The Long Road Home (A Learning Experience Book 4)

by Christopher Nuttall

  Understanding crashed down on Elton as the pieces finally fell into place. Dear God, he thought. That’s what this is all about. That’s what they were aiming at, all along. They want the ship!

  Chapter Eighteen

  Does it actually matter?

  Yes, we won a victory. BUT ... that victory was won through surprise, long enemy supply lines, and advanced technology. The Tokomak were operating right at the limits of their logistics chain. Any half-way competent post-battle analysis would tell them so. I’m sure, once they stop panicking, that they will come up with all sorts of reasons to dismiss the threat we pose. There is no reason to assume that they will immediately decree a final solution and bend their every effort to carrying it out.

  -Solar Datanet, Political Forum (Grand Alliance Thoughts).

  “They want the ship,” Captain Yasser said.

  Rebecca sucked in her breath. “Are you sure?”

  The captain paced the conference room, looking grim. “Yes,” he said. “Everything they’ve done, everything they told us ... it was intended to get their hands on our technology. I suspect they wanted to dicker with you, but when you refused to hand over the tech they decided to provoke an incident and just take it.”

  “They’d be breaking galactic norms,” Rebecca said, honestly shocked. “Captain ...”

  “They can tell the Galactics that we killed their people,” the captain said, bluntly. “And the other Galactics will accept it, because it’s what they will want to believe.”

  “They may have had this in mind all along,” Lieutenant Jayne Fisher said. “Captain ... Madam Ambassador ... how do we know there was a coup?”

  “They told us,” Rebecca said. She broke off. “They told us.”

  “Precisely,” Jayne said. “We have no independent verification that the Harmonies actually had a coup. All we know is what they told us - and they might have lied.”

  Rebecca swallowed, hard. It was difficult to look Jayne Fisher in the eye - the woman had butchered her face with cybernetic implants - but she forced herself to meet the younger girl’s gaze. She couldn't be serious, could she? No one could plan and carry out such a deception and expect it to work ... could they?

  “If that’s true,” she started. She caught herself. “Do you have any proof?”

  Jayne gazed back, evenly. “We have no independent sources within the kingdom, nothing to tell us what is actually going on,” she said. “Given what we’ve learned about their society, planning and launching a coup without being detected seems impossible. There’s no way they just started mass surveillance of everyone unlucky enough to live on their homeworld, Madam Ambassador. Their system has been in place for centuries.

  “We know that they have been fortifying the gravity points between Harmony and Hudson,” she added, after a moment. “We also know that such actions should have brought down the wrath of the Tokomak, but - as far as we know - no hammer has actually descended. Does that mean, for example, that the Tokomak actually approved the fortifications? And do we actually know that the gravity point chains leading to Tokomak space are actually fortified?”

  She looked at the captain. “If I were the Galactics, sir, I’d do everything in my power to get my hands on human-grade technology,” she insisted. “And we obligingly sent them a whole starship to capture and take apart to see how it works.”

  “That would mean war,” Rebecca said.

  “We’re already at war, Madam Ambassador,” the captain said, harshly. “A Phony War, perhaps, but a war none the less. If the Harmonies are actually still allied with the Tokomak ...”

  Rebecca cursed under her breath. That made sense, too much sense. In hindsight ... perhaps they should have suspected they were being played. It had been a con trick - and, like any other con trick, it had worked because they’d wanted to believe what they were being told.

  She looked at the captain. “And they’re not going to let us go, are they?”

  “I doubt it,” the captain said. “They take us and the freighters, then ship Odyssey off to somewhere isolated for dismantling while dumping us on an isolated world ... if they’re feeling merciful. It's a bit more likely that they’ll dispose of us in a matter recycler. We didn't manage to send a message back once we entered the fortified zone, so they might be able to convince Sol that we vanished somewhere in deep space ...”

  He shook his head. “We weren't expected back for at least two years,” he added. “Even Hudson Base wasn't expecting to see us for less than six months. By the time Sol realises we’re gone, everything will have been nicely smoothed over and no one will have the slightest idea what happened to us.”

  Rebecca closed her eyes in pain. Captain Yasser was right. Sol would never know for sure what had happened to Odyssey and her crew. Or, perhaps, the Harmonies would present the Solar Union with a narrative suggesting that Odyssey had deserved her fate. Even if the Solar Union refused to believe it, the other Galactics would take it as an excuse to do nothing. And waging war this far from Sol would be impossible. The Harmonies might get away with it.

  She opened her eyes, forcing herself to remain calm. “Can we get out of the trap?”

  “We’ll have to find out,” the captain said. He sounded grim - grim and determined. “We’re not going to surrender Odyssey to them.”

  Of course not, Rebecca thought. The standard POW conventions, laid down by the Tokomak, probably didn't apply in this case. She had no doubt that the Harmonies would do everything in their power to ensure that no one ever found out what they’d done. Better to risk everything on a single throw of the dice than to surrender meekly.

  “Good luck, then,” she said. “Good luck to us all.”

  The captain’s lips twitched into something that might - charitably - have been called a smile.

  “Thank you,” he said, dryly. “We’re going to need it.”

  Rebecca nodded. “Where do you want us?”

  “I want you to talk to them,” the captain said. “Stall them as long as possible. Dig up every precedent you can remember to delay any attempt to seize the ship. I know ... they’re not likely to listen to you for long. Just try to keep them talking.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Rebecca said. “You do realise” - she swallowed, again - “you do realise they’re unlikely to pretend to take me seriously any longer?”

  “Do your best,” the captain said. “Going by their original ultimatum, there are only five minutes left before they open fire.”

  “Oh,” Rebecca said.

  “So talk fast,” the captain added.

  ***

  There could be no question, Elton knew as he returned to the bridge, of surrendering his ship to the enemy. Quite apart from the simple fact that his crew would be killed, just to keep them from popping up later, he couldn't let the Galactics get an insight into humanity’s technological advantage. Two years of duplication and mass production would prove, once again, that God was on the side of the big guns. Humanity would advance too, but not enough to stave off the massed enemy fleets.

  “The ambassador is talking to the enemy,” Lieutenant Williams reported. “So far, they appear to be talking back.”

  Elton nodded. “Let’s hope she can string them along for a few hours,” he said, although he knew that was unlikely. There were few inconvenient witnesses in the system, something that - in hindsight - ought to have alerted them ahead of time. “Tactical?”

  “I’ve completed the analysis,” Callaway said. “But getting us and the freighters out of here is going to be tricky.”

  “I know,” Elton said. “Mr. XO?”

  “The freighter crews are ready,” Biscoe said. “But they don’t know what to do.”

  “Tell them to stand by,” Elton said.

  He forced himself to think. Their one advantage was that the orbital fortresses couldn't risk firing antimatter-tipped missiles towards Odyssey, if only because they would run the risk of hitting the planet. The warheads probably couldn't crack the forcefields pro
tecting the PDCs, but they’d wreak inconceivable devastation on the rest of the planet. And yet ... the moment Odyssey moved out of orbit, it was going to be open season. It was probably too much to hope that one fortress would accidentally blast another.

  We might make it out, if we deploy all of our technological surprises, he thought. Odyssey might not be a cruiser or a battleship, but she did have some surprises hidden within her hull. And yet, where do we go from there?

  He glanced at the live feed from the long-range drones. The system’s gravity points were heavily fortified. Even if they managed to jump through without being blown to atoms, they’d materialise within the gunsights of a second set of fortresses. An idea nagged at the back of his mind, but refused to solidify into something useful. Odyssey would have to head for interstellar space, assuming they managed to get away from the planet. The more he considered it, the more he realised just how badly they were trapped. They’d be running a gauntlet of enemy fortresses, all shooting from point-blank range.

  “Captain,” Biscoe said. He spoke through his implants, using a private channel. “We could threaten the planet.”

  It was a mark of Elton’s desperation that he found himself considering it for longer than a few seconds. Threatening to commit mass slaughter - if not genocide - would not only get him hauled in front of a court martial, it would get him hurled in front of a firing squad. The Galactics could threaten extermination, if they wished. The Solar Union liked to think it was a little more civilised. And yet, would it work ...?

  They don’t give a damn about their civilians, he thought, numbly. And everyone who matters on the planet is hidden under a forcefield. The remainder ... don’t count.

  “No,” he said, flatly. “We won’t take that step.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Biscoe said.

  “I’ve plotted out several possible paths through the fortresses,” Callaway said. “But they all expose us to some fire.”

  “We’ll just have to minimise the risk,” Elton said. He knew there was no way it could be negated completely. Some of the fortresses were clearly not on alert, but the Harmonies would have plenty of time to flash-wake their systems before Odyssey passed within firing range. Unless, of course ... “Are they sending ships into low orbit?”

  “Not as far as we can tell,” Callaway said. “Stealthed probes are revealing nothing.”

  “It would be risky to try,” Biscoe offered.

  “We can't stay here indefinitely,” Elton said. Right now, it was a stalemate. He couldn't escape and they couldn't capture him. But that would change when - if - the Harmonies decided to abandon their plan to capture Odyssey intact. “Sooner or later, they’re going to demand we surrender - again.”

  “And then decide there’s no point in prolonging matters any longer,” Biscoe finished.

  Elton nodded. “Start deploying the drones,” he ordered. He glanced at his console. The ambassador was still talking to the aliens. “We’ll go in twenty minutes, once the drones are in place.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Callaway said.

  ***

  Rebecca braced herself as the channel opened, wishing - for the first time - that she had more experience negotiating from a position of weakness. She’d dictated to warlords on Earth - knowing that she was backed by more firepower than any of those monstrous assholes could comprehend - and spoken to alien powers as equals. But the Harmonies not only considered themselves superior to a junior race like humanity, they had the firepower to back it up too.

  A face appeared in front of her, wrapped in a silver cloak. All she could see was the eyes and hints of green skin.

  “You will surrender ...”

  “I am an ambassador, accredited by my government to treat with ambassadors of equal rank,” Rebecca said, casually. “Are you an ambassador?”

  The alien hesitated, just long enough to let her know she’d scored a hit. There was no point showing weakness, not when neither she nor the captain had any intention of actually surrendering the ship. And if she knew one thing about the Galactics, it was that they thought in terms of masters and slaves. If they could be convinced that she was the master ...

  “I am a representative of my government,” the alien managed, finally. “I ...”

  “I’m afraid I must speak to an ambassador,” Rebecca said. She spoke from memory, silently grateful that her instructors had forced her to wade through the material until she didn't need her implants to remember it. “Galactic Diplomatic Protocol, Book Four, Chapter Five, Section Eight, Subsection Twelve. All discussions between diplomatic representatives are to be conducted between equals. I must insist that you find me an ambassador at once.”

  She leaned back in her chair, making it clear that she was fully prepared to wait. It was unlikely the alien could read her body language, any more than she could read his, but it was better to be safe than sorry. They might have a translation and analysis program monitoring the conversation. She’d found that they tended to make entertaining mistakes - which were less entertaining when lives were at stake - yet the Galactics still took them seriously. It helped, she supposed, that they didn't have true AI.

  A new face appeared in the display, five minutes later. It wore the same silver robes, bearing a set of diplomatic insignias. Rebecca made a show of examining them while the alien presented his credentials, including a long list of postings she suspected were intended to either impress or intimidate her. It wasted his time, so she made no attempt to stop the recital. If she was lucky, she could waste even more time by reciting her credentials right back at him.

  “You are ordered to surrender,” the alien said, once he had finished his recital. “The interstellar court has sat in judgement and determined that you are responsible for numerous crimes against the Kingdom of Harmonious Order.”

  They want the ship, Rebecca reminded herself. They want us to hand her over to them.

  “It has been clearly determined by Galactic Courts that any such hearing is only legitimate if both parties have a chance to present their stories,” Rebecca said. “I can cite hundreds of precedents if you wish.”

  “A message was sent, demanding that you dispatch a representative,” the alien countered. “A failure to attend a hearing, when given sufficient notice, is a de facto refusal to enter a plea. I can cite hundreds of precedents for that too.”

  “No such message was sent, let alone acknowledged,” Rebecca said. “Absent a formal demand for submissions, any attempt to take possession of our ship is of questionable legality. Furthermore” - she pushed on, trying to force the alien to respond to her - “such hearings have to be carried out by neutral judges. There is no one neutral on this planet.”

  The alien made a hissing sound. “The courts on this world are renowned for their harmony.”

  Rebecca wondered, absently, if that was an alien pun. “The court cannot be considered neutral, as it is sited on Harmony and the judges are drawn from the planet’s governing body,” she said. She’d read enough horror stories about Galactic courts to understand their weaknesses. “In all such cases, the inquest should be shifted to the nearest neutral world.”

  There was a long pause. “This is not a simple inquest into smuggling,” the alien said. It was hard to be sure, but Rebecca thought he was angry. “This is an inquest into the deaths of seven hundred and fifty thousand civilians on our homeworld.”

  Rebecca blinked. Seven hundred and fifty thousand? The marines had estimated that around a thousand Harmonies had been killed, although they’d admitted that there was no way to be sure. Seven hundred and fifty would have been a believable number. Seven hundred and fifty thousand was so far beyond believable that no one would believe it. Maybe they’d just jacked the number up to impress the other Galactics. A thousand dead would pass unremarked on many overpopulated worlds.

  “We have ultimate jurisdiction in such matters,” the alien continued. “You are ordered to surrender your ship now or we will take it by force.”

  “We fly un
der a diplomatic flag,” Rebecca said. She used her implants to send the captain a message, warning him that they were running out of time. She’d hoped the Harmonies could be stalled for longer, but clearly time was not on their side. “An attempt to seize the ship is prohibited by Galactic Law ...”

  “Which can be put aside by your refusal to collaborate,” the alien said. “Surrender your ship.”

  Rebecca smiled, rather coldly, as the captain’s response blinked up in front of her eyes, informing her that they were ready to go.

  “No,” she said.

  The alien recoiled. “What do you mean, no?”

  “I mean no,” Rebecca said, airily. It felt good to throw diplomacy aside, just once. She might be about to die, along with the rest of the crew, but at least they’d go out swinging. A dull vibration ran through the ship as she started to move. “I mean we won’t surrender. And if you are wise, you will make no attempt to bar our way.”