A Learning Experience 2: Hard Lessons (36 page)

“Aye, sir,” Commander Gregory said. 

***

“The human fleet has arrived,” the Admiral said.

Neola looked at the display, then bit down a vile word.  The human fleet had been much reduced by the battle – she hadn't left them completely unscathed, then – but there were enough survivors to obliterate her remaining ships.  And only a handful of her vessels could even hope to escape, if they fled back into FTL.  Several of the survivors needed urgent repairs before they dared enter FTL ...

But it didn't matter.  Earth was at their mercy.  And she dared show none.

“Prepare to fire,” she ordered.  She’d held fire long enough to ensure the human defences, if there were any, would be unable to stop
all
of her missiles.  Now, there was no longer any point in further delay.  “Fire ...”

An explosion cut off her words.

***

The Tokomak seemed to consider themselves aristocrats, Martin had noted, as they fought their way through the ship, but their officers were clearly considered royalty.  Their quarters were staggeringly luxurious by their own standards, completely decadent by human standards; the Marines had even encountered a handful of enemy officers who were clearly skiving off the battle, even though human soldiers were rampaging through their ships.  If they’d been trained by Marine Corps Drill Instructors ... he bit off the happy thought about what would happen to anyone who turned up to Roll Call drunk as a lord, then followed the point men into the next section.

“Push through,” he snapped, as the Tokomak rallied.  They seemed to be using all kinds of furniture to make barricades, something that made him smile.  It was odd to think he had anything in common with the Tokomak, but if
he’d
had to work for officers who surrounded themselves with so much luxury, he would have been glad of the opportunity to smash their expensive furniture too.  “Don’t give them a moment to recover.”

There was a deafening series of explosions, then the resistance slackened suddenly.  This time, the enemy had nowhere to run.  The Marines advanced rapidly, throwing their remaining grenades ahead of them to clear the way, then finally reached the hatch leading into the command core.  It was gaudy, decorated with what looked like a coat of arms covered with an entire page of strange alien writing, but it was unmistakable.  And large enough to allow the Marines to walk through, two abreast.  It was clear, Martin noted as the Marines fixed charges to the hatch, that the designers had never anticipated anyone actually boarding and storming one of their battleships.

“Now,” he ordered.

The charges detonated.  Martin watched as the hatch fell inwards, pieces of debris falling into the massive compartment, then followed the point men into the command core.  It was far larger than he’d expected, crammed with Tokomak and holographic displays – and was that a Varnar in the corner, standing there like a naughty child?  The Tokomak looked shocked, utterly shocked, to see the humans.  Hadn't they
known
their craft was being boarded?

“Stand away from the consoles,” Martin ordered, in Galactic Standard.  It was unlikely that any of the Tokomak had bothered to learn English, or any other language.  They might not even have loaded translation modules into their implants.  “Do not attempt to draw a weapon or do anything to resist.”

The Tokomak obeyed, one by one.  It was hard to tell which of them was in charge – they all wore gaudy uniforms, covered in yellow and black stripes that indicated high rank – but they obeyed.  His implants informed him, helpfully, that a third of the Tokomak were female, although it was hard to see how anyone could tell the difference.  They all looked alike to him. 

“Good,” he said.  “Which one of you is in command?”

***

Neola watched the humans, too tired to be shocked that they had forced their way into the command core.  It was ... it was blasphemy.  The only aliens allowed in the command core were subject races, people who knew where they stood.  But the humans had forced their way onto the ship ...

Her mind raced, accessing her implants and issuing a final set of orders, as she rose to her feet and faced the humans.  It was impossible to see their faces, hidden in their crude suits, but she imagined them cowering before her might.  The Tokomak might have been embarrassed by the battle – and it would be years before the repercussions died away – yet they were still the Tokomak, still the founders of the largest interstellar empire known to exist.  And what were the upstart humans to them?

“I am,” she said.

The teleport field claimed her a moment later.  She allowed herself a smile as the command core dissolved into light, leaving the humans behind ...

***

Martin swore as the Tokomak teleported out.  Her command crew stared, some shocked, some fearful, as he took a step forward, then stopped himself.  The teleport had taken the one person he’d wanted to capture and sent her ... where?

“Extend the jamming field,” he ordered, angrily.  He’d be in deep shit for not anticipating the possibility.  “And then secure the ship and prisoners.”

The Tokomak offered no resistance as they were searched, bound and placed by the side of the compartment as the humans hacked into the command network.  Inside the command core, it was easy to gain access and take control of the ship, then signal to the human fleet.  A prize crew was already on the way.

He scowled as he saw the Varnar.  The images he’d seen in the simulations had given him the creeps ... and, in person, they were much worse.  They resembled the little grey aliens of humanity’s nightmares ... and, given that they were the first to use humans as unwilling soldiers, it was generally believed that was no coincidence. 

“I believe we should talk,” the Varnar said.  “I have much to tell you.”

“My superiors will want to see you,” Martin replied.  “Until then, behave.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Riots swept the globe today after it was disclosed that an alien power had attempted to attack and destroy Earth.  Solar Union facilities came under attack from rioting crowds; thankfully, the guards were on the alert and managed to repel the attackers with minimum losses.  Other local governments were also targeted, raising the threat of election defeats or outright civil war.

-Solar News Network, Year 53

“So they managed to get a handful of ships out of the system?”

“Yes, sir,” Yolanda said.  “They managed to escape into FTL.”

She looked down at her console, watching as shuttlecraft approached the stricken Tokomak ships.  Their desperate rush at Earth had been averted, barely.  The updates from the Marines stated that they had come within seconds of launching missiles at Earth.  If there had been a delay ...

Her thoughts mocked her.  She’d often wished her stepmother and stepsiblings dead, but the thought of them actually dying ... it was horrific.  And the rest of the human population ... there were nine billion people on Earth, according to the official estimate.  The thought of the entire population dying was completely unimaginable.  It was a number so high as to be completely beyond comprehension.  She could barely grasp the names and faces of the crew of her ship, let alone the enormity of Earth’s population.  And yet they would all have died.

And Martin may have died
, she thought.  It was clear the Marines had taken staggering casualties before the Tokomak lost control of their ships. 
What if he’s gone too
?

“Track them as long as you can,” Captain Singh ordered.  “They may be trying to sneak back through the edge of the Sol System.”

Yolanda doubted the Tokomak would think of it – without FTL, it would take months, if not years, to sneak back into attack range – but she did as she was told, using the order as a distraction from her churning thoughts.  A request popped up in her display and she looked at it, then forwarded it to Commander Gregory.  Fleet Command wanted a complete download from every starship in the fleet before they started to repair and rearm their ships.

“Take us to the shipyard,” Captain Singh ordered.  “Best possible speed.”

“Aye, sir,” Yolanda said.

She plunged her mind back into the command network and swung the starship around.  There was so much debris in the vicinity, perhaps from Tokomak starships that had shattered when they’d crashed back into normal space, that she wanted to put a considerable distance between the ship and the debris before she risked taking
Freedom
into FTL.  Behind her, she was suddenly aware of Captain Singh walking across the bridge and staring up at the main display.

“There’s nothing more melancholy than a battle lost,” the Captain said to himself, “except a battle won.”

“That isn't the right quote,” Commander Gregory pointed out.  “And we did win.  Think how
they
must be feeling!”

Yolanda concealed her mixture of amusement and horror with an effort. 
She
would never have dared to correct the Captain, certainly not so lightly.  But she also understood the Captain’s thought.  The battle was over, the crews of the surrendered ships were being moved to POW camps ... and the Solar Union had to clear up the mess.

But we still won
, she told herself, firmly. 
We won
!”

***

It was lucky, Martin reflected, that the Tokomak were so stunned by their defeat.  Otherwise, they could have caused real trouble.  There were over five thousand Tokomak to a battleship, most of whom had survived the battle, the invasion or simple systems failures caused by the unexpected war.  If they had managed to get organised, they might have tried something that would have gotten most of them killed.  Instead, they just walked into the shuttlecraft for the first leg of their journey to the POW camps, without a single complaint.

“Corporal Douglas,” a voice said.  “This is Greeley.  Do you have the Varnar prisoner secure?”

“Yes, sir,” Martin said, nervously.  Major-General Greeley was the CO of the 4
th
Marine Division, several dozen steps up the hierarchy from Martin and his comrades.  Martin had only met him once, back when he’d graduated from Boot Camp.  “We separated him from the Tokomak and placed him in a private compartment, under guard.”

“Good work,” Greeley said.  “There's a shuttle on the way from the spooks.  When it arrives, you are to transfer your prisoner to the shuttle, then accompany him.  I want you escorted by at least four other Marines from your platoon.”

“Yes, sir,” Martin said. 

He frowned, biting down a yawn.  The instructions puzzled him.  He was tired and sweaty and wanted nothing more than bed, but he wasn’t tired enough to let an unarmed alien prisoner get the better of him.  But maybe no one was meant to know they’d taken a Varnar POW.  There had been few prisoners in the Proxy War and most of them had been traded back, after a few months in Coalition POW camps.  A new prisoner might raise the prospect of learning something new, instead of merely being returned to his people after a short delay ...

Or maybe it was the fact he was on a Tokomak ship
, Martin thought, as he summoned two additional Marines. 
He must know what they had in mind
.

As soon as the Marines had relieved him, he walked down to the compartment and nodded to the Marine on guard duty.  It was annoying to have to expend three Marines, all of them in powered combat armour, guarding a single prisoner, but his orders had left no room for misinterpretation.  Stepping inside, he saw the other two Marines watching the Varnar, who was standing in the centre of the compartment like a living statue.  Up close, they were
definitely
creepy, he thought.  They made no movement that wasn't planned.  There wasn’t a single involuntary motion in their muscles.

“You will come with us,” Martin said.  He linked into the command network and issued orders, clearing a line from the compartment to the makeshift shuttlebay that would allow them to move the Varnar through the hull without being seen.  “My people wish to speak with you.”

The Varnar moved in quicksilver flashes, jerky motions that nagged at Martin’s mind, as if he was recalling something very old.  Merely watching the alien was disconcerting; he rubbed his rifle, calculating just how quickly the alien could actually move.  Fast enough to be a real problem, he decided, if they were enhanced too.  But a powered combat suit could still rip the alien’s head off before the alien even realised he was under attack.

He motioned for the Varnar to climb into the shuttle, then followed, cursing the obvious lack of any restraints.  Prisoners were meant to be treated gently, but firmly; he would have felt safer if the Varnar was cuffed and shackled.  But there was no equipment to do either ... he forced himself, instead, to keep a sharp eye on the Varnar as the shuttle closed its airlock, then drifted away from the battleship’s hull.  Again, the Varnar sat perfectly still.  There was no hint of unwanted movement in its posture.

A human would be asking questions by now
, Martin calculated.  The dreaded Conduct After Capture course had warned him that some people responded better to captivity than others – and that there was a wide range of precedents for how POWs were treated. 
But the Varnar is saying nothing
.

He used his implants to write a quick message for Yolanda – there was no one else outside the Marines who would give a damn if he lived or died – and then returned his attention to the alien.  The Varnar showed no hint he knew or cared if he was being watched or not; he merely sat there, waiting.  But waiting for what? 

The sooner this duty is over,
Martin thought,
the better
.

***

The security officers had thrown a fit at the mere thought of allowing Mongo to actually meet the Varnar, face-to-face.  After a long argument, they had finally consented to allow Mongo to use a holographic projection to meet with the alien, which would guarantee his safety if the alien turned out to be hostile.  The alien didn't have any weapons or weapons implants, according to the scans, but they’d been fooled before.  Everyone knew the Varnar had a reputation for being sneaky.

He closed his eyes, then opened them as the compartment – not exactly a cell, but locked and isolated from the rest of the compound – shimmered into existence around him.  There were two chairs, including one designed for a child-sized alien, but the Varnar hadn't sat down.  Instead, he was standing beside the desk, looking rather like a junior officer reporting to his senior.  Mongo pushed that impression aside as he walked the projection around the room, then sat down behind the desk.  The Varnar didn't move, merely blinked once. 

Mongo eyed the Varnar with ill-concealed distaste, then used his implants to present a blank, neutral facade to the alien.  It was unlikely the alien could read human emotions, any more than humans could read alien emotions from their expressions and gestures, but there was no point in taking chances.  Besides, the Varnar had been fighting human mercenaries for over fifty years, ever since Kevin had made the first deal with the Coalition.  It was quite possible that they had been making a special study of humans since then.

And they took humans to use as cyborgs
, he reminded himself. 
Is that why you think they may know us better than you want to admit
?

“I am Admiral Stuart,” he said, shortly.  “You stated your wish to see someone high in the human military.  You will not meet anyone higher than myself.”

The Varnar cocked his head, as if it could read the truth of that statement.  There was no
proof
their strange semi-hive mentalities could read human thoughts, but there were no shortage of people who believed it.  Mongo himself rather doubted it.  If the Varnar could read minds, they wouldn't have been fought to a standstill in the Proxy War. 

“I am Admiral He’cht,” the Varnar stated.  “My people would like to ally with yours.”

Mongo had to bite down a laugh.  “You want to
ally
with us?”

“That is correct,” the Varnar said.  “We have a mutual enemy.”

“The Tokomak, I assume,” Mongo said.

“That is correct,” the Varnar repeated.  “We do not enjoy their dominion over us, or their decision to take direct control of this sector for themselves.  And now we know they can be beaten.”

“You could have acted sooner, if you’d wished,” Mongo said.  He understood why the Varnar might have hesitated, if they truly hated the Tokomak as much as their representative implied, yet it smacked of changing sides after the war was already won.  “Instead, you allowed them to attack Earth.”

“One does not
allow
the Tokomak to do anything,” the Varnar stated.  “It was not within our power to stop them.”

“It was,” Mongo said.  “If we fought them to a standstill, Admiral, what could your far greater fleet have done?”

“We did not
know
it was within our power to stop them,” the Varnar said, coolly.  “And we have other issues apart from the masters of the universe.”

He looked up, inky dark eyes boring into Mongo’s face.  “My superiors have empowered me to make an offer to you,” he added.  “We hope you will accept.”

Mongo frowned.  “You
anticipated
being captured?”

“All possibilities must be prepared for,” the Varnar said.  “Even those we deem unlikely.”

“True,” Mongo agreed, keeping his voice flat.  “And you had a contingency plan for being captured.”

He smiled, rather thinly.  The Varnar made even the Solar Union’s logistics officers look sloppy, in the way they prepared everything before launching the operation, right down to the last little detail.  Maybe they’d picked the habit up from the Tokomak, he considered.  Their masters certainly operated along the same lines.

“That is correct,” the alien said.  “We will ally with you.  We will drive the Tokomak though the gravity point and out of the sector.  Absent control over the gravity points, it will take them a considerable number of years to mount a counter-offensive, by which time we will be ready for them.  In exchange for this, we want an end to the Proxy War.  You will convince the Coalition to end the fighting on terms.”