Star Force 10: Outcast

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Star Force 10: Outcast Page 36

by B. V. Larson


  I held up a hand, and he paused.

  “Senior Lomm, if you do that, whoever takes your place may make a rash decision to fire on Klak. Eat your tail if you must, but not until the battle has been fought. If your valiant forces are defeated, it will not matter as your homeworld will be wiped clean of life. If you win, then you can decide to display your honor.”

  Lomm lowered his head. “I’m reduced to listening to the twisted wisdom of aliens…but for my people, I will swallow dung if I must. Commodore Riggs, all I ask is that you help us live.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I raised my hands in the best Raptor salute I could manage, though without a tail it wasn’t quite the same. “Good luck, sir. Call me again if I can assist you in any way.”

  “You’re getting pretty good at this diplomacy stuff, sir,” Hansen said after the channel closed.

  “Thanks…I think.” I didn’t point out that the more scruples people had, the easier they were to manipulate. Turning back to the holotank, I saw the shipyards had been secured and now at least a dozen tugs had launched. Eight speeded to the orbital fortresses, one per sphere, and the others pushed barges toward one particular globe.

  “It’s working,” I said to nobody in particular. Then I called down to Engineering, contacting Adrienne and Sakura. “Pretty soon you’ll have all the materials you need,” I assured them. “Did you get the specs on the Raptor power systems?”

  “Yes, Captain,” Adrienne replied. “We’ve already created adaptive transformers and modified the mega-AP plans to use their power grid.”

  “Excellent.” I switched channels. “Marvin, I’m going to need your help.”

  “I am very busy, Captain Riggs.”

  “Sorry, Captain Marvin. But that’s Commodore Riggs now.”

  “I’m not certain that it’s legal for you to promote yourself that way.”

  “As I’m the only Star Force authority within hundreds of lightyears, I’m making it legal. It’s only an acting rank anyway, subject to ratification.” I hadn’t forgotten that Marvin recorded everything and sometimes used blackmail to get what he wanted, so I was trying to keep my eventual court-martial clean and simple. “Anyway, Captain Marvin, I need your help with a rush project. Get the plans from Sakura, and start work on melding the frigates into the hull of Valiant.”

  “I already have plans for such an operation, but managing the actual process will require most of my mental and physical capacity for the next day.”

  “I could order you to do it, but I’d rather have your full and enthusiastic cooperation. I do have something you might like to examine…”

  After a pregnant pause, he couldn’t stand it any longer. “Yes, Commodore Riggs? What is it?”

  “A dead Raptor.”

  “Oh,” he said in a disappointed tone. “I already have several. I retrieved them from the aftermath of the battle.”

  “Really?” There went my leverage. Maybe. “In what condition?”

  “Poor, unfortunately. Nothing but irradiated and burned fragments, to be honest.”

  “This one was freshly killed hours ago, and then flash-frozen. Wouldn’t you like to have the corpse? Surely it would be better than your burnt, broken and freeze-dried specimens.”

  Clicks and pops came over the com-link as some kind of nervous sounds from Marvin, and I knew I had his interest. “All right, Commodore. Please have the corpse waiting in the launch bay.”

  “Not until we’re done with the battle, Marvin. I can’t have you distracted.”

  “When the battle is over, there’ll be ample Raptor bodies to recover even some in good condition.” He complained. “Your offer hardly seems fair.”

  “All right. I’ll give you the body when you get the ships connected together, but you also have to be available to help with anything else that may come up. If we don’t win this battle, all the scientific knowledge in the world won’t matter much.”

  “To you, perhaps. I do not intend to sacrifice myself in a hopeless conflict.”

  “You think it’s hopeless?”

  “Perhaps hopeless is too strong a term. Let us say that your chances are less than optimal.”

  By that, I assumed Marvin figured he would fly like a bat out of Hell before a beam or missile got anywhere near him. Well, I couldn’t really blame him. He wasn’t inhabiting a warship, though I suspected Greyhound was now far more capable than he let on.

  “Optimal or not, you are part of Star Force, so I need your maximum effort. Deal?”

  “I always put forth my maximum effort.” Sounding huffy, he closed the channel.

  “Sure you do,” I muttered. “But maximum effort for who?”

  -37-

  Like any good engineer, Marvin had overestimated the time he would need to complete the process of joining the frigates to Valiant. Working madly with Greyhound’s many external arms, he quickly dismounted smaller beams and other external fixtures then smart-welded the frigates to the outside of the battlecruiser. The result was a Frankenstein’s monster of a ship—or maybe it should be called a small mobile battle station.

  Inside the new Valiant, Sakura and her people frantically connected all the power systems together, building everything so that the ship could take all the juice possible and feed it to every antiproton weapon we had.

  “I need more raw materials,” she told me partway through the process. “We’ve cannibalized everything we could. You promised me enough to build what we needed—not to mention these monster weapons we haven’t even started on.”

  “I know, Sakura,” I assured her. “The materials should be coming aboard very soon.”

  In the holotank I could see the first of a chain of Raptor tugs. It dragged an enormous barge and struggled to counter the inertia as it was already decelerating and maneuvering to dock with us. If Klak’s people had done their work, the container should be filled with everything the Raptor shipyards hadn’t specifically needed to repair their own ships—batteries, structural steel, foodstuffs, water, spare parts, whatever could be found. Of course, many of the parts couldn’t be used in their current form. The tolerances were all wrong, and design of the couplings was hopelessly alien. But that didn’t really matter. If we couldn’t use something in its present state, we planned to feed it to the factory and turn it into whatever we needed.

  Kwon and his marines were put to work as laborers again with the usual grumbling. I reminded him of the old saying: “The troops ain’t happy unless they’re bitching,” and he laughed. The marines in their battle armor carried huge loads though widened portals, slowly emptying the cavernous barge. Three other supply vessels lined up behind the first.

  All of this activity was matched on the Raptor side as the big orbital fortresses, each larger than a Star Force battleship, were pushed into place by the tugs as soon as they’d delivered their cargo to us. Soon, the eight spheres formed around us like eight balls glued together as closely as possible. Valiant began to resemble a molecular model, like a cube with rounded corners. If Klak’s people were following the plan, they would be connecting and reinforcing their power systems, removing sixteen of their own beam weapons and preparing their mounts and targeting systems to adapt to the ones we were constructing with the factory. As our APs were at least a hundred times as powerful and ten times as efficient as theirs, this would create a super-fortress with long-range firepower.

  Once we had produced the APs for the Raptors, I had the engineering people make more armor and refine the control systems for the shields so we could cover a number of different sections of Valiant. If we lost weapons in an area, I wanted to be able to screen there to improve our survivability. This would be a set-piece battle anyway, and we had given up a lot of mobility to turn our battlecruiser into an ugly, cobbled-together battleship.

  At the end of a long, exhausting day, most of the work had been done. I handed over the Raptor corpse to Marvin as I’d promised him and ordered an eight-hour stand-down. A ration of two alcoholic beverages per person was
issued. I made a quick round of the ship with a drink in my hand, a sure-fire way to show I was no longer in command mode, and I praised everyone’s effort. Then I headed to my cabin.

  My door had barely closed before I heard it chime. “Come in.”

  Adrienne entered, looking worn out.

  “What happened to all that stuff about never socializing with me again?” I asked. I regretted the words the moment they’d popped out of my mouth. I kicked myself mentally, wondering what I was trying to accomplish. Dad used to tell me no man ever really won an argument with a woman—even if he got his way—because such victories were Pyrrhic. The win always cost more than it was worth.

  Her neutral expression froze, and she turned around to walk out.

  “Adrienne, I’m sorry. I…I’m tired, and that was a stupid thing to say. Please don’t go.”

  Stopping with her back to me, she put a hand on the door frame. “I stopped by to apologize—for the last time we talked. I shouldn’t have lectured you on how to command.”

  “Well, you had some good points,” I said, walking slowly toward her but stopping at arm’s length. With Adrienne’s back turned, I had the strongest feeling of déjà vu, as if I was looking at Olivia. The shape, the size—everything about her was the same. She even had some of the same presence, I guess that’s what you would call it.

  This brought a confusing wave of thoughts and memories to my mind. A few months ago I’d seen Olivia lying in her coffin—but I could hardly recall her face. I struggled to push such thoughts aside and focus on the here and now. I raised a hand to touch her shoulder—but thought the better of it and pulled my hand back.

  “You were right,” I said. “You’re still right. Just as soon as we’re not in immediate danger I’ll put some thought into setting up a better structure and a new routine. Something that will help people function over the long term under these unusual stresses. You can advise me.”

  “Hansen’s your XO.”

  “But he’s not my friend.” Even as I said it, I no longer felt it was completely true. He and I had been getting along reasonably well since we had our little chat in the pool room.

  “Is that all I am?”

  Both of us fell silent. I didn’t even breathe for a moment. Adrienne didn’t turn around.

  My world whirled and I felt as if yawning pits had opened up before and behind me, emotional crevasses where one misstep would send me plunging to my doom. What did she mean? Had she been Olivia, the question would have been coy, playful, and teasing. Adrienne didn’t tease and bait the way her sister loved to do. Her lighter side was deeper down and muted. Maybe that was because of her sister’s death—I just didn’t know, as I hadn’t really known what she was like before the tragedy.

  “No, that’s not all,” I finally admitted, but I had no idea where this was going to go. Was she inviting me to make a move or just letting me know she was open to future possibilities? And how could I reconcile her with the images of her sister that still haunted me? “But…”

  Before I could say any more, she palmed the portal open and slipped out into the passageway. She didn’t even look back. She left me staring at the closed door.

  Slowly, I made my way to my bunk and fell into it. I grumbled about crazy women giving mixed signals and sipped a beer. I was grateful when sleep finally came.

  * * *

  Valiant came to life again when the Lithos were only a few hours out of range. I drummed on the arm of my chair as I looked from the holotank to various screens and back again, weighing the situation.

  Ensconced at the core of a cluster of Raptor battle stations, Valiant was effectively sixty times its original tonnage with the attached orbital stations counted in. I didn’t like the lack of mobility they represented, but I savored our increased range. According to my plan, Klak had placed us squarely between the approaching Lithos and his homeworld.

  I wondered at the sanity of my gamble. Sure, we might save a world, but was it our job to do so? Maybe in the future these sentient-eating Raptors would come to Earth and dine on my kin. If that did happen at some point, would they laugh about the fool of an ensign who saved their race a century before?

  I spent the final minutes going over our new technical specs. The power cable which the Raptor space workers had attached to us was fully six feet in diameter. It should be able to provide us with all the energy we needed and more. In fact, I hoped Sakura had made sure our fuses and breaker systems were robust and ready. An overload could do us serious damage.

  Similar connections linked the stations to one another. As only the forward facing four spheres contained the new APs, the back four could pump masses of current through the conduits to help power everything.

  Our battlesuited marines, under the supervision of a couple of bosun’s mates, had dragged and pushed the heavy cables until they mated up with the giant plugs Sakura had designed for them. Behind the plugs squatted a transformer-converter, and then the smaller cables carried the juice to our weapons. Valiant was now a mobile pillbox, though dwarfed by the gargantuan spheres attached to her hull.

  If only the Lithos didn’t make us all look tiny in comparison. My only hope was in our superior reach and firepower. Unfortunately, they had a lot more targets and each of them could take a huge amount of punishment.

  Klak’s fleet hung in space behind the reimagined Valiant, ringing us like a bull’s-eye. I stood up to more closely examine the holotank and then zoomed in on the approaching Litho fleet.

  “They’re closing up their formations,” I said. The enemy ships were drawing closer and closer together, but they were still aimed directly at Orn Prime. I was happy they were as predictable and direct as always. After studying them for a full minute more, I came to another conclusion.

  “I think they’re imitating us,” I said.

  Hansen let Valiant hold station and joined me. “Kinda looks that way, huh? What will that do for their position?”

  I found myself rubbing my neck. “I’m not sure, but I have an ugly suspicion. Nothing can be done now, anyway.”

  A dozen latecomers to the Litho fleet drifted close to the central mass and joined the formation. The enemy had wisely slowed down enough to join up its ships. They planned to hit us with one fist. They’d all grouped themselves around the repaired dreadnought. We now faced over one hundred sixty ships, none of which massed less than the mega-station itself.

  I mused that I now understood how pikemen must have felt in the distant past when facing armored cavalry on a medieval battlefield. Intellectually I knew our weapons would reach out farther and kill the enemy before they could kill us, but that didn’t keep the pit of my stomach from believing we’d be crushed under the charging wave in the end.

  Charging wave…if I remembered right, massed knights would destroy infantry as much by crushing and riding them under as with their lances and swords. Suddenly, I realized what the enemy was going to do, and there seemed to be no way to stop them.

  “Get me Klak,” I ordered. A moment later the connection was made. “Senior Klak, are your people on the planet below as ready as they can be? In shelters, evacuated from cities, and in the hills?”

  “Some are, Commodore Riggs. Others refused to leave. Oddly, many will not believe in the severity of the danger.”

  These Raptors seemed more human to me all the time. “Klak, I want to tell you something, but it’s for your ears alone.” I waited until he moved to a private booth aboard his flagship.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I believe I know what the Lithos will do.” Then I told him.

  Klak took it well. “We can only do what we can do. At least your plan may yet save billions below us, and if we’re defeated, so too will be the Lithos. Senior Kleed will succeed me and, with his last hundred ships, he will defend our star system. If I’m fortunate, I’ll be remembered as one who sacrificed everything for his people—even my honor.”

  “Don’t give up yet, Klak. I might be wrong. No matter wha
t, half a planet is better than nothing.”

  “I agree.” Klak said. He saluted me, and I returned it. “Now let’s see to our forces,” he said, “and may the One Above All grant us victory!”

  “Yeah. Include me in your prayers,” I said, cutting the channel. If there were gods, like my mother believed, I wasn’t above accepting a little help from them. “Hey, where’s Marvin?”

  Scanning the holotank, I couldn’t see Greyhound. A few seconds later a familiar voice emanated from the console in front of me.

  “I took your suggestion and moved well away from the zone of battle,” Marvin said.

  “I didn’t suggest—never mind. Fine. Just be ready to help if we need it.”

  Again a perceptible time lag of about six or seven seconds passed indicating Marvin was already a million or so miles away and probably retreating further even now. Beams could strike out to about a million miles, though not well or with much hit probability. I bet myself he would continue his withdrawal until he was outside that range.

  “Riggs to Klak. I suggest you open fire now. I do not believe the Lithos will do much dodging, and with unlimited energy, the more we shoot the better.”

  No verbal acknowledgement returned, but a moment later the mega-fortress began a rolling barrage. I’d wanted Klak to have his gunners test the system, but he’d been concerned that would telegraph our new capabilities. His people were going to get to practice on live targets—if Lithos were really alive.

  The first few shots missed even the enormous target the Lithos had become. The flying mountains had physically joined up with their dreadnought, turning themselves into a stupendous arrowhead pointed at Orn Prime. In the vastness of space they were only the size of an average asteroid, but any object that size with a mind of its own was frightening. Soon though, the mega-APs were scoring every time causing volcanic eruptions of magma flash-heated on the surface of the Litho titan. Hundred-meter divots appeared as the lava bursts threw flowing rock into space as if each one was an unstoppable fusion warhead. With the huge power generation capacity of the fortresses, sixteen shots slammed home every ten seconds or so. This meant a hundred shots a minute, six thousand an hour.

 

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