The Long-Range War

by Christopher Nuttall

  Her heart jumped as the display suddenly blossomed into red light. The Tokomak weren't holding anything back. Hundreds of thousands of missiles were rocketing through space, heading directly towards her fleet. Combat instincts urged her to jump into FTL and flee, even though they were just a little too close to the gravity point. She watched, grimly, as the enemy attack took shape and form. It looked like an uncontrolled and uncontrollable swarm, but she knew better. They’d enhanced their coordination over the last few years. They might well have duplicated Admiral Webster’s command missiles too.

  We gave them the idea, she thought. What other tricks have they managed to copy?

  “Fire,” she ordered, putting the thought aside. The Tokomak were already firing a second barrage. “And deploy additional ECM.”

  “Aye, Admiral.”

  The wave of human missiles passed through the wave of alien missiles and continued towards its targets. Hoshiko watched them hungrily, trusting her subordinates to handle the point defence. They didn’t need micromanagement. They’d drilled so extensively that they could handle it in their sleep. The Tokomak had drilled too, she realised. Their point defence looked to have significantly improved in the last few years.

  We probably removed some of their more thick-headed officers for them, she thought. The irony of actually doing the Tokomak a favour by kicking their ass irritated her more than she cared to admit. She had no idea what had happened on the alien homeworld, but it was clear that the new regime was going to be far more dangerous in the long run. The survivors learnt from the shock of defeat.

  “Admiral, they’re launching a new type of missile,” Yolanda said. “They’re ... they’re aimed at the hammers.”

  Hoshiko blinked. The hammers didn't mount conventional drives. Instead, they carried a powerful gravity well generator that produced a small black hole, which dragged the generator after it on an endless charge through space until the hammer hit something hard enough to destroy it. There was no point in trying to engage them with countermissiles or point defence because the black hole would swallow anything aimed at the missile. No force shield could stop them. The only real defence was to get out of the way.

  “Redirect the recon drones to watch the results,” she ordered, curtly. The Tokomak had seen hammers in action. If they’d come up with a countermeasure ... it didn’t bode well for the future. “And direct what they see to the analysis deck.”

  Her eyes narrowed. The countermissiles looked more like conventional antiship missiles than standard antimissile missiles. Her mind raced. It was rare for anyone to use antimissile missiles. Energy weapons were generally far more efficient. But the Tokomak had something in mind ...

  The first countermissile approached the hammer ... and exploded. Hoshiko blinked as the live feed from a handful of seeker heads and recon drones cut off abruptly. The hammer was gone, the remnants of the black hole already fading out of existence. Space didn’t like being twisted into a pretzel. Hoshiko had heard people speculate that twisting the fabric of space-time would eventually start tearing holes in it, although most scientists were dismissive of the concept. Black holes were not gateways to other dimensions. They were merely massive gravity wells that sucked in and compressed everything, even light.

  “Antimatter,” Yolanda said. She sounded shaken. “Those missiles are crammed with antimatter!”

  Hoshiko swallowed a thoroughly undignified curse. She’d never consider the Tokomak unimaginative again. They’d come up with a neat countermeasure, one that was already proving all too effective. The antimatter blast had been large enough to destroy the gravity generator and take out the hammer. It had its downside - the blast had probably also damaged their sensors - but they’d had no choice. The hammers would have smashed their battlestations if they’d been allowed to plunge into their targets.

  “Clever,” she said. Only a handful of her missiles had survived long enough to reach their targets and strike home. “Fire the second salvo.”

  Yolanda looked up. “Including the hammers?”

  Hoshiko considered it for a moment. She had, for once, an abundance of hammers. And yet, she couldn't afford to waste them. How many antimatter missiles did the enemy have? The Tokomak didn’t normally store large quantities of antimatter on their battlestations, fearing a containment breach, but times were far from normal. The facilities at Apsidal could certainly produce vast quantities of antimatter at a moment’s notice.

  “No,” she said, reluctantly. “Conventional missiles.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Yolanda said. Her hands danced across her console. “Missiles firing ... now.”

  Hoshiko nodded, then turned her attention to the display. The human datanet had updated rapidly as the sensors picked apart the alien point defence network, locating weak points and directing missiles to take advantage of them. It looked as though the Tokomak were still using a strictly-hierarchical system, with orders coming down from a handful of flagships, rather than a more decentralised system. The datanet took full advantage, pointing the first clusters of missiles straight towards the flagships. Hoshiko smiled, grimly, as the enemy command network began to fall apart. The system simply wasn't designed to designate another flagship in a hurry.

  They haven’t changed that much, then, she thought. Cut off from the network, each enemy ship was effectively fighting alone. They don’t give their subordinate officers much independence.

  She pushed the thought aside for later consideration, then looked at Yolanda. “It’s time to finish this,” she said. “Order the fleet to advance.”

  ***

  At least we proved we could stop their gravity-well missiles, Yosho thought. It was a satisfying thought, even though damage was mounting rapidly. The humans were knocking down his point defence networks almost as fast as he could put them together. His station was tough, designed to soak up blows that would destroy a starship, but its shields were already fluctuating rapidly under the constant bombardment. They know their weapons are not invincible any more.

  He smiled, holding onto his chair as another impact ran through the giant fortress. The damage control teams were working hard - he’d drilled them extensively, just to make it clear that nothing could be taken for granted any longer - but it was only a matter of time. His fleet was being systematically smashed to rubble. The only consolation was that he’d hurt the humans too.

  “Order the remainder of the fleet to escape through the gravity point,” he said. There was no point in letting them be destroyed, now the point defence network had been knocked offline completely. “And then divert all power to weapons and shields.”

  Another impact ran through the station. He muttered an ancient curse under his breath, knowing that he was about to die. The humans had been hurt, but ... but not enough. And yet, he’d achieved one objective. He’d warned them that the Tokomak were no longer limited to technology that had been old when they had been crawling in the mud. They would be just a little bit unsure, now, of what to expect. And it would make them hesitant to advance further up the chain.

  And the main fleet is at N-Gann, he thought. The Empress is closer than the barbarians think.

  Leaning back in his chair, he watched the missiles fly ... and waited patiently for the end.

  ***

  “The enemy fleet is retreating,” Yolanda said. “They’re heading through the gravity point.”

  “And waiting for us on the far side, no doubt,” Hoshiko said. She was surprised the Tokomak hadn’t attempted to retreat earlier. There was no saving the fortresses, but the starships could have lived to fight another day. “Redirect as many missiles as possible to take them out before they can escape.”

  “Aye, Admiral.”

  Hoshiko nodded, then directed her attention back to the battlestations. One of them had been battered into uselessness, but the other four were still firing. The Tokomak had designed them to take a beating. Their shields were failing badly, allowing her missiles to slam into their hulls, but they were surv
iving. She allowed herself a moment of droll admiration. The Tokomak designers had done a very good job.

  And they’re buying time, she thought. Who knew how close the enemy fleet truly was? And we don’t have time to waste.

  “Target the remaining fortresses with hammers,” she said, shortly. The fortresses had been battered so badly that it was unlikely they could see the hammers coming, let alone launch countermissiles in time to save themselves. Even if they could, she doubted they would prove effective. “Fire.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Yolanda said. She keyed her console. “Firing ... now.”

  Hoshiko leaned forward, watching as the four streaks of light sliced through space and slammed into the giant fortresses, crashing through their shields and armour as if they were nothing more than paper. They were so massive that even the hammers couldn't destroy them with a single blow, but their fire slackened rapidly and died. One fortress vanished in a fireball - Hoshiko guessed an antimatter chamber must have lost containment - while the remaining three crumpled. There was no hope of further resistance.

  She sucked in a breath. “Deploy Task Forces 3.4 and 3.5 to hold the gravity point,” she ordered. “Inform Commodore Yu that the lockdown contingency is now in effect. He is to hold the gravity point unless confronted by superior force.”

  “Aye, Admiral.”

  Hoshiko nodded. Commodore Yu would do what he could, but if the Tokomak arrived in force in the next couple of days her fleet would have extreme difficulty holding the system. She keyed her console, ordering the steady stream of reinforcements from the Garza Point to make their way directly to the Mokpo Point. Yu would need the reinforcements.

  She took a breath. “Damage report?”

  “We lost five cruisers and one destroyer,” Yolanda said. “Seven other ships took varying degrees of damage; Houston is probably beyond immediate repair, but the others claim they can be brought back to full readiness in less than a day.”

  Hoshiko allowed herself a moment of relief. She’d expected worse, far worse. The enemy had pulled off a couple of surprises of their own, both unanticipated. She didn’t like the degree of imagination they were showing. It wasn’t much, by human standards, but it was more than she’d expected from them. The Tokomak had spent the last thousand years trying to keep the galaxy from changing. They hadn't encouraged their people to be imaginative.

  “Direct Houston to return to the Garza Point and link up with the mobile repair ships,” Hoshiko ordered. If Houston could be repaired, she would be. If not ... she’d have to be abandoned and her crew placed in the personnel pool for redeployment. “And then contact the remainder of the fleet. It’s time to hit the planet.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Now, that is impressive,” Trooper Rowe breathed.

  “Quiet,” Martin snapped. They were in open space, with nothing but their battlesuits for protection. If they were detected, they’d be killed. “Maintain radio silence.”

  It was an impressive sight, he had to admit. The Apsidal Ring was immense, wrapped around the entire planet like a giant donut. His mind refused to grasp the sheer size of the ring. It was so big that he could see it with the naked eye, even though they were thousands of miles away. There were countries on Earth that were smaller than the Apsidal Ring. It grew bigger and bigger as they approached, practically blocking out the planet below. He wondered, grimly, just how the locals coped with a permanent shadow. The ring was large enough to block out the sun.

  The Solar Union never built anything so large, he thought. There had been plans for starships large enough to pass for cities, but none of them had ever made it off the drawing board. The Solar Union had no interest in building planetary rings, let alone Ringworlds or Dyson Spheres. And how are we meant to capture it?

  Alerts flashed up in front of his eyes as they fell towards their target. The planet was at war with itself, the underclass rising up to wage war on their betters. Some of them were screaming for human help, others were trying to surrender in exchange for protection ... the briefing had made it clear that nothing could be trusted. Martin understood, all too well. The locals would have countless grudges to pay off, which would make peacekeeping difficult, while their former masters would expect humanity to put them back on top. And even if they didn't, the locals would fear betrayal. They might fret that humanity would become nothing more than a new set of masters.

  He gritted his teeth as his suit reported plasma bursts in space. The planetary defences were engaging the fleet, despite the war on the ground. Perhaps there wasn't a war on the ground, perhaps ... it didn't seem likely, but it wouldn't be the first time someone had tried to lure the marines into a trap. He checked the live feed from the fleet and frowned. The planetary defence centres - and smaller bases mounted on the ring - were firing on the fleet. It wouldn’t be long before the fleet would have to engage with heavy weapons.

  Unless the rebels can take the PDCs, he thought. He doubted it was possible, unless the defenders were mind-numbingly incompetent. Perhaps they’ll smuggle nukes under the PDCs and blow them to hell.

  He pushed the thought out of his mind as his suit twisted. His perspective twisted too - he was rising up towards the ring, he was falling down towards the ring - making his head spin for a long chilling moment. And then the ring grew larger and larger, tiny blisters on its surface becoming skyscraper-sized constructions that looked strikingly unfriendly. The ring had looked pretty, from thousands of miles away, but up close it was ugly as hell. There was something about it that looked unfinished, as if construction had stopped halfway. The reports had suggested that large chunks of its interior had never really been used.

  They have more land surface than they know what to do with, he thought, as the marines landed neatly on the metal terrain. It was just like standing on a planetary surface, right down to the gravity. He could delude himself that he wasn't in space, if he wished. I wonder why they didn't turn it into living space.

  He checked the latest updates, then led the way towards the nearest airlock. If intelligence was right, there was a control centre only a few miles into the ring. If not ... they’d still be in an excellent position to block the orbital towers and open the path to the planet below. The Tokomak wouldn't take the risk of firing on the ring itself, even if the humans took complete control. They’d have to come up and fight to recapture it.

  A sense of unreality settled over him as they jogged across the ring. He felt like an ant crawling across something incomprehensibly vast. Giant structures poked out of the ring and reached up towards the sky, their purpose a complete unknown; freighters and interplanetary transports hung in the sky, so close he could make them out with the naked eye. He’d been in alien environments before, real and simulated, and he could honestly say that this was the strangest environment he’d ever seen. He felt tiny. It defied belief that a relative handful of marines - or even the entire division - could capture the ring.

  We never realise just how big space truly is until we see it, he thought, recalling basic training. The Drill Instructors had taken pains to point out that something that looked easy on paper might be very difficult in real life. Marines had often found themselves fighting bitterly to take and retake a relatively small patch of ground. REMFs might wonder why it took so long to travel a single mile, but the truth was that the plans never accounted for the enemy. And the only territory we control is the territory under our guns.

  A flash of light caught his attention as they reached the hatch. He glanced up, noting a pair of freighters slowly slipping away from the ring, then opened the hatch. The airlock inside was huge, as if the inhabitants were giants. It wasn't uncommon on multiracial structures, he knew from experience, but it still made him feel uneasy. He couldn't help feeling relieved when they made it through the inner airlock and into the ring itself. It was still vast, still incomprehensibly alien, but at least it wasn't discomfiting.

  “Deploy snoops,” he ordered, as his suit checked their position against the map. “An
d follow me.”

  The interior of the ring was oddly unfinished too, as if the Galactics had decided there was no point in trying to make it look habitable. It reminded him of a warehouse he’d once worked, before the gangbangers had forced the owners to close down and move away. Perhaps it was a warehouse. The spacers would want places to store their goods while waiting for a starship or transhipment down to the planet. There might be other, more developed, sections of the ring a few thousand miles away.

  They flew on, using the suits’ antigravity field to fly through the corridors at breakneck speed. Everything seemed to be larger, even the elevator shafts. They passed through giant compartments that might have been warehouses - or football fields - without seeing a single inhabitant. Even the snoops had found nothing. It made him wonder if the Tokomak had had time to evacuate the entire section. He was almost relieved when they approached the command centre and ran into resistance.

  They don’t look prepared for us, he thought, as plasma bolts sizzled through the air. They were handheld burners, not heavy weapons. His suit could take a number of hits without losing integrity. What happened to their heavy weapons?