ARMS For Eternity: (Book 8)

by Stephen Arseneault

  A pause was followed by a polite applause.

  "As Earthlings, or as we like to call our species, Humans, we have come to occupy this sector of the galaxy. It's become our home and our lives. Being Human is what we are. And what we are today are victors!"

  The applause grew.

  "As you know, the Biomarines were genetically engineered. We were raised and trained to fight war. We're sworn to protect Domicile and all her citizens and all the citizens of the free colonies… and that's what we've done... because we're also citizens. We're Humans. And the war fought and the victory won was for all of us. The ships we used, the Domer military that sacrificed itself, and all those here who toiled to make it all possible, this recent victory is our victory. It's your victory. It's a victory for all humanity."

  A healthy applause followed. Harris turned to see Tawn patting her hand over a wide-open mouth as if attempting to keep herself awake with a yawn. As he began to turn back, an aide touched the President on the shoulder, whispering in his ear.

  The President’s gleeful smile turned to a stoic expression of concern.

  Harris leaned in close. "Sir? Everything OK?"

  Armstrong uttered a single word. "Frizoid."

  — Chapter 2 —

  * * *

  Harris cut his speech short, only reading off the closing line. He bowed to a light applause and moved away from the mic.

  Tawn asked. "What's our plan?"

  "We go out to see what's happening. I'll meet you back at the Bangor."

  "Where you going?"

  "To put on my battlesuit. Not going out to fight looking like this."

  Tawn chuckled. "Don't think we'll be doing any fighting. Not with the minimal fleet we currently have. Let's just go observe. And the sooner the better."

  The duo hustled to the tarmac as the President concluded the speeches and began kicking off the celebration.

  A comm came in from Armstrong as Harris powered up the Bangor. "Give us status as soon as you know anything. We have two other ships heading that way."

  "Pull them back if you can," replied Harris. "We can go in stealth. I'd rather not lose anyone before we have a chance to assess this."

  The President turned toward an aide and then back. "Consider it done. Initial word is from Viochan. It's a force of twenty-six thousand ships."

  Harris stared for several seconds. "If that's true, we'll have no choice but to surrender."

  Tawn said, "Before that happens, we should move our current assets to Midelon. And we should start shipping as much of the production materials there as we can. If you have to surrender here, that planet might be our only hope."

  Armstrong nodded. "Agreed. I'll have a discussion with Bannis Morgan about this when we're done with this comm."

  "Not certain what else we can offer at this point, sir. Until we know the full extent of this force, and their intent, we aren't gonna know how to best deal with them."

  The discussion ended as the Bangor moved out toward free space. A jump to the far parts of the Viochan system was made. Sub-light travel took the ship into sensor range.

  "We're blacked out and the interference signal is running." Tawn said.

  "Those don't look anything like the Hoya ships."

  "A giant bottlebrush."

  "What?"

  "They look like giant bottlebrushes," said Tawn. "That slim twisted hull coming forward. All those spines coming out toward the back. A bottlebrush."

  Harris chuckled. "If you say so... Captain! We're under attack by a fleet of bottlebrushes! They're scouring our forces!"

  "OK, smartass. How would you describe them?"

  "Cactus on a stick?"

  Tawn laughed. "And you snickered at mine? That's just lame."

  "When's the last time you felt uneasy about a bottlebrush? A cactus? Nobody wants to tangle with that."

  "If you say so."

  "Curious as to what their weapons... wait. This is not happening."

  "What?"

  Harris pointed at the nav display. "Right there. The Fargo. Bax is right in the middle of that fleet."

  Tawn stared for several seconds. "How does she keep doing that?"

  Harris let out a long slow breath as he shook his head. "She doesn't give up. Have to give her credit for that."

  Tawn brought up the comm display. "What are the chances she's still using the same comm channel?"

  "She's been sloppy before. Which I don't understand, given her attention to detail on getting things done. Of course, knowing her, maybe she gets her jollies by knowing we're listening in."

  A dual image came up on the display. "Miss Rumford, the diplomatic council has decided to hear your proposal. Please proceed to the Molopas for docking. An escort will be waiting in the second bay for your arrival."

  "Thank you, Sonre. I will be there momentarily."

  The comms closed.

  "Crap." Tawn scowled. "Back to being blind."

  "You see those Frizoid?" Harris frowned. "Bizarre looking. Like an ant that's standing up. Only with no abdomen."

  "And that face looks like a puffer-fish. Bulgy eyes... not the most attractive species we've seen."

  Harris chuckled. "You talking about that vast number of four species we've come in contact with?"

  "Just saying that's an ugly bug. The Denzee, except for their queen maybe, weren't bad looking creatures. The Burrell at least have fur. How can you not like fur?"

  Harris stared for several seconds. "Haven't seen you snuggling up to any boglers. Hey, maybe they'd have been more repulsive had they been flying around in bottlebrushes."

  "I can't even carry on a normal conversation with you anymore."

  Harris tilted his head to one side. "I just realized the Frizoid are speaking standard English. Why is it every one of these species knows that?"

  Tawn looked over the console. "Bax's channel passed us the translator algo for them. Probably why we can't really see mouths moving. They may not be vocal. Could be an interpretation from those antennas or something."

  "That's just dumb."

  Tawn looked intently at Harris for several seconds. "If you say so."

  Farker said, "Sir, ma'am, should I attempt to break into their comms? Our methods have not been attempted against the Frizoid security. It's possible there may be vulnerabilities."

  "Sure, go ahead. Just don't give them reason to start looking for us."

  Harris rubbed the back of his neck. "A crack isn't likely to get us into any council chamber where they're meeting."

  "The fleet is big," Farker replied. "I would expect the meeting to be broadcast to a number of ships for observance. Perhaps we can gain entry through one of those channels?"

  Tawn nodded. "I'm with the dog. It's at least worth a try."

  Harris looked down at the robotic pet. "You've been making suggestions lately. Why is that?"

  "I don't know how to answer that other than to say Mr. Gaerten made several updates to my reasoning algorithms. When back on Midelon, I find myself searching the archives for answers to questions that are generated from the new code. I somehow find it gratifying when I find a reasonable answer."

  "Give me an example of one of those self-generated questions."

  Tawn said, "Uh, can we focus on the catastrophe floating before us?"

  Harris looked back at the display. "Sorry. Farker, make getting access to the Frizoid communications your top priority."

  "Yes, sir."

  Tawn leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "She's got guts. No way I'd stroll into the middle of that fleet like that. She has a weak hand at the moment."

  "The Frizoid may not know that."

  "They have to know that. Last time she met with them she had a huge fleet backing her up. What powerful leader would risk boarding one of those ships without having backup? I'd have to say she's in there offering her services for the coming takeover of this sector. Her bargaining chip would be knowing who she's dealing with on our end. Can't say that's a powerful hand sh
e's holding."

  "She can claim a defeat or holding off of the Burrell here. They might give her recognition for that."

  "Still weak, but true. Her record with us is a lot less flattering though."

  "The fights with us have been with a handful of ships. Hardly definitive of her qualifications."

  Tawn squinted an eye. "Why you defending her again?"

  "I'm not. Just trying to play the devil's advocate."

  "Exactly what I just said."

  Harris chuckled. "Wasn't intended as a defense. Just reasoning."

  Farker said, "I have access to a comm channel. The subjects on either end of the conversation appear to be discussing hygiene."

  "Don't think that's gonna help us much. Unless we're sitting next to them at dinner or something."

  "I'm attempting to break into the comm server from here... and I'm in. Scanning active channels for any coming from the Molopas. I show six active channels. Two are personal. One maintenance. Three are scrambled. I'm attempting a decrypt... successful."

  A split image appeared on the display. "Drooge has been marking the hallways again. Such a desperate move. No female will fall for such a scandalous move. He may as well be scenting the dining hall."

  A second Frizoid began to speak before the channel switched.

  Harris pulled back his head. "Wait, that was interesting."

  "You'd really rather see that than what Bax is up to?" Tawn asked with a sarcastic expression.

  "No. Can you record it though?"

  Farker replied, "All channels are being recorded for later analysis. I have the second channel available."

  An image of Bax appeared, seated on large cushions on the floor before four of the Frizoid diplomats. Three additional bugs sat to their side as observers.

  "Miss Rumford," the largest of the Frizoid asked, "what technologies can you bring to us in exchange for considering your requests?"

  "Uh, I have a Burrell transport. How are your drives as compared to what they have?"

  "Equal. Both sides deploy a similar short-hop drive."

  "I have the rail cannons of the Hoya. And the designs of the Denzee superweapon."

  "Are there no Human technologies?"

  "We were brought here by the Burrell. We've been fighting each other ever since. Our science is based on what they left for us. I do have technology we took from the Hoya. It interferes with sensors. We made a few updates. Is that something you already have?"

  "The Hoya technology came from us. If you have modifications to any of those technologies, those would be welcome. Any updates you can provide for any technology would be welcome."

  "I may be able to offer a few battle strategies as well. Would it be possible to review recordings of past fights between your fleets and the Burrell? Perhaps I can offer a few insights."

  The diplomat returned a polite smile. "Thank you for that kind offer, but our military command is quite capable of planning out our encounters with the Burrell. We've been fighting them for several thousand years."

  "I apologize if I sound condescending, but if the war has gone on that long, maybe it's not being fought with a winning strategy. And I say this as my own people have just come out of what appears to be a similar struggle. Both sides were content with the occasional small achievement rather than pushing for a complete victory."

  The diplomat nodded. "Again, the war fighting is left to the expertise of the warriors."

  A second diplomat spoke: "Miss Rumford, you have yet to tell us what it is you are seeking. What is your purpose for requesting this meeting?"

  "I will offer my full assistance... for which I would ask to be made governor of this sector and all Humans... as a subject of the Communion."

  "I see. And other than being a Human, why would we want to place you in that position?"

  "I know Humans. I know how they behave and how they act. I know what drives them. I also know what will keep them in line. I would assume you would want this sector producing for the Communion. I happen to be an excellent production manager. And I'm loyal. If given respect and responsibility, I will follow orders as given. I only ask that any suggestions I may have on how I carry out those orders be given the courtesy of a hearing if I deem it beneficial to the Communion."

  Bax gazed intently at the diplomats seated before her. "Look, you will want someone here to be in charge. Someone who can keep things in order. Someone who is committed to her work and not to having a luxurious or opulent lifestyle. And someone who will do their best to defend against the Burrell. That would be me."

  The sales-pitch continued for another twenty minutes before the meeting was concluded. Bax returned to the Fargo to wait for a response. The diplomats had promised a decision within half a standard day.

  Harris sat back in his chair. "Now we wait."

  "She left a lot out about herself and her current assets. She's playing fast and loose with a lot of readily available information."

  "She's just trying to buy time. If she has to, she'll send those bots off on their own with orders to not return until they have a hundred thousand ships ready."

  "Seventy thousand."

  "What?"

  "Seventy thousand ships. That's all she has cores for. Unless she lucks out and gets that processor station running."

  Harris reached up, scratching the side of his head. "I think her making a deal here is a mistake."

  "Why?"

  "Like you said, her current options are limited. Even if the Frizoid grant her request, she still has a set number of cores. If I were her, I'd take my ships and bots and head out to the uncharted stars. Take food for a couple years. Find a spot where you can mine and build factories and then ships. Return when you're ready."

  "It would be a complex mission to retake all this without endangering everyone. If she sticks with the Frizoid, she at least knows their strengths and weaknesses when it comes to this sector. Heck, we might have the Burrell coming in at any time with a new fleet. If she's there to advise the bugs, she has a chance of further cementing her position. If they lose, she can always retreat with her bots."

  Tawn chuckled. "Sounds like you have this all figured out."

  "Wish I could talk to her."

  Tawn pulled back. "What? Why?"

  "Because she's not the enemy of our kind. The bugs and the furballs are."

  "You aren't suggesting we help her, are you?"

  "Actually, I guess I am."

  Tawn rolled her eyes. "How many times you gonna let her burn you?"

  "If it protects everyone else? As much as I can take. We'll want to have a conversation with her when they're done here. That's if they let her go."

  "Back on the Bax wagon just that fast. You scare me sometimes, Gruberg."

  "Consider her a tool for us to use. If she joins the Frizoid, we'll have an insider who can keep us informed about what we're up against."

  Tawn shook her head. "Several big issues with your plan. One, she might not cooperate. And two, what happens if the Frizoid conscript our people into fighting their war? They could dump in ships by the thousands and force our people to train on them, ultimately forcing us into battle with the Burrell."

  "That's a big possibility. Hold on... I'm getting a hit on Bax's channel."

  "Miss Rumford, the council has decided in your favor. We will require several days to organize and fully define our contract with you. Once that is in place, we can begin efforts to bring all Human colonies into the Communion."

  "Perfect. May I have a day to go over this with my people? That will aide in the initial direction we take in bringing them all into the fold. Perhaps twelve hours could be spared before we begin? I'm in need of rest as well."

  "Twelve hours is granted. Return to this location at that time and we will begin discussions of how best to proceed."

  A grinning Baxter Rumford bowed. The comm closed and the Fargo was soon on the nav display as it exited the docking bay of the Frizoid command ship. After a short run to free space, a wo
rmhole was opened to a rocky, uninhabited planet in a system on the edge of boson space.

  Tawn gestured. "You want to talk? Now's your chance."

  The Bangor slowly maneuvered out beyond sensor range before performing a jump to Bax's location. The stealthy ship slowed to a stop as they came within comm range.

  Bax sighed as she looked into the comm camera. "You two never stop, do you?"

  "Bios don't quit," Tawn replied.

  "What is it you want?"

  "The Frizoid," Harris asked. "What are your intentions?"

  "Same as before. And if you're worried about the Frizoid... well, you should be. They take aliens such as ourselves and use them as their front-line troops in their fight with the Burrell and every other species they come in contact with. They were expecting to have to fight to conquer Humans and to then have to squash the usual resistance, which is typically made up of the best fighters. I gave them the option of a better solution. They're giddy at the moment."

  "And your better option, how's that better for the rest of us?"

  "They will bring in equipment and trainers. I hope to manage that effort, delaying readiness for as long as possible. In the meantime, my bots will build ships and missiles. When those are ready and our troops are trained, we kick the Frizoid out of our space, using my fleet and the one piloted by our people."

  "You're taking an awful big risk with the lives of all Humans."

  "Our choice is we do this ourselves or they come in and do it anyway. How well do you think we'll do against the Burrell? This is not my choice, but it is the best option we have."

  A finger was held up. "One moment..." The comm was muted and blanked.

  — Chapter 3 —

  * * *

  Harris turned to face his partner. "We have about eleven hours before she heads back to the bugs. Do we discuss this further? Do we check-in with Domicile and get a decision from them?"

  Tawn reopened the comm. "Bax? Why didn't you make mention of the bots? They have to know you have them."