Gandy nodded. "It's all wired to blow if a ship other than one of ours hits the atmosphere. You did notice the jump fuel tankers up there, right?"
"Yeah. Had a few thoughts earlier since we hadn't mentioned them as to whether or not they'd be forgotten."
"We're still good in jump fuel. And we brought enough material to build a mast and update the hop-drives on about half our ships."
"We were wondering if when the fighting starts, could we, or you, head back to New Earth to pick up the materials we need for a full conversion of all the ships. If they take out the boson field generator on Midelon, we'll be burning a lot of jump fuel to get around. We have a good supply, but we aren't making any more."
"I thought we had the equipment to make our own?"
"We do. But this place lacks the raw materials we need. We scanned for them. Not here. And we don't want to have to go to Midelon or back to anywhere else there to try to get them."
Gianus ran on sixteen hour days. It would take some getting used to. The plains where they had settled bordered dense forests that gave way to rocky, mountain peaks. Hundreds of small seas dotted the landscape from orbit. Creatures roamed the oceans as invertebrates. Scans from a shuttle revealed a multitude of small creatures in the shallows, but none that had come out onto land. Gianus was still in an early development stage.
Before the sun had set, the bots had the roof on the new habitat. A design plan was being followed. Tawn stood in wonder as she watched the interior plan being filled out by the bots. It was as if seeing a recorded image running in fast motion. As a final bunk was put in place and a blanket tucked and neatened, Idiot stepped in front of her.
"Miss Freely, welcome to your new home."
"I'm actually impressed it came together this quick."
"The design was ready and the materials were fashioned on the flight here."
"Nice work. Are you hooked to the archive still?"
"I am not. The archive remains disassembled on the transport. The stasis pods are using too much of the ship's power."
"I thought the pods didn't need power once you were under."
"They do not. But they do need power if you are to be brought back in a timely manner. The colonel made it clear he wanted that option available. So the pods are all using ship's power. Including those being used for the fleet."
"Can we build a generator down here?"
"The materials will need to be salvaged from boson space for that task to be undertaken."
"Do you have a list of what's needed?"
"I've just transferred it to your comm."
"Sun's going down and it's been a while since we've rested. Those bunks look decently comfortable. I think we'll make use of them right here and now. Harris! Get over here!"
A dozen quick steps had him by her side. "Yes."
"Time for some shut-eye. Looks like we've got a long day tomorrow. The bots have everything under control, and Trish and the others are here to keep watch for us. Tomorrow we go see about salvage runs."
The night passed while the bots worked on a second building, this one attached to the first. A warehouse, a meeting room, the dining hall, and a lab for Alex were slated to be built within it. The dining hall was first, and was completed just as Tawn and Harris arose.
Harris grabbed an MRE off a nearby stack. "You want one?"
"You know I do."
"Checked this morning. Dropped another kilo. Down to one-oh-one. Still working hard on the muscle mass."
"Same here. And I think I'm down another kilo myself. Not feeling the fatigue I was, so maybe this is just from less eating and regular workouts."
"Let's hope." Harris sat as he handed her an MRE. "What'd you get?"
"Bogler burgers. Nothing like making yourself dumb with breakfast."
"Don't think we have a choice now. Gotta keep up the protein if we want to rebuild muscle."
Alex sat beside them. "This planet is a temporary stop. I think we should be expedient about looking for a more permanent home."
"By tomorrow we'll have a dozen masted Banshees monitoring anything that comes from boson space. Given our speed advantage, we should have several hours to run if need be. Our ships are faster. At least most of them will be shortly. We have a decent food supply and there's only a handful of us who aren't in stasis."
Tawn said, "We're well stocked, but our supplies are limited. There are a dozen star systems within a week's travel that have likely candidates for at least a temporary settlement. Maybe we take another dozen Banshees and send them out?"
"I guess it doesn't hurt to know our options. Let's make it so."
"Wish we had this updated hop-drive a few months ago. That ship we sent to Earth would be back by now."
"Doesn't matter," Harris said. "We have no way to transport a billion Humans across the stars, especially when we don't even have access to them. Maybe this fight between the superpowers is exactly what we need. They knock each other down, we come in and finish the job. After that, we can build our transports and leave this space."
Tawn sighed. "Yeah, would be great if it works out like that. I just don't think it will. Each of those species has more fleets. A complete loss followed by an attack by us would have at least one of them eager to come in for the easy pickings."
Several weeks passed before the thirteen thousand ship Crissen fleet arrived. Tawn and Harris sat in silence in the Bangor, watching as the newly arrived fleet moved into an attack formation. On the other side, one hundred six thousand Frizoid and Burrell warships sat in wait.
Harris sat back in his chair, shaking his head. "Wow. That is just insane."
"Don't know that I like the Crissens’ odds. Especially with how cocky that captain was."
"He did seem overly confident."
"Hang on. We have a general hail coming in."
The display in front of them split into three sections. The Crissen captain, bold and smiling, occupied the left side of the display.
"Frizoid and Burrell, I welcome you to join with us as subjects of the Crissen Empire. If you find that invitation unsuitable, you are given the opportunity here and now to leave this space. Under the direction of the Grand Council, the Crissen Empire is claiming it as their own. I, Klof Monumon, have been given the charter to bring this sector under our control."
The figure in the image to the right spoke. "I am Vice-Admiral Clowola of the Frizoid Communion. You are in direct violation of our space. This sector is under the jurisdiction of the Communion. You are advised to return to the space from whence you came. We do not look for a quarrel, but we will defend our territorial rights."
The figure in the middle bowed. "I am Commander Tullous of the Burrell. This space has been claimed by the Burrell for more than two thousand years. We are here today to enforce that claim."
The Frizoid admiral replied, "That was not our agreement, Commander."
"You occupy our space, Admiral. We are giving you this one opportunity to leave our space."
An angry Frizoid replied, "This is outrageous. Treacherous. I should have expected such from a Burrell."
Tullous replied, "All forces, begin attacks."
Thousands of bright flashes filled the darkness of the void. Burrell and Frizoid ships clashed. The Crissen didn't hesitate to enter the fray, targeting only Frizoid ships.
Harris raised an eyebrow, "Wasn't expecting that. The Burrell are the ones who just attacked at Maufree. Unprovoked."
"They must have made a deal to take down the Frizoid. I think I might enjoy this."
"Wouldn't be so quick to praise. This fight will leave us with two enemies still here and still strong. Those Frizoid warships are already taking a beating."
"Two enemies is better than three, but I get what you're saying."
Several powerful energy beams passed by the Bangor. As a precaution, Harris moved the small freight-shuttle farther from the fight.
Plasma fire, laser pulses, railgun projectiles, and missiles, filled the space between the f
leets. In a surprise move, thousands of fighter craft emerged from the Frizoid ships. In kamikaze-like moves, the fighters that weren't destroyed on the way in attached themselves to the hulls of Burrell ships, detonating seconds later with powerful explosions that inflicted serious damage.
In addition, the Frizoid admiral ordered his ships into groups of three, a tactic the Burrell in stasis on the Grindle had called mini-pods. Each group would target a single Burrell cruiser, while ignoring all other activity surrounding them. At first the tactic seemed an effective and wise move. The advantage didn't last. A Crissen warship was dispatched to take on each mini-pod. The result was a one-for-one loss by the Frizoid to the Burrell, a loss rate they could not sustain.
As the tide again turned against the insectoid species, a new tactic and new weapon emerged. A second flood of fighter craft were released. This time, the explosive results of the small ships being detonated on the hull of the enemy were far more effective.
Tawn sat forward. "Those are nukes."
"Was wondering when someone was going to bring something like that out."
"Scary they're able to get those fighters all the way in against all those guns. Wouldn't have thought it possible."
"Sensors show there are bios on them. I’d hate to be wasting such crazy-good pilots."
"I have to think those are weapons of last resort."
Harris nodded. "Still, the Burrell are the ones taking the biggest beating here. Down over three thousand ships. Frizoid casualty count is nearing a thousand. Crissen stats show ninety-eight warships with heavy damage. None have been removed from battle."
The fight continued with Frizoid fighter pilots and captains showing themselves to be better than competent. The Burrell commanders time and again blundered, making careless mistakes.
A comm was intercepted as it connected between a Burrell captain and an assisting Crissen ship. "You aren't committing as agreed. You must move in closer and provide us with the protection we require from the fighters."
The Crissen captain replied, "Any closer and we risk our people. Gamma shielding is a current weakness with these ships."
Tawn tilted her head. "Why would you blurt that out to a potential enemy?"
"Heat of battle? Trying to make excuses?"
The battle had raged for over twenty minutes before the first Crissen warship was fully knocked from service. A fighter managed to fly beside a docking bay, where its nuclear payload detonated. It was obvious the interior of the bay was not shielded for radiation. Med teams were scrambled to assist the injured and dying.
With the new weakness revealed, the Crissen warships suddenly became vulnerable targets. Klof Monumon ordered his ships to withdraw to a safe distance, further exposing the Burrell to the Frizoid's wrath. The move brought a comm from the Frizoid admiral to the Burrell commander.
"We will not soon forget your treachery, but I am willing to let it pass should you return to our original agreement. Should we be victorious here today, perhaps agreements could be worked out between our governments, enabling us to push the Crissen from your space?"
The Burrell commander replied, "How do we know you can be trusted?"
"You don't. You only have my word. Look at your casualty figures, Commander. It's obvious the Crissen are using you to fight us while their own captain only minimally commits. I can at least assure you we will fully commit. Make the wise decision, Commander. Come to the winning side."
The decision was made without hesitation. The orders went out. Seconds later the Burrell fleet turned on their Crissen co-conspirators. Within minutes, a hundred Crissen warships had fallen, but not before taking a heavy toll of their own.
Harris said, "At one point I thought it might just be Humans, but it looks like betrayal is a universal trait."
"At least it's back to the fight we were expecting. The two sides are again somewhat balanced. This keeps up and we might actually have a chance of taking out the survivors."
"Let's hope. That would give us at least two months to try to do something."
"Two months gets us nothing."
Harris propped his feet up on the console. "Gets us two months. More than we have right now. Might give us a chance to salvage more building materials. We could at least outfit the fleet with masts for a long run elsewhere if necessary."
Tawn crossed her arms as she watched the carnage unfolding. "You think all three sides are readying more ships?"
"I would have to think so. Why commit to a fight like this without securing a victory if it's been had?"
"Should we go check?"
Harris put his feet down with a sigh. "We could make a run out to one base and back. But we'd probably miss the end of this fight. Not that we couldn't leave a probe and watch it all later, but what if the victor makes a move that affects us?"
Tawn pointed at the display. "Maybe the decision's been made for us. Look here, and here. Those ships seem like they're pulling back from the fight? At least partially?"
"You thinking things might slow down? I don't see this stretching out for three weeks. That's what we'd need to go check."
"No, I guess not. Hey, we could send out Banshees. Just give them orders to not be seen, or if they are, to avoid interaction."
Harris shook his head. "This is why the colonel should have stayed out of stasis. His people would have thought of this up front. Let's head back and make this happen. I want to swing by Midelon while we're going. I can't imagine the Burrell having not sent ships there."
The Bangor was moved out to a distance, where a wormhole could be opened without detection. The first jump was to Midelon space. Upon arrival, they found twenty thousand additional Burrell ships in orbit.
"Where'd those come from?" asked Tawn.
"Must have just arrived. Let's move in close enough to scan the surface. Should be easy to see whether or not our self-destructs went off."
"We just jumped, so the boson field is still operational."
"Wasn't part of the plan to destroy it."
"I have to wonder if it should have been. Would slow down movements by everyone else, giving us an advantage."
"Hmm. Good reasoning, Miss Freely. Where were those brains for sending out Banshee scouts?"
"Same place they've always been. Absent half the time."
"If we wanted to destroy that complex, what would you recommend?"
"Dropping a few hundred bots down at the cave. Give them orders to destroy everything. Shouldn't be hard for a handful to defend their position while they tear that place up from below."
Harris nodded. "I think we have our plan. Scan coming in."
"Nothing much left on the surface but the bunker. Looks like the triggers all worked."
"Let's head back for the scouts and a talk with the others. If agreed, we'll return here with a bot force."
— Chapter 17 —
* * *
Harris paced back and forth. "Question is, how do we get them to the surface when there's twenty thousand warships parked there?"
"We have the Grindle," Gandy said. "It's one of their ships. Why not send it in with our bots aboard?"
Harris stopped. "We could even bring back the Burrell from stasis. I like where this is going." He waved his hands in a twirling motion toward himself. "Keep those ideas coming."
"Could we hide the bots? Have them power up and sneak out once the Grindle is on the ground?"
Tawn asked, "How do we guarantee the Grindle even makes it to the ground? It would have to make it to the cave. Our bots would get annihilated if they had to go any distance on the ground to get there."
The options were discussed. The decision was made to not awaken the Burrell in stasis until they reached Midelon space. The ship would request to return to the underwater bay before the Burrell were conscious enough to interact with others. The mere presence of their bio-signatures without the presence of any others was guessed to be convincing enough.
At the last moment, the ship would divert to the cave with a
faked emergency. Only seconds would be needed for the bots to depart and enter. Once inside, the facility would be as good as destroyed.
Gandy sat with an unhappy look on his face. "I can't believe we're going to take it down. Won't be any turning back once we start."
Tawn said, "It was built before, it can be built again. All we need is time and freedom."
"I guess. Just seems like a terrible waste of such a valued asset."
"It loses all its worth when it's being used by the enemy. While valuable, and probably difficult to replace, it's no different than losing a warship. If it's now being used against you, you're better off doing away with it. Tough decision, but easily logical."
"I suppose. I don't like the fact we're losing the Grindle either. It's been useful for hauling materials. We really do need to build another freighter. The Frizoid boat is slow and the environmentals are bad, even with bots flying it."
"I have to admit to being skeptical about the bots early on. We would never have accomplished what we have without them. I'm actually eager to get Idiot reconnected to the archives. That database really helps with logical decision making. Nothing like getting a list of the positives and negatives of taking some action without having to think that list up yourself."
Tawn nodded. "Other than Bax stealing that whole load of bots from us, they certainly have been useful."
A parade of Banshee scouts was sent out to patrol the space lanes that would most likely be used by any of the three species seeking to subjugate humanity. It would likely be weeks before any word returned.
The Grindle was packed full of bots, who were hidden behind several false walls, before it was sent toward Midelon. A single bot would operate the nav controls and was given the task of mimicking the voice of a Burrell once they reached comm range. An excuse of the two-thousand-year-old nav camera being out would be the reason for not showing its image.
Aside from the bioscan data, images of the Burrell as they exited the stasis pods would be substituted as proof it was still under their control. If all went well, the bots would be entering the cave just after the Bangor completed its return to the battlefield. Once the destruction of the generators was deemed complete, the bots that remained would huddle together and self destruct, exiting existence as unsung heroes.
ARMS For Eternity: (Book 8) Page 15