Their Last Full Measure

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Admiral, the planet is revolting,” the subordinate said. “The entire planet has risen against us.”

  Pentode blanched. The servitors had been dissatisfied ever since they’d heard of a barbarian race that had dared raise a hand to its masters. They’d never realised that everything the Tokomak did was for their own good. They’d never realised ... a few months ago, everyone with half a brain had known that rebellion was futile. But now ... everyone had seen the remnants of the Empress’s fleet as she’d crawled back to Tokomak Prime. They knew the Tokomak could be beaten. And even if the revolt was put down, it would do one hell of a lot of damage.

  He forced himself to think. The human fleet was getting stronger and stronger as more ships arrived. He still had an edge, but it was shrinking rapidly. What would happen if he lost? What would happen if ... his brain ran in circles as more and more reports flowed into the datanet. There were riots in all the major cities, uprisings and coups and mass slaughters and ... he was almost tempted to surrender, except the humans might not be able to save his people. Every single Tokomak in the system itself was doomed.

  The humans opened fire, their missiles streaking into the teeth of his point defence. They were good, very good. His point defence stopped some of them, but the remainder kept coming. They were targeting his battleships, trying to cripple or destroy them. His ships returned fire, but the human ships were heavily protected. Their point defence stopped nearly three-fourths of the missiles aimed at them.

  He silently evaluated his chances as four battleships were blown to hell, a fifth shooting lifepods in all directions before following its comrades into death. He might bull through the human ships, at the cost of losing most of his fleet. And then the humans would just keep coming. He’d seen the reports. He was facing only a small fraction of their fleet. The remainder would keep coming and push him right out of the system, if he survived long enough. And, in the meantime, the rioters would tear the entire system to pieces.

  “Power up the stardrives,” he ordered, shortly. Shock ran around the compartment. “We have to fall back.”

  He ignored a handful of protests, protests that would have made him explode with rage if they’d been fighting a normal battle, then ordered his ships to drop into FTL. The humans could have stopped them, if they’d thought to power up their gravity wells in time ... he breathed a sigh of relief as they passed through the danger zone and plunged into interstellar space. The humans would track them, of course, but they’d have trouble bringing his fleet to battle. He’d have time to lick his wounds and decide what to do next. If nothing else, his fleet wasn’t weak. He’d be a lurking threat the humans would have to confront.

  “Dispatch a courier boat to Tokomak Prime,” he ordered. “The Empress must be informed.”

  And even if she wants me dead, she has to know what’s happened here, he told himself, stiffly. Maybe she can put a fleet together in time to save us.

  “Aye, Admiral,” one of his subordinates said. “What about the planet?”

  Pentode said nothing for a long moment, then spoke. “The planet will have to take care of itself,” he said. He’d thought he’d prepared for anything. In hindsight, it was clear his foresight had been nowhere near enough. “We can’t help them.”

  ***

  “The enemy fleet has broken off,” Karan reported. “The remainder of the minefield has been cleared.”

  Colin nodded, stiffly. The plan had worked, but not well enough. He’d hoped to convince the enemy fleet to fight a missile duel, giving him the chance to smash it before it could withdraw or be reinforced. Instead, the enemy had fallen back and run for interstellar space. It wouldn’t last long, not without supplies and a secure base, but ... he shook his head. It would have to be handled, somehow. He just wasn’t sure how.

  “Force One is to proceed to the planet,” he ordered. They were picking up hundreds of pleas for help, pleas he had to answer. “Force Two is to maintain position on the gravity point. Force Three is to build up, then proceed to Point One when ready. The other two gravity points will have to wait.”

  Which may work in our favour, he told himself. The fleeing freighters would tell everyone what they’d seen. Word will spread faster than the Tokomak can stop it.

  He allowed his imagination to fill in the blanks as the squadron slipped into FTL, racing to the planet itself. Word would be spreading fast, heading straight to Tokomak Prime. His most optimistic estimates suggested the Tokomak Empress would hear of their advance in a couple of weeks, depending on factors outside his control. And then? She’d have to stop him before he reached the Twins or ... or what? She couldn’t simply write off the Twins, or all hell would break loose.

  But numbers are her only advantage, he thought. It was harsh, but true. She’d be a fool to throw them away too quickly.

  “And order the LinkShip pilot to contact me, when she returns to the fleet,” he added. “I have an idea I want to discuss with her.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Karan said.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You know,” Butler remarked, “I’m feeling very naked out here.”

  “You’re not naked,” Martin commented, dryly. “For which, I assure you, we are all very grateful.”

  Butler snorted. “I’ll have you know I won the Mr. Great Butt competition on Syndrome Asteroid five years ago.”

  “I thought it was the Mr. Big Ass competition,” Martin said. “And you had to bribe the judges.”

  “It was no hardship,” Butler said. “And that judge was a real ...”

  Piece snorted, rudely. “Do you always banter like this?”

  Martin indicated the display. “What would you suggest we do?”

  The display shifted, revealing a line of starships slowly making their way towards the gravity point. Someone had been busy. The files insisted the gravity point was unguarded, but there were a cluster of fortresses sitting on top of the point and a squadron of starships floating nearby. Martin was no expert on deep space combat, but he was fairly sure the fortresses should be on the other side of the gravity point. There was no point in fortifying a position where the enemy could stand off and batter you to death from long-range. They might as well throw the fortresses into the nearest star.

  “The codes will work,” Piece said. “There’s no need to be nervous.”

  “I don’t feel nervous.” Butler elbowed him, gently. “I feel like getting naked.”

  “I thought you were supposed to set a good example for the troops,” Martin teased. “It’s written in the manual.”

  Butler adopted a look of darkest suspicion. “Who told you those manuals existed? Was it Porter? Or Rouge? Or ...”

  “I did read them for myself,” Martin said. “Sergeants are meant to wear red so the blood doesn’t show and discourage the troops. You’re out of uniform.”

  “I changed into my brown pants,” Butler countered, snidely. He indicated the icons on the display. “You know what’ll happen if those monsters open fire.”

  “Yeah.” Martin felt a chill that no amount of banter could dispel. “We’ll be dead before we know what hit us.”

  Piece looked from one to the other. “You’re both insane,” he said. “How did you manage to qualify with attitudes like that?”

  Martin shrugged. “We know what we’re doing,” he assured the operative. “Every last man on this ship” - except for you, he carefully didn’t say - “has over ten years of experience, in everything from line infantry to SF. They know the score. They can put up with a little clowning around without diminishing their respect for senior officers.”

  “My respect for you, sir, has never been higher,” Butler said, archly.

  “You see?” Martin pretended to miss the joke. “He respects me more already.”

  Piece opened his mouth to say something, but the console bleeped before he could get a single word out. Instead, he bent over the console and activated the conversational overlay once again. Martin watched, feeling more nervous -
and naked - than he cared to admit. If they were caught ... he shook his head. The Tokomak had to deal with thousands of ships passing through the gravity point, fleeing a human offensive still hundreds of light years away. There was no reason they should pick their ship out of the line for further questioning, particularly not with the Galactic-level codes they were using. But Martin wasn’t so sure. He wouldn’t have been pleased if someone talked to him in such a manner. He would have looked for a chance to get his own back, if he could keep his involvement a secret ...

  The console pinged, again. “We have clearance to proceed,” Piece said. “And a new download from the news servers.”

  “Most of which will be lies,” Martin predicted. They’d made sure to get downloads from each system they’d crossed. The stories had grown wilder and wilder the further they’d travelled from N-Gann. The Tokomak seemed torn between branding the human incursion as a minor border skirmish and the end of the universe, as they knew it. “Or do you think they’ll start telling their people the truth?”

  Piece shrugged. “Why break the habits of a lifetime?”

  Martin forced himself to relax as Hoyden moved towards the gravity point and jumped. Space twisted around them, the display blanking and hastily rebooting as the drives shoved them off the gravity point. Red light washed over the display, nearly giving him a heart attack before he realised they weren’t actually being targeted. The small armada of fortresses on the gravity point were scanning everyone with tactical sensors. Martin felt a flicker of contempt, mingled with concern. Perhaps even fear. A jumpy officer might put a missile or an energy beam through Hoyden’s hull without ever stopping to think about what he was doing. He might not even have a chance to realise that blowing up a Harmony ship would cause a diplomatic incident ...

  The Harmonies would be very surprised to hear that they had a ship out here, Martin thought, as they were steered away from the gravity point. And then the whole story would unravel rather quickly.

  He snorted at the thought. The Tokomak would have problems deciding what to do about it, if they realised that humans - and others - were using Galactic-level codes. It would take years to change the codes and make sure everyone was updated, which would give the smugglers and others a chance to adjust their own codes. And they couldn’t inspect every ship passing through the gravity points without bringing interstellar trade to a standstill. It might even be worth tipping them off, he thought. They’d cause more problems for themselves when they tried to stop it.

  Perhaps later, he thought. Right now, we have other problems.

  The Twins unfolded in front of him as they glided further into the system, on a course that would - hopefully - allow them to vanish without causing alarm. There were two stars, each one surrounded by a number of rocky planets and gas giants. The system hummed with activity, hundreds of thousands of energy sources appearing on the passive display as more and more data flooded into the system. It was chillingly evident that the Twins’ system was an industrial behemoth, bigger than anything he’d seen in the Solar Union. Given time, and proper specifications, the Twins could outproduce the entire Galactic Alliance. Martin had seen immense systems before, but the Twins’ system was simply stunning. The mere sight took his breath away.

  He glanced at Piece. “And you think your people can take control of the system?”

  “You’d be surprised,” Piece said. He tapped his console, altering course and steering towards a cluster of asteroids. “The defence network is run by the Tokomak, but everything else ... they’re literally infested by servitor races. Even most of the defence stations have servitors onboard, doing the shit work no one else wants to do. And we’ve been putting together a network of cells, ready to take the stations or destroy them when the shit hits the fan.”

  Butler snorted. “And what about the risk of being uncovered?”

  “A lot of cells have been broken, over the years,” Piece said. “But - thankfully - none of the really important leaders were taken alive.”

  He shrugged. “Even if they guessed just how wide the network had become, over the years, they wouldn’t be able to do much about it. They’re dependent on servitor labour to maintain just about everything. Oh, they crack down on rebel cells whenever they find them - and reshuffle entire teams every year or so - but the networks are too encompassing to be stopped so easily. There are limits to how much they can do without crippling themselves. And now, with a war on, they can’t even do that.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Martin said. “How did they ever get into such a mess?”

  “Arrogance and the simple lack of any real threat from outside their empire,” Piece said, as he fiddled with the console. “Now, if you’ll give me a moment, I need to exchange signs and countersigns.”

  Martin watched, feeling cold as Hoyden approached the asteroids. They looked like a regular mining colony that was steadily converting itself into a long-term home, somewhere on the edge of civilised space without ever quite slipping into illegality. It reminded him of the Solar Union, although he knew the laws were tougher here. A group couldn’t simply set up an asteroid home and expect to be left alone, not when they might be plotting rebellion. They might be flying straight into a trap. Martin promised himself, quietly, that he’d sell their lives dearly if they were. They couldn’t be taken alive. They knew too much.

  A low shudder ran through the ship as she docked, the airlocks matching perfectly. Piece stood, brushing down his tunic. “You want to come with me? You might enjoy it.”

  “Sure.” Martin’s eyes shifted to Butler. “You know the drill.”

  “Panic if you don’t return within two hours,” Butler said. All traces of amusement were gone. “And then do as I see fit.”

  “Pull back and vanish,” Martin said. They didn’t have time to locate rebel cells on their own, not if this meeting went sour. “And find a way to hurt them when the system is attacked.”

  Piece nodded, then led him through the airlock and into the asteroid itself. The air smelled unpleasant, although Martin’s implants assured him it was safe to breathe. The illusion of being in the Solar Union swiftly vanished as they moved past a series of caverns, each one hosting hundreds of people from a dozen different races. The asteroid looked like a refugee camp. Martin had served on a handful of dorm asteroids, where new immigrants stayed until they got their bearings, but even they hadn’t been so ... vile. It looked more like one of the camps on Earth than anything else.

  He followed Piece, grimly aware they were being watched. A pair of young aliens were following them, keeping their distance while always keeping them in sight. Piece showed no reaction, but Martin was sure he’d spotted them too. They stopped in front of an airlock, which opened long enough to admit them before closing with an ominous thud. Martin felt trapped as he surveyed the room. Four aliens stood around a table, representing four different races. Martin had to consult his implants to place them. All four races had been primitive when the Tokomak arrived on their worlds. They’d never had the chance to make something of themselves. Instead, they’d simply been enslaved.

  “Welcome back,” one of the aliens said. He looked like a humanoid octopus, tentacles waving in all directions. Martin couldn’t tell if he was male or female or something else, something alien. His voice was whispery yet oddly crude, as if the language he spoke hadn’t been designed for his mouth. “Are our comrades with you?”

  “They are,” Piece confirmed. “And all is well here?”

  “There have been no great changes,” another alien said. He was humanoid too, but the proportions were all wrong. Martin felt a chill just looking at him. “Our masters” - the word was laced with weapons-grade sarcasm - “continue to prepare for your war.”

  Piece took a step forward. “The war is coming here,” he said. “And you have to be ready.”

  Martin listened quietly as Piece outlined the plan, as he knew it. The operative didn’t know that Admiral Teller’s thrust was just a diversion, although there
was a realistic prospect of him reaching the Twins and perhaps even carrying the war to Tokomak Prime itself. It would depend on just what, if anything, the Tokomak did when they learnt about the fleet. Martin knew it wouldn’t be long before they had to make a choice. They practically had to know the human fleet was advancing now. The informational wave had long since passed through the Twins and gone on.

  He forced himself to pay attention as the debate raged on, his implants recording it for later analysis. It was difficult to tell who supported what, let alone which way they’d jump when the shit hit the fan. Resistance movements built on cells and sub-networks tended to be disorganised, even when they needed to act in unison. And the threat of reprisal was always present. If the resistance rose, and failed to take control of the planet and hold it until Admiral Teller arrived, they were doomed. The Tokomak would slaughter without mercy.

  And yet, they’d be burning down a sizable chunk of their industry if they want to kill everyone, he reminded himself. They’d be insane to lay waste to the entire system.