Paradise (Expeditionary Force Book 3)

by Craig Alanson

  “No. We know that our instruments have not detected any falsehoods. However, our commanders are afraid to release you just yet, for they fear the consequences if it is later discovered that you concealed important information. They are, as you humans say, covering their asses.”

  Perkins smiled wryly. “That sentiment is universal among intelligent species.”

  “There is also the matter that this Joe Bishop escaped from this planet, using technology that should not have been available to humans. Technology that even we do not possess. You will understand, hopefully, that we are rightly concerned that a species controlling such powerful technology might also be able to fool a lie detector.”

  “I see,” Perkins frowned. How could they prove that humans did not have access to technology superior to the Ruhar? They did not possess any such technology. Although Bishop did, or so the Ruhar believed.

  “There is another reason you are still here, Emm-lee,” Mindu said, being unable to pronounce the ‘i’ in Emily. “There is a Jeraptha ship coming to this planet; the Jeraptha wish to question you. They are also concerned that humans had access to technology which allowed a dropship to fly right through the middle of our fleet without detection.”

  “Jeraptha?” Perkins asked with alarm. No human had ever seen or spoken with the patron species of the Ruhar. From the description provided by the Kristang, the Jeraptha were horrible beetle-like insects who would love to feast on humans. The Ruhar had laughed at that clumsy bit of Kristang propaganda, and insisted the Jeraptha were wonderful patrons. Although even the Ruhar admitted privately that they had an instinctive species revulsion toward insects.

  “Do not worry, Emm-lee. The Jeraptha will be gentle. You should be careful, though, they love to play practical jokes.”

  “Jokes?” Perkins exclaimed in surprise.

  “Oh, yes. The Jeraptha love jokes. They laugh frequently. So much that some people make the mistake of underestimating their military potential. The Jeraptha are formidable warriors; they simply think there is no reason they can’t have fun doing it. They also love gambling, even gambling on combat operations.” She shook her head. “They are strange little insects.”

  Seven weeks after they were brought in for questioning, Major Perkins and her three soldiers were outside playing a two-on-two game of volleyball. UNEF had donated a recreation package at the request of the Ruhar; the four humans were growing stir-crazy with the boredom of inactivity. The previous two days had seen solid rain, forcing the four to stay inside except going out for a five mile run that had been Shauna Jarret’s idea. She had qualified for infantry duty, and didn’t want to lose her conditioning. Even though UNEF currently had no openings for infantry. No openings for any jobs other than agriculture.

  Perkins and Czajka were playing against Jarret and Colter. Those two, Shauna and Jesse, had developed a friendship over the almost two months the four had been together. Maybe more than a friendship. There was certainly no UNEF or US Army regulation against it; they were both Specialists, and not even in the same unit. Not that units had any real meaning anymore on Paradise. Perkins would have thought it odd if Shauna didn’t like Jesse Colter. He was attractive, and his southern charm smoothed out his rough edges. Shauna was also from the American South, so they had that in common.

  Major Perkins didn’t care what relationship developed between Shauna and Jesse, other than if their relationship affected Dave Czajka. She had seen him moping by himself while Shauna and Jesse played cards, and the relationship between the two men was strained. She felt bad for ‘Ski’ Czajka. He was nice, and funny, and cute in a way that reminded Perkins a bit of her ex-husband, except Czajka was not a jerk and-

  Alarms wailed across the airbase. “Get down!” Jesse was the first to shout, and they dropped to the damp grass. Before anyone could speak, the ground shook from a series of explosions at the airbase. Maser beams struck first, hitting parked aircraft, then a hypersonic railgun dart hit with a tremendous explosion. It sent a fountain of debris into the air and left a mushroom cloud boiling into the morning sky.

  “Look!” Shauna said while pointing at the sky, her ears ringing. There were not merely one or two lights from Kristang ships jumping in to raid Paradise again; there were a dozen, more than a dozen lights. Many more than a dozen. Blindingly bright, silent explosions in orbit marked where ships were fighting.

  The Kristang were back, in force.

  “Oh damn it!” Jesse groaned and pounded the ground with a fist. “Not this shit again! Can’t those two decide who owns this freakin’ planet?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Paradise

  Commodore Ferlant of the Ruhar task force defending the planet Gehtanu was weary, and so were his ships. His little task force of ships had been on constant alert since the Kristang raids had begun. The crews were tired and morale was low; there had been no opportunity for shore leave, or leave of any kind, for months. Worse than the tiredness of his crews was the wear and tear on his ships; they had not been able to perform proper maintenance since the two battlegroups that had recaptured Gehtanu had departed. In addition to ship components simply reaching the end of their useful lives, his ships had battle damage to fix. Shield generators had taken a beating, railgun magnets developed dead spots, maser cannon exciters overheated and developed microfractures, and jump drive coils fell increasingly out of sync with each other. Even the simple act of the other ships replenishing their missile magazines from the stores carried by the commodore’s cruiser was risky. With so few ships, the Commodore had tried a rotation where one ship jumped away to take systems offline for repairs. But while that ship was, for example, replacing reactor plating, it was vulnerable. So another ship had to jump away with it to provide protection. That left fewer ships to protect an entire planet, and Ferlant’s options for deploying those ships were limited. The enemy, meanwhile, could lurk far away and choose where and when to attack. In between attacks, the enemy’s ships could adhere to a proper maintenance cycle, although the Kristang were notorious for ignoring tasks they considered to be beneath the dignity of a warrior. The Kristang, the commodore thought with a slight smile, would strip out a maser cannon if the beam showed any sign of backscatter, while they would ignore a critical fault in power management systems. More than once in the Commodore’s career, he had seen Kristang ships rendered defenseless because a minor hit had caused some poorly-maintained system inside the ship to fail. The Ruhar were always willing to remind the Kristang of the importance of proper maintenance, and that reminder came in the form of a railgun dart or missile ripping a crippled ship apart. Ferlant thought that the Kristang would have learned their lesson after they’d lost several dozen ships needlessly, but fortunately for the Ruhar, the Kristang warrior caste seemed immune to learning.

  So, the Commodore considered, did his own government seem immune to learning sometimes. After his small task force had been detached to defend Gehtanu, he had complained with increasing vigor that he did not have enough ship to defend a backwater planet. Leaving a small force of ships had been a reasonable idea, back when intelligence strongly indicated that the Thuranin were pulling out of the area. The Thuranin were not willing to risk any more ships for Gehtanu, the Kristang could not afford to retake the planet on their own, and the Ruhar government was secretly negotiating to hand the planet back to the lizards anyway. Under those conditions, assigning only a handful ships was reasonable, perhaps even excessive.

  Then the raids began. At first the Commodore thought the raiders were one or two desperate ships would had been left behind when the Thuranin pulled out of the area. His ships had destroyed a Kristang frigate during the second raid. Back then, the commodore had been confident that he could handle the raiders; one or two ships without support would soon run out of missiles and their systems would break down.

  Then, the raiders kept coming. His sensors so far had identified three frigates and a destroyer, and they must have support somewhere in the star system. Chasing gamma ray bursts wa
s not practical for the commodore; by the time the light from a distant burst reached Gehtanu, the enemy ships would have moved far away. So far, his ships had destroyed two enemy frigates, with heavy damage to one of his own frigates. If this battle became a war of attrition, the Ruhar were likely to lose eventually.

  Gehtanu did not have any defenses of its own; no missile batteries or maser cannons or railguns buried deep beneath the surface, no stealthed hunter-killer satellites, no network of damping field satellites that could entrap a raiding ship. Gehtanu had grain, and farmers, and some pleasant if dull places to build a house and raise a family.

  If the Ruhar government intended to bargain away the planet below, the commodore thought they should hurry the process along. It was bitter to think that his ships and crews were risking themselves only to drag out the negotiations, in hopes of driving a better deal for the Ruhar. A deal that would provide no direct benefit for Ferlant’s little task force, nor for the Ruhar residents of Gehtanu. And certainly not for the hapless humans.

  Until there was a change in the situation, Commodore Ferlant saw his responsibility as defending the critical facilities of the northern continent named Tenturo, such as the cargo Launcher, plus the few cities, military bases and any place that contained enough supplies and infrastructure to be a tempting target to the Kristang. The planetary government had helped by emptying warehouses and dispersing their contents, so much that Ferlant thought with mild amusement it must be driving the enemy commander crazy to have so few high-value targets on the surface.

  Maybe the government had done too good a job of reducing the number of targets on the planet. There had been no raid for fifteen days. Fifteen days during which time the enemy was able to rest and bring their ships into optimum condition. Fifteen days during which Ferlant’s ships had to remain on alert every minute. His force steadily grew weaker, while the enemy could build up their strength. The situation could not continue, so Commodore Ferlant had taken a calculated risk. Two of his destroyers were now in stealth, parked above the northern continent just higher than jump altitude. He had been jumping his other healthy ships in and out in hope that the enemy cold lose track of his little force, and not notice that two ships were not accounted for.

  The next time the enemy jumped in, Ferlant’s two destroyers would link overlapping damping fields, preventing the enemy from jumping away. Below the pair of destroyers, the planet’s gravity well would prevent a jump, and if enemy ships climbed out of the gravity well, they would become trapped by the damping field. The Commodore was counting on his plan to kill one, even two enemy ships with limited risk to his own force. Such a triumph would make the Kristang think twice about challenging-

  “Ship jumping in! Another!” Called an officer on the bridge of Ferlant’s cruiser Ruh Gastalo. “Frigate and a destroyer, we know these two.”

  Once again, To Seek Glory in Battle is Glorious appeared over Paradise in a burst of gamma radiation, this time accompanied by the familiar destroyer We are Proud to Honor Clan Sub-Leader Rash-au-Tal Vergent who Inspires us Every Day. The captain and crew of the Glory were not happy; crewmembers on the bridge shared knowing glances when they saw their captain’s hand shook slightly. This was not supposed to be a mission for the Glory, repairs to her critical jump drive coils were only half complete; the normal maintenance cycle had been cut short by an unexpected event. That event was the destruction of her brother frigate Every day is a Good Day to Die in Battle. The honor of this raid was supposed to have gone to the Good Day, but as that ship had a very bad day, the Glory had been pulled back into service. Glory’s drive coils were so badly out of alignment that she had been forced to reach Pradassis in three short jumps, to minimize the inaccuracy of her jump navigation system. Even with the time-consuming precautions, Glory emerged forty seven thousand kilometers off course. Her crew noticed bitterly that their heavy escort Vergent was also off course, although that destroyer’s drive coils had recently been calibrated. Even if the Glory had been where she was supposed to be, the Vergent was unforgivably not in position to protect the smaller ship.

  The Glory’s crew understandably wondered whether the Vergent was out of position on purpose.

  As soon as the Glory’s dazed navigation system determined the ship’s position, the frigate spun on its tail and burned hard to get where she was supposed to be. Without waiting to get into the optimal position, the little ship fired her maser cannon in searing pulses at designated targets on the surface and launched a volley of missiles, two at a time. The Vergent proceeded to her assigned position more leisurely, taking a roundabout course that kept her further away from the planet, so the destroyer could more quickly jump away if needed. The Glory had no such option; she had emerged at too low an altitude and her course was taking her even deeper into the planet’s gravity well.

  One Ruhar frigate altered course to engage the Glory, while two other frigates accelerated toward the Vergent. The captain of the Vergent ordered the Glory to continue its assigned mission, while the destroyer would ‘lure the pair of Ruhar frigates away’. The cowardice of the destroyer’s crew did not fool the Kristang frigate, but there was nothing they could do about it.

  As the heavier ship climbed rapidly to jump distance, the Glory shifted her aim to the single Ruhar frigate opposing her. Maser beams lanced out from both ships, impacting each other’s shields. The two ships were too close to dodge speed of light weapons; the normal laws of space combat did not apply when the combatants were within a hundred thousand kilometers and closing rapidly. They flew past each other, neither able to change course fast enough, neither able to score a decisive hit. Both ships spun around to face each other, still drawing apart, their engines straining to cancel their velocity and bring them together again.

  Commodore Ferlant wondered at the actions of the Kristang frigate his sensor systems had designated ‘Target Beta’. They knew Beta well, as that frigate had participated in almost every raid. Based on the excess gamma radiation of that ship’s clumsy jump in, the Kristang frigate was not in good condition. Having survived a direct engagement with one of Ferlant’s defenders, the enemy ship should now be climbing to jump altitude to escape. Instead, Target Beta had its engines burning at full power to bring it back above the northern continent. Why was Beta not attempting to escape? Did the enemy ship already know about the two Ruhar destroyers in stealth above it? No, Ferlant concluded, the enemy had not yet detected his trap, because the enemy destroyer, designated Target Delta, was still below jump altitude and moving leisurely to attack a pair of Ferlant’s frigates.

  With a single word, Ferlant sprung his trap. First, his own cruiser Ruh Gastalo performed a short jump in behind the enemy destroyer, to flush that ship toward the stealthed destroyers. The Gastalo’s jump left large areas of the northern continent unguarded; that would be worth the opportunity to eliminate two enemy ships. Immediately after detecting Ferlant’s cruiser, Target Delta had changed course, frantically climbing toward jump distance. And that is when the two Ruhar destroyers announced their presence by activating their damping fields. The pair of destroyers were close enough that their damping fields overlapped, making the fabric of spacetime even more turbulent and increasing the effectiveness of the damping effect.

  The Vergent’s captain saw that he was trapped. Below him were a pair of enemy frigates, above were a pair of destroyers and behind was a cruiser. The Vergent could not jump away and could not outfight five enemy ships, so she plunged forward and screamed for the Glory to protect her.

  The crew of the Glory almost could not believe what they heard, and asked for confirmation that the powerful destroyer wanted help from their worn-out little frigate. When they received confirmation, they asked one more time to force the Vergent’s captain to scream at them over an open channel. The entire Ruhar task force heard, and soon so would the Kristang. With a shrug, the Glory’s crew altered course to engage two rather than one enemy frigate. But the single enemy frigate also adjusted course, and soon the Glo
ry would have to fight off three ships of her own size.

  The battle was chaos. Maser beams stabbed out, deflected by weakening shields. Railgun darts and missiles flew across the void. Masers shifted focus to knock darts off course and obliterate missiles, and it became a matter of how much maser fire a ship’s shields could absorb before failing. The Glory was losing the battle, having become the focus of fire from all three frigates. The only reason she had survived so long was her clumsy navigation system threw off the aim of her opponents, which became less useful as the distances between the four frigates shrank.

  While the frigates had their own private battle, Ruh Gastalo and the two Ruhar destroyers concentrated fire on Target Delta; the Vergent.

  Commodore Ferlant studied the Gastalo’s main tactical display, running the view back to the beginning of the battle, then fast forward. “Smeth,” he asked his executive officer, “do their tactics seem strange to you?”

  The XO nodded. “Yes, I was about to mention that. At first, I thought that destroyer was flying high cover for the frigate.” That frigate, that particular, too-familiar ship that had been the bane of the defense task force’s existence since the raids began. “They jumped in too far apart to support each other; the frigate’s jump drive is badly out of sync, so that part could have been unintended. But when they began maneuvering, the destroyer moved independently, it did not alter course to protect the frigate. Also, the destroyer has not fired at the planet. The frigate has fired its maser cannon, but not any important target.” He indicated the areas struck by the frigate’s maser. “This is uninhabited forest. It’s not even agricultural land. If there were some sort of hidden target there that we can’t see, they didn’t even shoot at it long enough to make a difference. They shifted aim with every pulse. Sir, it appears that they want us to think this is a raid, but this time they don’t want to cause any damage. And now the destroyer has been screaming for the frigate to protect it,” Smeth said the last with a raised eyebrow. The Kristang frigate was in poor condition, it was not capable of protecting its larger, more heavily protected companion.