’t embarrass her. I am the Liberator, after all.” Straker shared a stateroom with Loco, as the frigate was packed with infantry wearing Mutuality uniforms. Those were berthed in every available space throughout the ship.

  “Thanks, boss. One hour it is.” Loco hurried off.

  The luckiest troops were hot-bunking in real racks. The rest rolled out pads on the flight deck between or inside the small craft. They played cards, read vidbooks, watched showvids or checked their gear for the nth time. Their noncoms led them in rotations of physical training in a small cleared area of the cargo hold.

  And twice a day, they did verbal dry-runs of Straker’s plan, until everyone could recite it by heart.

  Straker walked through the spaces and passageways to show his face, receiving cheers and thumbs-up from men and women struggling to hide their pre-battle jitters. They knew the fight was approaching them exactly as fast as the frigate approached the fortress. He’d chosen his best people for this op, but he only had a few he could truly call battle-hardened.

  When Loco’s hour was up he knocked cautiously on his stateroom door, and then tried the handle. It opened to reveal one neat bunk and one rumpled. Straker threw himself into his, and sleep took him.

  He awoke to feel Loco shaking his foot. “Up and at ’em, boss. Time to do or die.”