“We got almost everything we asked for,” she said. The gravity-wave generators, in particular, would allow her to give the Druavroks a real surprise. “And we should be ready to take the offensive in a couple more days.”
“Assuming they take the bait,” Wilde noted. “Are you sure they will?”
“I think I’m starting to get an idea of how these creatures think,” Hoshiko said, after a moment. “They don’t think very highly of anyone, perhaps even themselves. A challenge has to be accepted, not ignored. We’ll be throwing down a gauntlet they’d be hard-pressed to ignore.”
She shrugged. In truth, she had contingency plans. It might not be possible to drive the Druavroks away from Dab-yam, but she could give them a bloody nose. Given the fleet reported to be laying siege to the system, no one seriously expected her to challenge the Druavroks to a straight fight. The Grand Alliance would be lost along with the fleet.
“I need you to take command of Task Force 6.1,” she said, instead. Task Force 6.1 was a small formation, but it had a vitally important task. “You’ll be covering the ambush.”
“Understood,” Wilde said. “I assume Biscoe will be taking command of the ship?”
Hoshiko nodded, reluctantly. She would have preferred to keep Wilde with her and place another officer in command of Task Force 6.1, but she needed someone completely reliable in place to spring the trap. Besides, it was important to show she was prepared to put humans - Solarians - on the front lines. Wilde could handle the mission and, at the same time, serve as a symbol of her resolve. But it meant putting a largely-untried officer in command of the ship in a time of war.
“I’ll be ready to retake command myself, if necessary,” she said. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but she’d parcelled out too many of her officers to alien ships for any other solution to be contemplated. “I don’t intend to take the fleet right into the teeth of enemy fire.”
“They’ll know about us now,” Wilde told her, bluntly. “They have to know we overwhelmed Malachi.”
“I know,” Hoshiko agreed. The Druavroks should take her fleet seriously, after they’d blown the defences of one of their systems into scrap metal, but they might see the hundreds of converted freighters and dismiss the threat. It wasn't as if she’d risked charging the fleet into the fire of a squadron of enemy battleships. “But as long as they’re not abandoning the siege, we have to go to them.”
“And they’ll know that too,” Wilde said.
Hoshiko had her doubts. Nothing she’d seen suggested the Druavroks had a concept of war like humanity’s - or the Tokomak, for that matter. They’d just declared war in all directions, as if they were completely contemptuous of their opposition. Perhaps they’d had a point - it had taken her squadron’s intervention to forge the Grand Alliance - but she was sure they would have outrun their logistics, sooner rather than later. And yet, if their enemies hadn't managed to get together by then, they might well have overcome the problem and just kept going.
But the more space they need to control, the harder it will be, she thought. Eventually, their grip will be so light it won’t be there at all.
She shuddered. It wouldn't matter, not with the Druavroks. They intended to exterminate every other race in the galaxy, not set up their own empire and enslave the rest of the universe. They’d just wipe the worlds they occupied clear of life and move on. Hell, given how fast they seemed to breed, it wouldn't take them long to build up settlements that would need to be wiped out by their opponents or permanently surrendered to the Druavroks. If they couldn’t be beaten quickly, their enemies would find themselves having to make a choice between committing genocide and being the victims of genocide.
And if we have to make that choice, she thought, better to commit genocide than allow it to be committed against us.
It was a sickening thought. She knew - she’d had it hammered into her head from a very early age - that Stuarts went into the military to protect their families, their friends, their nation ... not to crush their enemies or commit atrocities. Her grandfather had talked about the need to uphold one’s own standards, even as one’s enemies gloried in turning empathy and compassion into weapons. He’d had to deal with human shields, with shooters and bombers who were still children, with enemy populations that worshipped death and rejected the life offered to them by outsiders ... or, perhaps, were too scared to take a stand against the monsters that turned them into slaves and cannon fodder. And he had never urged the mass slaughter of enemy combatants and civilians alike ...
But if we can’t convince the Druavroks to stop, she told herself, we might have to kill them all.
“Captain?”
She blinked, coming back to herself. “Yes, Commander?”
“I can teleport over to the task force later this afternoon,” Wilde said. It took Hoshiko a moment to remember what he’d been saying. “Biscoe should be properly briefed on his duties and the attack plan.”
“Understood,” Hoshiko said. “Patrick will remain as my second, just in case something happens to Fisher.”
“They’ll certainly try to target her first,” Wilde agreed.
Hoshiko shrugged. A human commander would almost certainly target the warships first, knowing they represented the only long-term threat. But the Druavroks? She wasn't so sure what they’d do. They might not be capable of judging the correct level of threat posed by each and every one of her ships, not if they were all spewing out missiles. She shook her head, dismissing the thought. She’d find out soon enough.
“We’ll be well-protected by the datanet, if push comes to shove,” she said. “But the idea is not to enter missile range if it can be avoided.”
“It might not be avoidable,” Wilde said. He looked back at the display. “The latest reports, Captain, make it clear that the planet is under heavy attack.”
“All the more reason to move quickly,” Hoshiko said. “Brief Biscoe, if you please. I’ll speak to him myself before we enter FTL.”
“Aye, Captain,” Wilde said. “The task force will also need practice in deploying the mines, I think. Time will not be on our side.”
Hoshiko nodded. “Start running through the exercises as soon as you board the freighter,” she ordered, curtly. “And let me know if you need more time.”
“Ask me for anything but time,” Wilde quoted, as he rose. “I’ll let you know what happens.”
He left the cabin, the hatch hissing closed behind him. Hoshiko ordered more coffee, then picked up the datapad and started to read through Captain Ryman’s latest reports. Martina, it seemed, had finally patched together a government of sorts, although the local sub-governments were quick to explain that it only represented the planet to the rest of the Grand Alliance and had very little authority on the surface. Hoshiko had to smile at how human it sounded, then read the final sections with growing relief. Martina’s fabbers had been unlocked, as she’d hoped, and the planet was building up its defences as fast as possible, with some help from the naval base. Given time, it would even start producing warships of its own.
Pity we can't just replicate warships, she thought. A fleet composed of thousands of warships like Jackie Fisher would make humanity the dominant power in the galaxy. That would make life so much simpler.
She shook her head, dismissing the thought. It was theoretically possible, with AIs to handle the calculations, but the power requirements were staggeringly high. She'd read studies where engineers had proposed using zero-width wormholes to tap a local star, yet they were years away from any kind of workable hardware. Besides, even the Solar Union would hesitate at the thought of tampering with Sol. A large flare - or a supernova - would wipe out seventy percent of the Solar Union and all of Earth.
And that hasn't stopped us from working on ways to trigger flares or supernovas, she thought. A chill ran down her spine as she considered what the Druavroks would do with such technology. They could wipe out trillions of lives in a heartbeat.
The doorbell rang. “Come in!”
She looked up as the hatch opened, revealing Max Kratzok. The reporter was wearing a standard shipsuit, rather than the suit he normally wore; he walked forward as if his arms and legs were aching, although it didn't look as though he were in pain. Hoshiko’s eyes narrowed, but she knew she couldn't ask. Respecting the privacy of a fellow Solarian - too - had been drummed into her from a very early age.
Because there were too many busybodies on Earth, she thought, as Kratzok took a seat facing her. They thought they had the right to poke their noses into everyone’s business.
“Captain,” Kratzok said. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with his voice, at least. “I completed the second set of interviews and features and uploaded them into the datanet. I think they will be a hit back home.”
Hoshiko smiled. She had a private subroutine running in her implants, counting down the days until her first reports reached Sol. And, of course, until the first response could come back from her superiors. No matter what she said in public, she knew fleet command could jump either way, when it came to deciding how to react to her actions. They could approve them uncritically or order her back home to face a court martial ... or anything in-between.
“I certainly hope so,” she said. “Did you get anything from Malachi itself?”
“They ignored my requests for interviews,” Kratzok said. He smiled. “I don’t think they were interested in explaining themselves to our media.”
“I suppose not,” Hoshiko said. Her grandfather had gone on and on, at length, about media-savvy enemies and reporters who practically worked for the bad guys. The Solar Union, at least, didn't have that problem. “I don't even think they have a media.”
“Probably not,” Kratzok said. He shifted, uncomfortably. “I believe you promised me an interview, Captain.”
Hoshiko groaned inwardly, but there was no point in trying to deny it. “I have an hour, roughly, before I have to go on duty,” she said, after checking her implants in the hopes an urgent message was waiting in her inbox. “Is that enough time?”
“It depends on how you answer my questions,” Kratzok admitted. “I have a list, Captain, but I will probably also want to ask follow-up questions.”
“Very well,” Hoshiko said. She was tempted to ask just why he was uncomfortable - and to hell with politeness - but as long as he wasn't complaining, there was nothing she could do about it. And yet, she was curious and a little concerned. “If you don’t mind me asking ...”
“I was having sex,” Kratzok said, before she could finish the question. “Hilde and I were breaking furniture when she was off-duty.”
It took Hoshiko a moment to place the name, but when she did she nodded in amused understanding. Marines were reputed to be wild in the sack, although she’d never bedded one herself. She was surprised that Kratzok hadn't used his nanites to smooth out the aches and pains, but it was his choice.
“I see,” she said. “Now, what was your first question?”
***
“Welcome onboard, Commander,” a dark-skinned man said, as soon as the teleport field shimmered into nothingness. “I’m Captain Markham.”
“Commander Wilde, Griffin Wilde,” Griffin said. The freighter’s bridge was cramped, even though half the crew had been pulled out and reassigned to other ships. “Thank you for volunteering for Task Force 6.1.”
“If I’d known what we’d be doing, I would have insisted on volunteering for one of the other task forces instead,” Markham said. He clasped Griffin’s hand briefly, then nodded towards a console that had clearly been installed only a day or two ago. “There won’t be much fame in this part of the operation, sir.”
“There will be, if it works,” Wilde said. He tried to keep his doubts out of his voice. The Captain’s plan, on paper, looked sound ... but there were too many moving parts for him to be completely happy with it. “Is everything installed?”
“The hold is loaded, sir,” Markham confirmed. “We were told not to even look at the devices for fear they might explode.”
“They might,” Griffin confirmed. Markham was exaggerating, but not by much. “Don’t even touch them until we’re ready to leave.”
“Of course, sir,” Markham said. “Do you want to test the console?”
Griffin nodded as they walked over to the console. “Did you have any problems installing it?”
“None,” Markham said. “It’s basically separate from everything, but the fusion core; we didn't have to worry about linking it into the ship’s computer. The downside is that it will be fairly clear to the enemy that we’re the flagship.”
“It shouldn't matter,” Griffin said. “Task Force 6.1 isn't intended to come to grips with the enemy, not directly.”
“Let us hope so,” Markham said. “A single warship would be able to wipe the entire task force out without trouble.”
They might get a nasty surprise, Griffin thought, as he keyed the console and activated the datalink. There were forty freighters in Task Force 6.1, each crammed to the gunwales with mines and improvised weapons. Hit one of the ships and it’ll go up with one hell of a bang.
He studied the datalink for a long moment, then nodded. “We’ll start practicing the deployment pattern in an hour,” he said. “And then we will be ready to depart with the rest of the fleet.”
“Of course, sir,” Markham said.
Griffin gave him a sharp look. “Are you so keen to hurt the enemy, Captain?”
Markham nodded. “I had family on Amstar, Commander,” he said. “There aren't many humans who’ve managed to amass the cash to put a deposit on a freighter, not there. I was away for months at a time, just trying to build up a reserve of cash, and every time I came home it was a great party. My wives and children were proud of me - I used to promise my eldest son a place on the ship when he was old enough ...”
His voice darkened. “And then the Druavroks took over and my family vanished in the chaos,” he added. “I wasn't there at the time. I don’t know what happened to them, if they were killed or eaten or simply lost somewhere in all the madness, but the Druavroks either killed them or are responsible for their deaths. So yes, I do want to hurt them. I want to hurt them so badly they’ll scream.”
Griffin studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “You’ll have your chance,” he said, quietly. Markham’s determination to hurt the Druavroks was worrying - in his experience, a desire for revenge led to indiscipline - but it could be used. “Now, if you don’t mind, we have to start drilling.”
***
“The fleet reports that it is ready to depart, Captain,” Lieutenant Bryon Yeller said. “All units have acknowledged their orders.”
Hoshiko nodded. Two days of intensive drilling, two days of trying to prepare for every possible eventuality ... soon, she’d see just how well it worked in practice. They were only three days from Dab-yam. She thought - she hoped - that the exercises had smoothed out the kinks in their formation, but she knew just how much could still go wrong. There were too many different races and planets represented in her fleet.
“Alert the fleet,” she ordered, coolly. “They are to jump to FTL on my mark.”
And hope to hell we don’t screw up the timing, she added, mentally. The Druavroks shouldn't be able to see Task Force 6.1 when it broke away from the remainder of the fleet, but if she was wrong ... well, she’d just have to improvise. And, if nothing else, we’ll win the defenders of the planet some time.
“The fleet has acknowledged, Captain,” Yeller said. He sounded confident, at least, although he’d been spared detached duty. Hoshiko had needed to keep most of her communications officers on her original ships. “All ships are standing by.”
“Take us into FTL,” Hoshiko ordered.
She settled back in her command chair as the fleet rocketed into FTL, keeping her expression under control. Wilde would play his part, she was sure, but would the Druavroks? If she was wrong about them, the plan was going to end in an expensive failure ...
&
nbsp; ... And the Grand Alliance might just come apart at the seams.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Japanese Government has ordered compulsory pregnancy for every woman between 16 and 40 in order to cope with the country’s growing population crisis, in which over 70% of Japanese civilians are over 70. However, as analysts have noted, they have done nothing about either the economic crisis or the democratic deficit that have forced Japanese youngsters to flee the country.
-Solar News Network, Year 54
“They’re launching another attack, Matriarch.”
Matriarch Yah-Sin would have snarled a curse if she thought it would have done any good, even though it would have set a bad example for the hatchlings. Dab-yam’s government had thrown billions upon billions of interstellar credits at the planetary defence network, but constant attacks were steadily wearing it down. The first attack had failed badly, so badly that even the Druavroks had thought better of trying it again, yet their current strategy was far more effective. Depowered missile strikes, redirected asteroids ... even a single one, getting through the defences and into the atmosphere, would do a great deal of damage. It could not be allowed.
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