The Long-Range War

by Christopher Nuttall

  Conner yawned. “Can I go back to bed, mummy?”

  “You haven’t finished your homework,” Hameeda said, amused. She took one last look at the enemy ships, then dropped into FTL. “You can rest when this is over.”

  “Hah,” Conner said. “It will never be over.”

  Jeanette shot him an odd look. “Why not?”

  “We can win this battle - no, this campaign,” Conner said. “And yet, it won’t be the last campaign. We could be fighting this war for years.”

  “And, every year, we’ll have better and better weapons,” Hameeda said. “We might find ourselves with weapons that can blow their entire navy away with a single shot.”

  She smiled at the thought, although she knew they couldn’t count on a technological breakthrough. Her subroutines had attempted to predict the course of the war, but none of their answers had been particularly good. It depended on the underlying assumptions fed into the systems. Would the Galactics remain united in the face of military defeat? Would the middle-class races take advantage of the opportunity to rise against their masters? Or ... there were simulations where humanity romped to victory and simulations where the only humans left were the ones who’d fled the galaxy completely. There were simply too many variables for anyone to make an accurate prediction.

  And yes, we might invent something tomorrow that will turn the whole universe upside down, she thought. Or they might invent it.

  It was a galling thought, she considered, but one that had to be faced. They’d gone into the campaign with the belief that the human race would always have an edge in imagination, but events had proved them wrong. The Tokomak might be ancient, and they might have a superiority complex that put anything humanity had evolved to shame, yet they were clearly far from stupid. They’d learned from their experiences and kicked humanity’s ass.

  “The war will not go on forever,” Jeanette said. Hameeda hastily dragged her attention back to her two guests. “And what will you do afterwards?”

  Hameeda took a moment to review the conversation. Jeanette had been talking about their lives after the war ...

  “I’ll think of something,” she said. “Perhaps I’ll go exploring.”

  She told them both to concentrate as the LinkShip dropped out of FTL on top of the Winglet Point. Five enemy ships lingered near the gravity point, but otherwise it was completely undefended. Hameeda hesitated, reminded herself that the enemy had little to gain by turning the system into a strongpoint and steered through the gravity point. The universe disappeared ... and reappeared, bringing with it a small fleet of enemy ships. Hameeda tensed, expecting to come under fire at any moment. It felt as if she’d walked right into a trap ...

  “Hang on,” she said, as she realised the enemy ships were scanning the gravity point. “We might have to run.”

  Alerts flashed up in front of her. The enemy had seen her! She threw caution to the winds and gunned her drives, flashing away from the gravity point as the enemy ships opened fire with savage intensity. She threw the LinkShip through a series of evasive manoeuvres as she hurled her ship towards the edge of the gravity point, then slammed the LinkShip into FTL as soon as she was clear. There was a point - long enough to feel like an eternity - when she feared she’d activated the drive too early, or the enemy were trying to trap her in normal space, before they jumped into FTL. She let out a sigh of relief. That had been far too close.

  “That could have been worse,” she said, as she disengaged the neural helmet and stood on wobbly legs. She’d been sitting for too long, at least partly to avoid her guests. “We’re setting course for Galan now.”

  She straightened her uniform, then walked down the corridor to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of tea. The other two could join her or not, as they liked. Her hands shook as she poured water into the teapot, then searched for a cup and saucer. That had definitely been way too close. The only reason she knew it wasn’t a deliberate ambush was that they hadn’t been ready for the LinkShip. They’d probably assumed the stay-behind forces would be making the jump.

  “That was very well done,” Conner said, as he stepped into the kitchen. “We collected a great deal of valuable data.”

  “But not enough,” Hameeda said. “I have a feeling we’ll be heading to N-Gann in the near future.”

  “Probably,” Conner said. “Do you think the Admiral’s plan will work?”

  Hameeda shrugged. The simulations, like every other simulation she’d run, couldn’t give her a clear answer. Admiral Stuart’s plan was risky, but so was every other option. And at least she’d have the chance to back off if it was clear the whole plan had gone to hell.

  She took a sip of her tea and studied Conner, instead. He was reasonably handsome, reasonably clean ... she could take him to bed, if she wished. She would be surprised if he declined. Or Jeanette ... no, she’d always found it harder to maintain relationships with other women. The touch of misanthropy in her, the distaste for long-term companionship that had made her an ideal candidate for the program, also made it hard to form emotional connections. A man would understand a no-strings relationship. A woman might not.

  And I don’t like her anyway, she thought. Jeanette was pretty, but abrasive. She and Hameeda had more in common than either one would care to admit. I don’t want to go to bed with her.

  She smiled at the thought, then looked at Conner. A mischievous glint entered her eye as she met his. “Would you like to go to bed with me?”

  Conner stared at her, shocked. Such a blunt invitation ... it had to have surprised him. The Solar Union took an open attitude to sex, but it was rare for anyone - male or female - to be prepositioned so openly. And ...

  “Ah, yes,” he stammered. “I ...”

  Hameeda smiled again, then held out her hand. “Come on,” she said. “The bed is waiting.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I must be out of my mind, Martin thought, as he scrambled up the shaft. What was I drinking when I thought up this idea?

  He forced himself to keep moving, even though it felt as though the walls were gradually closing in. The shaft might have been designed for creatures that were larger than humans - the shaft was actually wider than some of the tubes he’d used during basic training - but there was something wrong about the dimensions. The ladder shifting ominously under his weight - and that of the three men following him - didn’t help. He had the nasty feeling they were going to fall to their deaths long before they reached the top.

  Don’t think about it, he told himself sharply, as he kept heading up the ladder. They were deep in enemy territory now, far too close to their garrisons for comfort. The scale of the ring would make it difficult for the Tokomak to guard everywhere, but they could have scattered hundreds of sensors around the ring. The team didn’t dare talk amongst themselves, let alone use even a single microburst transmitter. Just keep going.

  It felt like hours before the top of the shaft finally came into view. He crawled out and slumped on the deck for a moment before staggering to his feet and looking around. The shaft terminated in a repair shack, mounted on the outer edge of the ring. He peered through a tiny porthole, feeling his senses reel as - once again - his mind struggled to grasp the sheer scale of the ring. It looked immensely huge and yet - somehow - tiny at the same time. He looked down at the ground as Sergeant Howe emerged from the tube, carrying the HVM launcher slung over one shoulder. It was easier to think of the ring’s surface as just another patch of flatland. It was just too huge for the curve to be noticeable.

  He’d expected, even though he’d known better, that the outer edge of the ring would be smooth. Instead, it looked like a deeply-weird city. Giant constructions rose up, poking towards the stars, yet there was something ... unfinished about them, as if a child had built the whole city out of building blocks. No one moved on the ring’s surface, save for a pair of shuttles taking off from the distant spaceport. The whole complex was just eerie.

  He checked his suit’s life support,
making sure he could survive in vacuum, then signalled for Trooper Rowe to open the hatch. The Galactics didn't seem to have bothered with any real precautions, certainly nothing to keep the outer hatch from opening while the inner hatch was open too. It struck him as careless, quite out of character for the Tokomak. But then, the maintenance shaft was part of a complex that could be easily sealed off from the rest of the ring. A slow leak would prove more dangerous in the long run, he thought, than leaving both hatches open ...

  Bracing himself, he opened the outer hatch and stepped out. The gravity field was weak outside the ring itself, but strong enough to hold him down as long as he didn’t do anything stupid like jumping for joy. He glanced up at the unblinking stars, wondering which of them were starships holding position high above the planet, then forced himself to take a step forward. It felt strange, reminding him - again - of his basic training. Zero-g operations had defeated men he’d been sure would graduate as marines. He swallowed hard, then pushed himself onwards. He’d get used to it.

  The exterior of the ring seemed dead - and yet alive - as he strode into the city-like construction. He felt as if he was an ant crawling over something unimaginably vast, an explorer entering a lost city for the first time. Giant machines moved in incomprehensible patterns, while others - older and smaller - remained utterly unmoving. A construction the size of a skyscraper on Earth towered over him as he passed, only the lack of windows convincing him that it wasn’t a skyscraper. Surely, even aliens would want to see the stars.

  A shuttle flew overhead. He tensed, sure they’d been spotted, but the shuttle flew away before they could hide or try to shoot it down. There was a brief pause to exchange hand signals, then they continued their march towards the spaceport. It felt like hours before it finally came into view. Martin stared at it, feeling - once again - a strong sense of unreality. The spaceport was huge, yet ... yet it looked more like a model than a real construction. He could see hundreds of freighters, ranging from small transports to giant bulk carriers, docked along the ring. As he watched, another bulk carrier appeared out of the inky darkness above and dropped down towards the spaceport. It moved with all the grace of a thrown brick, but somehow managed to land neatly beside the docking port. Martin was almost impressed. No one in their right mind would try to land a ship that size on a planetary surface.

  His eyes swept the scene. Dozens of automated robots were moving around, unloading sealed crates and transporting them into the ring. Larger vehicles were helping to move freighters, as aircraft would be moved around an airfield on Earth; Martin watched, impressed despite himself, as a mid-sized freighter was moved into a hangar elevator and taken underground. It sank into the ring and vanished.

  He glanced back at Howe, then motioned for him to set up the HVM launcher. Normally, it wouldn’t be used to engage anything larger than a shuttle, but the ring’s spaceport was a special case. Starship shields would normally be able to shrug off a HVM - it wasn’t as if they carried antimatter warheads - yet they weren’t allowed to use their shields close to the ring. Martin suspected the spaceport’s defences - which had been destroyed during the first invasion - were configured to vaporise a freighter that lost control, rather than risk having it crash into the spaceport. There was a reason most races declined to risk having large ships land on their planets.

  Ready, Howe signalled.

  Wait for it, Martin signalled back. They wanted a good target, something big enough to do real damage, but not big enough to shrug off the HVM even without shields. A warship would barely notice the impact. We’ll get our chance.

  He peered into space, allowing his suit’s sensors to pick out a multitude of possible targets overhead. The bulk carrier was big enough to do damage, but there were too many redundancies built into her drive systems for her to be an easy target; the light freighter would be an easy target, yet she wouldn’t do enough damage to make the effort worthwhile. He forced himself to wait, despite the risk of being spotted, until a mid-sized freighter drifted into view. That would make an ideal target.

  Fire when ready, he signalled.

  Howe took aim, then fired. The HVM streaked across the spaceport and slammed into the freighter’s drive section. Its drive field staggered, then collapsed completely. Gravity asserted itself a second later, yanking the freighter down to the ring. Martin ducked as the enemy ship smashed into a bulk freighter, which exploded with staggering force. The entire ring seemed to quiver under his feet as a series of secondary explosions swept the spaceport clear. He doubted the blasts would damage the structural integrity of the ring itself - it was a very solid piece of work - but they would do a hell of a lot of damage.

  He looked up. The spaceport had been devastated. A handful of ships were streaming oxygen or superheated plasma, while a chain of explosions was shattering the lower levels and hopefully killing the enemy logistics staff. Martin would have preferred to kill the enemy’s front-line combat soldiers, but he understood the logic. The Tokomak would have problems coordinating their offensive further into the ring if their logistics staff were killed. They didn’t use AIs to do the hard work ...

  This way, he signalled. The enemy had been shocked, but it wouldn’t be long before they got suited up and gave chase. Hurry.

  He allowed himself a tight smile as they hurried back into the city, trying to make it to the maintenance shaft. The Tokomak didn’t seem to have considered the possibility of someone going outside the ring to attack them, but they knew now. And they’d be able to use it for themselves, once they worked out what had happened. They might drop troops into the rebel-held sections of the ring in a bid to catch them by surprise.

  We hit them, they hit us, he thought. The Tokomak were supposed to have unlimited manpower reserves, but there was no way they could bring their entire reserves to bear on the ring. And we keep killing them until they kill us.

  It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but it had to be faced. They’d been trapped on the ring for nearly three weeks, sniping at the enemy whenever they got the chance. Major Griffin might talk a good game - and he had enough logistics capability to keep his troops armed and mobile - yet the engagement couldn’t go on forever. Oh, in theory it could - the ring was immense, large enough to hide a dozen armies - but in practice, Martin knew they were getting ground down. They couldn't keep the engagement going indefinitely.

  We might have to, he told himself. What happens if the fleet never returns?

  They reached the repair shack and checked it carefully, then clambered down the shaft. It didn’t look as though the enemy had realised what had happened - or maybe they simply hadn't had a QRF at the ready - but there was no way to be sure. They’d pulled off quite a few ambushes before. Who knew what was about to happen?

  No one, Martin thought, as they passed through a pair of airlocks. No one knows what is about to happen.

  ***

  “So,” the Empress said. “What happened?”

  General Wooleen was not having a good day. Spacers - even a spacer as smart as the Empress - simply didn’t grasp the complexities of planetside warfare. Space warfare was relatively simple, as long as both sides had relatively even technology; planetside warfare was frighteningly complex. General Wooleen was one of the youngest and most adaptable officers to gain power under the old regime and yet even he knew that success was never guaranteed. He’d have suspected that the only reason he’d been promoted was so that his superiors would have a scapegoat, except he doubted the old buzzards had possessed the imagination to think they’d need one. No doubt they were wishing they’d cracked down harder on imaginative subordinates now.

  “They sneaked an attack close to Spaceport Two, Your Excellency,” he said. It had taken his officers some time to realise what had actually happened. They’d assumed that the whole disaster had been an accident - or a long-range shot from an enemy starship - before they’d put the pieces together and figured out the truth. “They were lucky enough to hit one of the ammunition freighters.”

>   The Empress looked thoroughly displeased. Even in the holographic display, she was a terrifying figure. General Wooleen tried hard to keep his face expressionless. The whole concept of revolt against one’s elders had been unthinkable until the Empress had simply launched a coup. No one had tried to stop her because what she’d done had been literally inconceivable, at least until she’d done it. Now ... now General Wooleen couldn't help wondering what would happen if the Empress saw him as a threat.

  “This will put us behind schedule,” she said. “How badly will it put us behind schedule?”

  “Weeks, if not months,” General Wooleen said. There was no point in trying to lie. The Empress was not some elderly idiot who couldn’t tell the difference between a setback and a catastrophe. “We simply cannot sustain the offensive in that sector without the spaceport, Your Excellency, and we cannot rebuild in a hurry. The damage is simply too great. Worse, we must also guard the other spaceports. They may be targeted too. The enemy has hit on a way to hurt us at little cost.”