But if we emit a single betraying pulse, he thought, they’ll know where to find us.
Had it been a mistake to reject the ultimatum? There was no way to know, save the certainty that humanity would be enslaved or destroyed if they surrendered. It was better to live as free men, rather than slaves, he’d thought. And the public had agreed ... but what if the alternative to servitude was death? No, not just death, extermination. Was it better for the human race to live in slavery rather than be wiped out?
He sighed, then smiled darkly. The Tokomak didn't know – would never know – just how many colony ships had been launched into the darkness of unexplored space, each one with a Galactic-level tech base. One or more of them would establish a successful colony, then come back to Earth for revenge. Given fifty years of development, the Tokomak wouldn't stand a chance ...
And if none of those colonies succeeds, he thought, at least our example will show the other Galactics that the masters of the universe are far from invincible.
Chapter Thirty-Five
A number of teachers were reported murdered after their bodies were discovered in an isolated warehouse in Chicago. While police have declined to speculate on the motive, several PTA representatives have informed the media that the teachers were the target of three successive attempts to have them removed from their jobs, which were barred by the Teacher’s Union.
-Solar News Network, Year 53
“We are approaching Earth’s gravity well,” the Admiral reported. “Preparing to drop out of FTL.”
Neola nodded, impatiently. The human boarders were making their remorseless way towards the command core, no matter what she put in their way. Part of her mind started to devise contingency plans; the remainder focused on the job at hand. Their homeworld might be heavily defended – she had to assume it was – but it was still vulnerable. It simply couldn't run.
“Good,” she said. “Take us out of FTL as near as you can to the gravity well.”
A low groan ran through the ship as the much-abused FTL drive powered down, returning them to normal space. Neola would have been amused, under other circumstances, at how the only ships that had escaped the ambush were the ones whose commanding officers had taken her instructions seriously. The commanders who hadn't listened to her and continuing painting their hulls were the commanders who remained stranded, in deep space. Perhaps she would leave them there indefinitely, just to teach them a lesson. Or perhaps she wouldn't bother to save them at all. Let them save themselves, if they could.
“The human homeworld,” the Admiral said, quietly.
Neola’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure we headed to the right system?”
Earth was a blue-green world, like so many others in the galaxy. It would have been a surprise if it hadn't developed higher life forms, given the sheer stubbornness of life, once it was brought into existence. The humanoid form was common throughout the galaxy, particularly on Earth-like worlds. It represented the simplest solution to the problem posed by evolution.
But Earth looked ... undeveloped. There was no network of battlestations, no clouds of orbital weapons platforms, no swarms of starships boiling towards the intruding fleet, intent on obliterating Neola and her ships before they could threaten Earth. All her sensors could detect were a few hundred satellites, all achingly primitive. There were very few hints of Galactic-level technology, at least on the planet’s surface. Was she looking at a deliberately low-tech world?
“The navigation computer confirms this is Earth,” the Admiral said. He essayed a short laugh. “The stars are definitely in the right place.”
Neola glanced down at her console, checking for herself. It had been centuries since the Tokomak had noted the worthless world and its primitive inhabitants ... if the humans hadn't received help, they wouldn't have been in a position to threaten anyone. There was no mistake, no glitch in the navigational systems. They were advancing on the homeworld of the human race.
Were the humans hiding their defences, for some reason, or were there no defences? It looked absurd, but if the humans had thrown all their resources into building the fleet that had devastated her formation, perhaps they hadn't had the chance to build fixed defences too. Or ... perhaps they were simply focused on attacking, like many primitive races, and didn't consider the advantages of a study defence against attack. Or ...
There were no shipyards. Indeed, apart from clear signs of terraforming on two rocky worlds, there were few signs the humans had managed to move beyond their atmosphere ... something that puzzled her. Even as primitive as the humans were, they should have done much more ... and they had built a war fleet. The Coalition wouldn't have needed to play games if they had the same technology, let alone use humans as mercenaries. Her allies would have been destroyed years ago, if the Coalition had human-grade weapons.
She pushed the thought aside as the blue-green world came closer. Whatever game the humans were playing, the majority of their race would die today. And then the Tokomak would relentlessly hunt down the hidden bases and colonies ... there were quite a few unexplored stars near Earth, systems deemed of no interest to anyone. The humans had probably built their bases there.
“Lock weapons on population centres,” she ordered. It was a small mercy, but one she would offer to worthy foes. “Prepare to fire.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” the Admiral said. “Missiles locked on target.”
***
“We’re returned to normal space,” Robbins said. “They must have reached Earth.”
Martin cursed under his breath as he ducked a spray of plasma fire. The Tokomak were definitely not trained soldiers, but they were displaying a surprising amount of initiative in slowing down the Marines. So far, they’d done everything from sneaky ambushes to outright charges, throwing automated cleaning machines at the humans to soak up their fire. He couldn't help wondering if they were running into different commanders with each airlock, as they were using different tactics, or if the Tokomak were deliberately trying to confuse them.
“Get through the next airlock,” Robbins added. “We have to get to the command core.”
“Try and link to someone outside,” Hendrix observed, as they punched through the next airlock and into a long bland corridor. It was ideal ambush territory, so the Marines launched a spread of grenades ahead of them, clearing the Tokomak out of their path. “The Solar Union might be able to send support.”
Red lights flared up in Martin’s HUD as another force of Tokomak charged forward, spearheaded by yet another set of cleaning machines. The machines were supposed to be harmless, just like the automated units he’d seen on some of the asteroid settlements he’d visited, but they could do real damage if they had a chance. This time, one of them carried a crude flamethrower, which poured fire towards the Marines. It wasn't hot enough to burn the suit, Martin noted with some relief, but it played merry hell with the sensors.
He targeted the lead machine and fired. It exploded into a sheet of fire as whatever it was using to power the flamethrower exploded, knocking several of the other machines over and onto the deck. Exposed, the following Tokomak threw themselves to the deck, then opened fire, handheld plasma weapons throwing bursts of deadly green light at their enemies. Their reactions were faster than Martin had expected, but he had no doubt they’d learned from the experiences of the first Tokomak to engage the human intruders. Making oneself a target was just asking to be shot.
“Grenades,” Roger yelled. “Duck!”
He launched a set of grenades over the wreckage and into the enemy mass. The explosions shook the deck, blowing holes in material that was probably worth more than their collective salaries for the year. Martin sprang forward, noting the remains of the Tokomak with disgust, then reached the end of the corridor and hurled a grenade through. The suit picked up alien screams as the remainder of the Marines joined him, then crashed through into the next section. A handful of dead or wounded Tokomak stared up at him, accusation clearly visible on their ali
en faces. The Marines disposed of them and moved onwards.
Martin felt sick, just for a moment, before his implants compensated. The Tokomak were monsters, intending to destroy Earth – and, as bad as Earth had become, it was still the homeworld of the human race. And yet, part of him felt guilty for gunning down helpless opponents, even though he knew the living ones wouldn't be helpless for long. They couldn't afford to show mercy, not now.
“No direct link to enemy command system,” his suit informed him.
Of course not, he thought, sourly. That would be easy.
He ducked as a flash of brilliant white light shot over his head, then fired a stream of plasma pulses back towards the shooter. His suit compensated automatically for the flash of white light as a plasma containment system exploded, sending gouts of white fire rushing out in all directions. It was hot enough to melt parts of the bulkhead, the hidden layers of super-strong composite material that made up the inner structure of the starship. He found himself feeling an odd flash of sympathy for whoever had been wielding the weapon, hoping they had died instantly. Plasma burns were no joke.
“Shit,” Roger said. “The LT!”
Martin swore as a new alert flared up in his HUD. Deliberately or otherwise, the Tokomak had killed Lieutenant Robbins. She'd seemed too mean to die. Martin hadn't thought there was anything that could kill her, after watching how she handled Marines who were larger and stronger than her. There were women in the ghetto who would have killed for her strength, skill and ability to command respect. She couldn't be dead.
But she was.
He swallowed as the combat net checked through the surviving Marines, then presented him with the bad news. He was in command now.
“Keep moving,” he ordered, cursing as he fell back. He couldn't take point any longer, not when he was meant to be in command. They’d certainly swapped operational command in exercises often enough for him to know what he should do. But he didn't like it, not even slightly. It smacked of retreat in the face of the enemy. “And don’t let up for a moment!”
The command net opened in front of him, for all the good it did. As far as it was concerned, the remaining Marines were all the surviving human military units in the vicinity. There was no link to anyone outside the ship, no hint that there might be help on the way ... hell, there was no hint they were even anywhere near Earth. It was quite possible the Tokomak ship had simply suffered a drive failure and had been ejected back into normal space, somewhere in the middle of the interstellar wasteland.
And if that was the case, he told himself, surely they would have tried to talk.
He couldn't see the Tokomak continuing the fight when it was pointless. They weren't cowards, but they were pragmatic. There was simply no point in waging war if they were stuck in interstellar space, light years from help. No, the Tokomak had reached their destination and were preparing to attack. It was the only possibility that made sense.
“Keep moving,” he repeated, as he checked the map. They weren't far from the command deck, but they were running into more and more barricades and ambushes. “We have got to take this ship out before it’s too late.”
***
Yolanda braced herself as Freedom returned to normal space. Earth appeared in her awareness, followed by Luna and the network of primitive satellites surrounding Earth, most of them nothing more than scrap metal. The Solar Union had supplied a handful of communications satellites, she recalled from her studies, which supported the datanet and handled all of Earth’s telecommunications. Everything else ... had just been allowed to decay into nothingness. Earth was the old world, collapsing under its own weight, while the S9olar Union was the future.
She grimaced as the Tokomak battleships came into view. They were a sorry sight; twenty-eight of them, plunging towards Earth. There should have been thirty, she reminded herself, but the remaining two failed to materialise. Had they lost their FTL during the trip to Earth, she wondered, or had the enemy tripped the self-destruct rather than allow the Marines to take control? There was no way to know.
“They’re entering weapons range of Earth,” Commander Gregory said.
It was worse than that, Yolanda knew. The Solar Treaty had prohibited the Solar Union from emplacing weapons in orbit around Earth, as if it would cause delays in responding to any provocation from a nation-state on the homeworld. There was nothing stopping the Tokomak from launching ballistic weapons towards Earth ... or simply ramming their battleships into the biosphere. At the speeds they were travelling, the impact would be far worse than an asteroid, exterminating the entire planet.
But the human race will live on, she thought, savagely. We’ll be back for you bastards.
“Close to engagement range,” Captain Singh ordered. “And open fire as soon as you can.”
“Aye, sir,” Commander Gregory said.
***
“The human fleet has arrived,” the Admiral said.
Neola looked at the display, then bit down a vile word. The human fleet had been much reduced by the battle – she hadn't left them completely unscathed, then – but there were enough survivors to obliterate her remaining ships. And only a handful of her vessels could even hope to escape, if they fled back into FTL. Several of the survivors needed urgent repairs before they dared enter FTL ...
But it didn't matter. Earth was at their mercy. And she dared show none.
“Prepare to fire,” she ordered. She’d held fire long enough to ensure the human defences, if there were any, would be unable to stop all of her missiles. Now, there was no longer any point in further delay. “Fire ...”
An explosion cut off her words.
***
The Tokomak seemed to consider themselves aristocrats, Martin had noted, as they fought their way through the ship, but their officers were clearly considered royalty. Their quarters were staggeringly luxurious by their own standards, completely decadent by human standards; the Marines had even encountered a handful of enemy officers who were clearly skiving off the battle, even though human soldiers were rampaging through their ships. If they’d been trained by Marine Corps Drill Instructors ... he bit off the happy thought about what would happen to anyone who turned up to Roll Call drunk as a lord, then followed the point men into the next section.
“Push through,” he snapped, as the Tokomak rallied. They seemed to be using all kinds of furniture to make barricades, something that made him smile. It was odd to think he had anything in common with the Tokomak, but if he’d had to work for officers who surrounded themselves with so much luxury, he would have been glad of the opportunity to smash their expensive furniture too. “Don’t give them a moment to recover.”
There was a deafening series of explosions, then the resistance slackened suddenly. This time, the enemy had nowhere to run. The Marines advanced rapidly, throwing their remaining grenades ahead of them to clear the way, then finally reached the hatch leading into the command core. It was gaudy, decorated with what looked like a coat of arms covered with an entire page of strange alien writing, but it was unmistakable. And large enough to allow the Marines to walk through, two abreast. It was clear, Martin noted as the Marines fixed charges to the hatch, that the designers had never anticipated anyone actually boarding and storming one of their battleships.
“Now,” he ordered.
The charges detonated. Martin watched as the hatch fell inwards, pieces of debris falling into the massive compartment, then followed the point men into the command core. It was far larger than he’d expected, crammed with Tokomak and holographic displays – and was that a Varnar in the corner, standing there like a naughty child? The Tokomak looked shocked, utterly shocked, to see the humans. Hadn't they known their craft was being boarded?
“Stand away from the consoles,” Martin ordered, in Galactic Standard. It was unlikely that any of the Tokomak had bothered to learn English, or any other language. They might not even have loaded translation modules into their implants. “Do not attempt to draw a weapon or
do anything to resist.”
The Tokomak obeyed, one by one. It was hard to tell which of them was in charge – they all wore gaudy uniforms, covered in yellow and black stripes that indicated high rank – but they obeyed. His implants informed him, helpfully, that a third of the Tokomak were female, although it was hard to see how anyone could tell the difference. They all looked alike to him.
“Good,” he said. “Which one of you is in command?”
***
Neola watched the humans, too tired to be shocked that they had forced their way into the command core. It was ... it was blasphemy. The only aliens allowed in the command core were subject races, people who knew where they stood. But the humans had forced their way onto the ship ...
Her mind raced, accessing her implants and issuing a final set of orders, as she rose to her feet and faced the humans. It was impossible to see their faces, hidden in their crude suits, but she imagined them cowering before her might. The Tokomak might have been embarrassed by the battle – and it would be years before the repercussions died away – yet they were still the Tokomak, still the founders of the largest interstellar empire known to exist. And what were the upstart humans to them?
A Learning Experience 2: Hard Lessons Page 36