Their Last Full Measure

by Christopher Nuttall

  “But we would have honoured the terms,” Coordinator Hakav insisted. “They weren’t ...”

  “They wouldn’t have taken our word for anything,” Neola said, crossly. She picked up a datapad and shoved it at him. “They don’t trust us. No one trusts us. And now our allies are crawling to the humans for the best terms they can get.”

  Admiral Kyan started. “They can’t already be going to the humans.”

  “Why not?” Neola rounded on him. “What’s happened, over the last few years? A series of crushing defeats, defeats that have proved to everyone with eyes that we can be beaten! And how many of our loyal” - she spat the word - “allies have dreams of regaining their independence, the freedom they enjoyed before we invented the stardrive? And even if they think themselves loyal, they’ll want to secure their future if the humans take our place. I’m sure they’re already bending the knee to the human race.”

  She thumped the table. “And now a human fleet is bearing down on us!”

  “The detectors are clear,” Admiral Kyan said. “I think ...”

  “You think?” Neola was tempted to point out that it had been a long time since Admiral Kyan had commanded a fleet in battle. He was on the council because of his bureaucratic skills, not because of any tactical acumen. He hadn’t even commanded a fleet manoeuvring its way through scripted exercises, with everyone perfectly aware of what the outcome would be well before the manoeuvres were completed. “The human ships would have to be practically on top of us before we got the alert. You didn’t even think to send out pickets!”

  She controlled herself with an effort. “We have two choices,” she said. “We fight and we win, or we surrender. And, by surrender, I mean we concede effective defeat. We accept the terms the humans offered, knowing that - in the long run - it will condemn us to slow decline and eventual collapse. It will be the end.”

  “They’ve promised to respect our space,” Coordinator Hakav said.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Neola laughed, humourlessly. “Think about it. The humans don’t need to wage war on us to crush us. In the short term, we’d lose both a sizable chunk of our empire and our economy, while we’d be deprived of the ability to fund our reconstruction by charging transit fees on the gravity point. In the long term, the humans would encourage the rebirth of innovation right across the known universe. We will find ourselves at a permanent disadvantage when competing with the younger races. Our industries will be unable to compete. We’ll be unable to offer resistance if - when - they push their way into our space.”

  She looked from one to the other. “We have no choice. We must win.”

  “You paint a grim picture,” Coordinator Hakav said.

  “It’s the truth and you know it,” Neola said. “How hard is it, even now, to get the bureaucracy moving in the right direction? We have been breeding innovation, daring and even ambition out of our people for thousands of years. We have imposed so many barriers to mental development that even I found it hard to think outside the box. How many of us had the wit to think about overthrowing the oldsters and the nerve to carry it out?”

  “You,” Coordinator Hakav said.

  “Just me,” Neola confirmed. “And it was laughably easy, once I’d had the idea. But it wasn’t easy to get that far.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve studied human history, what little they have,” she said. “Change is a constant. Even their oldest empires rarely lasted long, by our standards, and they kept changing from birth to death. The pace of change is so rapid that even they have concerns about it. We will be unable to compete, on a level playing field. We don’t have time to revitalise our own people. Even trying is likely to make sure we fail.”

  “And so the humans will destroy us,” Coordinator Hakav said.

  “Unless we stop them now.” Neola looked up. “I want a full state of emergency. We call up everyone, put them to work. The entire planet goes into lockdown - all alien workers are kept under tight control - and all resources are devoted to the coming battle. This battle is for everything. Either we win or ...”

  “We take your point,” Coordinator Hakav said.

  “Then you have to understand,” Neola said. “The time for petty bickering is over. The humans could be here tomorrow. And we have to be ready.”

  She stood. “Do I have your support? Or will you try to impede me one final time?”

  Coordinator Hakav and Admiral Kyan exchanged glances. Neola kept her face impassive, wondering which of them would be the first to speak. Or, perhaps, to draw up contingency plans for a human victory. She didn’t mind, even though it smacked of defeatism. If they didn’t win the coming battle, they were doomed anyway. And she’d be dead. She was sure of it. Victory or death were the only two options for her, now. She wouldn’t survive another defeat.

  “You do,” Admiral Kyan said. “We’ll support you completely.”

  “Good,” Neola said. “Now, here is what we’re going to do ...”

  She started to outline her plan, knowing that it might not be enough. The gargantuan industries of Tokomak Prime were already churning out hundreds of thousands of weapons - and millions of missiles, railgun pellets and mines - but they just didn’t have the time to deploy them. The orders she’d already issued, when she’d assessed the situation, barely scratched the surface of what needed to be done. And the bureaucrats had tried to get in her way. She scowled, baring her teeth. Any bureaucrat who tried to get in her way now wouldn’t live to regret it.

  And if we don’t stop the human fleet, she told herself as her eyes strayed to the blank display, none of us will live to regret it.

  ***

  Hameeda couldn’t help herself. She gave Piece a hug as soon as he and his marine companions materialised onboard the LinkShip, despite amused glances from the marines and a handful of comments she chose not to hear. They’d probably realised what she and Piece had been doing when she’d sneaked into the system ... she put the thought aside, firmly. It didn’t matter. Her people normally didn’t care what other people did, as long as it was between consenting adults in private. Too many of Earth’s problems had grown out of idiots minding the business of other idiots.

  “Welcome onboard,” she said, to the marines. “I’m afraid we’re a little short of space.”

  “We’ve been in worse places,” the lead marine said. He was a towering black man with a nasty-looking scar on his face. “When will we be linking up with Defiant?”

  “Defiant is on the way to Tokomak Prime,” Hameeda said. The entire system had heard the message that had made the Tokomak break off and flee back to their homeworld. It was just a shame Admiral Teller hadn’t had a chance to organise pursuit, in all the chaos. The Galactics deserting their former masters had made it hard to tell who was friendly and who was hostile. “I think we’ll be heading there shortly ourselves.”

  The marine nodded. “Where should we dump our kit?”

  “I’ve opened the hold for you,” Hameeda said. She directed the LinkShip to move out of orbit and head to the fleet. “I’m sorry about the facilities.”

  “Like I said, we’ve been in worse places,” the marine said. “Right now, a cold hard deck with no one shooting at us seems like a great idea.”

  “And we might get to Tokomak Prime before the shooting stops,” Piece said. “You might wind up being the first on the ground.”

  The marine shot him a sharp look. “Not for a while, I think.”

  Hameeda directed them down the corridor, then looked at Piece. “What happened?”

  Piece sighed. “They’re used to nice clean wars, with the good guys and the bad guys clearly differentiated,” he said. “They don’t like wars where good guys can become bad guys at a moment’s notice and the oppressed become the oppressors when they finally get their hands on the whip. They spent the last two days protecting enemy civilians from the mobs and desperately trying to ready a defence if Admiral Teller lost the battle. I think they’re a little worn down.”

 
; He snorted. “And a little sick of me too.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Hameeda said, as she led him into the galley. “What now?”

  “I don’t know,” Piece said. “Admiral Teller assigned a representative to handle things here and further our alliances with the locals, but ... the provisional government might not last. It was composed of factions that had nothing in common, beyond hating their masters. And now their masters are gone.”

  “Ah,” Hameeda said. “Welcome to the People's Front of Judea! The only people we hate more than the Romans are the fucking Judean People's Front.”

  “Exactly.” Piece smiled, tiredly. “Hopefully, the threat of being hung separately will keep them hanging together long enough to batter out an acceptable compromise. Or at least keep them from starting a civil war before the real war is over.”

  Hameeda considered it. “Is that what happens when people live on a planet?”

  “It happened on Earth, before the Solar Union,” Piece said. “As long as there are limits to resources, or the appearance of limits, people keep scrabbling over them. And when there’s nowhere to go to get away from everyone else ...”

  He laughed, harshly. “I suppose the real lesson of the Solar Union is that we can all get along, as long as there are a few hundred thousand kilometres or even a light year or two between us.”

  Hameeda poured them both coffee, then sat down. The LinkShip was catching up with the fleet, which was securing the gravity point and pouring into Gateway. The defenders on both sides of the gravity point hadn’t put up much of a fight, if only because they’d been manned by Galactics who simply wanted to go home. Admiral Teller had been happy to accept their surrender, hoping to save time. The Tokomak fleet - what was left of it - had simply kept running. Hameeda hoped it wouldn’t get to Tokomak Prime before Admiral Stuart turned the enemy homeworld into ash.

  She ran through the simulations, but drew a blank. There were just too many unknowns. Admiral Stuart could have crossed the gulf between Crux and Tokomak Prime by now, depending on what assumptions she fed into the simulators, or she might still be in transit. It was just possible the Tokomak would get there first. They were crossing a far greater distance, but thanks to the gravity points they could jump hundreds of light years in a single bound. It was hard to believe Tokomak Prime would surrender in a hurry. The system was so heavily defended that it would be a very hard nut to crack.

  Although if we cut them off from the rest of the universe, she thought, their empire is doomed anyway.

  A message appeared in front of her, from Admiral Teller. She scanned it rapidly, then ordered the LinkShip to increase speed. Admiral Teller intended to chase the enemy fleet all the way back to Tokomak Prime, to harass the enemy and - hopefully - reinforce Admiral Stuart when she hit the system. Hameeda wasn’t sure they’d get there in time, but it hardly mattered. If nothing else, a human fleet rampaging through the oldest known gravity point chain would make it clear the Tokomak had lost control.

  “We’re going to Tokomak Prime,” she said. “Or at least I am. What about you?”

  “I haven’t had any orders,” Piece said. “I’m happy to stay with you, if the Admiral has no objections, or go where he sends me. Right now, I’m pretty much useless.”

  “Not useless,” Hameeda said.

  “I might as well be,” Piece told her. “Back there” - he jerked a finger towards the bulkhead - “they don’t need a covert operative any longer. There’s a formal ambassador now, to all intents and purposes. I might just get recalled to Earth. They owe me about a year of decompression time and shore leave before I get reassigned.”

  Hameeda lifted her eyebrows. “And what will you do afterwards?”

  “I have no idea.” Piece finished his coffee and put the mug aside. “There’ll always be work for people like me. Perhaps I’ll be sent back out here, as the post-war government sorts itself out. Perhaps I’ll be assigned to a world that remains under Tokomak control, with orders to cause trouble for them. Or ... I don’t know. People with my sort of skills are rare.”

  “Not as rare as LinkShip pilots,” Hameeda said.

  “At least you deal with humans,” Piece retorted. “Do you know how easy it is to really mess up when you’re dealing with aliens? It’s like walking through a minefield when you know the mines are there, but you don’t know where they are. What we consider socially acceptable is utterly unacceptable to them, and vice versa. And there are so many alien races that it’s impossible to generalise.”

  He smiled. “The Tokomak didn’t care,” he added. “But they had enough firepower and arrogance to make sure they didn’t have to care.”

  Hameeda finished her coffee. “It can’t be that bad,” she said. “Really?”

  “It is.” Piece chuckled. “There’s a race with an unpronounceable name that has the strongest taboos against eating in public. To eat together is the height of intimacy, to the point that suggesting someone goes to a restaurant is pretty much akin to suggesting someone should visit a brothel. But sex? They’ll quite happily have it in public, any way you like.”

  “There are humans who’d think that sounds like a great idea,” Hameeda said.

  “And they’re not the worst,” Piece told her. “There are races that have intelligent males and unintelligent females ... and others that are precisely the same, with the roles reversed. Races with three or more genders, races that have rules so strange we can barely grasp they exist and cannot understand them at all ... and they’re all jammed together, thanks to the Galactics. It isn’t easy to keep them all going in the same direction.”

  He peered into the future. “The Tokomak did it by force,” he said. “I wonder what we’re going to do.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  There was a sense of quiet desperation in the air.

  Neola sat in her CIC, watching her staffers as they scrambled to obey her orders and prepare the fleet for what might be its final battle. Thousands of warships - and hundreds of thousands of civilian ships - held station near the homeworld, millions of crews, dockyard workers and conscripted civilians rushing desperately to get the fleet ready before the human ships arrived. Neola was proud of her people, proud of what they could do when their back was against the wall, yet ... she tried hard to keep her doubts to herself. If she lost control of the system, even if she didn’t lose the homeworld, she would almost certainly lose everything. The empire would shatter into a thousand pieces as hundreds of different races started pulling it apart.

  She glared at the latest set of updates. The Harmonies had formally declared their independence, even though they’d been the most loyal of allies only a few short weeks ago. The others were being a little more circumspect, as if they couldn’t quite believe the Tokomak era was over, but she had no trouble reading between the lines. Gravity points were being closed, messages requesting help were going unanswered ... they were hedging their bets, ready to make their peace with the humans if they won the war. And as more and more gravity points were lost, communications with the remainder of the empire were lost along with them. She didn’t know what was happening across the stars, but she could guess. An empire that was hundreds of thousands of years old was finally collapsing under the forces unleashed by the human race.

  Perhaps we should never have waged war on them, she thought, grimly. Or perhaps we should have committed a larger fleet to strike their homeworld when the war began.

  She quietly reviewed all the decisions that had been made, when the humans impinged on their awareness, but found no fault in them. The humans had been a threat, yet ... they’d thought they could manage the human threat. There had been no suggestion, then or ever, that they might have bitten off more than they could chew. There had been no reason to believe that a race that had only been in space for a hundred years, using technology stolen from a bunch of scavengers, could possibly pose a serious threat. But the humans had actually managed to understand the technology they’d stolen, something that most pr
imitive races found impossible. And understanding was the key to improving. She looked into the future and saw nothing but darkness. Things were going to change, no matter who won ...

  An alarm chimed. Red icons appeared in front of her.

  “Your Majesty,” her aide said, formally. “The enemy fleet has been detected. They’ll enter the system in less than an hour.”

  “Bring the fleet to alert,” Neola ordered. The human ships were flying in close formation, accepting the risks in order to confuse her sensors. “And prepare to meet the enemy.”

  She nodded to herself as the display updated, revealing a second fleet following the first. A fleet train? Or ... or what? The humans wouldn’t split their fleet, not when it would give her a chance to smash one formation before turning her attention to the other. She eyed it warily, then glanced at the updates from the analysts. There were upwards of four thousand human ships bearing down on her.