“One ship,” she clarifies with even disdain. “One of those ridiculous inflatable pirate ships. Enough to deliver their ‘message’ and then run away like cowards when we did not simply surrender. Their master—the Shadow—did not even have the character to come to the fight himself. Janeway spoke for him. We would have burned him out of the sky, but he ran away as soon as we got our fighters airborne, and let his master’s Discs do his killing for him. Only after we finished them did he send his flyers, and those only to cover his retreat.”
This matches what the ETE describe they responded to too late: Barely seventy-two hours after our battle, Orange and Gold stations detected explosions at Shinkyo. Wary of another shinobi ploy, they approached cautiously, only to arrive to the devastation I’m now seeing, a few surviving Shinkyo fighters limping after a retreating Zodangan frigate. The Guardians chose to help the wounded rather than pursue the attackers, probably further endearing them to the Shinkyo. The frigate disappeared into a dust blow, and the pursuing fighters did not return.
“We did monitor the records you sent into space,” she focuses. “Your meeting with the Shadow, and your impressive routing of his forces. This Chang-thing promised he would wipe nanotechnology off this planet—except his own, of course. Our own ultimatum was certainly expected, though he chose to insult us by sending a lackey and a cowardly drone attack.”
She doesn’t mention her own losses. I wonder if Janeway believed he was attacking the power-base of the Shinkyo and not just bombarding their vulnerable civilian population. Or maybe he knew exactly what he was doing, sending Chang’s message. Or maybe he was sending his own, given the possibility that Chang is either dead or slowly regenerating himself. Janeway may well have declared himself commander in Chang’s absence. I wonder again what became of Captain Bly.
I reach into my jacket and hand her a flashcard. One of her shinobi steps up and takes it from me, examining it before he gives it to her. She brings up images of the ships that attacked us, focusing on our analyses of Chang’s main ship.
“The fans and jets are actually secondary,” I explain. “There’s some kind of magnetic resistance that keeps the thing up off the iron-rich surface. It also helps jam our communications, might even fry anything electronic that got underneath it. Thankfully our long-lost brethren managed to detect the output from where they were and figure out where to hit it,” I give her what Sutter told me (and I find I do believe him, despite the pervasive lack of trust on this planet).
“We did not face anything like this,” she admits thoughtfully. “Only one sail-airship, four Discs, and twelve of what you are calling ‘Kites’.”
“Maybe he did only have the one built,” I hope.
“He claimed he was in the process of building more. It would be very satisfying to prevent him,” she lets me know she’s still monitoring our transmissions home.
“Would you like your own modicum of revenge?” I play.
“’The enemy of my enemy’ and all that,” she discounts. “That is why you have come here. I could be so vulgar as to accuse your ETE friends of allowing this attack upon us in order to force us into an alliance.”
“The ETE feel responsible for not protecting you, for not keeping a closer presence,” I try.
“Of course they do. Pathetic… We are not their children any more than we are their prisoners. And we choose our own path. What about you, Colonel Ram? Are you here because you believe we should stand together, or because your Earthside Command agrees we are ‘on-planet assets’?”
“You had offered yourselves as such,” I remind her of other transmissions. “But I’m here because you reached out to me once.”
“Your ‘hope’ again. But the issue of the ETE still stands between us.”
“Even in light of this new threat?”
“Your incoming shipments will be insufficient to resupply your own base against another such attack,” she cuts to it. “What will there be for us after we expend our resources coming to your aid? We can protect our own. Dig in. Hide—something you cannot adequately do.”
“Janeway was just sending a message and running,” I return. “Chang himself will be more persistent and devastating.”
“What can you do for us when even the mighty ETE fail?”
“Combine our forces. Chang is no tactician. He does not adapt well to the unexpected.”
“Then we should strike him now,” she challenges. “Destroy his factories before he can build any more ships.”
“I agree.”
“But they have ordered you to hold position, to maintain a defensive posture,” she confirms she’s been able to listen in on even our newly encrypted transmissions, “to wait for relief that you know will be both too little and too late.”
“Our base will fall if we have to endure another such attack. That is no secret.” I grin at her conspiratorially. “My orders do not prohibit small reconnaissance missions, especially if I don’t divert significant defensive resources from my bases.”
I think I see her smile under her mask.
“You no longer have significant defensive resources,” she translates my meaning. “You know your only option is to run an offensive guerrilla war. You must strike the enemy before they can field another fleet against you.”
You give her a polite nod. She digests the possibilities like a statue in the wind.
“You lack stealth and speed,” she finally concludes. “Your soldiers are not shinobi.”
“I’m offering you a joint operation.”
“You want us to penetrate the Zodangan fortress for you.”
“We estimate their defenses and sentries, but can’t pinpoint them. We have a potential insertion vector. But I’d like your shinobi to take point, scout the sites, help clear our way in.”
“And what will you do, while we do all the work?”
“Perhaps I should be speaking with your brother,” I suggest dully.
“My brother is less tolerant of Gaijin.”
“Your brother is wise not to expose himself,” I give. “But a good Daimyo utilized both Bushi and Shinobi in warfare. Both tools have their functions: Shinobi to gather intelligence and weaken the enemy, Bushi to crush him.”
“You would not need us if you had your orbital resources,” she points out.
“We could scan and bomb their facilities from orbit. And Chang may take so long to recover that we get the opportunity, but I doubt it. He knows he must establish dominance over this planet before UNMAC can. If he can, he’ll strike again before we get re-supplied in January. Certainly before real relief comes in June.”
“So you reach out to us in your hour of need?” she muses.
“And yours,” I reverse it. “If we fall, Chang will focus on eliminating you next: Corporate Earth’s only other foothold, and easier to deal with than the ETE.”
“And how will he deal with the ETE?”
“I suspect he’ll take advantage of their non-martial nature,” I let her know what I’ve been thinking. “I’m sure he has his plans developing. Or science. And if Chang can build weapons that are effective against the ETE, I don’t want him to have the chance to.”
She lets that stew in the wind for a few moments. Then:
“How do you know we won’t simply take the opportunity to betray you? To steal his supposed future-science—his weapons—for ourselves?”
“I expect you’ll try. Please do. My own leaders will certainly want me to do the same. And I expect both of us will have as much success with that as you did trying to steal ETE technology. If his assets could be taken, then the pirates and the PK would have already done so for themselves, especially if Chang himself is incapacitated.”
But I notice she freezes when I mention stealing from the ETE—not her usual stoic performance—just for an instant. I feel her withdraw inside herself. She is hiding something, or keeping something in reserve. I let it go for now.
“I will relay your offer to my lord,” she agrees formally.
>
“Thank you for hearing me, great lady.”
The ETE ship comes back and drops lazily after Sakura and her entourage have made their usually-impressive exit, disappearing into the open terrain.
“There is still no reason to trust them,” Paul feels he has to remind me once we’re inside and cruising away home on their mostly silent “engines”. The bay of their transport is like a clean room, all bright white and sterile. Even their atmosphere fields strip the Martian dust from us as we step through the airlocks.
“I need to give them the choice,” I tell him again. “The enemy of my enemy and all that…”
“They will use us to attempt to steal Chang’s technology at first opportunity,” Sutter agrees with Paul. Sakina nods her own agreement when I look to her.
“Probably turning on us in the field to do so,” I let them know I’m taking the probability seriously. “Still…”
“Knowing what they’ll likely do, we could take steps to anticipate, even exploit their behavior,” Sutter turns it, supports my decision.
“Can Chang’s magnetic drives interfere with your technology?” I ask Paul, now that he’s away from the eyes and ears of his Station.
“We are personally hardened against EMR,” he explains, though doesn’t sound confident. “But he could jam our connections to our tools and our fellows.”
“We could give you guns, swords,” Sutter offers innocently. Paul is impressively polite.
“It’s not our way,” he simply answers.
Not yet, I think but don’t say out loud. I think I see a similar thought in Sakina’s eyes. Even she is more and more tempted to carry a gun.
“Could you use another ship?” I offer what I expect I’ll get myself in more trouble for. Paul looks at me like I’ve offered something I can’t possibly give, like I’m joking. Thomas looks confused.
“Are you serious?” Paul needs clarification.
“Call it a fair exchange for giving us a lift to Zodanga. It’s a bit of a fixer-upper, but I’m sure your people can do something with it.”
“One of your broken ASVs?” he guesses.
“I’m still banned from giving you UNMAC military assets, even scrap,” I remind him. He still doesn’t look like he’s following, so I let him have it easy: “The Lancer.”
“And your command will allow that?” he questions the obvious.
“It’s not really ours,” I excuse, another rehearsal of what I’ll eventually have to tell Earthside. “And we can’t remotely make any use of it anymore. And we’ve sent full scans of it back to Earthside, so it’s not like they need it for any kind of investigation. As far as they’ve let on, they’re not even interested in it. And if we strip its guns before we turn it over, I’m not giving you military assistance.”
What I don’t say is that I expect Earthside will be more bent that I gave the useless hulk to the ETE than that I gave it away. But I also consider that some back on Earth might appreciate the Lancer going away, taking potentially incriminating evidence with it.
“Fair exchange for a lift?” Paul reflects, then confronts. “You didn’t think we’d let you go to Zodanga alone?”
“I assumed you’d been making your own plans.”
“We had intended to deal with Chang ourselves, excluding you for your own safety. Our Council was reluctant to attempt to approach the Zodangan stronghold directly. It is too well defended, and that’s just what we’ve been able to scan along the Northeast Rim. There would be extreme violence, loss of life we could not avoid, and we have no idea where their manufacturing facilities are.”
“We think we’ve identified the most likely location to start looking,” I give him what I’ve made sure not to broadcast on even the most secure channels. “And the most viable approach plan to minimize resistance.”
“Fair exchange for the lift?” he repeats.
“And you help us reduce loss of life,” I add to the offer.
“You’re intending not to have to kill pirates?” Paul barely believes. Sutter looks even more surprised.
“My mission is to cripple or destroy Chang’s manufacturing base,” I clarify. “The Zodangans are pawns, expendable, whether they’ve figured it out or not.”
“We could simply run the mission ourselves,” Paul makes the obvious counter. “It’s not that my teams wouldn’t appreciate your council in combat, but you and yours would be vulnerable where we are not. More so if you attempt to engage the enemy directly.”
“My concern is Earthside,” I tell him what I’ve been mulling.
“They won’t trust us to deal with Chang,” Paul says it before I can.
“Even after your brother’s sacrifice,” I say it before he can.
But then I see him smile. It’s an uncharacteristic, almost wicked smile.
“You haven’t told your command what you’re planning,” he realizes.
“We need to maintain communications silence,” I give yet another planned excuse. “Chang or his allies are likely able to hack our transmissions.”
“Yet you include the Shinkyo,” he criticizes lightly after a pause to digest.
“They would be best able to locate hidden sentries and avoid them,” I try, “find the best ways to penetrate the facilities undetected.”
“And so much for avoiding loss of life,” Paul counters.
“Set whatever rules of engagement you like,” I give.
“Assuming they’d honor any,” he discards.
“Worse if we didn’t use them,” I argue. “Neither of us could as effectively get in without alerting the Zodangans, bringing their forces down on us. They’re the best choice to take point—the pirates are expecting us.”
“They are almost guaranteed to betray you. Your Knight-friend is correct: Once we help them get themselves in, they steal what they want, and then either turn on us or alert the Zodangans to our presence, slip away while we’re under fire.”
“You’ve been paying attention to your lessons,” I praise him.
“It’s not an idle study,” he lets me know. He is becoming a soldier, and not as reluctantly as he likely expected.
“Hopefully they’ll value what they can gain by alliance more than what they can gain by betrayal,” Sutter does his own hopeful moralizing.
“I have to give them the opportunity to prove themselves either way,” I cut to it.
“Sadly, treachery will be the more convincing demonstration,” Paul realizes.
Chapter 5: Brimstone
19 November, 2116:
Our odd fellowship takes flight before sunrise.
One thing I regret about leaving in darkness is that I don’t get to properly appreciate the ETE’s handwork. They brought the newly restored and refitted Lancer in the dead cold of night, and we didn’t even risk lighting it up with spotlights as it settled silently onto Pad 5.
From what I could see from the Command Tower, and then as we crossed the pad from the personnel elevator to the underbelly airlock, it is not the same ship. The original black finish is now shiny metallic. The wings are mostly gone, trimmed to vestigial stumps. And the nose terminates in a transparent bubble, like an old WWII bomber, several meters now trimmed from its length. Similar viewing bubbles sprout on either side of what’s still the cockpit. The lift engines, of course, have been replaced with the featureless smooth spheres common to the other ETE retrofits. And where Morales pulled the gun turrets I see more sphere-like protrusions—I wonder if they function as shields or weapons or both.
“One ship,” I told Paul when he offered more. “We need to get in with minimal attention. If we can’t do what we need to with a quick small insert, your people can come back in force, do it your way.” Something I hope doesn’t need to happen for several reasons.
In the below-freezing darkness, I walk from the personnel elevator to greet our “escorts”. The ETE are already standing in a loose but disciplined parade line in front of their new ship, looking entirely like the cold isn’t noticeable. But then,
I notice the thin air does get significantly warmer as I approach. I also realize that the six sealsuits lined up at-ease on the pad are different colors: It looks like Paul has brought a representative from each of the six Melas Stations: Blue (which I figure is him), Violet, Red, Orange, Gold, and Green.
(“What? No Pink Power Ranger?” I hear Matthew’s voice in my head, and I smile briefly under my own mask.)
“You got her flying again, I see,” I open lightly.
“Hopefully more than that,” Paul confirms it is him inside the blue suit. “But she still needs work.”
“And your Council?”
“Not enthusiastic that I agreed to bring vulnerable bodies along, but they understand our difficult position with Earthside.” I appreciate his using the inclusive “our”.
I signal for those vulnerable bodies to advance:
Rios has handpicked a squad of H-A troopers, with Horst in command, to handle any ground operations once the ETE get us to where we hope we’ll find the Zodangan airship factories. To the ETE’s visible discomfort (no small effect since their masks remain sealed), our soldiers are also packing a significant quantity of demolitions along with heavy chain guns, big-bore sniper rifles and launchers.
But then, I notice each member of Paul’s team has one gun-modified “Rod” in their tool belt.
Horst leads his team to the open lower forward airlock, and orders them to load in quick and smooth.
“Call it symbolic,” I try to ease the tension I feel coming off the ETE. “If it’s simply a matter of wrecking some select equipment, destroying facilities after they’re cleared… Better for Earthside if we can say it was us that did the deed and not you.” I realize Paul likely gave his father a very similar argument. The ETE don’t resist our loading their ship with guns and bombs, at least not physically.
“So we handle any real threat, then let you blow up a few things to make your masters feel better about the arrangement,” translates a voice I recognize as Jonah Carter, apparently the representative “Red Team” Guardian. He keeps his tone remarkably level, so I can’t tell how much is snide and how much is simple clarification.
The God Mars Book Two: Lost Worlds Page 28