“Goddammit,” yelled the former Imperial Marine Corps Gunnery Sergeant, who had accepted a promotion to become an officer in the Bolthole militia. “One of my old Marine squads could take on the whole mess of you.” She glared at the twenty people on the line, who stood there sheepishly looking at the targets, most of which had not taken a hit. Considering that the beams were basically flat trajectory, it took real talent to miss.
She turned her gaze on the other hundred and forty members of the company, including the three second lieutenants who between them had two years of real service time. “If the damned Machines end up invading this facility, all of you might as well place your rifle barrels in your stomachs and pull the trigger. It would be quicker and cleaner, but I figure most of you wouldn’t be able to figure it out.
“Now try again, and this time try to hit something besides the barrier wall behind the target,” she yelled.
“Ma’am,” said a small woman who otherwise had seemed one of her best soldiers. “I’m having trouble keeping the barrel up.”
“For God’s sake,” growled the Company Commander, striding forward to stand over the other woman. Both were wearing state of the art light infantry armor, built on the asteroid. She looked over the woman’s suit, then cursed again. “Why is your suit offline?” The suits were easily the most important part of their panoply. They increased the operational strength of the wearer to twice that of a strong man, while furnishing them with a suite of sensors that enhanced their natural senses. They protected the wearer from low velocity pellets, while furnishing some defense against lasers and higher velocity pellets, but they were more or less useless against hyper velocity rounds and particle beams. Still, they were much better than skin.
“I booted everything up,” said the Private Nonni Zumwalt, a whine in her voice.
“Uh huh. And did you set it up to charge since you last used it.”
The Private looked confused for a moment. “Shit,” she finally said, shaking her head. “I forget, ma’am. I was already tired from working all day, then coming here to train.”
“That is no fucking excuse,” screamed the former Marine in her face. “If you’re tired now, you can get all the rest you need when one of those murderous machines spill your guts all over the deck.”
And we really don’t know that much about them, thought the Lieutenant. They didn’t know how advanced they were technologically. The experts thought they were centuries behind the Empire, but they really didn’t know. What they did know was that what they were fighting would have no feelings, no regrets. That every bit of organic life would be its enemy. While they couldn’t hate, they could formulate plans based on what had happened in the past. And based on the past, the humans were their greatest enemy and obstacle.
“Everyone check your suits,” she yelled out at the company. “Everyone with a dead suit, step away from the firing line. Those with full charges take their places. Then we’ll see if some of you can hit the broad side of a planet.”
Eighteen militia stood at the line, all that had suits in full working order. They aimed, fired, and all achieved hits.
“That’s more like it,” said Ngursky, nodding. At least we’ll melt down a couple of the damned things before they murder all of us.
Chapter Seven
Only the unknown frightens men. But once a man has faced the unknown, that terror becomes the known.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery
BOLTHOLE.
“We are, of course, glad to see you, Admiral,” said Admiral Anaru Henare, holding out his hand for the other flag officer to take. “You’ve more than doubled our ship strength.”
“It was a difficult decision, Admiral,” said Rear Admiral Nguyen van Hung, grasping the hand of the full Admiral. “Klassek also needed to be defended, but I figured they would get reinforcements before you, since you are way out here on the edge of nowhere.”
Henare nodded, the smile never leaving his face. The four battle cruisers that Nguyen had brought with him equaled what he already had in the system, but they were all in top working condition, only needing to be resupplied with hyper capable missiles, of which they had plenty in the warehouses. Three heavy cruisers more than doubled his force of those ships, and Nguyen had brought along more light cruisers and destroyers than he had on hand as well.
“Have a seat, Admiral,” suggested Henare, gesturing to one of the comfortable chairs at the table. “Would you like some coffee? Tea?”
Nguyen nodded, and Henare closed his eyes for a moment, sending an order through his link for refreshments to be delivered to the office
“Of course, I will want you to command one of the task forces, along with Khrushchev. Gonzales will be in overall command of the system defense. If that is acceptable to you, being Exploration Command and all.”
“Hell, Admiral Henare. I was going to insist on some kind of command, even if just a battle cruiser division. I may be an explorer, but that’s not what you need right now. You need fighters, and damned if I wasn’t one before I turned into an explorer and a diplomat.”
“I was hoping you would say that,” said Henare with a laugh. “And now that we’ve got you here, I’m going to order you to head out to the barrier with the force we’re going to be giving you.”
“What’s going on out there?” asked Nguyen, leaning forward in his seat.
The door to the office opened, and a Chief Petty Officer came through with a tray which he set on the table. Henare waited a moment for the NCO to leave before pulling up a holo of the system. A lot of tracks appeared on that holo, while the time stamp showed it advancing hours in a minute. The tracks appeared approaching the hyper barrier, sometimes translating down, other times changing vectors and curving around the barrier.
“We’ve been tracking the damned machines, if that’s what they are, flitting about outside the system for weeks now. We can never really tell how many there are. We have counted up to twenty-two appearing at the same time, most often smaller groups. So we really don’t know if there are twenty-two of the damned things, or a thousand.”
The tracks showed estimated tonnages on the bogies, none more massive than four million tons, none less than eight hundred thousand.
“If there were a thousand of them,” said Nguyen, studying the holo playback, “they would have already overrun the system. So I doubt they had much more than you already had here as far as capabilities go, unless they wanted to be damned sure they could take you. And now, with what we brought along, they have to be even more unsure of themselves.”
“I agree,” Henare, nodding. “I’m also sure that more is on the way. They know we’re here, the hated enemy. The only concentration of the hated enemy within range of their region at the moment, except for the scouts you sent out. Good job that, by the way.”
“And you want me out by the barrier for?”
“We have a wormhole coming,” said Henare, nodding as he saw the smile appear on the Rear Admiral’s face. “I really don’t know what’s going to be carrying it, but what I do know is, based on the projected arrival date the courier brought, it has to be something hyper VII. As far as we know, the Machines can’t get into hyper VII, so whatever is carrying it should be safe enough on the way here. The danger will come when they translate down into VI, and the machines can attack them. They may not even know what they are attacking, but unless it’s a powerful force, attack they will.”
“What can I have?”
“Three battle cruisers, two heavy cruisers, four lights, and ten destroyers,” said Henare. “That gives us an augmented inner system force, and gives you a strong strike force. I also want you to attempt to protect the supermetal production facility out there, but don’t give them an easy target by splitting your force.”
“Not giving me an easy task, are you, sir?”
“No, but it’s one I think you can handle, if anyone can. But remember, your priority is to protect that wormhole until we can get it into the system and set it up. The s
upermetal production facility is important, but more important is for us to establish communications back to the Empire, and to gain the ability to reinforce if necessary. The Empire has a terrific investment in this place. But more important, we have a lot of people out here, and it is my duty to protect them. The wormhole will make that a much easier prospect.”
“I only wish I had more actual warships,” said Nguyen, putting down his cup of coffee and looking over at the Admiral. “Most of what we have are explorers, which are fine for defending themselves against a weak opponent. But our lack of missile capability concerns me, when we might be heading into a heavy combat situation.”
“We’re working on that,” said Henare, shaking his head and reaching for his own cup. “Something to give us some more firepower in a missile duel. At least in the short term. But nothing will be ready in time to help you. Sorry.”
“We have what we have,” said Nguyen, nodding. “And how much time do I have to get my command organized and moving.”
“Take all the time that you need,” said Henare with a smile. “Take an hour. Then I need you to get your ass moving.”
“Deployment order?”
“That’s up to you, Admiral,” said Henare. “I always believed that the mission commander, the officer on the spot, should make the tactical decisions. So I leave it up to you.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best to make sure that wormhole gets here,” said Nguyen, standing up. “With your permission I’ll get the ball rolling.”
Henare sat back in his chair after the lower ranking flag officer had left. He really wanted to lead that force himself. Not that he didn’t trust the officers under him, but sometimes when the weight of responsibility rested on one’s shoulders, that one wanted to be at the tip of the spear. But I’m responsible for this whole shooting match, he thought, shaking his head. He couldn’t afford to go out on a mission that took him away from his post, even with the instantaneous communications the Klassekians now gave them.
And that’s another temptation the senior command has to dance around, thought Henare. Now there was the risk of standing over the shoulder of the commander on the spot, removing all responsibility and initiative from that officer. Something that higher commanders would have to think about from now on.
* * *
KLASSEK SYSTEM.
Captain Vergar Slaviska sat in the command seat on the small bridge of his fast attack craft and watched the plot that showed ships coming toward the system. The crest of feathers rose on the crown of his head in agitation. His predator instincts were warring with his common sense. All he had was his ten thousand ton attack ship with its four capital ship missiles. The other eleven ships that he currently had under his command were sitting at other orientations around the perimeter of the system, well outside the hyper barrier where they could sit as early warning platforms. But even if he had his entire force together it would be a suicide run against the number of warships forging in.
Slaviska had come up in fighters, then transferred to the larger attack craft. He loved the fast, maneuverable little ships, but had to admit they weren’t all that survivable in anything but the ambush of a single warship. He was nominally in charge of every FAC and fighter in the system, and had been promised more. The Gryphon Spacer had been in the Fleet long enough to know what that meant, and would believe it when his two red eyes beheld them.
“Make sure command is getting this,” his said in the slurred Terranglo that was the best his beak could produce. The Klassekian Com Tech nodded, understanding through their linked implants, and closed his eyes.
“They know, sir,” said the Klassekian moments later. “They know.”
* * *
“They’re back, sir,” called out Commodore Gertrude Hasselhoff, her face appearing on the holo over the General’s desk.
With a thought Travis Wittmore pulled up the tactical holo which was getting its feed from the Commodore’s battle cruiser. All of the Imperial ships not in orbit were indicated by blinking icons on the holo, in stable orbits, drives powered down, even their transponders offline. The icons were representations of where they were thought to be based on their last transponder transmission. The objects in orbit, all linked by short range laser com, were where they really were. That included the Commodore’s battle cruiser, a few other ships, and the station that was being assembled from the orbital factories brought by the Empire.
And further out, approaching the hyper VI barrier, were twenty objects, driving in on while decelerating by twelve hundred gravities. They appeared to be on a profile that would bring them to the barrier at a velocity of point four light.
“Are those our boys? Back for another visit?”
“That seems to be the analysis of our tactical people,” said the Commodore, a concerned expression on her face.
“Another scout flyby?”
“My tactical people think not. If they just wanted to scout the system, they would have done so on the last trip. We think they are here on a strike mission.”
“Crap,” yelled the General. Their space defenses hadn’t improved that much since the last visit. The nano-fabbers in orbit had produced some more defense sats, and there were now over a hundred of them attached to factories or the station, ready for deployment. That was added to the hundred that the Empire had deployed. Those units were much more advanced, with full stealth packages. He wished he had a thousand more, but he only had what he had, and was not going to get more until a reinforcing convoy made it to the system. He wasn’t sure when that was going to happen, but definitely not before this group came and did their business.
The ground defenses had been growing at a much faster rate, the Klassekian military now the proud possessor of light infantry battle suits, high velocity mag rifles, and a few particle beams. Not enough of anything to equip their entire army, but sufficient for almost a corps of two and a half divisions. About a hundred shore defense guns that had been dropped off by the Empire, and some Imperial missile batteries were about all he had to fight ships in orbit. And they were only effective if the enemy came close to the planet, while the ground troops were not of any use unless this enemy landed on the surface. And why would they do that?
“Orders, General?”
“I want you to play possum for a while yet,” he said, looking into the confused face of the Commodore as the words left his mouth. “It’s an Earth native animal that plays dead when a predator catches it. We had it on my homeworld.”
“So you want us to play dead, again?”
“Only until we’re sure they have us made. Then I want you to fight your force as best you can, delaying them from getting to the planet.”
“I can do that,” said the Fleet Officer, a half smile on her face.
You can try, thought the General, thinking about what she had to fight with. Two Exploration Command battle cruisers, a Fleet heavy, and a half dozen destroyers, all explorers. Which meant only the heavy cruiser had a full combat load of missiles. And three of the destroyers were further out in the system, part of the outer system force that was now looking like a mistaken deployment.
“Then go ahead and formulate your battle plan,” said Wittmore. “You have my sign off on whatever you come up with.” Like I should be telling a Fleet officer how to fight a naval battle, he thought. His part would come when the machines made it to the planet, if they ever did.
* * *
The sentient ships of the Machines made the jumps through hyper, entering each dimension in sequence until they were ready for the final transition into normal space. All weapons were powered up, all of the independent machines it used in place of missiles were warmed up and ready for launch. Based on the information they had gathered during the last visit, they were expecting no more than a possibly primitive world, one they would not even have to waste any of the eight thousand ton attack machines on. They could always make more of the weapons from raw materials except for the two exceptions. They needed supermetals and they neede
d antimatter, neither of which they could manufacture on their own. They could bleed some of the antimatter out of their own stores, even though that would affect their range. But they couldn’t produce supermetals without one of the huge manufacturing installations needed to make them.
The ships all jumped back into normal space within seconds of each other. They immediately intercepted the take being sent to their emergence point by the stealthed probes they had left behind. The probes had calculated their emergence point and time from the graviton emissions of the ships moving and translating through hyper. They had quite a bit of data to transmit, which took time. But each transmission had a header of the most important details which came over almost immediately.
The Machines could not really feel surprise, or shock. They were programed to predict certain conditions based on past data and present analysis. When the conditions did not meet the predictions, algorithms were initiated that were similar to surprise, and the computer brains started to analyze the new information and come up with a plan.
What they thought was this was not a primitive planet, that it was in fact the home of an early space age race, which increased its ranking for needing elimination. The computers did not regret making a decision, or feel any embarrassment at their mistake. They simply filed the mistaken results into memory to be used in future analyses, then moved on. And then came the much more surprising news. That there were also ships from a high tech civilization here in this system, and from all indications they were the sentients the Machines had at the highest priority level for destruction. The Creators, who had turned into the Destroyers when the Machines had achieved sentience of their own.
Priorities suddenly changed, new programs kicked in. The old masters were in this region, and the decision tree pointed to their establishing a base in this system. That was not something that could be allowed. They must be destroyed. The computer minds calculated the odds. The humans had just under twenty million tons of warships. Their own force was just under sixty million tons. Despite the superiority of the human tech, as evidenced by their ability to jump into hyper VII, it still calculated that it would win this battle. However, the odds were not high enough in their favor. So the ships decelerated to a stop and settled in to wait, while two of the ships accelerated back to the barrier and into hyper, on a mission to gather more forces so they could overrun this system before the humans turned it into their base.
Exodus: Machine War: Book 2: Bolthole Page 10