Battle Station (37 page)

I felt the deck shudder and shiver under my armored butt. The ship was firing its guns, both the top and bottom turrets. I took this moment to allow myself a grim smile. The machines were destroying each other all around me. The only bad part was my own position, which was right at the center of it all.

I shrugged and drew in a deep breath. It was a small sacrifice to make if all these metal bastards destroyed one another.

-37-

The battle was—huge. I’d never been involved in an action that involved more ships. There were about three hundred Nanos, thirty-odd Macro cruisers and our own Earth fleet of about fifty vessels. Most of ours were gunships with big cannons and little else. We were by far the weakest force on the game board, except for my secret weapon: squads of assaulting marines.

The first phase of the battle was the hardest on my mind. I wanted to shout orders, to get the Nano ships to coordinate. Unfortunately, they weren’t interested in my opinions. Only
Alamo
listened, and hung back at the rear of the pack.

The fireworks began as the Nano ships reached maximum range and began peppering the bigger ships with laser beams. Right away, I was annoyed with their lack of command control. They didn’t all fire on a single ship and pound it until it went down. Instead, ten or so chose each front-rank cruiser and began needling it at long range. It was a losing strategy, because it gave the enemy more time to fire in return.

 I couldn’t control the Nano ships. All I could do was watch. The worst part was when the Macros launched a flood of missiles. The Nanos didn’t switch targets to these incoming threats immediately. They stuck with their long-range pecking, which I knew was only scarring up the hulls of the thick-skinned cruisers. The two sides were closing in on one another, but serious damage wouldn’t be done until they got into short range. That was not true of the missiles, however. A nuclear warhead detonated with the same force, no matter how far it was from its launching ship.

I pounded deep dents into the metal arm of my command chair. Gently, the smart metal reformed itself, pushing my gauntlet back out of the way. I was raving. Only
Alamo
was firing on the incoming missiles. Finally, snarling, I stood up and headed to the airlock. I’d waited too long already.

I bailed out of the airlock not even allowing it to cycle the oxygen back into the ship and thus keep it for some future biotic pilot. I used the puff of gas to give me the initial shove out into space. I spun for a second or two, until I was sure I was safely away from the ship’s hull.
Alamo
was moving erratically, dodging incoming bolts of hot metal that moved at tremendous velocity. The enemy had started firing their big guns long ago, and although there was little chance of them scoring a hit at this range,
Alamo
was taking no chances.

I used my repellers to halt my spin, then rolled on my back and watched as the ship that had starred in all my nightmares shrank away to nothing. In moments, it was swallowed by blackness. I felt a mix of emotions as I watched it go. I was reminded of a time I’d sold an old car which I hated, but somehow still felt an attachment to.

The yellow star shone on my visor, splashing it with bright glaring light. I hustled, flying toward the projected path of Earth’s fleet. With luck, I’d be close enough for them to scoop me up as they joined this mess.

As I flew I had a few minutes to contemplate what I’d started. Around me, space appeared to be empty. Even more than battles at sea, battles in space were so spread out you could be in the middle of one and barely notice. But appearances were deceiving. The combat around me would determine the fate of billions.

I thought about the Centaurs in the big habitat that had sagged down to Eden-9 in a fiery heap. Quite possibly, it had been the largest single loss of life I’d ever seen. An estimated twenty million were dead—and that was only a guess. The count could have been much higher, as we’d never numbered the herds. They didn’t think in terms of individuals and body counts. They had no census data to present us with. I supposed the exact number of dead didn’t really matter. In the end, the species would live on or be snuffed out. But I was certain there were no herds to return to Eden-9 and graze upon the fine grasslands.

When I thought about the Centaurs and how I’d dragged them back into a hot war with me, it was hard not to think of the Blues as well. They were in the mud with us now. Their peace agreement, whatever it was, had to be null and void after the actions of the Nano fleet. From the point of view of the Macros, the Blues had just launched an all out attack upon them. I smiled grimly inside my helmet at the thought. They had some skin in this game now.

I felt no remorse for including them in our misery. I could have respected their desire for neutrality, if they hadn’t caused this entire conflict in the first place. I didn’t hate the Blues, but I sure didn’t want them sitting out the festivities. They were front and center now. If we lost, so did they. Earth had never asked to be dragged into an interstellar war, but if we were going down, the Blues were going down with us.

A flash darkened my visor, and my smile disappeared. I could tell it came from behind me. I began to swivel my helmet, looking back, when a dozen more violent flashes turned my visor black. I turned back and stared ahead, urging more speed from my repellers. A wave of missiles must have reached the Nano ship line. They were detonating, and probably taking Nano ships out with each blast.

I activated my com-link and tried to connect to the command channel. Up until now, I’d been on radio-blackout. There was no sense giving any of these ships a target. But now, I needed to know if I was in the right zone to be picked up.

“This is Colonel Kyle Riggs, requesting pick-up. I’ll be listening for your instructions, but will not respond. Repeat, will not respond. Ending transmission and taking evasive action…now.”

I closed the transmitting half of the channel, and immediately dodged at various angles for ten miles or so. In space, a few miles would only be a round-off error, but it might be enough to get me out of the way of a missile with an eager Macro pilot.

Less than a minute later, dispatch came on. The voice was shockingly familiar. It was Sandra. “Kyle we have you. Stay in that general vicinity, but accelerate toward the battle. You need to speed up. Right now, we’re going too fast in relative speed to pick you up. You’d splatter on our windshield like a bug.”

I felt a strong urge to reply, but resisted it. I was surprised it was Sandra running dispatch—but I shouldn’t have been. On a Star Force ship, everyone had a job to do. Sandra had only really had experience with two duties: communications and serving as my bodyguard. I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d passed on the job of protecting Jasmine.

I turned directly toward the battle and poured on the power. For several nerve-racking minutes I sped closer to the fighting ships. I knew that at any instant, something could loom up out of the darkness and end my existence. It made me squint and grit my teeth.

When the fleet finally did catch up to me, it came as a shock. I was barely aware of their approach. All I sensed was a darkening of the region of space behind me—then something struck me. My visor starred, and the generator on my back was dented inward. It stopped working, and my repellers died.

The shock was so great, I think I might have died as well if I hadn’t been armored, nanotized and bathed by flesh-hardening Microbes. As it was, it felt as if my spine had been pulled out of my skin. It wasn’t until they began reeling me in and I regained my full faculties that I understood that a big nanite hand had reached down from the ship’s belly and plucked me out of space. I was pulled up into an airlock and dumped on the deck. Air pumped into the chamber, and when a chime signaled the all clear, I ripped off my helmet. I rolled over twice on the deck, groaning and gasping.

“Did you have to hit me that hard?”

“I’m surprised you’re alive, Colonel,” Jasmine said.

I looked up at her, blinking. She had a gun in her hand, and it was pointing at my face. She didn’t look happy.

“Tougher than a cockroach. That’s what Crow says.”

“He’s right.”

“Are you arresting me or executing me, Rear Admiral?” I asked.

She looked troubled at that. “This is my ship.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“You dragged me into this war of yours, and you haven’t finished it. Instead, you expanded it.”

“A fair assessment. We needed allies to win. Did you happen to notice the three hundred extra ships out there? The ones leading the charge?”

Jasmine licked her lips. “On this ship, I’m in command.”

“You said that already.” Groaning, I got up and reached for my helmet. I poked at the visor. Nanites were working at the cracks, but it was going to take a while for them to effect full repairs. My generator might take hours to fix itself. I was surprised I could move at all in the exoskeletal suit without power. I supposed I was considerably stronger than I used to be.

As I climbed to my feet, she backed up warily. I had a sudden thought. “Where’s Sandra?” I asked.

“She’s been neutralized.”

I frowned. “I don’t like euphemisms, Sarin. Sandra knew I was going to be picked up by
Goa
. She’s your com officer. What have you done with her?”

“She’ll be fine. You will both be released after this battle is over.”

Sarin reached down and picked up my helmet. She kept the gun on me, and eyed me suspiciously. I thought of several ways I could attack her, even with an unpowered suit. They were all risky and one of us was likely to end up dead or seriously injured.

“So you are proceeding with the battle? I thought you were running out on me. Why all this drama, if you are following my plans anyway?”

“I’m not,” she said. “I’m going to hang back and attack after the Nano ships have all been destroyed—or the Macros have. Whichever survives, I’ll step in to finish the other. We’re braking hard even now.”

I couldn’t feel it, but I believed her. This ship had excellent stablizers. I thought about her plan, and I didn’t like it. The Nanos were weak without good command and control. They couldn’t be trusted to win the battle on their own. I shook my head.

“A losing strategy, Jasmine. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you need to respect my authority and experience on this one.”

“I’m not going to lose this ship to save a bunch of Nano rogues!”

“That’s why you’re doing this?” I asked. “Because you love your first command so much?”

“I am following my orders. That’s all.”

“This is mutiny.”

“No, sir. You are the one who ignored orders and stayed out here, leaving Earth exposed. Star Force is not all about you, Colonel.”

I thought about that. “Crow really did a number on you. What else did he tell you to say?”

“Think of the Centaurs, Kyle. Think of the millions back home. I had relatives in Miami, did you know that?”

“No,” I admitted. “But I had two children the day these ships came rolling in over Earth. They were gutted and died before my eyes.”

Jasmine shook her head. “I’m sorry. Don’t worry about this, Colonel. I’m just going to leave you here for another hour. No more. My apologies. This is a Fleet ship and a Fleet decision.”

Then she backed out of the hold and left me standing there. I looked around and touched the bulkhead—it didn’t open. The control panel on the floor activated, but that led out into open space. And I was no longer wearing even a damaged helmet. She had taken it with her.

I cursed and kicked the walls until my boots left deep dents. Too bad they weren’t permanent. What was it with my highest ranking officers and disloyalty? Did everyone have to question my authority at every stage? I would have called it mutiny, but she was technically Fleet.

I thought about what she’d said. I supposed I could have made a few mistakes along the way in the Eden system. I might have been able to keep the Centaurs breathing if I’d made different choices.

I did some hard thinking over the next several minutes. I was pissed off, but I tried to look past that. I knew Jasmine had some good points. I was hard to deal with—I’m sure every skilled, opinionated commander was. It was the very qualities of leadership and self-reliance that made me a success she was struggling with. I supposed that meek Colonels were never locked into holds—but they probably didn’t win as many battles, either.

My first thought was to ride it out. If she wanted to win it her way, fine. I’d play along with her. After all, we should be able to take out the cruisers. It was likely the Nanos would all be destroyed, but the Macros would be so damaged they couldn’t defeat us. All in all, it didn’t sound so bad.

But I didn’t like it. The Nanos hadn’t been impressing me with their tactics. When the Macros fired missiles, they retreated, shooting them down one by one. When they advanced again, they stayed too far away and weren’t concentrating their fire. Every time this cycle was repeated, they lost more ships to the few missiles that got through and the relentless hail of railgun fire. The Nanos might well be annihilated, and then we’d have a full-fledged battle on our hands. In the end, we’d lose more ships and marines if we didn’t support the Nanos. Sarin was trying to take the safe route, but I felt she was taking the more dangerous one.

I decided to act. Part of me wondered if I was just fabricating worries in order to give me an excuse to not sit out a battle, but I honestly didn’t think so. I had a headache, and taking a break in a quiet hold didn’t sound too bad right about now. But it wasn’t going to happen that way. My mind had run the odds, and I didn’t like the projections for this conflict. I felt I had to get involved.

My suit was spitting sparks, but the nanites in it were still active. I ordered them to form a film over my exposed head and I ripped two clear plastic covers off my dog tags. These I put over my eyes. When held by a sheet of nanites, they would serve as half-assed goggles.

I coaxed a very thin film of silvery nanites into crawling their way over my face, making my scalp itch horribly. When they’d managed to link up with each other, forming a surface rather like a bubble of mercury, I tried to get them to hold my makeshift plastic eyeholes into place. I was only partly successful, and could only see out of one eye. I decided it would have to do, as I didn’t have much time.