Storm Assault (Star Force Series)

by B. V. Larson

  “Exactly, Colonel. In fact, I have written up a set of—”

  “Hold on,” I said, “I didn’t say I agreed with you. We’re taking the ship to Earth.”

  “You said you had second reason—besides the station.”

  “Yes. I want to liberate Earth from Emperor Crow’s grip. I wasn’t sure we had the firepower before, but with Phobos backing us up, I’m fairly certain we do.”

  Miklos narrowed his eyes at me, but nodded and crossed his arms. I could tell he was feeling stubborn and abused. I hadn’t gotten to my biggest reason, one they all probably suspected. I had already decided to attack Earth and unseat the upstart Emperor before this thing had shown up. Hell, that’s why we’d built up the fleet at the expense of everything else. I still meant to keep my appointment back home with Crow.

  Miklos suddenly brightened. He leaned forward with a predatory expression. “One more thing, Colonel. We expect mines and fortifications, no? If the big ship is following us, we will run into those defenses rather than the Blues. How do we prevent that? How do we make them go through the last ring to Sol first?”

  He’d just hit upon a critical flaw in my plan. The truth was, I had no idea how to make them go first, or if it could even be done. In response, I fell back on any old standby technique of mine: I bullshitted him.

  “Don’t worry about that!” I said. “I have a plan. It will be unfolding shortly.”

  “Right after the one about getting the enemy to follow us?” asked Captain Sarin, reentering the conversation.

  I gave her a dark look. “Exactly.”

  “But Kyle, what if Earth can’t handle Phobos?” Captain Sarin demanded. “What if it beats them all? What then?”

  “I’m sure the ship will be damaged at least. At that point, we’ll have to finish the job. Likewise, if the big ship is easily destroyed, we’ll still have the rest of Earth’s forces to contend with. Listen, people. This isn’t going to be easy. There are no certainties here. If anyone has one, I’d like to hear it.”

  “I’ll give you a certainty,” Jasmine said. “If we fail, we’ll have brought death to our homeworld.”

  “I’m not sure about that. It could be the Blues just want to punish me—or Star Force in general. They might not be genocidal.”

  “You can’t know that. They built the Macros and the Nanos.”

  “And the Nanos helped us, remember? Several of the Blues themselves have expressed regret for having released the Macros by mistake.”

  She nodded but seemed unconvinced.

  The meeting broke up after that because we were reaching the slingshot point, and it was time to lay in the course. I walked back onto the bridge and ordered the entire task force to make a lazy loop around Eden-11 and set course for the Helios ring.

  Within a few minutes, we were sliding sideways around their planet

  “Don’t do so much as ping their world,” I ordered. “Don’t give them any excuses to injure our civilians later.”

  The crew looked glum. I knew they were thinking about the time we’d bombed their planet. I had to admit, this uprising by the Blues did appear to be related to that decision. But I also knew that at that time the Blues had been cooperating with the Macros, bringing a monstrous battle fleet to this system to eradicate us. War was still war, and it always came with regrets.

  It took a few hours, but soon we’d gone around the gas giant in a half-circle, building up a little velocity and a new course. We sailed away ahead of Phobos, toward the distant ring.

  “Miklos,” I said, “get Marvin up here. I want to have a little chat with the Blues.”

  The crew looked at one another in concern. The last time I’d “chatted” with them, one of our carriers had disappeared shortly afterward. I refused to accept the blame for that, however.

  When Marvin appeared, I looked him over carefully. He had changed his configuration over the last few hours.

  Marvin was a robot, but he was unlike any robot in known history. Not only was he sentient due to an incomplete download of his neural chain mind, but he had a creative streak that rivaled the best geniuses in Earth’s history. He was often fascinated by doing something bizarre and unnatural—especially to biotic species like us. But in addition to his medical experimentation, he liked to explore. He’d been forbidden to do so as on too many occasions he’d flown off and gotten us into all kinds of trouble.

  Today, I frowned at his structure in suspicion. He had a number of flat plates under his body, and was no longer dragging himself around with his nanite tentacles.

  “Marvin, I recognize grav plates when I see them,” I said. “What’re you doing with those plastered all over the bottom of your chassis?”

  “‘Plastered’ is an archaic reference. They’re attached with nanite bonding. Essentially, chains of—”

  “I don’t care how you attached them. Those are contraband.”

  “Not specifically, Colonel,” he said. “According to my recorded orders, I’m allowed to possess a sufficient number to allow me ease of movement through the ship.”

  “That’s right, but you’ve got enough plates to lift a tank.”

  “A Star Force standard issue tank weighs approximately—”

  “Stop it, Marvin, just stop it. I’ll tell you what. Just tell me why you outfitted yourself with a half-dozen heavy grav plates and I’ll decide if I’m willing to let you keep them.”

  Marvin’s cameras panned and zoomed, getting my face from every angle, I could tell he was deciding if he should keep dodging or trust my judgment. Since he wasn’t saying anything, I knew I’d given him a tough choice.

  “Well?” I demanded. “Answer, or drop the plates now.”

  “I’ve calculated a sixty one percent chance this vessel will be destroyed within four days.”

  I nodded. I didn’t doubt his figures for a second. Also, I suddenly got it.

  “Ah,” I said. “I see. You want to be ready to jump ship in case we’re hit.”

  “The possibility crossed my mind.”

  “Right. Well, good luck with that. From what we’ve seen so far, we’ll be smashed like a bug hit by a hammer if they catch us.”

  “Do I correctly surmise from your statement that I can keep the propulsion systems?”

  I sighed. “All right. Just get up here and start translating. I want to talk to the Blues.”

  “Excuse me, sir?” Marvin asked promptly. “Do you wish me to relay our signal from a different ship?”

  “No, just send it from this ship. Beam it directly at them.”

  The rest of the crew squirmed as I said these words. I ignored them so I wouldn’t have to reprimand them. Why did they think I should attempt to get the enemy to fire on a different ship? We were all Star Force people, and the other crews had as much right to live as we did. Besides, right now we were safely out of range.

  “Channel request sent,” Marvin said. Less than a minute later, he added: “Channel open.”

  “This is Colonel Kyle Riggs,” I boomed into the microphone. “I was under the impression there was a ceasefire between your people and mine. By attacking us, you have broken the peace and proved yourself to be dishonorable scum.”

  I wasn’t sure how Marvin would translate “scum” into cloud-talk, but I figured it was the thought that counted. We waited a minute or two, giving them time to reply.

  “Anything?”

  The comm officer shook her head.

  I sucked in a deep breath, and turned back to Marvin. “Let’s send them another message.”

  “Ready.”

  “Addressing the aggressors following my ships,” I began in a loud, authoritative voice. “I’m hereby ordering you to stand down. Return your vessel to your planet and await further instructions. Your surrender has been accepted, and your ship will be processed at our convenience.”

  I closed the channel again and waited, arms crossed. During the interval, Captain Sarin came close to me.

  “Sir? What are you doing?” she w
hispered.

  “We have to talk to them,” I said. “They don’t want to talk, so I’m trying to get a response—anything is good. I just want to start up the conversation.”

  “Your messages don’t sound like good diplomacy, Colonel.”

  I shrugged. “I think I’d have made a better police negotiator than a diplomat.”

  She wandered back to her side of the table and went back to tapping at her screens. I was glad I’d given her the Gatre—she’d done well. It was also stimulating to have her back on the same bridge with me.

  “Sir,” said Marvin suddenly, “incoming message.”

  “Translate and pipe it in via our bridge speakers. Let’s hear what the gas-bags have to say.”

  Everyone paused and looked up. Jasmine looked at me, smiled, and shook her head. I think she was surprised I’d managed to get them talking—but not too surprised.

  “This is the being known as Tolerance,” the message began. “We must take issue with your slanderous statements, Colonel Kyle Riggs. We did not initiate this conflict. Nor have we given any indication we wish to surrender. Your thought patterns are in error, and your mind is nothing but wind.”

  I nodded appreciatively. If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d just been called an airhead. That was pretty unique, coming from a talking cloud. I felt a surge of pride. As far as I knew, I was the first man in history to be directly insulted by the Blues.

  “Tolerance!” I shouted, motioning with a spiraling finger toward Marvin, indicating he should keep translating and transmitting. Once you have a fish on the line, you don’t let go. “Old buddy, I haven’t talked to you for a long time. I’m glad to hear it’s you. We can communicate, you and I. We’ve done it in the past and avoided unnecessary destruction for both sides.”

  “We have indeed spoken before. At that time, I warned you that the annihilation of dense-things such as yourself was near at hand. You set this ship I fly within into motion, Kyle Riggs. You brought the events that are about to unfold upon your people. They will soon sing their final songs.”

  I frowned. He didn’t sound like he was talking about just taking out a few of our ships. The bridge crew seemed to have the same idea. They whispered amongst themselves and their eyes were all glued on me.

  I recalled the conversation I’d had with this particular Blue. He’d said something about having the power to wipe humanity from the cosmos. At the time, I’d judged that talk to be threats and bravado from a beaten people. But perhaps—just maybe—this monster ship we were calling Phobos was the doom he’d been bragging about.

  “All right, Tolerance,” I said. “You have my full attention now. What is it you want? How can your anger be appeased?”

  There was a longer delay than usual before the response came in.

  “The being known as Colonel Kyle Riggs must be destroyed. That is our first priority.”

  “Little old me? Why am I first on your list?”

  “Because you have personally insulted, injured and annoyed us for far too long.”

  I nodded, unable to argue with that one.

  “Also,” the gas bag continued, “we have determined that as the military leader of your species, destroying you will ensure your defeat.”

  “That’s quite complimentary,” I said.

  “It was not meant in any way as a compliment.”

  I chuckled. “So, you’re saying you still fear us? Even with this large ship chasing us around?”

  “We do not fear you.”

  I paused, thinking hard. I didn’t believe Tolerance. They did fear us, or at least they feared me. I’d ordered my ships to bomb them. As an arrogant people who thought of themselves as above the squabbles of lesser beings, that had shocked them. I’d actually managed to reach down into the dark soupy ocean of gas they called a home and I’d blown a few of them up. That singular event must have stunned their society. They impressed me as an inward-looking culture, rather like the Chinese dynasties of ages past. That bygone culture had possessed the power to explore the Earth and possibly even conquer it. But they’d turned up their noses at the idea. Everything interesting was in China, so they felt they’d had no need to bother with the barbarians outside their civilized paradise.

  For the Blues, I was the Mongol at the gates. Terrifying, unknown and unexpected. The barbarian that could not be ignored.

  The question was, how could I use that?

  “I’ve spoken with some of your individuals before about honor and mistakes. They said it was a mistake to have released the Macros upon the universe. They said they did not mean to allow them to destroy world after world. Do you personally agree with that sentiment?”

  Another long pause, then: “If you’re trying to absolve yourself of guilt by calling your actions ‘mistakes’, I’m afraid that will not work. You have been tried in absentia, and found guilty of countless crimes. Think of me as an enforcement body seeking to apply appropriate punishment.”

  I leaned forward, interested now. I thought I saw an angle I could work with. “I see, so you’re a policeman, then?”

  “I am much more than that. I am a judicial system.”

  “Judge, jury and executioner?”

  “Your references are unclear.”

  “Never mind then, tell me Tolerance, if one of your people is found guilty of a crime, are all the Blues in the region destroyed?”

  “Destroyed? No. Our punishments usually involve chastisement and isolation. None will taste the cloud that is bitter.”

  “I see. But what of the clouds the guilty party has touched? What of those that are progenitors of the guilty party? Are they punished as well?”

  “Only if they are guilty of performing the same crime themselves.”

  “Ah,” I said, beginning to smile. “Is it justifiable then to annihilate a world because of the actions of an individual?”

  “I see where you’re headed with this, Colonel Riggs. Really, it is a pathetic attempt to dissuade an officer from pursuing his legal duties. You’re not solely responsible for the actions of your species. There are many beings aboard your ships. Thousands of them. They have each caused us harm.”

  “But you don’t understand,” I said. “I’m a military leader. I have been given command of these ships. The beings that attacked your world did so while following my orders. They had no choice in the matter.”

  There was another pause. I sweated during this one. I’d thought I had him, but now I wasn’t so certain.

  “You’ve made an interesting point. I know that dense-things operate differently than we do. You’re telling me that the creatures aboard your ship, even those operating it, are not all there of their own free will?”

  “Essentially, yes,” I said. “They are under my command. I am responsible for everything these vessels do.”

  I spent some time explaining our hierarchical system of command to him. The Blues seemed to have no precedent for it.

  “What did you think ‘Colonel’ meant?” I asked.

  “I assumed it was a moniker, a naming aberration without meaning.”

  “No, it is a title. It is the highest rank currently in Star Force, and I am the office holder with that title. Tell me, Tolerance, how many crewmen do you have aboard your ship?”

  “I have no crewmen. I am the only being operating this vessel.”

  This caused something of a stir among my own people. That ship was so huge, and yet Tolerance ran the entire thing. It brought many new and interesting ideas to my mind, but now wasn’t the time to explore them.

  Tolerance said one final thing then: “I have found this discussion stimulating. I will report back every thought and nuance when I return from this mission. I do not wish to forget the important details. If you would be so kind, I would ask you to slow down so I could finish my task now.”

  I laughed. “You want me to stop my ship so you can blow it up without a chase?”

  “Yes. It would be a convenience. A favor done for an officer executing their sworn duty.�
�

  “I’m afraid I must deny that request, Tolerance.”

  “That is unfortunate.”

  -7-

  As the chase continued, it soon became evident that the Blue’s ship had strengths and weaknesses not shared by our own vessels. As it flew closer to Eden-11, it sped up as we did, but when it flew around the planet and followed us, it did so ponderously. It was as if the ship was a heavy tanker and couldn’t maneuver as well as our lighter craft.

  I ordered my fleet to slow down further, and the captains all along the line began applying braking jets. This didn’t make my crews happy; they wanted to leave Phobos behind. But I didn’t think we had any choice. I didn’t want to lose Tolerance and give the crazy cloud any ideas about attacking other targets in the system.

  “Colonel,” Jasmine asked me, coming to my office specifically to complain. “Are we seriously going to brake in the face of the enemy to keep them within close range?”

  “Have you ever played with a kitten, Captain?”

  She squinted at me. “What?”

  “A kitten—you know, a baby cat.”

  “I don’t understand…well, yes. I suppose I have.”

  “Well, I have too. The trick is to get their attention with a small, moving object. A piece of tissue paper works well. With a bit of string tied to it, you can have hours of fun pulling it away and having the cat chase it. But you know what happens when you yank it away too far? Out of range?”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes at me. I would have been annoyed at the gesture, but she had very pretty eyes and I was being an irritant on purpose.

  “The cat loses interest,” she said.

  “Right. Now, I don’t know if the Blues will operate the same way, but so far their military strategy has been extremely simplistic. They don’t even know how a military command structure works, and I don’t think they have any heavily hierarchical structure in their society.”

  “And the significance of that cultural detail is…?”

  “I suspect they’re less socially sophisticated than we are in certain ways. I believe they can be manipulated—tricked. They won’t see a deception or manipulation until it is too late.”