But it does have thousands of aliens who want to kill us, he thought. So it isn't really that different after all.
Yolanda’s wristcom bleeped. “I have to get back to the CIC,” she said, glancing at it. “I should be free tonight, if you want to sneak through the tubes to my cabin.”
“As long as the admiral doesn’t want you,” Martin said. He considered it, briefly. The marines were meant to settle in, before they started training the following morning. It wasn't as if he had to babysit, but still ... sneaking off to spend the night with his girlfriend would set a bad example. “I’ll let you know. I have to put everyone to bed first.”
“I understand,” Yolanda said. She leaned forward and kissed him again. “See you soon.”
She turned and walked away. Martin watched her go, feeling a surge of pure affection. They were so different, in so many ways, and yet they clicked. She wasn’t the sort of girl he would have been encouraged to like, let alone love, on Earth ... no, he wouldn't have been encouraged to love anyone on Earth. Love was a weakness ...
Back to work, he told himself, firmly. You can meet up with her later.
***
“Admiral?”
Hoshiko looked up from the latest report. “Yes, Yolanda?”
“The final fleet units have arrived,” Yolanda told her. She stood at the hatch, as if she were reluctant to enter the office. “The datanet has been updated. All ships are signalling that they are ready to depart.”
“Very good,” Hoshiko said. She deactivated the terminal, banishing the report and its contents to the back of her mind. There were too many bureaucrats who’d fallen into the habit of assuming that their work was so important that it had to be sent straight to the fleet commander. It was probably time for a cull. “Are there any other updates?”
“The reporters have been embarked on Daredevil,” Yolanda said. “Half of them have filed requests to be transferred to Defiant.”
“Stall them,” Hoshiko ordered. The Solar Union’s newshounds weren’t as bad as the media groupies from the bad old days on Earth - she’d heard the old sweats calling the reporters everything from liars to traitors - but they were still annoying. “They can find what they need from the unclassified sections of the datanet.”
She rolled her eyes at the thought. There was very little in her life that was interesting, although that hadn’t stopped the newshounds from digging into her past and interviewing her childhood friends for signs of future greatness. Who’d have thought that building a treehouse on the family asteroid was a sign of leadership ability? Her siblings had taken a gleeful delight in forwarding copies of that article to her.
“Aye, Admiral,” Yolanda said. She cleared her throat nervously, a sure sign she was about to disagree with the boss. “They do have clearance to attend intership conferences.”
“Which they can do holographically,” Hoshiko said, shortly. The Admiralty might have pressed her to remember that the newshounds had to be kept onside, but that didn't mean she had to give them everything they wanted. Besides, it wasn't as if they’d get very far by pressing an antiwar narrative. They’d be more likely to lose followers so rapidly that their reliability ratings dropped to nothing. “And if they request any private interviews, tell them I’ll be busy for the next few months.”
“Aye, Admiral,” Yolanda said. She glanced at the datapad in her hand. “The logistics and support units are in place, ready to follow the fleet. They assure me that they have everything they need.”
“It won’t be enough,” Hoshiko predicted, grimly. Consumption rates were always higher than predicted. Thankfully, between the generally-sensible officers in command and the mobile factory ships, it shouldn’t be a problem. “Were there any troubles getting the final tranche of industrial workers assigned to the fleet?”
“No, Admiral,” Yolanda said. “There may be some long-term problems back home, but ... they’re here.”
“I imagine enemy missile strikes will cause some long-term problems too,” Hoshiko said, dryly. The Solar Union simply didn't have enough industrial workers. She’d heard that more and more were being trained up, but it would be a while before the first newcomers entered service. “Are there any other issues that should be brought to my attention?”
“No, Admiral,” Yolanda said. “The fleet is ready to depart.”
Hoshiko stood and walked around the desk. Yolanda stepped to one side to allow Hoshiko to precede her out of the office and into the CIC. The display was glowing with thousands of icons, ranging from powerful warships to escorts and support vessels. She couldn't help feeling awed, even though she’d seen it time and time again. It was the largest fleet humanity had ever assembled, perhaps the most powerful fleet in the history of the entire galaxy, and it was hers. No naval officer in human history, save perhaps Admiral Jellicoe, had ever had so much weight on their shoulders. She was truly the only officer who could lose the war in a single day.
And Jellicoe wasn't staring down the barrels of racial extinction, Hoshiko thought. The Druavroks had wanted to kill all humans, but the Tokomak were worse. She had no doubt that the human race was fighting for its very survival. The worst that could have happened to Jellicoe was watching his beloved country being occupied by the Kaiser. I might have to watch as the Solar Union is wiped from existence.
She shook her head. No, she’d be dead by then. The Tokomak would hardly let her live long enough to see her solar system being destroyed. She wondered, morbidly, if they knew the fleet was on its way. All traffic in and out of the Sol System had been halted once the vote had taken place, but she was all too aware that someone might have sneaked out of the system to alert the enemy. The Tokomak had allies, lots of them. She wouldn't be too surprised to hear that some of the Galactic Alliance races were preparing fallback plans.
Her eyes found the LinkShip, holding station next to Defiant. She wished she’d had enough time to visit the ship, both to satisfy her curiosity and to keep an eye on the pilot. Hameeda - Captain Hameeda, Hoshiko supposed - had very strong stability and reliability ratings, but no one had permanently linked themselves to a datanet before. There was simply no way to tell what the long-term effects might be. In hindsight, perhaps it would have been wiser to assign someone to the LinkShip, even over Hameeda’s protests. But Hameeda had seemed to think she’d be better on her own.
That will have to change, Hoshiko thought. A human connection might be good for her.
She cursed the scientists under her breath as she took her chair. They’d insisted that Hameeda had to make her own choices, at least until the fleet went into battle. But Hoshiko couldn't help thinking that it was a mistake. There had been people who’d sunk into VR fantasies to the point where they thought the fantasy was real. Hoshiko could understand the urge to pretend that one was more important than one was, or lived a more exciting life, but she distrusted it. A person born in the Solar Union could go far, if he or she was prepared to make the sacrifice. Their lives were what they made of them.
And Hameeda could sink so far into the datanet that she might never come out, she told herself. Who knows what will happen then?
“Admiral,” Yolanda said. “System Command has sent us a message, wishing us good luck.”
“In other words, they expect us to get moving,” Hoshiko said, wryly. It was the sort of departure that should be feted with flags flying and bands playing, but they were on the very edge of the system, as far as they could go without leaving the system limits completely. “Contact the fleet. Inform them that we will depart in” - she made a show of looking at the chronometer - “ten minutes.”
“Aye, Admiral.”
Hoshiko felt the ship’s drives change, just slightly, as the FTL nodes came online. Defiant was the latest generation of cruiser technology, designed to be able to slip in and out of FTL with over two-thirds of her FTL nodes non-functional. It made her feel slightly different from Jackie Fisher, Hoshiko’s old command, but it gave her a tactical flexibility that more than made
up for the additional expense. And when - not if - the Tokomak designed gravity traps of their own, Defiant would have a good chance of remaining in FTL long enough to get out of the trap and make her escape.
Although it will cost us nearly every node we have, Hoshiko said. Crashing into a gravity shadow was every spacer’s nightmare. The scientists hadn’t been clear on what would happen if Defiant hit a natural gravity well, like a planet, but Hoshiko doubted it was anything good. The odds of survival would be very low. It might be better to let them yank us out of FTL and punch our way out.
“The fleet’s responded, Admiral,” Yolanda said. “They’re ready to go.”
“Copy our final records to System Command,” Hoshiko ordered, “and empty the message buffers.”
“Aye, Admiral,” Yolanda said. Her hands danced across her console. “Done.”
Hoshiko concealed a smile. The censors were going to have a tedious time, digging through the datapackets to make sure that someone on the ship hadn't told his family anything that the enemy could use against them. Hoshiko doubted the Tokomak could or would spy on private communications, but it was well to be careful. Someone in the media might pick up on something important and relay it to his followers, unaware that the Tokomak were listening too. There were enough people who believed that information wanted to be free - and rebelled against any form of government censorship - for her to expect common sense to prevail.
And it will be a long time before anyone on the fleet sees their family again, she thought, morbidly. Yolanda was really quite lucky to have her boyfriend on the ship. We won’t be back for a year or so.
She took one final look at the in-system display, her eyes seeking out the cluster of asteroids that comprised the core of the Solar Union, then took a long breath. “Order the fleet to enter FTL,” she said. “Now.”
“Aye, Admiral,” Yolanda said. “FTL in five ...”
Hoshiko braced herself as the display went blank, half-expecting to feel her stomach twisting out of shape. But there was almost nothing, beyond a slight queasy sensation that vanished almost as soon as she noticed it. Her lips curved into a smile. The Tokomak had never bothered to make the transition into FTL easier on the ship’s passengers. She rather suspected they didn't feel it themselves. But humanity had found a way ...
“The fleet has entered FTL,” Yolanda informed her. “The gravity-pulse network has been established. Datalinks are being established now.”
“Very good,” Hoshiko said. She stood. “Once the network is up and running, prime the ships for an exercise. We have two months to go and I want to be ready.”
“Aye, Admiral.”
Chapter Six
If Martin had been forced to be honest, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, there were some advantages to being stationed on Defiant. Quite apart from being able to see Yolanda, whenever they could find a mutually-convenient time to meet, it allowed them to practice everything from boarding and counter-boarding actions to infiltration, subversion and sabotage. His squad racked up thousands of kills in the simulators, constantly pushing the limits as far as they would go, while testing their skills against a series of elaborate traps. The ship’s engineers seemed delighted to have the chance to design death traps for the marines, even if they did seem more like something from a TV show than anything they might expect to encounter in real life.
The Tokomak simply want us dead, he thought. They don’t want us to suffer.
He paused, considering. No, he added, grimly. They don’t care if we suffer.
It wasn’t a pleasant thought. He’d met too many humans who were sadists, who got off on hurting people. The gangbangers who ruled the streets where he was born had never been content with merely killing their enemies, not when they could make them suffer first; later, as his career expanded, he’d met people who killed women for being raped or brutally beat little girls into a pulp for daring to seek an education. It was shameful, somehow, to think that aliens might be more human than some humans. The human capacity for torturing its own kind was unmatched throughout the galaxy.
The Tokomak have a superiority complex large enough to blot out the galaxy, he thought, and they’ll do whatever it takes to stay on top, but they’re not monsters.
He pushed the thought aside, forcing himself to start working through yet another after-action report. One disadvantage of being on Defiant was that he had to write the wretched things himself. Technically, he then had to read them to himself - as a couple of jokers in the squad had gleefully pointed out - but he’d decided that there was no point in following regulations too closely. They’d been written on the assumption that the writer and the reader would be two different people.
We’ve tested ourselves inside and outside the starship, he told himself, and worked our way through all kinds of simulated environments. What else do we have to do?
He sighed as he finished the report. The squad was at risk of losing its edge, if it didn’t get to see real action soon. Space was dangerous - and going outside in FTL could be literally maddening - but people weren't really shooting at them. Even highly-experienced men could start treating simulations with contempt, when they knew there was no real danger beyond being chewed out by the CO. There wasn’t even the risk of being mocked by the rest of the ground forces for losing.
“We might have a moment to go to one of the MEUs,” he muttered, crossly. “A chance to drill with some of the others would let us burn off a lot of steam.”
Shaking his head, he turned to the next set of briefing notes. Apsidal had been settled long enough to have a sizable tourist industry, putting out everything from travel brochures and guides to detailed maps that were strikingly informative. Clearly, no one on Apsidal had ever thought twice about the wisdom of putting so much information on the planetary datanet. A handful of notes from Solar Intelligence confirmed that much of the data had been verified, right down to the locations of the planet’s military bases. It looked as if no one on Apsidal had considered the possibility of being attacked either.
He smiled, sardonically. The Tokomak Empire was older, far older, than all of humanity’s recorded history. And, in all of that time, it had never encountered a serious challenge. From the discovery of FTL to First Contact, the Tokomak and their allies - their subordinates - had been effectively unchallengeable. No wonder they’d let everything from research and development to basic defences slide. There was no point in pushing the limits when one was quite happy where one was. They wouldn't want to accidentally develop something that might disrupt their entire economic base.
A shame we don’t know where we’ll be landing, he thought, as he surveyed the detailed maps and their accompanying notes. General Edward Romford and his staff had been tight-lipped about the landing zones, suggesting they hadn’t made any concrete plans. There was no way to be entirely sure what they’d encounter when they landed on Apsidal. It could be anywhere.
He sucked in his breath. There were, if the notes were to be believed, over fifty billion intelligent life forms on Apsidal. Solar Intelligence had added a suggestion that the official figures, pushed by the planetary government, were actually too low. Martin could believe it. The Galactics liked to think their societies ran like clockwork, but there were entire sections that existed outside official notice. Every major Galactic world had an underclass made up of immigrants from junior and servile races that existed off the books. Apsidal was no different, according to the notes. There was a good chance that the underclass would welcome the invasion. They might see it as a chance to improve their lot.
Poor bastards, Martin thought. His ancestors had had a hard time, first at the hands of slaveowners and then at the hands of well-meaning do-gooders, but both they and their oppressors had been human. It was far worse for the junior races. They would never be allowed to rise to power, not when it was clear they weren't senior. Perhaps we can give them a chance to be better.
He sighed, inwardly. It was going to be utter h
ell. Apsidal was covered in cities - the planet itself was practically one whole city - and surrounded by a ring. Martin felt his stomach twist as he considered the possibilities. It was the sort of environment that limited their advantages, while minimising enemy disadvantages. And the places they’d have to take were places the enemy would know to defend.
And they’ll have plenty of warning, Martin thought. Operations on Earth had spoilt him. The opposition, as brutal as it had been, had been primitive. The marines had got the drop on them, time and time again. But the Galactics had advanced technology and knew how to use it. They’ll see us coming from light-years away.
His wristcom bleeped. “Hi,” Yolanda said. “Are you going to be free in an hour?”
“Well, technically I’m supposed to be napping,” Martin said, although he doubted that his squad were in their bunks. He’d discovered, to his private amusement, that most of the squad had found partners amongst the spacers. He wouldn’t make an issue of it, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work. “But I suppose I could be, if you asked nicely.”
The Long-Range War Page 6