“I know, son,” Ruthven said. It didn’t look as though they’d have a chance to ram one of the enemy ships, but at least they’d inflicted a great deal of damage. Five battleships had been destroyed and seven more had been crippled. “It was a honour to serve ...”
Fifty-seven missiles slammed into Vengeance and detonated, blowing the ship into dust.
***
“The Tokomak ship has been destroyed,” the sensor officer reported.
“Take us in pursuit of the human ships,” Warlord Joist snarled. “Don’t let them get away!”
***
“Captain,” Biscoe reported. “The enemy ships are lumbering after us.”
Hoshiko nodded. It was a shame Captain Barrows hadn't lived long enough to ram one of the enemy ships, but his sacrifice had inflicted a great deal of damage on the enemy fleet. She thought, briefly, about sticking around and fighting a long-range missile duel, yet she knew it would probably prove futile. She’d need to close again to inflict any serious damage and that would expose her ships to their fire.
And we may even have started a religious war, she thought. They might start fighting each other now that one of their commanders fired on a Tokomak ship.
“Drop a gravity bomb, then take us into FTL,” she ordered, calmly. “Direct course back to Amstar.”
“Aye, Captain,” Browne said. The display flickered and died as the ship jumped into FTL and raced away from the enemy ships. “They should be able to track us ...”
“They know where we came from,” Hoshiko said. She would have been astonished if the Druavroks didn't know Amstar was the centre of the Grand Alliance. “Let them give chase, if they wish.”
“Aye, Captain,” Browne said.
***
Warlord Joist stared at the empty display. The humans had done it again! They’d tricked him ... and now, no ship dared let a Tokomak ship close with them without checking the crew’s identity first. But that was an offense against a superior race. Anyone who proposed it would be killed out of hand.
The mood in the compartment changed suddenly. He tasted the hostile scent in the air and looked up, baring his claws. His crew were looking at him, their beady eyes conveying a single dark emotion. He had stepped well over the line and now he needed to fight for his command ...
He hopped off his perch, lifting his claws as he hissed a challenge in the very old tongue, the one they’d learned before the Tokomak had arrived. If he was lucky, the crew would back down rather than try to charge him. He was their superior, after all, and he had seen off a dozen challenges to his position ...
The crew charged, hissing their rage and hatred. Warlord Joist killed the communications officer with one blow - the fool had left his neck exposed - but the movement allowed the tactical officer and the helmsman to bury their claws in his skin. He twisted in pain, cuffing the helmsman on the head and sending him to the deck, just before a pair of jaws latched on to his backside and bit, hard. There was a wave of pain ...
... And then there was nothing, nothing at all.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Federal troops, ordered to invade Oklahoma, mutinied today after their commanding officer was replaced by a political hack. Their new commanding officer has sent messages to both Washington and Austin announcing that his formation is reluctant to take part in the civil war, but is more than happy to serve as a border guard. It is unclear, as yet, if the Alliance for the Preservation of the United States will accept the offer.
-Solar News Network, Year 54
“Well,” Griffin commented to himself. “It could be worse.”
The Solar Union Naval Base was a modular structure, assembled from components that had been produced at Sol and shipped all the way to Martina. It was surrounded by a handful of automated weapons platforms - now part of a far greater defence network surrounding the planet itself - which were covered by five squadrons of alien warships, all from the Grand Alliance. And he - he - was in sole command.
He had no illusions. Captain Stuart’s report on the Captain’s Board was already making its way to Sol. It was unlikely he’d be allowed to remain in the sector, let alone in command of the naval base, once Fleet Command heard what he’d done. Captain Stuart might not have relieved him of duty, but Fleet Command would take a dim view of the whole affair and demand further punishment.
“Commander,” Ensign Tabitha Swan said. She was a pale-skinned young woman, so young it was clear she’d only been out of the Academy a week before she’d been assigned to the naval base. “I have the latest reports from the planetary defence force.”
Griffin allowed himself a tight smile. The only good news that had come out of the Grand Alliance’s defeat was that Martina had finally evolved a workable united planetary defence force. It was going to give them headaches in the years to come - Griffin was old enough to remember NATO before it had collapsed into irrelevance - but for the moment it should be enough to protect their world against any reasonable attack. And, like Amstar, the longer the Druavroks waited to attack, the stronger the defences would become. There were nine fabbers in orbit around Martina and eight of them were steadily churning out new weapons, defences and starship components.
“Good,” he said. “Have they finally ironed out the bugs on the frigate design?”
“Yes, Commander,” Tabitha said. “They’re planning to go into full production within the week.”
“Let us hope it is enough,” Griffin said. The Grand Alliance would eventually need Martina turning out cruisers and battleships, but the planet had never had a very strong shipbuilding industry, thanks to its disunited government. “And training programs?”
“Proceeding slowly,” Tabitha informed him. “We’re really needing to train the people to train the people at the moment, sir, and its slow going.”
“Same old problem,” Griffin said. He turned his attention to the display, where hundreds of industrial nodes hung in orbit around the planet. “Do you think there’s any way we can speed the process up?”
“Only by cutting corners, sir,” Tabitha said. “We could stick with the basics, the same training the Tokomak gave everyone, but they wouldn't be able to handle an unexpected problem.”
Griffin nodded, curtly. He hadn't expected Tabitha to come up with anything - the vastly more experienced engineers at Amstar hadn't been able to come up with anything either - but it had been worth a try. Who knew? Maybe a junior officer, lacking the cynicism of her seniors, might be able to come up with something new. But then, Tabitha hadn't been ranked too highly at the Academy. If she had, she would have been assigned to starship duty.
Which is foolish of us, he thought, coldly. Establishing a network of naval bases will become increasingly important as the years roll on and our influence grows.
“I’m due to meet with the planetary council in three hours,” he said. “Have Lieutenant Hassan come up with a plan for a whole new series of planetary defence exercises. I’ll propose them to the council once we meet.”
“Aye, Commander,” Tabitha said.
She saluted and retreated, leaving Griffin alone with his thoughts - and the near-orbit display. Hundreds of thousands of freighters were moving in and out of the system, passing through the gravity points or dropping into FTL for the long voyage to their destinations. Unless he was very wrong, and he rather doubted it, some of them were probably spying for the Druavroks. They had to be aware of Martina’s significance, particularly now that Captain Stuart had joined the war against them. No, had galvanised the war against them. The Druavroks had to understand just how important Martina was to their new enemies.
Assuming they can tell the difference between us, he thought, ruefully. The Druavroks seemed to be a united mass, but humans - and many alien races - were split into subgroups, some of which warred against the others. They may assume we’re from another colony world, rather than Sol.
He shook his head. There was no way to know just how effective an intelligence net the Druavroks had, if they
’d even bothered to establish one in the first place. The Tokomak could have told them the importance of gathering intelligence, but would the Druavroks have listened? They certainly seemed to hold every other race in absolute contempt, save for their former masters. It wasn't an attitude he understood, but it had worked for them until Captain Stuart joined the war. None of the other Galactics had been able to muster a fleet capable of beating the enemy in open battle.
And now I’m stuck here, he thought.
It wasn't a bad exile, as exiles went. There was work to do - vitally important work to do - and his conscience wouldn't allow him to slack off, even if he hadn't found it challenging as well as interesting. But, at the same time, he’d been dispatched to the rear, to serve as nothing more than a REMF. The cool contempt held throughout the Solar Navy for staff officers and military bureaucrats - particularly ones who held their posts for longer than a year - made it hard for him to just settle into his new role. And it didn't help that he knew the rationale for the contempt. The longer an officer remained away from the sharp end, the less he recalled what was actually important.
And it’s time to stop feeling sorry for yourself, he told himself firmly, as the intercom bleeped. You could have been sent back to Earth on a courier boat and you know it.
He keyed the intercom. “Wilde.”
“Commander, two warships have just come through Gravity Point Three,” Lieutenant Hassan said. He was three years older than Tabitha, but his promotion had come at the price of a semi-permanent transfer to fixed naval bases. Thankfully, what he lacked in imagination he made up for with a plodding determination to cover all the bases. “They’re claiming to be from Tis’ll and requesting a meeting with the Grand Alliance’s representative.”
Griffin checked his implants. Tis’ll was a small federation of planets, over ten thousand light years away in normal space. Without the gravity point, communication between Martina and Tis’ll - or Sol - would be impossible. As it was, the latest update claimed that Tis’ll hadn't expressed any interest in developing relationships with anyone.
“Invite them to enter high orbit,” he said. He was curious to know what they had to say. “I’ll speak to them personally before they are forwarded to Amstar.”
“Aye, Commander,” Hassan said.
“And check the hospitality records and find out what they can eat,” Griffin added. “We may need to host them on the base.”
He sighed, inwardly. The newcomers would understand, he was sure, if certain areas were deemed classified, but he doubted he could get away with not giving them a basic tour of the naval base. Maybe they were curious ... or maybe they viewed the Grand Alliance as a potential threat, one that would eventually cut their access to Martina and the gravity points.
Or tax them through the nose, he thought, sardonically. Now the Tokomak are gone, what’s to stop the planetary council charging transit fees?
“They’re acknowledging, sir,” Hassan said. “They’ll be in high orbit in four hours, thirty-seven minutes.”
“Good,” Griffin said. It was ironic that he would have to make the case for joining the Grand Alliance to a group of aliens when he had his doubts about the whole concept, but there was no choice. “I’ll contact the planetary council, then ready myself for the meeting.”
“Yes, Commander,” Hassan said.
***
“I think we may have a problem,” Lieutenant Octavo said. “Take a look at that.”
Thomas nodded, reluctantly. It had taken a week of prowling around the Tarsus System before they’d located a convoy they could use as cover to sneak into the system, but once they’d dropped out of FTL they’d been greeted with the sight of over two hundred battleships lying in wait, accompanied by over five hundred smaller ships. There was so much firepower gathered in orbit around the star, with nothing to defend, that Thomas knew Captain Stuart had been right. The Druavroks were planning an offensive.
And to think they told us that there were only ninety battleships in orbit, he thought, with grim amusement. It wouldn't matter a jot if Rustbucket ended up within firing range of ninety battleships or two hundred, but the larger fleet posed a far greater threat. Someone must have miscounted.
“Launch four recon probes,” he ordered, “but keep them a safe distance from the battleships.”
“Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Octavo said. He glanced up from his console. “What do you think we can do about that?”
“I wish I knew,” Thomas said. “We may have to slip out of the system and take word back to Amstar.”
But even if they did, he had no idea what - if anything - the Captain could do about it. Two hundred battleships would require the entire Grand Fleet to handle, yet a straight fight in an uninhabited system would play to the enemy’s strengths rather than their weaknesses. Could it be that the Druavroks were planning to lure the Grand Fleet into the system for a battle? A fleet of enemy warships, no matter the size, simply could not be ignored. They’d know that as well as their human opponents.
He frowned as more and more data flowed into the sensor arrays. The Druavroks weren't just preparing for an offensive, they were drilling heavily. He watched their ships engaging in mock battles, spitting out fire at imaginary enemies ... it was impossible to be certain, but it looked very much as though they’d rigged the simulations to face missiles flying at two or three times the maximum speed. They’d be very well prepared to face human ships, he thought, as their command and control networks slowly revealed themselves. It looked, very much, as though they’d decentralised the whole system.
We taught them a lesson in the last encounter, he thought. And they’ve learned from it.
“I can't peg their command ship, sir,” Lieutenant Octavo reported. “They keep swapping IFF codes. If there’s a pattern I can't discern it.”
Thomas nodded. The Tokomak had pioneered centralised control, with one command ship in charge of the whole network, but the Tokomak hadn't fought a serious war for centuries. Any human opponent - any opponent with a little common sense - would try to knock the command network down as quickly as possible and the simplest way to do that was to obliterate the command ship. Now, even identifying the command ship would prove impossible. The enemy might be smart enough not to place their commanders at the centre of the formation.
Of course, we might blow the command ship away without realising what we’d done, Thomas thought, ruefully. And if they have redundancies built into their systems, we might not notice before it was far too late.
“Just gather as much data as you can,” he said. Two hundred battleships ... where were they going? Amstar was the most logical target, but the defences were already formidable and growing by the day. How many battleships were the Druavroks prepared to throw away? “I think they’ll be moving sooner rather than later.”
Hours passed slowly, very slowly, as Rustbucket probed the edges of the enemy formation, searching for insights into their command network. The Druavroks kept exercising, drilling their ships against a foe with far greater technology than humanity. Thomas wondered, absently, just what it was doing to enemy morale, then dismissed the thought. The Druavroks would be far better prepared for humanity by testing themselves against a far greater, if simulated, enemy.
They’ll be used to snagging missiles travelling at half the speed of light, he thought. And our missiles only fly half so fast.
“They’re deploying more destroyers, sir,” Lieutenant Octavo said. “They may have caught a sniff of us.”
Thomas leaned forward. He’d been sure to keep their distance from the enemy fleet, but the Druavroks could easily have scattered stealthed sensor platforms around the system and Rustbucket might have passed too close to one of them without noticing. Even Tokomak platforms were almost impossible to detect with passive sensors, not unless the searcher got very lucky. But it seemed as though luck was on the wrong side today.
“Pull us back,” he ordered, calmly. The enemy ships were settling into a search pattern, but
there was something wrong about it. “See if you can predict their flight path ...”
He smiled as it struck him. They’d been wrong. The Druavroks weren’t searching for his ship, but carrying out a routine patrol of their formation. If they’d detected his ship, their destroyers would have charged towards the point of contact, hoping to overrun him before he brought up his drives and escaped into FTL. Five destroyers, after all, would be more than enough to kill a patrol boat.
“Hold us here,” he ordered, tiredly. He’d have to go off watch soon, then use his implants to ensure he got some sleep. Without them, he’d be too nervous to close his eyes and actually allow sleep to overcome him. “Are the destroyers doing anything unusual?”
“They’re just carrying out standard active sensor sweeps,” Lieutenant Octavo reassured him, after a moment. “I have a solid lock on their hulls.”
“For all the good it would do,” Thomas said.
He frowned, inwardly. It proved, if nothing else, that the Druavroks weren't concerned about watching eyes. Normally, smaller ships were reluctant to use their active sensors in wartime unless the shit had already hit the fan. It was just too easy for a watching enemy to draw a bead on them from stealth. But then, with two hundred battleships in the system, the Druavroks had good reason to feel safe. Even the entire Grand Fleet might not be enough to win a straight battle.
The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) Page 36