Chapter Twenty-Four
New Mexico and Arizona became the second and third states to sign up to the Texas-led Alliance for the Preservation of the United States, following a tidal wave of refugees from California into Arizona. Both states have instituted draconian measures against illegal immigrants, terrorists and federal agents, arresting and expelling as many of the first two as they can catch. (Federal agents are rarely taken alive.) Washington has so far said nothing, but sources close to the President suggest that the government is currently looking at its options.
-Solar News Network, Year 54
They do look like oversized chickens, Hoshiko thought, as she bowed politely to Matriarch Yah-Sin. The Dab-Yam looked very much like a chicken, complete with feathers and beady eyes, although she had hands that, judging by the shape, might well have been wings, on her distant ancestors. But they did a very good job of defending themselves.
She studied the Matriarch with interest. The Dab-Yam, according to the files, were a female-dominated race, the males generally being smaller and weaker than the females. Who knew what they’d make of nanotechnology that could change a person’s gender overnight, if they wanted, or give one person equal strength to another? She pushed the thought aside - the Dab-Yam could make use of such technology or not, as they pleased - and bowed for the second time, as the protocol files insisted. The Dab-Yam did not shake hands with anyone.
And their station is very hot, she thought, feeling sweat prickling down her back. The air was hot and smelled, faintly, of something unpleasant. Their world must be an uncomfortable place for humans.
“We greet you to our world,” the Matriarch said, through a translator voder. Her beak couldn't pronounce human words. “But we ask you to speak bluntly.”
“I shall,” Hoshiko said. “You may speak your mind.”
She would have preferred to send Captain Ryman, but who knew how the Dab-Yam would react to a male ambassador? They might not be able to tell the difference between human males and females - human gender dimorphism was nowhere near as obvious as theirs - yet there was no point in taking chances. Besides, he was fourteen days away by courier boat and very tied up in turning the Grand Alliance into a functional unit.
“We have little interest in the outside universe,” Matriarch Yah-Sin said. Her voice was flat, the voder being unable to convoy emotion. Hoshiko’s implants told her that the Dab-Yam had almost no expressions; the only way to read them was to listen to their voices, which were so high-pitched that they were hard for humans to hear. “We do not understand why you wish us to join your Grand Alliance.”
Because I sacrificed over a thousand crewmen for your world, Hoshiko thought, although she kept it to herself. The Dab-Yam hadn't asked her to come to their rescue. Their world had just been the closest target to Malachi. And because we need you.
“The Druavroks are unlikely to leave you alone, Your Ladyship,” she said. Her implants insisted that was the correct title for a Matriarch. “They may have been knocked back, their fleet crushed, but they have many more fleets. You joining us will make us stronger and more able to take the fight to them.”
“We have few warships, Lady Captain,” Matriarch Yah-Sin said. “Those we did have are badly damaged.”
“Then allow us to use your world as a base and supply us with weapons,” Hoshiko said, seriously. “Your world is closer to the enemy homeworlds than Amstar.”
“Our warriors will not fight outside our system,” Matriarch Yah-Sin insisted. “You would have to do the fighting yourself.”
That, Hoshiko had to admit, was a puzzling attitude. Almost every other race known to exist had liked the idea of settling up colonies and enclaves, if only to make sure that all of their eggs were not kept in one basket. The Dab-Yam didn't seem aware of the dangers their race faced, even without the Druavroks threatening their homeworld. A supernova or asteroid strike could exterminate almost all of their race. But they didn't seem inclined to set up colonies away from their homeworld.
“We have enough warriors,” she said, curtly. “But we do need basing rights, weapons and supplies.”
There was a long pause. Hoshiko waited, suspecting that Matriarch Yah-Sin was communing with her fellow nest-mothers. The Dab-Yam would not be remotely pleased with the request for basing rights, but they had to admit they needed a powerful fleet presence based within their system, unless they wanted the Druavroks to return and resume grinding their defences to powder. Assuming they had a month or two of grace, they could rebuild some of the fortifications orbiting their planet, but it wouldn't alter the final outcome. Dab-Yam was doomed unless she joined the Grand Alliance and went on the offensive.
“We can supply you with weapons and other supplies, once we tend to our own defences,” Matriarch Yah-Sin said, finally. “And while we can grant you basing rights, we must insist that your warriors do not set foot on our planet. They will frighten the men.”
Or give them ideas? Hoshiko thought, cynically. Are you scared of us convincing them they can do more than stay home and look after the kids?
She pushed the thought aside. The Solar Union had been founded by a man who was a strong believer in voting with one’s feet. If the residents of a canton found it unbearable, they had the right to move away ... and if they chose not to make use of it, it was their own stupid fault. Given time, the spread of technology - unlocked fabbers, unlocked medical nanites - would bring change to Dab-Yam too. Who knew where that would lead?
“That is acceptable,” she said. “We would be willing to base the fleet on one of your moons, once we established a naval base.”
“We would prefer you to place the base in orbit around the gas giant so you could protect the new cloudscoop,” Matriarch Yah-Sin said. “Our world is running short of fuel.”
“We are willing to offer improved fusion reactors as part of the deal,” Hoshiko offered, seriously. “They’re considerably more efficient than the Tokomak designs.”
“We would accept those gratefully,” Matriarch Yah-Sin said. “We would also accept assistance in securing raw materials for the fabbers.”
“We would be happy to provide it, as long as the fleet remains here,” Hoshiko said. It wouldn't be hard to steer a couple of asteroids towards the planet, provided no one was shooting at them. “However, the vast majority of our ships need to be rearmed.”
“That is understandable,” Matriarch Yah-Sin said. She stood a little stiffer. “And we thank you for your assistance.”
Hoshiko suspected she understood. The Dab-Yam had never been a very sociable race, not even once they’d discovered the vast universe just beyond their atmosphere. Matriarch Yah-Sin didn't seem to be uneasy, in her presence, but even she had to find contact with aliens difficult. Humans had had similar problems, just after Contact ... and humans were more sociable than the Dab-Yam. There would be time to break down the barriers later.
“I thank you too,” she said. “With your permission, I will return to my ship.”
Matriarch Yah-Sin bowed. Hoshiko bowed back, then keyed her wristcom and called for teleport. The teleport field enveloped her a moment later and then faded away, revealing the teleport chamber. Commander Wilde was standing there, waiting for her. He looked tired, but pleased with himself. And, as he’d destroyed a considerable amount of tonnage in a single ambush, he had good reason to be.
“Captain,” he said. “Welcome back.”
“It was an interesting meeting,” Hoshiko said. She returned the teleport officer’s salute, then allowed Wilde to lead her back towards her cabin. “They’re grateful, but also concerned about the future.”
“They’re a profoundly conservative race, according to the files,” Wilde commented. “I honestly wonder how they managed to invent the wheel.”
Hoshiko shrugged. The Dab-Yam had a history that stretched back over millions of years, almost all of it profoundly boring. Unlike humans, they didn't seem to pick many fights with their own kind; the only real wars they’d had in their histo
ry had been small skirmishes over resources and occasional mating rights. It was almost as if they didn't have much of an aggressive instinct at all, unlike humanity - or the Druavroks. They’d been lucky they’d managed to get into space when the Tokomak arrived. That, at least, had won them some respect.
“I think our history was driven by war,” she said, although she wasn't entirely sure if that were true. “Once we developed the concept of steadily improving our technology, we just kept trying to find new ways to do things.”
“When we didn't stagnate,” Wilde pointed out. “How many of our cultures simply stopped innovating because they were satisfied, technologically speaking?”
Hoshiko shrugged. “Neither Imperial China nor Imperial Rome had access to the kind of communications systems we enjoy,” she said, tartly. “And neither of them dominated the world.”
“They were destroyed by outside forces,” Wilde said. “The Dab-Yam could easily have gone the same way - still could, if they don’t build a more effective defence.”
“True,” Hoshiko agreed. “And we will be helping them with that, as we prepare to take the war into their territory.”
“If they accept our help,” Wilde said, pessimistically. “They’re not too keen on having us here.”
Hoshiko shrugged. She’d requested copies of Matriarch Yah-Sin’s records when she’d returned to the system and, somewhat reluctantly, the Dab-Yam had provided. Their defences had been formidable, and they’d stopped the first enemy attack so decisively that the Druavroks had chosen to wear down the defences rather than risk another major attack, but choosing to go permanently on the defensive had doomed them to defeat before her fleet had arrived. The Dab-Yam needed her help if they wanted to survive the next few years.
She opened the hatch to her cabin and stepped inside, using her implants to send a request for coffee to her steward. Her clothes felt sweaty, despite the cool air; she wondered, suddenly, just what else lurked in the planet’s atmosphere. Nothing dangerous, she was sure - her implants would have taken care of it - but she couldn't help feeling uncomfortable. She made a mental note to shower once the meeting was finished, then catch up on her sleep as soon as they returned to FTL.
“On other news, we shot all of the freighters dry,” Wilde added, as the steward appeared with a tray of coffee and biscuits. Hoshiko took her mug and a chocolate chip cookie, then sat down on her sofa. “We expended much of our stockpile of missiles in a single barrage.”
“At least it took out a number of their ships,” Hoshiko said. “We’d have killed more if we’d taken down their datanet quicker.”
“Perhaps,” Wilde said. “But we’re going to have to replenish our supplies before we can take the offensive once again.”
He paused. “And there’s another problem.”
Hoshiko took a sip of her coffee, then lifted her eyebrows. “There is?”
“Yes, Captain,” Wilde said. “We cheated. We lured the enemy into a trap, one set using a device they had no reason to anticipate.”
“They should have been paying more attention to the reports from Earth,” Hoshiko said, dipping her cookie in the coffee. “It isn't as if we stopped a handful of Horde starships, is it?”
“They probably didn't know the details,” Wilde said. “We didn’t share much and I doubt the Tokomak wanted to talk about their defeat. Still ...
“Captain, we hit them with an outside context problem,” he said. “But as far as much of the Grand Alliance is concerned, we kicked their ass with a handful of warships and a few dozen freighters. They might start thinking the bastards are really nothing more than paper tigers.”
“We lost seven ships in the engagement,” Hoshiko said. “And it would have been a great deal more if they’d targeted the freighters instead.”
“And if they’d managed to take down our datanet,” Wilde agreed.
Hoshiko rather doubted they could. The Tokomak might insist on having a single command ship, ensuring a great deal of confusion when - if - the flagship was blown into atoms, but human datanets were decentralised. If Jackie Fisher was destroyed, one of the other warships would pick up the slack instantly. It would be a little harder if one of the alien ships were to be taken out, as they used the Tokomak-designed system, yet they’d practiced rebooting the datanet with a new command ship during their first exercises.
Better to hope for the best and prepare for the worst, she reminded herself. They might get lucky or come up with an ingenious way of disabling our command net ... or simply throw enough missiles at us that even we can’t stop more than a small fraction of them.
“The point is,” Wilde said, “that the Grand Alliance might start fragmenting if they think beating the Druavroks will be easy, instead of a long hard slog.”
“That's something we will have to watch,” Hoshiko said, after a moment. She didn't think it was particularly likely, not after the Druavroks had ransacked Amstar and a dozen other worlds, but the prospect had to be borne in mind. “We did lose a number of freighters in the attack on Malachi.”
“By any reasonable standard, Captain, that victory was bought cheaply,” Wilde reminded her, calmly. “But we won against an enemy who was unprepared for us. Word is spreading. The next enemy force we face will be tougher.”
Hoshiko nodded. There was no way to be sure, but the Druavroks she’d faced at Dab-Yam had definitely been more competent than the defenders of Malachi. They’d done all the right things and only lost because they’d run into an outside context trap. What would they do, if they realised the truth? In their place, she would have mounted another attack on Amstar - or Martina. Occupying Martina would give them both the gravity points and cut Hoshiko off from her superiors ...
Not that that’s a bad thing, part of her mind noted. If Uncle Mongo wants to relieve me of command, sending the orders will take years without the gravity points.
She pushed the thought aside. “We’ll also be getting tougher,” she said. Dab-Yam might or might not provide enough supplies to make saving the planet worthwhile, from a long-term point of view, but giving the enemy a bloody nose would help recruit more allies. “And the more allies we make, the more ships we will have at our disposal.”
“We really ought to be considering deep-strike missions,” Griffin pointed out. “But that would run the risk of leaving Amstar and the other threatened worlds uncovered.”
Hoshiko nodded. Leaving the naval base at Martina uncovered was a risk, but the Grand Alliance could produce everything she needed if something happened to the multiracial world. She could trade space for time if necessary, yet her allies couldn't make the same calculation. Their homeworlds were under threat. Indeed, the Druavroks might manage to split the alliance if they grabbed everything within reach and launched an all-out attack on a major homeworld.
But there are powerful defences there already, she thought. And they will get stronger as human technology and unlocked fabbers spread through the sector.
“We can send a handful of smaller ships deeper into enemy territory,” she said, after a moment. The Grand Alliance couldn't operate as a single fleet indefinitely. “We can spare the crews to handle them.”
“Maybe,” Wilde said. “We are cutting our margins of safety alarmingly thin.”
“I know,” Hoshiko said. Jackie Fisher now had a permanent crew of fifty, the remaining crewmembers spread over a hundred alien warships. The other cruisers in her squadron had the same problem. She simply didn't have the manpower to ensure everyone spoke the same language, let alone operated as a team. “We’re going to be putting junior officers in command of raiding parties.”
“Well, Ensign Howard did manage to command the courier boat,” Wilde said, with a flicker of amusement. “He might just be qualified for something larger.”
“With one crewman under his command,” Hoshiko said. The idea of a courier boat having a standard chain of command was ridiculous. Barriers that were easy to maintain on warships wouldn’t last a day on a courier boat. “But
you’re right - he might have to take command of a refurbished warship, if we can't find the officers and crew elsewhere.”
She shook her head. “We’ll leave a squadron of warships and a pair of officers here,” she said, as she rose. “The remainder of the fleet will head back to Amstar tonight. We’ll use the journey to plot out our next move.”
“And hope the enemy doesn't come up with a plan of his own,” Wilde said, warningly. He rose too. “They’re bound to be fuming with rage.”
“I’m not worried about them fuming with rage,” Hoshiko said. She’d provoked the Druavroks deliberately to lure them into a trap. “Massive wave attacks are alarming, but easy to handle. I’m worried about them thinking their next step through carefully before launching their attack.”
She watched him go, then walked into the washroom and undressed before peering into the mirror. Her body looked as healthy as always, but her eyes were tired. She hadn't slept well since the battle, despite her implants. There had just been too much else to do. She turned on the water, stepped into the shower and sighed in relief as the warm water washed her clean.
The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) Page 25