ARMS For Eternity: (Book 8)

by Stephen Arseneault

  "Let's go."

  The run back toward Human space had the second Crissen fleet showing on the nav display. Another five thousand ships. Their trajectory would take them directly into the boson field surrounding the Human sector.

  Harris said, "I guess we go home to warn the others."

  Tawn grabbed his forearm. "Not so fast. Take us out to that Frizoid base where we saw the sixty thousand ships."

  "That's six days from here."

  "We have the time."

  Another run showed the Frizoid fleet was also on the move. As the Bangor headed toward Midelon, they detected the massive fleet. It would arrive in boson space in forty-two days.

  After landing, Tawn and Harris made their way into the colonel's office. "Have a seat."

  Tawn plopped down in a chair. "They're all headed here, Colonel."

  Harris remained standing, grasping the back of a chair with his hands. "Sixty-thousand Frizoid. Thirteen thousand Crissen. Who wants to bet there's not a Burrell fleet heading this way too?"

  "That's all we need."

  The colonel leaned forward. "The Frizoid I understand. They feel betrayed, even though they didn't live up to their end of the bargain. Why would the Crissen come this way?"

  Tawn crossed her arms. "I hope our kind gesture to the diplomat didn't doom us. All we need is one more behemoth species wanting this space."

  "Could be the only reason we're alive is we lack the means to fight. Maybe losing everything to the Burrell will play out in our favor."

  Harris shook his head. "It’ll get us all conscripted is what it will do. With those three empires fighting each other, I can see them all doubling their efforts to get us subdued, trained, and fighting for one of them."

  Idiot came over the comm. "Sir, I've detected a large fleet entering boson space."

  "What? That fast? Those fleets aren't expected for another six weeks."

  "It appears to be Burrell ships, sir."

  "How many?"

  "Still coming in. Over five thousand so far."

  "Colonel, if the Burrell are here, they can come all the way to this planet."

  Tawn said, "The Frizoid tried. They got sent back."

  "The Frizoid only sent a few hundred ships. Idiot, how many ships at once can you prevent from entering the protected space of this planet?"

  "Approximately fifteen hundred, sir."

  Harris began to pace. "If any of those fleets come directly here, they may be able to come straight through. And once they make it inside free space they can't be swept away at all."

  The colonel stood. "The stasis warehouse has a wormhole generator. We can take it anywhere in boson space we want."

  "I think you should make the move, Colonel. Take the fleet out beyond the edge, toward Gianus. I know Bax may be out there, but we'll have to live with that. We should have enough spare pods now for you and the other bios to use. You might want to load them onto the transport you have. If we have to run, we won't have food to keep three thousand Bios alive and kicking for more than a few weeks."

  "Agreed. I'll get my staff working on that immediately."

  Tawn said, "So that's it then. We take all our assets and the people we have away from this planet. That include all the bots?"

  Idiot came over the comm. "I have a final count, sir. Just over forty-six thousand Burrell cruisers, and another three thousand transports. In support, there are just over sixteen thousand freighters. And I have a destination. It's New Earth, sir."

  Harris replied, "Order all bots to cease work on New Earth. Bring them all back here and start winding down all production. Anything that can be completed today, we finish. Everything else we scrap. And I want all critical components that aren't in use scrapped."

  Tawn added, "We should destroy all our facilities too. Or at least set up a self-destruct so they don't fall into the hands of others."

  The colonel nodded. "Good thinking by both of you. It's time we shut this place down. Anyone opposed to a move out to Gianus?"

  "Not me."

  Harris shook his head. "No opposition here. Let's just hope we have a full day to get this all done."

  "Sir," Idiot said, "I detect a small fleet of a hundred ships breaking off from the main Burrell fleet. I have a heading lock. It's Domicile."

  Harris gestured toward the door. "Miss Freely, you interested in seeing a fight between the Frizoid and the Burrell?"

  Tawn stood. "I sure am."

  The flight to Domicile took fifteen minutes. The Bangor slowed to a stop just as a hundred wormholes opened. The Burrell fleet came through. The small Frizoid fleet moved out to meet them. Both sets of warships stopped short of each other.

  Tawn said, "Uh oh. That doesn't look good."

  "What are they doing?"

  "Hang on. There's a general comm open. Gah, they just switched. Farker, think you can break in for us?"

  "I will try."

  Harris said, "You think this is the beginning of an alliance against the Crissen?"

  "Possibly. I just hope it's not some three-way alliance or truce that leaves us as nothing more than a slave species."

  "Now there's a pleasant thought. All three together against us. It would definitely be time to leave this sector of the galaxy. Give us a year with the bots, pods, and new hop-drive, and we'd be ready to move along. We could relocate everyone, build cities, set up farms and infrastructure, then pull them out of stasis into their new free life."

  Tawn chuckled. "We gonna call this new planet Utopia?"

  "Might not be a bad idea."

  "Heck, we could call it Gruberg for all I care."

  Harris slowly nodded. "Gruberg. Homeworld to all Humans. I like it."

  Farker said, "I have a connection. Patching it through."

  An image of a Frizoid commander came up on the display, followed by a split screen showing a Burrell admiral.

  The admiral waved his hand. "Your fleet is on the way. Sixty thousand warships, or so we've been told. Our fleet of forty-six thousand just arrived. We have a secondary fleet of another twenty-one thousand coming in three days. At the moment it's a race between yours and the Crissen. If they arrive first, you will have to abandon this place until your fleet is here. To do otherwise is certain death. The Crissen warships are powerful."

  "We will not move until we're ordered to do so."

  "That is your prerogative, Commander. I am only here as an advance team to give you a warning. No sense in either of our peoples dying needlessly when we're both faced with this same threat. I sent you the message from your fleet commander. You can act or not act on it. It is your decision."

  The comm closed. The hundred-ship Burrell fleet turned and jumped away.

  Tawn frowned. "Don't need those two allying against us."

  Harris turned the Bangor. A wormhole jump had them back in Midelon space. Ten minutes later, they were walking into the colonel's office.

  Harris said, "We have good news and bad news. The good is that the Burrell and Frizoid are enemies of the Crissen. The bad is they are allying together to defeat the Crissen."

  "Colonel…" Tawn sat. "We'll be facing more than a hundred thousand warships. Both the Frizoid and Burrell are sending major fleets."

  Harris let out a long breath as he sat. "I'm half tempted to fly out and warn the Crissen. Might be the thing we need to get on their good side. It would be nice to have a powerful ally of our own."

  The colonel tapped his fingers on his desk as he thought. "That might not be a good idea. If the Crissen know what's coming, they might just turn and leave. Where does that leave us?"

  "Leaves us right where we are. Look, if the two mortal enemies, the Frizoid and the Burrell, are joining forces against the Crissen, there must be real fear there. And from what Tawn and I saw at Maufree, they should be scared. Those Crissen ships dished out some hurt and were extremely tough to kill. We're talking at least a ten-to-one kill ratio."

  Tawn nodded. "I have to agree with him. We deliver this warning and we
might just make a friend. If they turn back, well, we might see the Frizoid and Burrell turn on each other. The loser of that fight might just be weak enough for us to take on ourselves."

  The colonel rubbed his forehead. "Looks like either option has risk. I suppose if you feel the opportunity is there to make an ally, you should go for it. You should know, we'll be gone when you return. All but Alex. He's vowing to stay."

  "He can't stay. He knows too much. They would torture him to no end to get it. Then we lose our only advantages."

  "Go." The colonel stood. "Make your run. I'll see to it the good doctor comes with us, even if I have to carry him on my shoulder."

  Harris opened a comm. "Idiot, what is the possibility of moving the archive to a ship?"

  "I would have to detach, and the storage system would have to be dismantled. Designate a ship and I'll give a firm estimate of time."

  "The colonel's transport."

  "Seven hours to dismantle. A quarter hour to move. And ten hours to reconstruct, provided the ship's power has adequate supply."

  "You have the specs?"

  "I do. The ten hours is a solid estimate."

  "Good. Make it happen. We're leaving Midelon."

  "Is that wise, sir?"

  "You can only stop fifteen hundred ships from coming here at a time. We'll soon have a hundred thousand that will want to do just that. Pack your bags, Idiot. You'll be living on the colonel's transport with the Biomarines in about seven hours."

  "Is this a priority move, sir?"

  "It is."

  The comm closed.

  Harris sighed. "Let's go, slim."

  Tawn chuckled. "Slim?"

  "You're at a hundred five kilos. That's the skinniest you've been since I've known you."

  "Well, thank you, Mr. Gruberg. It's been many years since Tawn Freely was acquainted with slim."

  "Yeah, well, let's not be too proud of our continued weakening."

  The Bangor lifted up through the Midelon sky as a fireball. Six days of travel were spent before the Crissen fleet was momentarily detected on the sensors as it jumped past in the other direction. A quick turn and short run had the Bangor on the same jump sequence and within comm range.

  Tawn asked. "You know what you're gonna say?"

  Harris chuckled. "Yeah. Help us… please."

  "I'm serious."

  "So am I. Look, I'll admit, I'm winging it here. But the message is pretty simple: it's a trap—we hope you can somehow still help us."

  A hail was sent over a general comm. Several seconds passed before a connection was returned.

  "Who are you?"

  "Sorry, sir, or ma'am—I don't know your gender... rank. I'm Harris Gruberg. A Human. Not long ago, I rescued one of your diplomats. Rithop was her name."

  "And what is your business here? How did you happen across our jumps?"

  "We came here specifically to see you. To warn you."

  "To warn us?"

  "Yes. When you reach our space, Human space, there are a hundred thousand Frizoid and Burrell warships waiting for you."

  The officer turned to the staff standing beside him. "Excellent, the Frizoid came. This will be one for the historical archives."

  "Are you meeting with these ships or fighting them? Because at the moment they're under the impression there's going to be a fight."

  "I am Captain Monumon. And yes, there will be a fight. A glorious fight for the ages. The enemies of the Crissen will be crushed in one colossal battle."

  Harris frowned. "Hmm, I hate to break it to you, sir, but that is not the entire fleet of those two species. They have many such fleets of equal size—from our understanding of course."

  "The fur-covered savages and their insectoid friends will be the first to feel the wrath of the Monumon fleet."

  "The Monumon fleet?"

  "Yes, my personal fleet. These are my ships."

  Tawn raised a hand. "Tawn Freely, sir. Uh, is that common among the Crissen? Private militaries?"

  "Yes, for conquest. The defense fleets are for already conquered Crissen worlds."

  "So you're like mercenaries out here? For this attack?"

  "The territories we conquer will be ours to govern. A generous tax will be paid back to the Crissen Empire. What's left is ours to leave or take, to invest in or squander. Once the remittance has been made to the empire, we are free to do as we wish. In five standard cycles, an annual tax will be levied and the empire's defense forces will be moved in. By then I will have moved on to a new conquest. I've had good reports from the Frizoid Communion. Much wealth to be had."

  "What about the Burrell?"

  "Those territories will be sought after by my brother, Willen Monumon. We are the greatest fighting family the galaxy has ever known."

  Harris said, "You don't seem to be anything like Rithop."

  Klof Monumon gave a huff. "Those meditating fools are why we don't rule this galaxy. They control the people, and with that the rules. It's taken nine cycles to get permission for expansion. I have a costly fleet that I have to maintain, warriors I have to pay. I suppose I can thank the Burrell for their raid on Maufree. And I can thank you, Mr. Gruberg, for bringing back a diplomat who had the fortitude to stand before the Grand Council and call for retribution. You've removed the chains that have kept my family bound."

  "You aren't worried about the size of the fleet you'll be facing?"

  "Not in the least. Their captains are poorly trained, their shields are weak, and their weapons are only effective when we've run out of fuel for our shields. Unfortunately, the ships and forces at Maufree maintained the minimum capacity in their storage tanks. Ours are full."

  "Your shields require some kind of fuel? Not just ship's power?"

  Klof hesitated. "I shall speak no further of this. And, Mr. Gruberg, I pride myself in fairness and compassion. Your people will be treated well if they comply with my rules and laws. If not... punishment will be swift and sure."

  "I had hoped my prior gesture would put us in good standing with your empire, and that perhaps we could turn an initial trade alliance into something more."

  Klof smirked. "Please, Mr. Gruberg, you're a species who cannot defend themselves. We only trade with the wealthy. We only ally with the strong. Humans are neither. It's my understanding that the Frizoid are currently in control of your capital?"

  "Temporarily. That will be remedied soon enough."

  "I'm sorry for your weakness, Mr. Gruberg. Perhaps your people and mine could have at some point been friends and allies... but for now and the foreseeable future you will be subjects of the Monumon household."

  Harris pursed his lips. "I must go, Klof. Perhaps one day we will meet again under better circumstances."

  The comm closed.

  Tawn shook her head. "He's sure full of himself."

  "Yeah, well, at the moment he's got reason. I was hoping to possibly join forces with them. Now I think we'll have to pick and choose which side we join, if we join either."

  "What are you saying?"

  "I'm saying if the Crissen are winning big, maybe we throw some aid the way of the Frizoid and Burrell."

  "You want both forces depleted by the end of the fight?"

  Harris nodded. "You're catching on, Freely. Keep up the good work."

  — Chapter 16 —

  * * *

  The Bangor landed in the grass beside the bunker.

  Tawn said, "Gone already. Good stuff. Not seeing any bios."

  "Doesn't look like they destroyed anything."

  "Must have had their reasons. The target planet is a short ride. Let's head out."

  Harris stopped. "It's called Gianus. Let's call it by its name. Too many target planets."

  Tawn chuckled. "Sorry, didn't realize a couple planet names would get you so confused."

  "Every time you say ‘target,’ I have to stop and think about where you're talking about."

  Tawn stared at Harris' head. "What's it like being trapped inside there?"

/>   Harris walked from the hatch to his chair. "Great most of the time. It does have its moments though."

  Tawn stood in the hatch looking out at the green grass surrounding the bunker entrance. "I almost want to miss this place."

  Harris sat, powering up the console. "I'd say it's about the only thing that's kept our butts alive. That and we're Biomarines."

  "Yeah." The hatch was slid shut and sealed. "She's been a good hideout. Hope Gianus offers as much security."

  A major wormhole hop, followed by a number of smaller ones, had the Bangor moving into Gianus space. Minutes later, a comm directed them to the coordinates of a temporary encampment on the planet's surface. The bots were already busily at work constructing a building with materials that had been packed aboard the transport.

  Trish, Gandy, Garvis and Sharvie came out to meet them.

  Gandy asked, "Did you find them?"

  Harris stepped down onto moss covered ground. Low shrubs dotted the landscape around them.

  "We found them. They want Humans as pets just like the rest of them. They do intend on fighting the Frizoid and Burrell for us though. We'll be heading back in a few days to lay out a few probes. Might be useful to know the happenings for when we're not there."

  "I've been saying that for several years now."

  Harris nodded. "I guess you have. Looks like we have some housing coming up. Where's the colonel?"

  "He went into stasis with the others. Said you'd wake him when it was appropriate."

  "All of them went under?"

  "All."

  "Was expecting him and his staff to remain out here."

  "He said he didn't want to waste food. And he trusted the judgment of you two."

  Tawn chuckled. "His mistake."

  "We saw the fleet up there when we were coming in. The pods all functioning properly?"

  "Two million, eight hundred and fifty-six. Hard to believe we were able to pull that off."

  "Final counts on Banshees, missiles, and bots?"

  "Fourteen thousand fifty-nine. About fifty-eight thousand missiles. One hundred eight thousand bots, give or take a few. We brought all the processor benches with us. We know they won't work out here, but we didn't want to leave them behind."

  Tawn asked, "I thought we were going to destroy everything so it couldn't be used by our enemies? It all looked to be intact."