The Long-Range War

by Christopher Nuttall

  We could slam rocks into the shield, she thought, but that would devastate the planet too.

  Her analysis subroutines failed to come up with anything better. A planet could supply enough power - and mount enough backup shield generators - to make it impossible for a heavy bombardment to crack the shield. The fleet could bang away at the planet for weeks without doing any significant damage. She could see a way for her to get under the shield - it wouldn't be that hard, if she was careful - but what then?

  She swept her awareness over the planet, looking for something - anything - that might be helpful. But nothing came to mind. N-Gann appeared to be nothing more than a giant industrial node, shipping complex and warehouse. She guessed there were shore leave facilities somewhere on the planet, perhaps near the lone orbital tower, but they were of no concern to her. There was no way she could land on the planet, claiming to be an innocent spacer. Her stealth mode wouldn't stand up to such close inspection.

  Nothing, she thought, finally. She remembered some of the weirder ideas for future weapons and smiled. What we really need is a supernova bomb.

  She shook her head as she took the LinkShip back towards the edge of the system. The enemy fleet was coming to life now, its first units moving with ponderous speed as they settled into formation. They were surprisingly elegant, for such huge ships; she would have admired their station-keeping if she hadn't known their exercises were designed more for show than anything else. The Tokomak had chosen to look good rather than be good. Hell, they hadn't had to be good. She hoped that attitude hadn't changed too much.

  But it had, if her analysis subroutines were correct. The Tokomak were sweeping space for possible threats - she put a little extra room between her and the enemy fleet - their sensors displaying a considerable improvement over the recordings from five years ago. Their gunboats, too, were patrolling in a manner that was almost human. Hameeda’s lips quirked as she thought about how some of their old sweats must have reacted to their flight paths. If a human who was a mere seventy years old had problems adapting to modern technology, how much worse must it be for an aged Tokomak?

  They’ve probably improved their missiles too, she thought. They might even have hammers.

  She sighed, inwardly. There was nothing more to be gained, as far as she could tell, by prowling around the enemy system. She didn't dare go any closer to the fleet, or to the planet itself, and yet there was nothing else of interest in the remainder of the system. None of the other planets appeared to be inhabited, as far as her sensors could tell. Normally, she would have surveyed them anyway, just to be sure, but the enemy fleet was on its way. She didn't need a complex analysis program to tell that it was heading for Winglet. The enemy CO must have learnt that Apsidal had been attacked.

  They won’t want to give Admiral Stuart time to dig in, Hameeda thought. The Tokomak had pioneered the technique of prefabricating fortresses for hasty assembly, but they took longer than the human engineers to put them together. And they won’t realise just how much she has dug in already.

  Rotating the LinkShip, she sped past the alien fleet - taking one final look at the starships as she passed - and then dropped into FTL. Sweat was dripping down her forehead as she removed the helmet, her uniform so drenched that she started to strip it off in the command room before walking down to take a shower. The flight to Winglet wouldn't take her more than a couple of days, but it would take much longer for an entire fleet. She doubted the enemy fleet would reach Winglet in less than five days.

  And we’ll be ready for them, Hameeda thought. She’d heard that Admiral Stuart had decided against placing any ships or fixed defences in Winglet, but GS-3532 was another story. A handful of minefields would probably be more than enough to slow the enemy down, at least for a few minutes. They’d certainly have to brace themselves before pushing more ships through the gravity point. They won’t know what hit them.

  Smiling, she had a quick shower and headed for bed. She didn't feel that tired - she thought it was a sign that she was getting used to the connection - but she knew she had to get some rest while she could. There would be no time for sleep once the shooting started. Admiral Stuart hadn’t told her what she actually wanted from the LinkShip, once the shit really hit the fan, but Hameeda was sure there would be something. The LinkShip had more than proved its worth.

  She’ll want me to raid the enemy rear, she thought, as she closed her eyes. Or something that will give the enemy a real fright.

  On that thought, she drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  It was impossible, even for a trained spacer, to pick out one star from the unblinking array of lights glowing in the inky darkness of space and say, with confidence, that it was a particular star. Neola didn't know the star she was looking at was their destination - or if the dim star ahead of her was actually Sol - but it didn’t matter. They were in the right general area and that was all that mattered.

  She stood in the observation blister, watching as ship after ship - so close that they were visible to the naked eye - fell into place, allowing the formation to take shape and form. It still awed her to know that so much firepower was under her command, even though failure would be utterly disastrous for her. Her rivals wouldn't hesitate to remove her if they thought they could get away with it. And yet, it would be worse for the entire Tokomak race. If they failed so badly, if they let a younger race beat them, the other junior races would rise up in revolt. And some of the Galactics might join them.

  A servant brought her a glass of Hyacinth wine and she sipped it, savouring the taste. It had been reserved for the gerontocrats, once upon a time, but no longer. She could drink it now, if she wished, although she thought it was just a little too strong. The gerontocrats had been old, of course. They’d probably thought it was too weak.

  She smiled at the thought, then sobered. She’d been a spacer for long enough to know, from records if not experience, that trying to be clever in wartime was a good way to lose. There were too many things that could go wrong with her plan, although - in some ways - that was an advantage. The humans might consider the possibility of her trying to be clever, but they wouldn't take it very seriously. They might not even take more than basic precautions ...

  And even if they do, they don’t have many options, she reminded herself. The humans had done well, in taking Apsidal, but they’d trapped themselves too. They were committed to a fixed defence of a star system very far from their homeworld. It isn’t as if they can just flee back home.

  She sighed, feeling the weight of command settling around her shoulders. She ruled, now. She ruled an empire larger than anything a mere human could hope to comprehend, an empire that looked solid, from the outside, but was actually terrifyingly fragile. The empire was held together by the threat of force, not force itself. She knew, all too well, just what would happen if half the empire revolted. There were already entire sectors that had effectively slipped out of their control. How long would it be before the remainder of the empire was torn apart?

  We have to win, she told herself, as the fleet readied itself for the jump into FTL. Whatever the cost, whatever the pain, we have to win.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Well,” Hoshiko said. “That’s a lot of ships.”

  “A lot of ships,” Commodore Yu said. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d have said a fucking lot of ships, myself. Have we ever seen so many ships that we couldn't get an accurate count?”

  Hoshiko shook her head, wordlessly. The LinkShip had returned to Mokpo, bringing with it the first images of the oncoming juggernaut. She’d thought her fleet was large, when she’d set out from Sol, but the Tokomak fleet dwarfed her command. In a straight fight, even with her tech advantages, she’d lose. The only thing slowing them down was the need to pass through each gravity point one by one, causing considerable delay. Her most conservative calculations insisted that the Tokomak would need months - practically a year - to reach Sol.

  But when they do, they’ll
sweep across the system like locusts and destroy everything we’ve built, she thought. It wouldn't be long before the Tokomak reached Winglet, if they hadn’t reached Winglet and GS-3532 already. They could cross the gulf of space between N-Gann and Winglet in FTL. We have to stop them here.

  She turned her attention to the long-range sensors. Traffic in and out of Apsidal had fallen off sharply over the last two weeks, even though she’d made it clear that civilian traffic would still be permitted to pass through the gravity points after a brief inspection. Rumours were already spreading widely, if her intelligence officers were to be believed. Some interstellar corporations were waiting for the Tokomak to regain the system before they started to send ships through the gravity points again; others, more fatalistic, were simply hanging back until Armageddon had come and gone. The handful of convoys that had passed through the gravity points had been operated by combines that simply couldn’t afford to wait for the situation to resolve itself.

  “I assume we’ll be meeting them here,” Commodore Abdul said, his words breaking into her thoughts. His holographic image looked pensive as he stroked his goatee. “We can give them one hell of a bloody nose.”

  “We’ll be harassing them from the moment they show themselves in GS-3532,” Hoshiko said, keeping her doubts to herself. It was quite possible that the fast formations she’d dispatched to GS-3532 were already under fire. She wouldn't know until the courier boats reported back. “And we’ll keep bleeding them until they attack us here, in force.”

  “We’ll just be nibbling at their flanks,” Commodore Hassan pointed out. “We’re not going to inflict much, if any, damage.”

  “No,” Hoshiko agreed. “But we can put them on notice that they’re no longer the unchallenged masters of the universe. Their servants will take note.”

  She allowed her face to darken at the thought. The Tokomak had been masters of the known universe for so long that the other races, even the Galactics, seemed to instinctively defer to them. There was no real difference between their dominance and playground politics, where a bully might cow his classmates without ever having to actually do anything. And yet, if the human race showed that the Tokomak could be challenged - that they could be beaten - who knew what it would unleash? The Russian Emperor Nicholas II hadn’t known what would happen when his regime lost its aura of invincibility. Hoshiko suspected the Tokomak didn't know either.

  And a number of their ships are crewed by their servant races, she thought, grimly. We might just convince the bastards to turn on their masters.

  She cleared her throat. “We’ll deploy additional squadrons and minefields to the gravity points here,” she said. “Mokpo itself can be ignored, for the moment” - the planet had refused all calls to surrender or join the Galactic Alliance - “and dealt with after the Tokomak have been stopped. And then ... we wait. They’ll have to come to us.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” Yu said. “We could take the entire fleet to GS-3532.”

  “And then get in trouble when we try to fall back,” Commodore Hassan countered. “Even with a five-second transit delay, the odds of an interpenetration event are terrifyingly high.”

  “Particularly if we’re trying to get thousands of ships through the gravity point while under enemy fire,” Hoshiko agreed. She didn’t envy the Tokomak. They had ships to waste ... and, by all the gods, they were going to waste a lot of them. “Better to fight the main engagement here, where we have layer upon layer of fixed defences.”

  She allowed her eyes to sweep the room - and the assembly of holograms. “I’ll be returning to Apsidal this afternoon,” she added. “Commodore Hassan will remain in command at Mokpo. Are there any concerns before we bring this meeting to a close?”

  “Merely that we could do with a few more ships,” Commodore Hassan said. “Say ... a million or two.”

  Hoshiko smiled, humourlessly. “We can hope that the Galactic Alliance comes up with a fleet,” she said, although she wasn’t convinced that it would ever arrive. The last set of updates had been vague on the fleet’s exact arrival date, so vague that she was starting to think that the Galactic Alliance was having second thoughts. They might not have seen the enemy fleet, but they certainly knew how many ships their former masters could deploy. “If they manage to dispatch some ships ...”

  She shook her head. “We won’t count on them until they arrive. Are there any other concerns?”

  “No, Admiral,” Commodore Yu said.

  Hoshiko looked from face to face and nodded. “Dismissed,” she said. “Good luck to us all.”

  She watched the holographic images vanish, then turned her attention to the main display. The enemy fleet was clearly visible, falling into formation as it set out from N-Gann. She reminded herself, once again, that the report was several days out of date. They didn’t dare assume that the enemy wouldn't make all haste. The Tokomak had to know, by now, that she’d taken Apsidal. They’d want to recover the gravity points before she managed to dig in so deeply that even their fleet couldn't dig her out.

  Tapping her console, she brought up the latest series of reports. Everything was running smoothly, smoothly enough to worry her. The local industries were churning out vast numbers of mines, outdated missiles and other products she could put to use. Indeed, deploying the mines would take longer than producing them. And yet, she knew just how much firepower was bearing down on her. There was a very good chance that all their efforts would simply be swept aside.

  But we’ll make them bleed, she thought. Oh yes, we’ll make them bleed.

  She looked up at the display again, silently calculating - once again - just how long it would take the enemy fleet to reach Apsidal. Weeks perhaps, if they were lucky. She disliked the idea of just standing still and waiting to be hit - she had always preferred to go on the offensive - but there was no choice. She was in a perfect position to stop the enemy in their tracks. They had to come to her.

  And yet, their sheer weight of numbers works in their favour, she reminded herself. It was nice to think that the Tokomak would just send their ships through the gravity point, one by one, giving her a chance to wipe out their entire fleet, but she doubted they’d cooperate that much. The Tokomak hadn’t launched a full-scale gravity point assault in centuries, if the records were to be trusted, yet they presumably hadn’t forgotten how to do it. The lone warrior on a bridge can still be overwhelmed and killed if the enemy just keeps coming at him.

  She contemplated the thought for a moment, then keyed her communicator. “Yolanda? My compliments to Captain Lifar and inform him that we are to return through the gravity point as soon as possible.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Yolanda said. She sounded tired. The poor girl had been working double shifts as Hoshiko’s staff struggled to cope with their ever-expanding responsibilities. “I’ll inform him at once.”

  And then take a rest, Hoshiko thought. She looked up at the display, once again. We’re going to be very busy when that fleet arrives.

  ***

  “This is the weirdest place I’ve ever visited,” Trooper Rowe said, as the team explored yet another sector of the Apsidal Ring. “And I visited the ruins of Dubai.”

  Captain Martin Luther Douglas shrugged. “Just keep your eyes on the floor,” he said, shortly. There was something about the immense structure that screwed with their minds, as if there was something fundamentally wrong about it. “You’ll be fine.”

  He forced himself to keep his unease under control. The Apsidal Ring was so large that there shouldn't be any sense of curvature, let alone anything else that might unsettle his mind. And yet ... he shook his head, telling himself that it wasn’t a problem. They might as well be on the planet’s surface. There were few differences between the interior of the ring and the giant megacities on the planet below.

  His sense of unease deepened as they passed through a set of airlocks and into what looked like a giant garden. The Apsidal Ring reminded him of a Stanford Torus Space Colony, although it was on a far greater
scale than anything in the Solar System. Perhaps it was that that was bothering him, he thought. The Apsidal Ring felt like a Stanford Torus that had been turned inside out to catch the sunlight.

  “They’ve got plants here from across the galaxy,” Trooper Singh commented, as they made their way down the nearest path. “Who do you think owns this place?”

  “Some rich fucker,” Trooper Rowe suggested. “The whole place feels like a gated community to me.”

  Martin was tempted to agree. The Apsidal Ring was secure - or, at least, it should have been secure. Perhaps it had been, in the beginning. It was quite easy to imagine mega-rich aliens buying large sections of the ring and turning it into their private kingdom. There were a number of asteroid settlements back home that hosted people who were quite staggeringly rich. Thankfully, they never made a show of flaunting their wealth in front of the poor.

  And most of them earned their money, he thought. He’d learned to respect people who’d turned themselves into millionaires, although he’d come to realise that he’d never be wealthy himself. The Solar Union adored self-made men and scorned inherited wealth. I wonder how many of the aliens earned their cash ...