And they didn't share movies either, she thought, ruefully. A number of human movies had been quite popular among humanity’s closest neighbours, although not quite the ones she would have expected. The aliens looked at pre-Contact movies about aliens and laughed themselves silly. I wonder how long it will be until they start their own media services.
“The second battlestation is under heavy attack, but it’s fighting back,” Brown reported. “A number of freighters have been destroyed.”
“Move Task Force 4.3 up in support,” Hoshiko ordered. The Druavroks were doomed, but they didn’t seem to care. She would have been impressed if they hadn't been her enemies, the bastards she had to kill. “And angle Task Force 1.2 over in that general direction, just in case they need additional point defence.”
“Aye, Captain,” Brown said.
Hoshiko nodded and turned her attention back to the display. Battlestation Three hadn't been anything like as lucky as Battlestation Two, although there was no way to know why. Her shields were flickering desperately as missiles pounded them into scrap, shimmering in and out of existence as her shield generators burned out. A handful of missiles made it through gaps in the shields, slamming into her hull and blasting their way into her interior. The end could not be long delayed.
“Picking up multiple drive signatures on the surface,” Brown snapped. “They’re launching small craft.”
“Odd,” Hoshiko muttered, tearing her attention away from the doomed battlestation. The Druavroks on the ground had nothing to gain by launching shuttles ... or did they? Her sensors hadn't been able to detect any large planetary defence centres, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. “Keep an eye on them ...”
The display flared with red icons as hundreds of shuttles took off and clawed their way into space. Hoshiko cursed under her breath, remembering her great-great-uncle’s stories about Imperial Japan and how it had died in fire. The Druavroks thought nothing of kamikaze attacks, even with starships. Why wouldn’t they turn shuttles into suicide craft?
“The shuttles intend to launch suicide attacks,” she said, keeping her voice calm. It was unlikely that any of the craft carried weapons that could hurt her warships, but there were far too many soft targets amongst her fleet. “They are to be targeted and destroyed as soon as they enter engagement range.”
“Aye, Captain,” Brown said.
The Druavroks showed no hesitation as their formation bunched up and roared towards its targets. She noted, coolly, that they seemed to be more interested in targeting the warships, even though hammering the converted freighters would probably score them more kills. A highly macho culture like Imperial Japan might well have encouraged its flyers to target warships, despite the mass of firepower surrounding them. The Druavroks clearly thought along the same lines.
And they have nerve, she thought, as the shuttles ducked and weaved their way through a barrage of firepower. No one had managed to make a genuine starfighter, despite plenty of research in the Solar Union, but the Druavroks were flying the next best thing. Perhaps there was something to be said for missile-armed gunboats, after all. But they can’t hide from my sensors.
She drew back her lips into a snarl as red icons began to vanish from the display, one by one, even as their comrades pressed closer. The Druavroks couldn't hide, nor could they react in time to escape point defence fire. And yet they were closing in ... a destroyer, part of Task Force 1.4, staggered as a shuttle rammed into its shields, followed rapidly by another. A frigate, passed down through so many owners that only the hull could be said to be original, exploded as four shuttles slammed home in quick succession. And then the last of the shuttles was blown apart, leaving local space clear.
“Battlestation Two has been destroyed,” Brown confirmed. “Battlestation Three is a powerless wreck.”
“Take it out completely,” Hoshiko ordered. It was unlikely the Druavroks would be able to repair it in time to matter - it might well be cheaper to build a whole new battlestation - but there was no point in taking chances. “I want it smashed to rubble.”
“Aye, Captain,” Brown said.
“Take the warships into orbit,” Hoshiko added. If the Druavroks had a PDC concealed somewhere on the surface, which was still possible, they would have to open fire or throw away their sole remaining opportunity to inflict harm on her ships. “Is the bombardment plan complete?”
“Yes, Captain,” Brown said. “Tactical has located and tagged everything in the first and second list of ground targets.”
Hoshiko sucked in her breath. A modern planet had dozens of spaceports, military bases, communications hubs and power centres. Taking them all out in a single blow was unprecedented, even on Earth. But then, the Solar Union had had the technology to go directly after the leaders of rogue states. It had never needed to rain down death indiscriminately from the safety of high orbit.
We’re not bombarding civilian targets, she told herself, firmly. She honestly wasn't sure there was such a thing as a civilian Druavrok. But all that really mattered was ensuring the planet was unable to support the enemy war effort for the foreseeable future. Once it was stripped of everything that might be useful, it could be left to wither on the vine. And there aren't many non-Druavroks on the surface to put at risk.
She frowned as the holographic display changed, showing the targets on the ground. The Druavroks had more spaceports than she’d expected, each one including a warehouse complex that was easily three or four times the size of anything she’d seen on Amstar, Martina or Earth. They were surrounded by ground-based weapons systems, but there didn't seem to be anything capable of reaching up and striking her ships in orbit. Unless they had something concealed, of course. The Druavroks hadn't really had time to prepare an ambush, but she would have kept half her defences concealed if she’d been in command.
And some of them are far too close to civilian targets, she thought, grimly. The Solar Union was not foolish enough to believe that civilian casualties could be avoided completely, unlike some of the more absurd nations on Earth, but hard questions would be asked. Her detractors wouldn’t care that preventing her allies from committing outright genocide was hard enough, not when they’d be trying to score political advantage at her family’s expense. But they’re the ones who put them there.
“Targets locked, Captain,” Brown reported. “KEW firing patterns are locked and the tubes are loaded.”
“Fire at will,” Hoshiko ordered. “I say again, fire at will.”
She smiled to herself as the first KEWs fell from her starships. The Druavrok defences tried to engage the projectiles as they fell through the atmosphere, but her ships had no shortage of ammunition. KEWs really were nothing more than rocks dropped on a ballistic trajectory, aimed at a target on the ground. One by one, her targets began to die ...
“There was a major explosion after Target #362 was struck,” Brown commented. “I think it must have been an ammunition dump.”
Hoshiko shrugged, unconcerned. An ammunition dump was a legitimate target, as far as the Solar Union’s ROE were concerned. It might not pose an immediate danger to her ships, but it was definitely supporting the enemy war effort. And if the enemy had put it in the midst of civilian settlements, trying to use their own civilians as ‘human’ shields, the Solar Union’s ROE agreed it was their fault. But the Druavroks didn't seem to realise they could use intelligent beings as shields. They cared so little for their own lives, she suspected, that they couldn't grasp that others cared more.
The Tokomak must have been harsh masters, she thought, as the final targets vanished from the display. And the Druavroks just treated them as gods.
“All targets destroyed, Captain,” Brown reported. “Their ground-based communications network appears to have gone down.”
“Maybe,” Hoshiko said.
She studied the display for a long moment. It was easy to forget that the neat little icons, flickering and vanishing off the display, represented an immensely destructive KEW str
ike that had smashed buildings, cratered runways and killed hundreds, perhaps thousands, of enemy personnel. From high overhead, warfare was so clean and tidy; on the ground, it was devastating. The enemy had been dealt a blow it would take them years to recover from ...
... And yet, she knew better than to take it for granted. Her grandfather, in one of his rants about the military on Old Earth, had talked about how easily the air force had been fooled into believing its bombardments, with smart precision weapons no less, had been devastatingly effective. It was quite possible that the Druavroks had a hardened communications network based around wires, rather than signals, and that their command and control system was still intact. She certainly had no way to know if she’d killed off the high commander on the planet or not. A human commander would have been on one of the battlestations, sharing the hazards facing his men, but would a Druavrok commander feel the same way?
“As long as their ability to hit the fleet has been crippled, it shouldn’t matter,” she added, grimly. “Are there any enemy vessels remaining in the system?”
“Not as far as long-range sensors can tell,” Brown said. “If they’re cloaked and watching from a safe distance ...”
Hoshiko nodded. If she’d been in command, she would have left a single ship in the system, under cloak, to keep an eye on the invaders while the rest of the squadron went for help. A relief force could drop out of FTL near the watcher and get an update before either proceeding to counterattack or harassing her pickets, depending on the exact situation.
Not that it matters, she reminded herself. We’re not going to remain in the system for long.
“Inform the fleet that we will now proceed to Phase Two,” she said. “The starships attached to the out-orbit task forces are to separate themselves from the fleet and proceed as planned.”
She gritted her teeth. The allies wanted blood - and they’d be reluctant to follow her standing orders, if they ran into superior firepower. Hoshiko saw no reason to throw her ships away for nothing, but aliens who wanted revenge - and also to show up their allies - wouldn't be so careful. But there was nothing she could do about it, but hope the liaison officers she’d provided would be enough to keep tempers cool.
Win the war first, she told herself. Revenge can come afterwards.
“Confirm,” she ordered. “The industrial nodes and fabbers didn't attempt to engage the ships.”
“Confirmed,” Brown said. “They did not attempt to engage our fleet.”
The Tokomak never thought to outfit their industrial nodes with weapons, Hoshiko thought, grimly. But their former slaves might have different ideas.
“Order the marines to board and storm, if the workers refuse to surrender,” she ordered, tightly. Taking the fabbers intact would be a considerable coup, adding their industrial capabilities to her forces. But if the Druavroks were lying in wait, ready to either fight to bleed her forces or simply blow up the fabbers as soon as the marines boarded, it was going to be costly. “If they meet significant resistance, they are to withdraw and the fabbers will be destroyed.”
“Aye, Captain,” Brown said.
Hoshiko winced, inwardly. The Galactics would be shocked at the thought of someone blowing up a fabber, even though it was a legitimate tactic of war. They were just too important, after all. The Tokomak might just have left their fabbers unharmed to ensure that attacking forces had no reason to open fire on the giant orbital factories. They would probably have assumed the attackers would have no time to turn the fabbers against them, if they could hack their way through the security codes, before reinforcements arrived from deeper within the empire.
Which is what happens, she thought savagely, when you have so much power you can organise reality to suit yourself and to hell with everyone else.
She shook her head in droll amusement as the fleet closed in on the fabbers, readying the marines for launch. The Tokomak had been knocked back by the Battle of Earth, shocked and terrified by the outcome of what should have been a walkover. How long would it take them to put together a second fleet, far larger than the first? And how long would it take humanity to invent something that would turn their entire fleet, hundreds of thousands of giant battlecruisers, into so much scrap metal? The Tokomak had been stagnant for so long that they probably couldn't innovate, even if they tried. Given enough time, humanity would steamroller over the Tokomak and claim their place in the universe.
“The marines are ready to launch,” Brown reported. “And they have that reporter tagging along.”
“Understood,” Hoshiko said. “Tell them to jump once we’re in range.”
***
“The marines are ready to launch, sir,” Biscoe said. “Captain Stuart has cleared them to jump as soon as we enter range.”
“Understood,” Griffin Wilde said.
He looked down at the near-space display, trusting the bridge crew to alert him if the situation suddenly changed for the worse. The remains of three battlestations and countless automated platforms were drifting in orbit, a sizable percentage slowly drifting into the planet’s gravity well. Griffin wouldn't have cared to be under the pieces of debris when they finally entered the planet’s atmosphere and plunged to the surface, even though only a small percentage of them would survive the fall. There were so many large pieces of debris that they would be almost certain to hit something ...
And even if they don’t, he thought, adding so many atoms to the atmosphere is bound to cause a great deal of damage.
He cursed under his breath as he accessed the live feed from the drones hovering high over the planet, peering down at the aliens far below. The KEW bombardment had done immense damage to the planet’s facilities, almost certainly making it impossible for the authorities to ship food around the settlements or keep the planet under control. God alone knew how the Druavroks organised themselves - Griffin didn't care to know - but a human planet that had been bombarded so badly would probably fragment.
Like Earth, he thought. Only worse, perhaps.
It wasn't a pleasant thought. Griffin knew what he’d like to do to a race that had done so much damage to humanity - and he had to assume the Druavroks agreed. Tit for tat was rarely a workable rule in the real world ... and, in any case, the Solar Union hadn't been attacked. The Druavroks would find it harder to give up the war, assuming they wanted to in the first place. Nothing the doctor or the intelligence officers had dug up suggested the Druavroks could be talked into a truce.
And they will come for revenge, he thought, bitterly. What choice do they have?
“Commander,” Biscoe said. “The marines are launching now.”
“Understood,” Griffin said. It was a distraction from his worries, but he knew it wouldn't last. “Keep me informed.”
He understood Hoshiko’s desire to intervene, both to protect fellow humans and to ensure the Druavroks never had a chance to threaten the Solar Union. But the price ... humanity might wind up embroiled in a war at the end of a very long supply chain ...
... And facing a long war with an alien race that wouldn't hesitate to commit genocide if it won.
Chapter Eighteen
Federal American troops encircled Dearborn, Michigan, after an Islamist vigilante group came out of the shadows and declared an Islamic state. Reports from the ground are confused, but videos and statements uploaded to the datanet suggest that the group has already begun ethnic cleansing the city. However, there are strong suspicions that the federal government allowed the group to take power to provide a convenient rallying cry to restore federal power. The Governor of Texas has already declared the uprising nothing more than a fraud.
-Solar News Network, Year 54
Max felt ... claustrophobic.
He’d been in the suits before, during his military service and the landing on Amstar, but this was different. He was trapped in the darkness, unable to move, unable even to take control of the suit while it rested in the launch tube. If he’d known they wouldn't be making a formal combat dr
op, or taking a shuttle, he might have had other ideas. But he hadn't checked before it was far too late.
He felt the urge to scratch his nose as he wondered just how long he'd actually been in the tube. His implants insisted that it had only been five minutes since Hilde had shown him to the tube, helped him to get inside and then slammed the hatch closed; his mind was sure it had to be longer, far longer. He’d never felt so isolated in a combat suit before, even though he knew objectively he was wrapped in a suit of armour that would protect him from hundreds of threats. But then, the combination of implants and VR projectors made him feel as though he wasn't trapped, even though he knew he was. The tube, on the other hand, left him feeling as though he’d been locked in the darkness to die.
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