A stream of possible scenarios flowed through her mind. One subroutine insisted that there was a good chance of bleeding the Tokomak, if they made a stand in Mokpo or even GS-3532. Another pointed out that neither system was as central as Apsidal and trying to defend them might force Admiral Stuart to spread her fleet out too much. The enemy would certainly be trying to bring their main body to bear against the human ships. Giving them a free shot at a small deployment seemed a bad idea.
She dismissed the subroutines - deciding what to do next was not her responsibility - and waited as the planet slowly came into range. Mokpo had a ring of its own, although it was nowhere near as big as the Apsidal Ring. Hameeda studied it for a long moment, noting that despite its smaller size it still had plenty of accommodation for warehouses and transients, then turned her attention to the planet itself. Mokpo looked nicer than Apsidal, even though it was nowhere near as wealthy. For one thing, the land surface actually looked green.
Not that it matters, she told herself, as her sensors made a careful note of where the planetary defences were located. I won’t ever be able to take shore leave again.
The thought stabbed into her mind, shaking her concentration. She’d known that she was confining herself to the LinkShip for the rest of her life, she’d known she going to be trapped, she’d known ... but she hadn’t really believed it. She hadn't really grasped what her commitment entailed, not at an emotional level. And now ... she could be surrounded by holograms of everything from Norwegian mountains to the Arizonian Grand Canyon, but she’d never see them with her own eyes. She could send drones, or surveillance devices, or anything ... anything, save for going down herself and taking a look. And ...
Hameeda drew a shaky breath, ordering the ship to move away from the planet as fast as possible. She was going to be alone, in a very real sense, until the day she died. She was surrounded by entertainment - there were enough eBooks and movies and VR simulations in the library to keep a small army entertained for thousands of years - but she was going to be alone. No lover would stay on the ship for the rest of her life. No ...
She disconnected from the datanet, trusting in the automated systems to keep them undetected. Even then, even without the helmet, there was still a steady trickle of data at the back of her mind. She didn't even have to ask to be bombarded with information, everything from the local situation - a flight of enemy gunboats two million miles away - to power curves and other engineering details that were better left in automated hands. The LinkShip would be at the back of her mind for the rest of her life.
Damn it, she thought, as she walked through the ship on shaky legs. She loved it. The LinkShip was pretty much the single most advanced piece of technology in the entire known universe. And yet, it was also a prison. Her prison. What now?
The datanet offered a series of suggestions, everything from getting a few hours of sleep to inviting someone she knew over for a few hours of guilt-free fun. She glared at the bulkheads, dismissing the list with a wave of her hand. The datanet was trying to help, she knew, but it couldn't help with the real problem. She was part of the ship, to all intents and purposes, and the link couldn't be cut. It couldn't even be placed in stasis ...
Alerts flashed through her mind. She’d been detected! How? She swung around and ran towards the chair, cursing as more information came through the neural link. A flight of enemy gunboats had appeared from nowhere ... had they been under stealth themselves? Gunboats were even smaller than the LinkShip, barely larger than cargo shuttles. They couldn’t mount cloaking devices, not unless the Tokomak had had a major breakthrough. Given everything else that had happened in the last few days, she wouldn't necessarily dismiss the idea out of hand.
There must have been a stealthed platform nearby, she thought, as she threw herself into the chair and jammed the helmet onto her head. The datalink sharpened rapidly, allowing her to see the gunboats as they swept into attack formation. And the platform directed them onto me.
She felt her teeth draw back into a snarl as she dropped the cloaking device and brought her weapons online. There was no point in trying to hide now - and besides, she wanted to take her ship into battle. She’d run thousands of simulations, pitting the LinkShip against foes both real and fictional - she’d particularly enjoyed doing the Trench Run and blowing the Death Star out of space time and time again - but this was real. She spun around, ignoring harshly worded commands to stand down and surrender at once. This was very real.
The gunboats opened fire with plasma guns and phasers. They were no threat to the LinkShip’s shields - her forcefields were tougher than anything smaller than a heavy cruiser - but she evaded them anyway. The datalink hummed in her mind, pushing her into more and more complex evasive patterns that left the enemy unable to score a single hit. They bunched up, seemingly very aware that they’d bitten off more than they could chew. Hameeda opened fire a second later. All nine phaser bursts struck their targets and vaporised them.
Warning, the datanet stated. Enemy cruiser inbound.
Hameeda nodded. The light cruiser was a more significant threat than the gunboats, if she let the ship get into range. She could turn and flee, leaving the cruiser eating her dust; she could even play chicken, charging at the enemy ship and veering away at the last possible moment before collision. That would give the enemy a fright. Or she could press her advantage and take the cruiser out. It was a potential threat to the human fleet, when - if - it entered the system.
But that would give them too much information about me, she thought, soberly. She didn't want to think about it. She wanted to go on the offensive. The next set of starships I encounter will be prepared for me.
She opened her awareness, scanning the entire system. Four starships were rocketing towards her in FTL, but the remainder of the system was quiet. Someone must have sent an alert back to the planet, one that hadn’t reached the gravity point yet. Those two ships hadn't moved, as far as she could tell. They certainly hadn't dropped into FTL. Her lips curved into something that could charitably be called a smile. In theory, there was no way she could take five cruisers in a straight-up engagement; in practice, she had advantages they’d never heard of. And yet ...
The simulations tempted her. Their missiles weren't going to be able to score a hit. Her ECM would keep their energy weapons from hitting her too. She could get in close and land a series of blows, then retreat before they managed to break through the jamming and target her. And she could keep doing it until they broke off or died. As long as she was careful, she’d have nothing to fear.
No, she told herself, firmly. Simulations were far from perfect. A single hit would be enough to take her out of the game permanently. She couldn’t afford the risk. It’s time to go.
The LinkShip rotated, then rocketed away from the cruiser. Hameeda activated the cloaking device as soon as she was outside active sensor range, allowing the cruiser to get just a hint of her course before she vanished completely. They’d expect her to change course, she knew, but it hardly mattered. She slipped into FTL and headed straight to the gravity point, returning to normal space as she approached. The guardships hadn't heard a peep from the planet. She moved past their defences, sneaked past the gunboats and slipped into the gravity point. A moment later, she was back in Apsidal.
Success, she thought, as she started transmitting her IFF code. There was a nasty moment when she was sure she was about to be blasted by her own side, then the automated defences stood down without firing a single shot. I made it.
She chuckled, despite herself, as she glided away from the gravity point, her sensors seeking out Defiant. Admiral Stuart’s flagship was amongst the rest of the fleet, preparing to either repel a gravity point assault or launch one of her own. Hameeda smiled, again. The fleet could take Mokpo any time it liked, clearing out the Tokomak before they could muster any real resistance. But keeping it was quite another thing.
“Transmit the full report to the flagship,” she ordered, as she disconnected
the helmet once again. Oddly, despite her earlier fears, she felt happy. She’d enjoyed destroying the gunboats and taunting the other ships, even though she knew she was going to be chewed out for it. The Tokomak hadn't seen everything she could do, but they’d seen enough. “And then run me a bath.”
She headed down to the ship’s bathroom, feeling tired and sweaty and yet - somehow - invigorated. She’d done something worthwhile, hadn't she? The information she’d gathered would help Admiral Stuart plan her offensive, if she decided to push into Mokpo; Hameeda had no doubt that it wouldn't be long before the LinkShip was sent to GS-3532 and even Winglet. It was unlikely she’d be allowed to cross the gulf between Winglet and N-Gann, but it hardly mattered. She’d have plenty of opportunity to hurt the enemy.
And do it in luxury too, she thought, as she undressed and climbed into the bath. She was mildly surprised the admiral hadn’t called, but she was a very busy woman. There are midshipwomen who’d kill for a proper bathroom in their ships.
Smiling, she leaned back into the water and closed her eyes.
Chapter Thirteen
“It looks like the Dark Lord Shadye’s fortress,” Trooper Rowe breathed, as the PDC came into view. “You know, from the movies. All it needs is a giant glowing eye on top of it.”
“We could take out the Dark Lord’s fortress with a single KEW,” Trooper Cuthbert pointed out, sardonically. “This place is a little tougher.”
Martin kept his face expressionless as he surveyed the PDC. It did look like a fortress from a movie, although he wasn’t sure if it was from a fantasy movie or one of those grimdark universes that had been all the rage for a few short years. It was a towering construction, bristling with plasma weapons so large they dwarfed an assault shuttle, glowing with eerie light as the forcefield protecting the PDC from a KEW strike interacted with the alien atmosphere. Lightning crackled around the upper reaches of the structure, as if an evil magician was indeed practicing his spells.
“It is impressive,” he said, finally. The PDC was still refusing to surrender, despite the remainder of the planetary government having given up the ghost. He’d heard rumours that the enemy fleet was only a few days away and that was why the PDC had refused to surrender. “But we have work to do.”
He looked around as he led the way towards the command post. The alien environment was weird, simply because it was in permanent semi-darkness. It was meant to be morning, but it felt more like twilight. The Apsidal Ring hung high overhead, a dark line blotting out the sun and throwing the world into shadow. It wasn't as dark as he’d thought, when he’d first seen the briefing notes, but it was weird. The alien constructions nearby - he thought they were homes and offices - only made it worse. There was something about them that was subtly wrong. The absence of any visible inhabitants was the icing on the cake.
But then, anyone with any sense will have vacated the area long ago, even though we ordered them to stay put, he thought, morbidly. They know this place is going to become a battleground soon enough.
Major Griffin had set up his headquarters in what Martin thought might have been an alien house, once upon a time. The furniture had been pushed to one side and a handful of portable chairs and tables had been brought into the room, while a small collection of terminals had been pressed against the wall. He hoped there were no prying alien sensors looking for hints of human presence anywhere nearby. The terminals were shielded, ensuring they couldn't be detected from a distance, but the radio microbursts were all too easy to detect. They might be shelled at any moment if the aliens realised where they were.
“Captain Douglas,” Major Griffin said. “Congratulations on your victory.”
“It was a small one,” Martin said, modestly. “They surrendered when they saw the mob coming.”
“But still a victory,” Major Griffin assured him. He tapped the map on the desk. “Right now, we have an uneasy stalemate with that thing” - he jerked a finger in the direction of the PDC - “and that isn’t going to change in a hurry. We can’t get to them and they can't break out.”
“So we put a nuke under the PDC and blow them to hell,” Martin said.
“So far, we haven’t been able to get under the complex,” Major Griffin said. “And, judging by the ones that did surrender, it might be hard to actually destroy it. The lower levels are quite heavily armoured too.”
He shrugged. “Hopefully, they’ll surrender once they see the main fleet being smashed,” he added. “However, for the moment, I have another role for you. I want you and your men to patrol the area and become accustomed to it.”
Martin nodded in understanding. They were an elite unit, but they’d never served on Apsidal before. It was better to learn the lay of the land now, before they had to fight to defend it. A sense of precisely how Apsidal worked would be very useful when the Tokomak arrived. He hoped the fleet would smash them, as planned, but he knew better than to assume the good guys would always win. God was on the side of the big battalions and the Tokomak had some very big battalions indeed.
“Very good, sir,” he said.
“You may be going back to the ring soon,” Major Griffin added. “This might be your only chance to explore Apsidal itself.”
“Yes, sir,” Martin said. Apsidal was no bigger than Earth, although the orbital towers and the ring gave it a staggering amount of living space. There was no way he could see the entire planet, even if he devoted the remainder of his life to the task. The space-born might think that planets were small, but the groundpounders knew better. “Do you have a local sitrep?”
“In the datanet, but it changes frequently,” Major Griffin said. “Take nothing for granted.”
“Yes, sir,” Martin said.
He went outside, conferred briefly with Sergeant Howe, then downloaded the sitrep from the datanet. It was strikingly familiar, reminding him of operations on Earth. The former authority had collapsed, the new authority had very little actual authority and entire districts were being taken over by gangs and small groups of rebels who were practically identical to criminals. So far, no one had actually shot at the human troops, but Martin was grimly aware that it was just a matter of time. Their presence was welcome now, yet it wouldn’t be long before the locals started to resent it. They hadn't freed themselves, after all.
We should have kept the battlesuits, he thought, as the squad formed up for the patrol. But some dickhead thought we’d look more friendly if we wore BDUs.
The temperature began to rise, despite the semi-darkness, as they made their way away from the base. His eyes adapted rapidly, thanks to his enhancements, but there were still pools of shadow that worried him. Anything could be lurking in there. The squad started off laughing and joking, but silence gradually fell as the alienness of their surroundings penetrated their good humour. Martin had to keep himself from resting his finger on the trigger, even though it was bad weapons discipline and against regulations to boot. There was something about the environment that nagged at his mind.
There were no lights in the alien buildings, no suggestion of habitation. And yet, the sitrep insisted that the area was inhabited. It had been an upscale housing estate, if the reports were to be trusted; a gated community, insofar as the aliens had such things. The lords and masters of the planet - rather, the subordinates of their subordinates - had lived here, while using everyone below them as slaves. It reminded him of Chicago, before the collapse had finally begun. The people who lived in the fancy homes had claimed they wanted to help the poor, but instead they’d only made matters worse.
The Tokomak weren’t lying about their intentions, at least, Martin thought. They didn’t claim they were helping when they took over the entire known galaxy.
Here and there, he started to see signs of movement. Faces at windows, brief glimpses of alien life before they vanished again; brief flickers of light from inside houses, drawing his attention before they were turned off. His sensors reported a faint increase in communications traffic, although it was all
very low-level. He didn’t find it reassuring. There were plenty of things he could do with low-level communications that would really fuck up someone’s day.
“All the houses look the same,” Sergeant Howe said. His voice was quiet, but Martin tensed anyway. “Look at them. They’re practically identical.”
Martin nodded. The alien houses looked odd, just different enough to be uncanny, but the sergeant was right. They had started out exactly the same and they hadn't really changed, even as their inhabitants moved in. There didn't seem to be any customisation, none of the individuality he’d seen in the Solar Union. Perhaps the aliens didn't see any value in customising their houses. Or perhaps their housing association didn't let them. He’d heard enough grumbles from people who didn't know how lucky they were to know that housing associations could turn dictatorial very quickly.
A flicker of light danced through the sky, high above him. He looked up in time to see it strike the distant orbital tower and vanish into the tower’s forcefields. Lightning, he realised dumbly. The orbital tower seemed to be surrounded by dark clouds, as if they and their lightning were drawn to the massive structure. He wondered, morbidly, if the tower was truly safe. The Tokomak were safety freaks, determined to remove as much risk as possible, but there were limits. Even a hundred miles from the tower, it was still an awe-inspiring construction. It would have been a marvel even without the ring blocking out the sun.
The Long-Range War Page 13