The Long Road Home (A Learning Experience Book 4)

by Christopher Nuttall

  Apparently it’s a little harder in the real world, she thought. Two crewmen were kneeling in front of an open hatch, doing ... something. She peered into the hatch and saw a confusing mass of blinking circuits. It meant nothing to her. For all she knew, they were just trying to look busy when the Senior Chief was nearby. Nothing is simple in real life.

  She nodded to the crewmen, then walked past them and through the hatch into her suite. The lights came on as she entered, revealing that several items she’d left lying on her desk had been tossed around the compartment and dumped on the floor during the battle. She smiled - all the sims showed consoles exploding, as if the designers hid explosive packs underneath just to detonate at the right moment - and started to pick them up. It wasn't much, but it wasn't as if anyone else was going to do it for her. Personal servants were very rare in the Solar Union.

  Unless you happen to be an admiral or staggeringly wealthy, she thought. An admiral having a personal assistant would be understood; a wealthy man hiring servants would be seen as tasteless conspicuous consumption. But a mere diplomat isn't important enough to have a steward.

  The display lit up as she approached, showing a series of icons and status reports that were beyond her comprehension. She tried to parse a couple of them out, then gave up. The only thing that made any sense was a note that - so far - the Harmonies didn't seem to have tracked them down. Rebecca hoped - prayed - that they’d remain unmolested until they finished repairing the ship. Odyssey had done a lot of damage during the breakout, but she doubted their luck would last indefinitely. The Harmonies would be more determined to hunt them down than ever before.

  She glanced at the bed, wishing - suddenly - that she’d started a relationship with someone on the ship. Her body wanted someone to hold her, after the battle; someone to celebrate their escape, someone to reassure her that she was still alive. Male or female, she wasn't fussy ... no one would care, as long as her lover wasn't someone who reported to her. But even if she had, her lover would probably be repairing the ship. She didn’t want to think about the captain’s likely reaction if she asked permission for her lover to join her in bed. She’d probably be safer standing next to an antimatter containment centre during a power outage.

  The thought made her smile, humourlessly, as she pulled up a string of files. She’d made sure to download everything on the Harmony Sector, even though most of the information was significantly out of date. And everything the information broker had given them had proved accurate, just ... just incomplete. In hindsight, that should have tipped them off that something wasn't right. But then ...

  No, she told herself, firmly. There’s no point in second-guessing ourselves now.

  She started to work. It was unlikely she’d find something the analysts had missed, but she might just be able to see things from a civilian point of view. The military mindset wasn't stupid, yet she’d often noted it could be limited. Perhaps there were other things that should be taken into consideration. Perhaps, even, she could find them. And then ...

  And if we don’t find a way home, she thought, we could spend the rest of our lives in this wretched sector.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Assuming that that is actually true - that we must fight the war - how do we fight it on favourable terms? The only advantage we have lies with our technology. In everything else, from raw population numbers to fleet sizes and military bases, we are grossly outmatched by the Tokomak and the other Galactics.

  How, then, does adding a number of other races to our defence commitments work in our favour? Does it not, instead, spread our forces out, allowing the enemy a chance to defeat the dispersed units one by one?

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

  It was a relief, Elton decided, to head back to the conference room after the brief funeral service. He knew it was important to mark the passing of the dead, but they’d barely had time to do more than say a few words. He’d have to write letters to each and every one of the families, after they returned home ... he sighed, knowing it wasn't going to be easy. He’d done his best to learn the names of each and every crewman under his command, without using his implants to cheat, but he just didn't know enough about the dead to write a proper letter.

  And it won’t matter at all, he told himself, if we don’t get home.

  He took his seat and motioned for his senior staff to take their places, while a young ensign handed out coffee. Ambassador Motherwell - Rebecca, he reminded himself - had asked to join them and he’d agreed, although reluctantly. It wasn't that he disliked Rebecca - he'd found himself rather fond of her - but he was fairly sure they were beyond diplomacy after everything that had happened. The Harmonies were no longer interested in talking.

  “Mr. Wolf,” he said, once everyone had a cup of coffee. “Our current status?”

  “Acceptable, under the circumstances,” Wolf said. The Chief Engineer didn't sound happy, but that was no surprise. “We’ve repaired as much of the damage as possible, Captain, and replaced what we can't fix. The hull is as solid as its going to be, I think. I believe we cannot go any further without a shipyard and some specialist help.”

  “Understood,” Elton said. “Mr. Callaway?”

  “I’ve transhipped all the remaining missiles and other supplies from the freighter,” Callaway said. “We have enough firepower to give the enemy a bloody nose, if they find us. The freighter herself is empty now. I think we may want to consider abandoning her.”

  “That’ll go down well with her commander,” Biscoe commented.

  “She took some damage, sir,” Callaway said. “Frankly, the freighters are liabilities. We could have evaded their ships altogether if we hadn't had to take care of the freighters.”

  “We’ll table that for the moment,” Elton said. He had no compunctions about abandoning the freighters, if necessary, but he was reluctant to make any final decisions as long as he didn't have to. “Mr. Biscoe?”

  “Morale is good, under the circumstances,” Biscoe said. He smiled, rather thinly. “I don’t think the gravity of our situation has sunk in, yet.”

  Elton nodded. “And our situation is ...?”

  Callaway tapped a switch. A holographic starchart, centred on Odyssey, snapped into existence above the table. “We have been tracking a number of battle squadrons leaving Harmony,” he said, as newer icons flickered into life. “As you can see, they dropped out of FTL at the marked locations, allowing them to extend their gravimetric sensors. When we go FTL, they’ll know it.”

  Rebecca leaned forward. “How do you know those ships are still there?”

  “We’d see them leaving,” Callaway said. His voice was carefully toneless. “The interlocking spheres on the display show their likely sensor range from their current positions. At least three battle squadrons will see us when we go.”

  “And then give chase,” Elton said. “We’re not going to be able to evade them indefinitely.”

  “No, sir,” Callaway said. “We can play cat and mouse for quite some time, according to the simulations, but they’ll run us down eventually.”

  “And as long as we remain hidden in interstellar space,” Elton mused, “they win anyway.”

  “Yes, sir,” Callaway said.

  “In theory, we could set out for home at once,” Elton added. “But that would take years. It would take months, at least, to reach a gravity point they didn't control, by which time they would probably be ahead of us. We have to find out what is actually going on and, somehow, get into the gravity point chain without being detected.”

  Biscoe looked doubtful. “We might be able to get one of the freighters through the chain,” he offered. “But they’d recognise Odyssey on sight.”

  “Yes, they will,” Elton said. He met his XO’s eyes. “This isn't something we can blast our way out of, I think. We have to use cunning.”

  Rebecca coughed. “Captain ... there are other galactic powers,” she said. “We could head to Refax or even K
eevan. Both of them are known rivals to the Harmonies. Even if they refused to help us, they’d get the word out.”

  “We don’t know if they can be trusted,” Major Rhodan said. “Madam Ambassador, we did everything right when we reached Harmony. We handled matters in line with protocol that was laid down long before humans learned how to write. And they still turned on us. They granted safe conduct and renounced it, they threw aside their strongest traditions, just to get their hands on this ship. We cannot risk putting ourselves in their hands.”

  “True,” Elton agreed. “We have to be careful.”

  He took control of the starchart. “They control most of the worlds in this sector,” he said, thoughtfully. “They definitely control most of the gravity points. However, there are some worlds they don't control - Kami, for one. It’s a major shipping nexus, but isolated enough to escape their domination.”

  Biscoe frowned. “You think we can go there?”

  “I think it’s our best chance to find out what’s really going on,” Elton said. “And it will also let us offload someone who can find passage back to Hudson Base. It should give us a second chance to get the word out.”

  “Risky,” Biscoe said.

  “Risk is our business,” Elton said. He grinned. “And now we’ve recited clichés at each other, I have a cunning plan.”

  He looked at Wolf. “We’ll abandon the damaged freighter here, rigged with an antimatter warhead,” he said. “The remaining ships will accompany us to one of the shipping lanes, where they’ll take us in tow. Hopefully, that will throw them off the scent for a while and give us a chance to make contacts on Kami.”

  “Even if it doesn't,” Callaway said, “they’ll need more than a single battle squadron to overwhelm Kami.”

  “They just need to scare the inhabitants,” Biscoe pointed out.

  Elton nodded in agreement. The files had made it clear that Kami was a disunited world, a mélange of colonies and settlements from a hundred different races that barely paid any heed to the planetary government. It was advanced, but it would never be a galactic power. No wonder, he’d thought while he was skimming the files, that smugglers regarded it as a key base. The inhabitants paid as little attention to galactic laws as possible.

  “I also want to see if we can obtain a new ship,” he said. “Madam Ambassador, I want you and your staff to go through the manifests on the remaining freighters and put together a list of things we can sell. We’re going to need galactic credits.”

  “We do have some credits,” Rebecca said. “How many more do you need?”

  “Enough to purchase a bulk freighter,” Elton said. “And perhaps more, if we can.”

  “We’ll do our best, Captain,” Rebecca said.

  Elton nodded. “I don’t doubt it,” he said. “Mr. XO, find someone with experience on alien worlds, someone who can be sent off on detached duty. Two, perhaps - if necessary. Make sure its volunteers only.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Biscoe said. “Do you think they can get back to Hudson Base?”

  “We can, but hope,” Elton said. He looked at the display, silently calculating the time it would take for the Harmonies to jump them. “That’s the trouble with cunning plans. They have a tendency to go wrong.”

  ***

  “Major,” Levi said, as she stepped into his office. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  “I did,” Major Rhodan said. He motioned for Levi to take a seat. “A little bird told me that you have experience on alien worlds - and not just as a marine on active deployment.”

  Levi frowned as she sat down. “My father was the descendent of a couple of abductees,” she said, feeling a flicker of distaste for the term. Her great-great-grandfather might have been kidnapped from Earth back before humans had started experimenting with steam ships, but her father and his father had grown up amongst the Galactics. And yet, they were still called abductees. “He joined a trading ship after Contact and spent a couple of decades playing tour guide before marrying my mother. I practically grew up on their ship.”

  Rhodan lifted an eyebrow. “Why did you decide to join the Marine Corps?”

  “I wanted a challenge,” Levi said. She shrugged. “A couple of the traders I met along the way were retired marines. They told me a great many tall tales about service in the corps.”

  “Very good,” Rhodan said. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I have a mission. It needs someone who can operate on an alien world. Are you interested?”

  “Semper Fi, sir,” Levi said. Rhodan wouldn't have considered her unless he’d thought she could handle it. “But I’d be happier if you told me what the mission actually was.”

  “The ship is en route to Kami,” Rhodan said. He held up a hand before Levi could start querying her implants. “You can look up the details later, if you wish. For the moment, all you need to know is that someone - two people, if we can spare a second - will be detached from the ship with orders to buy passage back to Hudson Base. Ideally, we'd want you to get there as quickly as possible.”

  Levi considered it for a long moment. “I assume you don’t want me to raise eyebrows?”

  “Correct,” Rhodan said. “Speed and stealth, LT.”

  “Then I’d have to book passage on a freighter,” Levi mused. “Ideally, I’d need to find one heading somewhere else, then switch ships at their destination. Booking a courier boat would be quicker, but it would probably attract attention.”

  “Particularly as you would be cooped up with someone non-human for weeks on end,” Rhodan said. He made a face. “I won’t presume to give you precise instructions, LT. You will have to do what seems best to you, at the time. And if you get caught ... you cannot afford to have anything connecting you to Odyssey on your person.”

  Levi nodded, stiffly. It was possible that there were humans on Kami already, either the descendants of other abductees or traders from Earth. But if she was hunting for Odyssey, she’d take a sharp look at any humans who showed up on the radar. She’d need to be very careful if she passed through a gravity point on a smuggler ship. The crew would have no motive to hide her.

  “I’ll see to it, sir,” she said. She’d feel odd, going down to the planet in civilian clothes, but she’d get over it. “Do you have another candidate lined up?”

  “Not as yet,” Rhodan said.

  Levi nodded, trying to remember if any of her squadmates had any useful experience. They’d all served on alien worlds, but ... she didn't think any of them had served as anything other than marines. They didn't know how to comport themselves, they didn't know how to find anything, they certainly didn't know how to avoid attracting attention. Hell, they didn't know how to find someone who could set them up with fake ID cards. Kami might not ask too many questions, but she doubted the Harmonies would be so obliging.

  “I’ll review the files tonight,” she promised. Perhaps she'd be lumbered with a starship crewman ... at least, he’d know what he was doing. “I won’t let you down.”

  Rhodan looked relieved. It struck her, suddenly, that there weren't many candidates, even on Odyssey. There just weren't that many humans with her background. And to think there had been times when she’d considered it a liability. The recruiter had made it clear that there would be certain aspects of the marine corps - intelligence, in particular - that would be forever closed to her. She didn't really blame him, either. The Galactics had no compunctions about using forced implantation to control slaves.

  She shivered. Extensive checks had revealed nothing. Hell, she’d never had any reason to think she might have been implanted. She’d certainly never been born and bred to be a cyborg soldier. But there was still the quiet lingering doubt in her mind ...

  “You’re on detached duty, as of this moment,” Rhodan said. “You’re excused all duties here - I want you to spend the next week preparing for the mission. If we find a second volunteer, you’ll be working with him. You can draw whatever you need from stores - just remember, if you waste all the cred
its, the beancounters will want your head.”

  “As long as it’s attached to the rest of me,” Levi said, lightly. “The platoon?”

  “Will be fine in Stewart’s hands,” Rhodan assured her. “Will you need to sleep apart too?”

  “I don’t get antsy when I sleep alone,” Levi said, crossly. Some marines did, for reasons she’d never been able to understand. Growing up on a starship - and then going through Boot Camp - had taught her to value what little privacy she had. “I assume I’m still on the reserve list, if the starship gets boarded?”

  “If the starship gets boarded,” Rhodan said dryly, “we’re all in deep shit.”

  He rose. “Good luck, LT,” he said. “And God Bless.”

  Levi returned his salute. “You make it sound like I’m leaving now,” she said. She didn't really blame him, though. The Major had to start planning for the day she left the marines and headed off on her own. He’d no longer be able to call on her. “But thanks anyway.”