Battle Station sf-5

by B. V. Larson

  Moreover, returning the ship might help with relations between Earth and Eden…I paused, considering the thought I’d just had. Was that how it was now? Two separate political entities? Was such a thought exactly how all colonies began to break away?

  I shook my head fractionally, rejecting the idea. I was still Star Force-as were Sarin and Crow. We might not be in the same place, but we were all on the same side. The last thing we needed in this war was more bickering amongst ourselves.

  “Sir?” Sarin asked. She was still waiting for her answer.

  “Just thinking for a moment-um, yes. Take your ship home, Captain. I think that would be best. Tell Admiral Crow about our victory at Eden. Tell him I will be coming home in time as well, when this flank is secure. At that point, I will secure our other flank, keeping enemies out of our home systems from both directions. The rings will be fortified, and we will control who comes in or goes out.”

  Captain Sarin seemed surprised, but relieved. I could tell she’d been thinking hard about how to ask me. She’d probably come up with a counter to every argument I might give her-but I hadn’t give her any of them. I’d simply let her go.

  The next three days saw the liberation of two more Centaur worlds. The one we were in orbit over was easy and quick. I brought down my gunships from orbit and destroyed the domes by overloading them with railgun fire. By sending in a platoon of charging marines and about a thousand Centaur troops when the dome was fizzling and brown, I was able to capture two more of the gigantic production facilities. The third one, however, blew itself up. More than thirty good men died. I cursed and drank that night as we flew to the next planet.

  This time, we proceeded more cautiously. We bombarded the dome until it went down entirely, planning to damage the production facility from the air after it was defenseless. That way, even if it blew up, it wouldn’t take any of my men with it.

  It didn’t work out that way. As soon as the dome went down, the factory detonated. It was the same with the rest. The Macros apparently didn’t want to give us any more factories. I didn’t blame them, but I did curse them.

  When the last Macro stronghold fell two weeks after the Battle for Eden, as it became known, we’d captured a grand total of three factories that were in working order. Still, I had to count myself lucky. The system was free of the enemy machines at last.

  Goa left the system just before we assaulted the last world. I watched Jasmine go through the ring to the Helios system with conflicted feelings. I wondered when we would meet again, and under what circumstances.

  I forced away such thoughts and turned back to the final assault. We’d moved as quickly as we could, not wanting to give the Macros time to build any new ships. I was worried they would imitate our ship designs, producing smaller ships in a shorter amount of time. But apparently, whatever flash of insight had guided them to recent advances was not to be repeated. They put out a few dozen large war machines with anti-air flechette systems on their backs, but that was all. We took them out from orbit then worked the domes down until they committed suicide.

  I was only slightly disappointed in the end. We’d managed to save most of the Centaur civilians, and had gained a vastly more powerful infrastructure. Three Macro production units and a matching number of Nano factories represented an astounding level of output.

  I had a celebratory beer with Miklos, Kwon and Sloan. Sandra crashed the party at about beer number five. She had a few with us, then began kissing on me. The rest of the guys exchanged amused glances and left.

  Sandra immediately left my lap and sat across from me. I looked at her in surprise.

  “Did you chase them off on purpose?” I asked.

  “I wanted to talk.”

  I sighed. I’d been hoping for more than just talk. “Okay, what’s on your mind?”

  “I don’t trust Jasmine.”

  I shrugged. “I can understand that.”

  “She’s going to tell Crow everything. About the factories, the battle, and our new tactics.”

  “That’s called a debriefing, Sandra,” I told her. “I’m expecting her to do that. It would be a dereliction of duty not to inform the good Admiral of every detail.”

  Sandra pursed her lips. “You never told me about what went on between you two. I mean, how did we end up taking over her ship?”

  I took a long draw on my beer, finishing it. I leaned forward with a roar and slammed it down on the table. The can and the table both crumpled a bit at the impact. I wasn’t angry, I was just feeling good.

  “I’m withholding that information,” I said. “Let’s just say that we had a difference of opinion, and I straightened her out concerning her command status.”

  “Do you think she’ll report that part? About being demoted to a Captain?”

  I chuckled. “I’m not sure. Knowing Jasmine, I think she probably will. She’s usually a stickler for the rules.”

  “Then why did she turn on you?”

  “That was our fault-I mean Crow and I caused it. We’ve never been clear enough with our subordinates about who has the final authority in any given situation. The truth was, I was so surprised by her action I reacted on gut instinct. I probably could have handled it better.”

  “There wasn’t time. You had a battle to fight. Jasmine didn’t know what she was doing.”

  “She learned a lot, I think.”

  Sandra finally returned to my lap. She kissed me then, and everything felt good for a while.

  “Do you still have feelings for her?” she asked suddenly.

  I hesitated, blinking and thinking. I knew I’d been tricked. A man’s defenses are always down when a female is in his arms. He’s liable to say things he’ll regret later-or in my case, not to say them fast enough.

  Her smile turned into an instant glare. Her hand moved with blurring speed. I knew the slap was coming-but it didn’t land.

  Both of us looked at her hand in surprise. I’d reached up and grabbed her wrist, stopping her dead. She struggled to pull away her hand, but I held her tightly. I didn’t want her to haul off and try to hit me again.

  She stared at me for a second in confusion. “You aren’t that fast,” she said. “No one is faster than me.”

  “I am now.”

  “Oh-those baths. Damn that robot. I should take him apart. Let go of my hand.”

  “Are we going to kiss or fight?”

  She thought about it for a second. She wriggled and I let go of her hand. She crossed her arms and looked annoyed. I waited.

  “Okay,” she said finally, her anger melting. “We’ll kiss.”

  Half an hour later, we fell asleep together. Neither of us stirred for about ten hours. It had been a long campaign.

  The greatest construction project of my career began immediately after my morning shower and breakfast. Finally, at long last, I was ready to build the fortifications I’d envisioned the day I’d found Hel and the ring nearby. It would be a long, difficult effort, but I felt I had the production capacity to do it right now.

  My first idea was to take all three of the Macro factories to Hel and begin churning out massive amounts of weaponry. I decided against it, in the end. Instead, I left the facilities I’d set up at the bottom of the mining pit on Eden-11 where they were. That one Nano factory and one Macro factory, being fed a continuous flow of minerals by our own Macro workers, was a production miracle. The operation built new gunships every day, and I liked it that way. If the enemy came at us again, I wanted plenty of fresh ships. I couldn’t run an empire without a fleet.

  I frowned as I thought of the word empire. Was that what I was doing? Building an empire? I didn’t really like the term. I preferred federation, or republic.

  There were several races involved in this war with us. Certainly, Earth was the only biotic species with a significant military right now, but over time that may well change. There were so many things to work out. I hadn’t even considered trade treaties and the like. Who owned the various terran planets in
this system, for example? Were they the sole possessions of the Centaurs?

  I tried to push these complexities away. Usually, such matters were above the pay grade of soldiers. I liked it that way. I had enough to worry about just organizing the defeat of the enemy.

  Trying to forget about empires, I focused on my original goal. I hauled two Macro production units and two Nano factories out to the frozen rock we’d named Hel. Two of the Nano factories had come from the Centaurs. They’d given them up easily enough when I’d asked. I’d really needed them to match up with a Macro production unit. Together, I could produce new things on a grand scale.

  I felt like a kid in a sandbox as I surveyed the frozen rock we called Hel. Fortunately, Macros didn’t need much sunlight or an atmosphere to function. I built a large number of worker bots first, smart ones with nanite tentacles as well as Macro-type claws and drilling heads. The machines dug in, providing a vast bounty of metals, water to break down for fuel and other useful compounds. All I had to do was order the factories to build stuff with the endless minerals.

  And build they did. Within a month, the skeleton of the battle station took shape. It was simple enough in design, really. I decided flat surfaces were easier to design and place equipment on than curved ones, so I built a giant cube. As I thought of new things to add, the cube elongated somewhat into a rectangular obelisk. Generators went in first, then weapons. The marines complained, but I didn’t give them more than a few thousand square feet for living space to start. Eventually, they would have hot showers, mess halls and even a theater or two. But to begin with, I wanted firepower. The entire endeavor would be a sick joke if Macros showed up early and attacked something that amounted to the terran equivalent of a Centaur habitat.

  So they complained, and I ignored them, and we all kept building. After working on the battle station for two solid months, I got an idea. It had been growing on me over time. Partly, it was due to the grueling cold and discomfort of working in deep space. My men and I could not help but look sunward, eying those lovely planets. We all wondered if we would ever be able to take a sweet vacation on an untouched tropical beach, or hike up a green-carpeted mountain.

  My idea was a predatory idea, to some degree, and it made me frown at myself. But I felt the stakes were very high for the future of my race, so I decided to talk to the Centaurs about it. What could it hurt?

  I flew closer to the inner planets and sat in a ship among the Centaur worlds. I watched the planet orbit quietly through thick glass, and admired them each in turn as I flew from one to another.

  It took nearly a full day to contact members of the Centaur leadership to discuss a serious domestic matter. They were understandably busy with the repopulation of their homeworld.

  “Hello, this is Colonel Kyle Riggs,” I said, when I’d finally found someone from their highest council. “Who am I talking to?”

  “One who has been chosen to lead many.”

  I nodded. They always gave me answers like that. They had names, but they weren’t really much help. They were mostly named after plants they liked to eat, or various shapes of stones, or the soft notes that the wind made. They had about a hundred words each for wind-sounds and rock-shapes.

  Contacting the herds was always problematic. They didn’t have a social structure that was very clear to me, even now. As closely as I understood their politics, they had a system that was vaguely feudal in nature. An oligarchy, as my political theory textbook would have called it. But it wasn’t necessarily a hereditary oligarchy. Usually, the most powerful ram was accepted as the leader of a given group. Sometimes the female ewes ran things, but it was less common. This system worked well enough for a few hundred individuals, but they needed to take it to a higher level to function with vast herds numbering in the millions. Their solution was simple and almost charming. In the spring, they gathered all the local herds and held contests between the leaders. These contests measured relative wit, agility and fighting prowess. It wasn’t all head-butting, but there was certainly an element of physical struggle. When the best of the best were selected, they formed a herd of their own, so to speak. This was their oligarchy.

  Viewed from a human perspective, it didn’t seem like such a political system could really function in an advanced society. But the Centaurs had an advantage over us: they truly were herd creatures. They followed their leaders to the death. They might struggle over mates, but they did not fight violent wars amongst themselves the way we’d done for millennia. They were highly cooperative, and that led to group efforts and surprising achievements. In comparison, I was almost embarrassed by our complex, back-stabbing society.

  “I wish to discuss the worlds in your star system,” I said when I finally got the right Centaur representative online. I felt a bit guilty as I brought the topic up. It felt like I was trying to borrow money-a lot of money.

  “The winds over time are profuse.”

  “Yes…” I said, as if I knew what he meant. “And there are many worlds here in this system. We would like to utilize some of them to build defenses for this star system. At any time, the enemy machines might return. We must be strong to meet them.”

  “The ram must be powerful to win the ewe.”

  “Right. So, let me ask you straight out: can we have a planet or two?”

  There was a moment of hesitation. I wasn’t sure if they were thinking it over, or trying to understand what I was talking about.

  When the Nano ships had first come, they’d been a socially simplistic people with advanced technology. They were bright, and knew how to construct things they needed such as communications systems, bridges, dams and shelters. When the Nano ships had shown up and allowed them to use their factories, they’d used them in a much more responsible fashion than the people of Earth had done. In a short amount of time, they’d built arks to colonize the various wild worlds of their star system. These arks were now parked in permanent orbit over these worlds, and still held most of their surviving members.

  Back on Earth, we’d fought and squabbled over the factories from the start. Sure, we hadn’t had them for as long, nor had we been given much leisure time with them. We’d been pressed from the very beginning to build military equipment to face the Macros. But still, we could have done better if all of us had cooperated as the Centaurs had.

  When Centaur leader finally answered, he spoke confidently. “We have no need for any world that lacks a blue sky. Please make use of them.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “That is most generous.”

  “The ground will shake with your pounding feet, even if there is no air to allow sounds to be made. A pity. Can there be honor for an army with silent feet?”

  “Uh, I don’t know. No-I take that back. I do know. Of course there can be honor for a quiet army. Honor is won on the battlefield through victory. If an army saves the young back home, it does not matter where the battle took place.”

  “Wisely said. We will relay your words to countless ears.”

  “That’s great,” I said, struggling a bit with what to say next. As always, talking to the Centaurs was a delicate affair. I felt even less comfortable, as I was trying to talk them out of one of their worlds. It was like asking a shy girl out on a date, without knowing a single word of her language. You had to stay friendly and patient, and keep working hard to figure out any hint of what she was thinking.

  “What are your intentions for the blue-sky worlds?” I asked. “I know you built arks and flew them there, but the Macros interrupted your plans.”

  “In our waking dreams, we see vast herds on these planets. They have grasses of a different flavor, and winds with a different schtifft, but we will adapt.”

  The reason I was interested in the warmer worlds was simple enough: they were empty. The Centaurs had abandoned the habitat over Eden-11 first. They’d move their other habitats to Eden-11 as well, and were quickly repopulating their homeworld. They much preferred cooler mountain ranges and the stark blue skies. This lef
t the other habitable worlds unoccupied for now.

  I cleared my throat and went for it. “We humans breathe air as you do. We enjoy blue skies and cool winds. We need a place to live if we are to stay here long. Right now, we are stuck inside our cramped ships, just as your people once were.”

  There was a long pause. “We have dishonored ourselves!” the voice said at last. “When this is relayed, a hundred herd-leaders will trot off the nearest cliff in shame! A travesty has occurred!”

  “Um, I’m not sure what you mean. I only wished-”

  “Of course you do! You want what we cherish, the wind in your fur, the rain in your nostrils as you run. We are shamed, as we’ve been poor hosts. Always, it is the receiver of gifts who is blind. Honor has been lost, ours has been shed and given to by our unthinking selfishness.”

  “Hold on, I only meant-”

  “The answer is yes, stalwart allies! How many of the six blue skies will you have? How many will hold your people?”

  “Uh…” I said, my eyes wide. Greed gripped me, and I almost asked for five. But then I took a deep breath. “One will be enough. It will hold us all.”

  “You prove your loyalty and generosity time and again. Three you shall have. Our share of these lands shall be equal. We insist. Which three shall it be?”

  I thought hard for a moment. My heart was pounding. I knew I was making history, and I had to think, but it was difficult. Their own world was lovely, but the ice caps were huge. It was like Earth in an ice age. Each of the other worlds was warmer as they progressed sunward. I figured the middle worlds were the best, but I knew that the Centaurs liked it a little cooler than my people did. They had a heavy coat of fur, after all.

  “We would prefer the innermost worlds,” I said.

  “Done and done! Our arks will not return to those places, and our people will egress only upon the cooler planets. They will walk under alien clouds and graze until their bellies sag. They will-”

  The Centaurs went on for some time in this fashion, talking about rivers and lakes and crags of uniquely-shaped stone. I let them talk this time, without cutting them off. I let them talk and talk until they felt thoroughly finished with the conversation. Perhaps from their point of view, it was the politest discussion they’d ever had with me. I figured they’d more than earned it.