A Learning Experience 2: Hard Lessons (38 page)

“So I have heard,” Kevin said, carefully.  It was never a wise idea to let one side think they knew more than you, even if they did.  “I assume there is a reason for this meeting?”

“We wish to discuss cooperation,” the Varnar stated.  “One of us has attempted to reach your people, but may not have succeeded.  If he has been killed, your people will not have heard the message.”

Kevin frowned.  The messenger must have been with the Tokomak fleet, he realised slowly, or he could have just parked his ship on the edge of the Sol System and tried to raise the Solar Union.  He wouldn’t have been greeted with a hail of fire if he hadn't posed an immediate and obvious threat.  Shooting first and asking questions later was rarely a good idea in interstellar relationships.

“I have not heard anything from my superiors,” he said, smoothly.  Given the time between the return of the fleet and the meeting, they wouldn't expect anything more.  Human starships weren't significantly faster in FTL than Galactic ships.  “However, I believe they would seek your cooperation, if you were prepared to offer it.”

Sally prompted him helpfully as he negotiated quickly and efficiently.  The Varnar didn't bargain, not as humans did; they rarely demanded much in the expectation of having to settle for little.  They seemed happy to accept the end of the war, on terms.  It was better, he hoped, then continuing the Proxy War indefinitely.  If nothing else, the Coalition didn't need the Tokomak supplying the Varnar with warships and weapons until the sheer mass of supplies burned the Coalition beyond hope of recovery.

“Very well,” the Varnar said, finally.  The voice was largely toneless, but Kevin thought he detected a hint of anticipation in the alien’s words.  “When the time comes, we will switch sides.”

With that, the meeting came to an end.

Once the Varnar were gone, Kevin allowed Sally to take him back to the apartment, but encoded a message for the team before he did anything else.  There would be an opportunity to slip a message back to Earth soon enough, he knew, and then Earth would know what was brewing on Varnar.  They could take advantage of it ...

... And put an end to the war before it was too late.

***

The Varnar were up to something.  Neola was sure of it.  Oh, they said all the right things and mouthed all the right platitudes, as if nothing was wrong with the universe, but they were up to something.  Perhaps it was just paranoid, but after everything that had happened, she felt as though she had a right to be paranoid.  But then, so did they.

Her terminal chimed.  “Your Excellency,” Captain Drew said, “the reinforcements have arrived.”

Neola sent a silent command to the display, activating the holographic display.  The gravity point was invisible to the naked eye, of course, but the stream of battleships materialising from a star system five hundred light years away were not.  One hundred battleships, reinforcements she had demanded as soon as she’d realised the situation wasn't anything like she’d been told, ready to deal out death to the enemies of the empire.

They wouldn't be properly maintained, of course, she knew.  But they wouldn't actually have to leave Varnar for weeks, if not months.  By then, she would have the crews knocked into shape, with threats, rewards and the certain knowledge that failing to tend to their jobs – their proper jobs – would result in another disaster.

“Order the fleet to rendezvous with us,” she said.  “I will host the commanding officers in the lounge, once they have read the new standing orders.  Tell them ... tell them that they can make all the complaints they want and send them all the way to the homeworld if they wish, but they will carry out the standing orders.  Anyone who balks will be executed.”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” Captain Drew said.  If he doubted her words – or the wisdom of making enemies of so many officers – he allowed no trace of it in his voice.  “It will be done.”

They’d hate her, of course, Neola knew.  For thousands of years, all the Navy had known was ceremonial formations and displays, each one perfectly calculated to show the grandeur and unstoppable might of the Tokomak.  The commanding officers had lavished their wealth in ensuring that their ships showed off
their
power and resourcefulness.  They had never really considered that they might have to fight.  The thought of being told to ditch everything that had won them their spurs ...

They’d be horrified.  She had no doubt they would complain, long and loud, to their superiors – and demand her immediate relief from command.  But they would do as they were told or they would die, either at her hands, if she dragged up very old regulations, or at the hands of the human race ...

She allowed herself to smile, coldly, for the first time since she’d fled Earth.  The humans thought they’d won.  They thought there was nothing left to do, but mop up the remains of her fleet and the Varnar.  But they were wrong.

It wasn't over yet.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The New Mexico State Government convened today to discuss the prospect of separating ties from the United States and declaring itself either part of Mexico or the independent state of Aztecan.   In a statement issued yesterday, the Mexican Government declared that it would be happy to accept the return of territory stolen by the Gringos in the Mexican-American War.  The White House has refused to comment, but given the demographics of the Southern United States, New Mexico may be merely the first state to go.

-Solar News Network, Year 53

“We have returned to normal space, sir,” Yolanda said.  “I am picking up IFF signs from human and Coalition warships.”

“Good,” Captain Singh said.  “Transmit our IFF to them, then hold us steady.”

“Yes, sir,” Yolanda said. 

She frowned as she did as she was told.  The RV point was only five light years from Varnar, theoretically out of sensor range.  She’d wondered why the higher-ups hadn't decided to assemble the fleet elsewhere, but she didn't know who she could ask.  The orders had been passed down from Admiral Stuart himself, right from the very top.  No doubt he had his reasons.

The fleet was huge, larger than she’d expected.  Two hundred human warships, mostly converted Galactic starships, were aligned with over a thousand Coalition warships, many of them larger than anything under human command.  She honestly didn't understand why the Coalition needed human help at all, until she remembered that the Varnar deployed much the same number of starships.  The Proxy War had been balanced so perfectly that it could have gone on for centuries without either side gaining a decisive advantage. 

And none of the battleships she saw through
Freedom’s
sensors were anything like as large as the Tokomak ships.  The Tokomak, it seemed, had mistaken size for power and forbidden anyone to build their own five kilometre-long starships.  It wouldn't have been a bad gambit, she told herself, if weapons and training had remained static.  But the Coalition had far more experience than the Tokomak, as well as human ingenuity.  Given a few more years, those colossal battleships might be smashed as easily as clay targets on the shooting range.

“We’re picking up orders from the flag,” Commander Gregory said.  “The fleet is to enter FTL in ten minutes.  Destination; Varnar.”

Yolanda sucked in her breath, feeling tension rising on the bridge.  Varnar wouldn't just make or break the war, it would either ensure the victory of the Coalition or the ultimate success of the Tokomak.  It was a gamble, all the more so as no one knew if the Tokomak had reinforcements on the way, but one that had to be taken.  The Tokomak couldn’t be allowed to fall back and prepare for a long war.  Given the sheer preponderance of firepower on their side, it might well prove disastrous.

“Course laid in, sir,” she said.  “They’ll see us coming.”

“Unfortunately,” Commander Gregory said, dryly.  Her voice became contemplative.  “The designated endpoint is surprisingly close to the gravity point.”

“They probably want to bar the Tokomak from calling for help,” Captain Singh speculated, cheerfully.  “Commander.  Is my ship ready for combat?”

“Yes, sir,” Commander Gregory said.  “Your ship is fully ready for command.”

Yolanda smiled.  The flight time between Earth and Varnar hadn't been wasted.  Every last millimetre of the ship had been checked and rechecked for damage, then the crew had trained constantly until they could practically fight the battle in their sleep.  The Tokomak might have realised the importance of training and experience after their catastrophic defeat, but they didn't have time to match the human ships.  Or, for that matter, the Coalition.

But they might let the Varnar take the lead
, she thought. 
And that would be dangerous for us
.

“Signal from the flag,” Commander Gregory said.  “It’s time to go.”

“Take us into FTL,” Captain Singh ordered.

“Aye, sir,” Yolanda said. 
Freedom
shivered slightly as she slipped into FTL, her drives compensating effortlessly for the presence of so many other starships nearby.  “We’re on the way.”

***

“Your Excellency,” the sensor officer reported.  “We have picked up incoming signatures.”

Neola leaned forward as brilliant red icons appeared on the display, advancing remorselessly towards Varnar.  They were flying in close formation, making it impossible for her sensors to pick out individual starships, but there were definitely over a thousand warships inbound on her position.  There was no way to determine the owners, not directly, yet she knew they had to include Coalition warships.  If the humans had enjoyed so many ships, her force would have been utterly wiped out before it reached Earth.

“Bring the fleet to alert, then move our formations forward,” she ordered.  The Varnar might have more experience, but they didn't have something to prove.  Besides, they could guard their homeworld, while
she
needed to guard the gravity point.  “And inform the commanding officers that I expect them to do as they’re told, rather than arguing over The Book.”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” Captain Drew said.

Neola smiled, rather coldly.  Her staff had intercepted messages from her subordinate officers to her superiors, each one demanding her immediate removal from command.  The reasons were many and varied, but they all boiled down to one simple fact.  She just wasn't acting as a Tokomak should.  Even after viewing the records of the battle, half of them still thought she was exaggerating the danger posed by the human race.  Didn’t they realise that a far larger force had been smashed midway to Earth?

But they see that as part of a trick
, she thought.  The gravity field that had yanked her ships out of FTL had been a nasty surprise, but it had inflicted a considerable amount of damage as well.  Her subordinates wanted to believe that it had merely been a trick, because it was easier to accept a trick than the humans having any sort of qualitative advantage. 
And so they are still inclined to dismiss the humans
.

Idly, she speculated on where the humans would choose to emerge.  She’d tried discussing the concept of building her own gravity net with the Varnar, but they’d seemed adamant it would take at least ten years to build a similar device.  By then, no doubt the humans would have thought of something new.  She shook her head, then tapped the display with one long finger.  Her subordinates might have opposed her in writing, but they weren't trying to defy her in the middle of a battle.  Their formations were moving forward with commendable speed.

She turned her attention back to the main display as the human ships entered the system and advanced, still in FTL, towards the gravity point.  It made sense, she told herself, even though the humans didn't realise just how strongly she’d been reinforced.  Cut the Varnar off from the Tokomak ... the Varnar would either have to retake the gravity point, whatever the cost, or accept eventual defeat.  They wouldn't even be able to uncover their homeworld at all, not even to prevent the loss of other worlds ...

“The human fleet is dropping out of FTL,” the sensor officer stated.  There was a long pause as the display started to update.  “They’re using some form of jamming, Your Excellency.  It’s hard to pick out individual ships.”

Neola cursed.  Trust the humans to come up with something new.  The display was fuzzy, as though the sensor probes were reporting nothing, but gibberish.  At one point, there seemed to be a million starships facing them; at another, less than a hundred.  It would be hard – impossibly hard – to use any long-range missiles on the human fleet.  But it would have been pointless anyway.  This time, there was no gravity net.

“Prepare to engage,” she ordered.  The humans were still diving towards the gravity point, but her advance formations would get there first.  And then the humans would have to come to them.  “And order the Varnar to cover our backs.”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” Captain Drew said.

Neola forced herself to relax as the two fleets converged, sheer power allowing her sensors to burn through some of the layers of jamming.  She’d been right, she noted; the Coalition had provided many of the warships facing her now.  They didn't seem to have quite the flexibility of the cruisers the humans had built for themselves, but they did have more training and actual experience than any of her officers.  And they were clearly prepared to make a stand against the Tokomak.  They would die, of course, along with anyone else who dared question Tokomak power, but it was still disappointing.

“Raise them,” she ordered.  “Inform them that we will accept surrender.”

There was a long pause.  “No response, Your Excellency,” the communications officer said.  “They didn't even send an acknowledgement.”

“Noted,” Neola said.  “Prepare to engage.”

***

Mongo scowled as he saw the Tokomak fleet – bare and exposed before his sensors – and cursed under his breath.  He had never assumed that the Tokomak wouldn't get reinforcements, but he hadn't expected another hundred battleships and assorted escort vessels.  It said unpleasant things about the Tokomak ability to mobilise their fleet rapidly, if necessary.  A cursory glance at the sensor console told him that the Tokomak had even managed to improve their training procedures.  Much of their equipment was primitive, by Coalition standards, but they were using it very well.

And just because someone is using primitive technolog
y, he reminded himself,
doesn't make him either stupid or useless
.

Their formation was better too, he noted; they’d spread their ships out enough to allow them to fire freely, without limiting their ability to cover each other if necessary.  It was still a crude formation, but better than their previous work.  And, if their technology had been better, it would have made their victory certain.  As long as they held the gravity point, they could keep feeding new starships into the sector and eventually bury everyone – even the Varnar – under the sheer weight of reinforcements.

“Inform all starships,” he ordered.  “They are to fire at will.  I say again, fire at will.”

***

Yolanda braced herself, then plunged her mind back into the computer network as the two fleets converged with terrifying speed.  The Tokomak opened fire as soon as the humans came into range, scattering their fire madly through space; the Coalition, more disciplined, held their fire until they came into effective range, then opened fire themselves.  And then the two fleets were joined ... Yolanda hung on for dear life as she flipped the starship through a maze of evasive manoeuvres while Commander Gregory bombarded the Tokomak battleships with her weapons.  One Tokomak battleship exploded in front of her, forcing her into another series of evasive patterns before a piece of debris struck them; moments later, she fell into formation with two other cruisers and raged towards a second battleship.

“Break left and right,” she ordered, as the enemy ship fired towards them.  There were just too many targets for the enemy to cope with; they tried to split their fire, too late.  Human torpedoes slammed home, blowing the enemy ship into another ball of expanding plasma.  “And then follow me.”

She flew between two enemy battleships, then spun on a dime and raced back towards the closest ship, daring it to fire on her. 
Freedom
shuddered as the enemy scored a direct hit, then Commander Gregory slammed four torpedoes into the enemy’s hull.  No one was trying to conserve torpedoes now.  Moments later, it too was gone.  Yolanda spared a thought for the ship’s crew, dead before they had a chance to reach the lifepods, and then turned her attention back to the battle. 

It was even, much more even than she’d dared fear.  The Tokomak had taken losses, but they were inflicting them too.  A number of Coalition and human ships had died, weakening their respective forces far more than the losses they’d inflicted on their enemies.  It didn't seem fair, part of her mind whined as she evaded another burst of enemy fire; they could obliterate this enemy force, or one far larger, and
still
lose the war.  But they couldn't avoid fighting either ...

A missile cruiser – an adapted Galactic freighter – moved past her, spitting out missiles towards the Tokomak formation.  They posed no threat to the enemy, Yolanda knew, but they would give her some cover.  She flipped
Freedom
around, then followed the missiles as they lunged towards the Tokomak ship.  By the time the missiles were all picked off,
Freedom
was in attack position and firing savagely.  The Tokomak ship flipped out of formation, then lost power.  Commander Gregory teleported a nuke into its suddenly-unsecure interior; Yolanda watched, as dispassionately as she could, as the ship exploded into a gout of fire.