Authors: Michael Freeport
“Your moral inferiority is not an assumption, admiral.
We have clearly demonstrated it. The demonstration was confirmed by the command
committee. Please do not try to recover from such a weak position. It is
unseemly.”
Drogue bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment of
Ktenu's statement. “I did not mean to infer to the contrary, commander. What I
meant to say is that we, being morally inferior, are in a position to help the
alliance as we have previously proposed. We still need to use your ships and
have one of your salvage and factory ships follow along behind us, but we
believe we can still accomplish the originally proposed mission.”
“Haven't we proved that is exactly what you cannot do
over the last three days, Admiral?” Ktenu asked.
“Perhaps if I put this another way, commander. Do the
crabs have battleships or battlecruisers in any of their systems?”
“Not that our sensors can detect, but-”
“And do you believe the numerical advantage the
offensive squadron has over all three systems is sufficient to virtually
guarantee success?”
“That is not the point, Admiral. We cannot allow
beings so lacking in character to-”
“You aren't answering my question, commander. Yes or
no, does the offensive force have an overwhelming advantage in all three
systems?”
“It does, but I must point out if I sanction your
actions now, my command of the command committee will be brought into question.
I may lose my position within the committee or perhaps even be removed from
commander rank altogether.”
“Then the question you must ask yourself is if your
rank and position are sufficiently important to allow the destruction of your
alliance. If so, then I expect you all to be some very morally upstanding
corpses in the next six months.”
“Six months?”
“Ten at the outside, if everything goes well for you
and the crabs have fewer ships than you actually think they do.”
“And where, exactly, did you receive this analysis
from, admiral?”
“Lieutenant Kelper, my tactical officer is the one who
initially projected the alliance's fall. Captain Hanlon and I then went through
the same analysis and we agree with her.”
“Your analysis is flawed, admiral. Our tactical
experts have assured the command committee we have years before the crabs
become a serious threat.”
“I don't think so, Commander. Allow Miss Kelper to
demonstrate her analysis for you.”
“Proceed, Admiral, but be warned, our intelligence
will examine this finding of yours as well.”
“Of course,” Drogue said. His tone had a wry twist to
it. He turned to Kelper and said, “Lieutenant, if you please?”
“Certainly, Admiral. Commanders, if you will please
direct your attention to the screen.” Kelper then tapped her tablet, bringing
the screen back to life. The view was of the frontier between the alliance and
crab regions of space. “As you can see here, the crabs have taken roughly
twenty-seven percent of previously held alliance territory over the last two
point one standard years.” The standard year was a division based on galactic
rotation that loosely represented common orbits of planets in orbits that
supported most carbon based life and had liquid water. The standard year was
roughly one point two-five years on Lashmere. “The rate of capture is
accelerating. The crabs have amassed a fleet here.” Kelper caused a point to
display on the map just outside alliance held space. “The fleet is capable of
destroying any base or planetary system the alliance has in a single stroke,
including your two main bases. Your analysts have been aware of this situation
for the last month or more. Unless you give the crabs a reason to disperse this
force, you will be destroyed quite soon. They have sure knowledge your morality
prevents you from any kind of counterattack. Are there any questions so far,
sirs?”
No one spoke for a moment. Ktenu finally said,
“Lieutenant, while I'm sure the data used in this analysis is correct, I'm not
as convinced your interpretation of it is correct.”
“Excuse me, Commander Ktenu,” Kelper said, “I am
merely presenting my conclusions. The belief or disbelief you may have in our
ability to project likely tactical developments is a non-issue at this time. I
meant to ask if anyone does not understand any aspect of what I am presenting
at this time.”
Hanlon stared at Kelper in shock. The petite, dusky
woman certainly didn't lack self-confidence. She gave Drogue a questioning
look, and he nodded for her to continue.
“Sirs, the projection of force is as follows.
Initially, under optimal conditions, the crabs will divide their force into
three and hit the following systems.” She tapped her tablet again, showing
three lines moving from where the fleet currently resided and striking the
flank of the alliance. “From there, they will concentrate and hit your
secondary base, this base.” The lines merged and a red dot appeared where the
alliance base was located. “Again, knowing you will not engage in any kind of
counterattack, playing a purely defensive strategy and also assuming the crabs
have a reasonably accurate picture of your fleet deployments, they'll move from
this base to your home system.” A long line moved from the base to the Xalcek
system, where the alliance was headquartered. “The fleet then divides again
into four units to take out the remaining home systems of all the alliance
races.” More lines and dots crossed the map. “Once that's done, more than
ninety percent of your shipyard, manufacturing and fleet units will be
destroyed. The mop up will take another two or three months, but no remaining
obstacles will remain in their path.”
“What you've done is simply demonstrate the worst
possible scenario for us, Lieutenant,” Ktenu said. “Our own tactical experts
have made the same suppositions, and we have increased our system security in
response to the potential threat. If the crabs are foolish enough to come
charging into this system, their fleet will not survive. I applaud your ability
to project an aura of fear and desperation, but the alliance has been aware of
this threat for several weeks. Our primary and secondary bases have defenses of
which you are unaware. They are not common knowledge and are not a topic
available for discussion with non-member beings. Be assured we are prepared for
any such fleet to enter our system.”
Kelper looked at Admiral Drogue. He motioned her to
sit down and then said, “We are pleased to hear of your preparations,
Commander. Since you are clearly ready for anything the crab fleet can bring to
bear on your systems, it will be no trouble to send the offensive force out on
the raiding missions.”
Ktenu turned and spoke in a hissing, clicking and
popping language with the other commanders for a moment. The other commanders
all began rapping the conference table again with the backs of their hands.
“It is decided, admiral. Your people have demonstrated
a single minded desire to destroy. Your force will be allowed to complete these
raids. I must emphasize to you that the moral implications of your actions
cannot be blamed on the command committee. The reason we allow your actions is
that we do need the resources those systems contain. Further preparation and
enhanced ship building are opportunities we would prefer to avail ourselves
of.”
Drogue said, “Excellent. We'll resupply and refit
tomorrow and depart for our mission on the following day.”
“As you like, Admiral. Forward your detachment's
timetable to the base comm node prior to departure. A salvage ship will follow
behind you at a safe distance. Should you succeed, it will come into the system
and retrieve any resources of value while you protect it prior to moving on to
the next system you've targeted.”
Drogue, Hanlon, and the alliance commanders all stood.
The commanders left the room first, followed by the humans. As they walked
along the base passageway back to the Broadsword, Hanlon began to speak, but
Drogue silenced her with an upraised hand. “Wait until we are back on the
Broadsword, Captain.”
Back aboard the Broadsword, Drogue led the other three
officers to his cabin. Once everyone was seated, Drogue said, “Captain, what's
your impression of why the alliance allowed us to continue with our mission?”
“I think the temptation of gaining those resources is
greater than they want to let on, sir. Despite all their protestations of moral
superiority, they may still be vulnerable to vices like greed. Perhaps they
need them more than we think. If they've been building defensive platforms in
all these systems at a rate sufficient to meet the crab fleet, they may be so
tapped out that they're willing to allow their hands to get a little dirty by
sanctioning our mission. I expect they plan to use the resources to build even
more defensive forces.”
Drogue said, “I agree. Mister Watkins, I know you were
able to get into their computer. Would you please provide a full report on your
activities?”
“Yes, sir. I don't know what the alliance considers as
far as computer security, but they have a remarkably simple protection
protocol. I was able to download most of the alliance historical database. I
haven't been able to peruse any of their information so far, but I expect we
have much more than the data we need. The data was pretty easy to convert to
our computer language. We should be able to run inquiries directly to the
database. I don't think I have much from the period between two and four
thousand years ago, but I definitely got everything from the founding of the
alliance and the most recent thousand years as well.”
“Excellent work, Mister Watkins,” Drogue said. “Upload
the database to our computer and let's start running some inquiries.” Drogue
waited in silence along with Hanlon and Kelper while Watkins made a hard
connection with the human built computer sitting on Drogue's desk. Once the
information had been transferred, Drogue addressed the computer, “Prepare a
summary of the founding of the alliance.”
The computer considered the request for a few seconds
before displaying a large block of text. The formatting made it difficult to
read and some breaks in the data were apparent. All four officers huddled close
together as they read the displayed data.
Hanlon said, “So that's confirmation. The alliance was
formed in response to humanity's intrusion into their space. At least that's
how it's written here. I wonder how human history reads.”
“If they did wipe us out with a biological weapon, it
might explain their obsession with defensive strategies and morality,” Kelper
said, “The members of the alliance may have felt humanity's destruction was
wrong somehow.”
“Good thinking, Lieutenant,” Hanlon said.
Drogue said, “Look here, there's another reference to
some super-weapon the humans had before being destroyed.” Drogue inputted
another inquiry and waited for the data to be displayed. “The alliance didn't
know exactly what it was but, they were terrified of the destructive potential.
It looks like it was some kind of ship that made humans nearly impossible to
defeat. I wish there was more detail here.”
“Sorry, sir,” Watkins said.
“Don't apologize, Lieutenant. You did a top notch job.
No one can complain about your efforts.” Drogue suddenly let out a bark of a
laugh. The first laughter anyone had heard from the admiral. “Can you imagine
if the alliance commanders realized you were hacking into their database while
they were in the same room with you?”
Watkins broke into a grin and then laughed, too. “I
bet they would be furious about our 'immoral and insidious attack on their
morally superior data network'.”
Everyone at the desk chuckled before turning their
attention back to the computer screen. “Anyone else have any ideas on what kind
of inquiries we should make?” Drogue asked.
“Does the alliance have a founding charter or
constitution?” Hanlon asked.
Drogue pulled up the data and said, “It looks like it.
They have a series of founding principles and agreements of support. Their
government is founded here as well. This would take days to read. It's over a
thousand pages long.”
“Well, at least we should be able to use it to gain
some understanding of how their culture works,” Hanlon said.
Drogue pulled up his clock. “It's time we all turned
in. Good work, everyone.”
Watkins said, “Before we go to bed, there is one more
thing I should tell you.”
“What is it, Lieutenant?”
“Well, while I was in their computer system, I input a
secure access path so I can get back into their computers without anyone
knowing about it. The access also allows us to listen in on any secure
communications being transmitted to any alliance ship in the area. The more
information we can keep flowing in, the better our chances, sir.”
“Excellent. Truly excellent, Lieutenant. Thank you,”
Drogue said. “Now, let's all turn in. We have a very busy day tomorrow
preparing to ship out.”
Supplying the ships was a relatively straightforward
task. Hanlon reviewed the dietary requirements of the crews, and added them to
the requisition. She then used the remaining storage area to request spare
parts and additional damage control materials. She sent the request to the
alliance comm node the night of the meeting she'd attended with the alliance
commanders. A confirmation message came back immediately, but that was an
automated response. Hanlon wondered if the alliance would approve their
requests. Some of the items they wanted were repair and manufacturing
facilities usually carried only on the largest ships. Hanlon believed they were
unlikely to get much more support from the alliance, and she wanted to have the
opportunity to carry some of the most advanced alliance technology back to
Lashmere if they had the chance as well.
Hanlon changed and lay down in her bunk. She hadn't
realized until just that moment how tired she was. All her joints felt like
they were relaxing at once. As the oblivion of sleep overtook her, she thought
how much she needed a vacation. Perhaps after the raids she would take a few
days off.
She was awakened what seemed like five minutes later
by an insistent beeping coming from her computer. Sighing, she rolled out of
bed and tapped the accept key. Drogue's face appeared on the monitor. His hair
was tousled, and his eyes were weary. “Captain. Why did you requisition so much
from the alliance? Ktenu woke me up about twenty minutes ago to complain about
your materials requisition. The alliance doesn't pass those repair systems
without good reason. I need one to give Ktenu so he will send us the machines
you want.” Drogue stopped and waited for her reply.
Hanlon rubbed the sleep from her eyes before
responding. “Sir, we are going to be operating well away from alliance borders
without the benefit of material support. The salvage and factory ship won't
come in to help us unless we can guarantee the area is safe. If we have to make
repairs as we go, we need those machines.”
“Good enough, Captain. I'll reason it out with Ktenu.”
Drogue looked up at his clock and then said, “Get back to sleep. See you in the
morning.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Hanlon awoke to her alarm several hours later. After
dressing, she went out to the boarding concourse where the offensive squadron
was docked. To her surprise, everything she had ordered was sitting there,
waiting to be loaded. She passed among the stacks of supplies and equipment
mentally checking off everything she'd requested.
“Does it meet with your approval, Captain?”
Hanlon yelped and whirled to see Admiral Drogue standing
a few feet from her. “Sir, I apologize. You startled me.”
“You were engrossed in your inspection. Muster is in
five minutes. We can organize a working party to load everything.”
“Yes, sir. How did you convince Ktenu to send
everything?”
“Your hunch was correct. After I had got off the comm
with you, I resumed my conversation with Ktenu last night. His people are more
than just in need of these supplies. They are truly desperate. I suspect they
aren't as well prepared for an all out crab assault as they have led us to
believe either. The way the command council acts towards us, like we are an
unpleasant truth they have to face each time we talk to them, makes me think
they intend to use us for as long as possible.”
“No matter how morally corrupt we are to them, we can
do things they refuse to allow themselves. They won't attack the crabs, and we
will.” Hanlon smirked to herself.
“What is it, Captain?”
“Oh, I know you don't like my sense of humor, sir. I
still think of things I find funny from time to time, though.”
“You may indulge yourself, captain.”
“Oh, well, I was thinking while we have them at a
disadvantage, we should get them to turn over command of their factory ship. I
was imagining the look Ktenu's face would have if we suggested such a thing.”
“I'm sure he'd have an apoplexy.” Drogue motioned
Hanlon to walk with him towards the boarding tube to the Broadsword.
Hanlon followed the admiral and said, “Have you worked
out how we can gain control of the salvage ship once the third raid is
complete, sir?”?
Drogue glanced over his shoulder as the pair walked
past various divisions mustering and beginning their work day aboard the
Broadsword. “Once the third raid is complete, I plan to come up with some premise
to allow us to get a boarding party over to the salvage ship. I have a few
possibilities in mind.”
Hanlon paused while following the admiral. After a
moment, she wondered if he planned to enlighten her as to his plans. “May I ask
what your ideas are, sir?”
“Why don't you tell me, captain? How would you get a
boarding party on the salvage ship immediately following a combat action?”
Hanlon was taken aback by his question. Although
Drogue had mellowed slightly as their working relationship had developed, he
very rarely sought her input once he had made a decision. “Um, I think the
request to board the ship would have to appear legitimate to the alliance crew.
The trick would to be to come up with a reason that made it look like we needed
something aboard the salvage ship.” Hanlon paused while she thought. Drogue
eyed her expectantly. Hanlon continued, “If we were recently in combat, we
might need some of the salvaged materials to refit before departing the
system.”
Drogue gave her a nod and just a hint of a smile.
“Excellent, Captain. I arrived at the same conclusion. There are two systems on
each ship that must be functional for us to transit back to the alliance base.
The gravity well generator and the EM field generator that protects us from interstellar
dust. Both of these systems require some amount of the target materials. If one
or both of these systems were critically damaged in the fire fight, we should
be able to make a plausible case to send a shuttle or two to the salvage ship
to get those materials to effect repairs.
“Rather than send over a crew of technicians to
retrieve those materials, we'll send over a boarding party to take control of
the ship and fly it to the Lashmere system. Once we've taken a share of the
materials, the salvage ship will be released back to alliance territory. I'm
hopeful the alliance will accept the materials we leave them with and not make
an issue of it. I think once we report the alliance is responsible for the near
extinction of humanity, the mutual aid pact will rapidly be put to an end,
regardless.”
“With luck, the alliance will be too busy defending
themselves against the crabs to try to come and take what we have.”
Drogue nodded. The pair entered the bridge. Watkins
and Kelper were already there, having just completed the morning brief with
their divisions. “Put me on the general announcing circuit, Mister Watkins.”
“Aye, sir.” Watkins tapped a control and then said,
“You're on, Admiral.”
“Crew of the Broadsword, today we are completing our
load-out and preparing for our raids. The alliance has seen fit to provide us
with a full load of foodstuffs, spare parts and damage control materials. We've
rehearsed these actions over the last week and, despite what the alliance
government thinks, we have a decisive advantage over the crab ships. Today, we
will finish our preparations. Minimum watch stations and mandatory maintenance
only. All non-vital crew are to have as much rest and relaxation as possible.
Tomorrow we begin maneuvering out of space dock at oh-six hundred. This is
Admiral Drogue, out.”
Hanlon oversaw the stores load and installation of the
damage control equipment over the next five hours. Once her tasks were
complete, she retired to her cabin and spent time reading a book until it was
time to sleep. That night, she dreamed a dream she had had many times before.
Always before she left on a mission, she dreamt of standing at the peak of a
mountain, far above the clouds. Fierce, freezing wind whipping at her while she
held her arms out to either side, as if welcoming it. The dream was vivid, and
she always remembered when she had this particular dream.
The offensive squadron left space dock the next
morning and began its six day transit to the first system to be raided. The
transit was quiet, almost routine. Everyone in the crew knew they were going to
fight, but they had known that was likely from the time they volunteered to
join the expeditionary force. Battle drills were held several times a day to
maximize the efficiency and familiarity of each crew with their assigned ship.
The arrival at the first system was equally uneventful. Drogue had ordered the
five ship formation to come out of faster than light well outside the system to
avoid triggering any kind of early warning system.
Hanlon came up to the bridge a few minutes after the
ships had come out of faster than light travel. Drogue, Kelper, and Watkins
were already there.
“Good morning, sir,” Hanlon said. “How far out of the
system did we arrive?”
“About six hours, right on target. We're setting up
passive sensors now. If alliance intelligence is correct, they have no more
than one destroyer class ship and between five or six corvettes escorting a
small group of cargo ships. We've timed our arrival so we can slip in between
their departure from the crab base and their jump out point. With luck, we'll
get one of the larger convoys.”
“Are we to destroy the cargo ships as well, Admiral?”
“We plan to unless they offer terms of surrender. The
crabs have a larger force in the system that we probably can't defeat so timing
must be precise.”
“Have we gained contact with the alliance salvage
ship?”
“We sent confirmation of undetected arrival a few
minutes ago. They're ready to make a short trip in. We'll have to relay exact
coordinates to them so they can arrive as close to the salvage areas as
possible.”
Watkins swiveled the low backed stool he sat on at his
station and said, “Sir, if I may, what is the expected response time from the
system picketing force?”
“Alliance intelligence estimates it would take them
between six and eight hours to respond to an incursion this far out in the
system. Our analysis of alliance intelligence also suggests they may leave a
portion of their force on station in case this attack is a feint in preparation
to attacking the system as a whole. While the alliance is unable to take
offensive action, the crabs are an entirely different matter. They may decide
we're committing ourselves to an all out attack to try to regain some of the
lost territory.”
“I see, sir. Thank you.” Watkins returned his
attention to his console.
Time passed slowly for everyone involved. The ships
slid through the dead of space, using only the slightest of their available
engine power to minimize the chances of being detected. The gravitational
distortions caused by the alliance and human ships were detectable at
exponentially longer ranges as rates of acceleration increased.
Once the ships were in position, Drogue sent the
squadron to battle stations. Fortunately, the crabs had been polite enough to
schedule their departure for late in the afternoon for the ship's 'day'. Of the
three raids, this was the trickiest and also had the biggest potential payoff.
Watkins said, “I've got the convoy on passive sensors,
admiral.”
“Put the data up on the forward screen,” Drogue said.
The display came to life, showing a series of
indistinct, fuzzy blobs. “Sorry, the resolution is still pretty poor at this
range, sir,” Watkins said. “It looks like at least four convoy ships, possibly
five,” Watkins added sensor data to each of the fuzzy blobs. “There are six
larger signals and five smaller ones. In effect, the larger ones could all be
either destroyers or cargo ships. To be safe, I have presumed two destroyers
along with seven escorts.”
“Very good, Mister Watkins. Miss Kelper, warm up the
weapons system. Keep our power signature below the crab sensor threshold.”
“Aye, sir,” Kelper said. “Weapons system will be
active in just over two minutes.”
“Very well. Mister Watkins, time to weapons range?”
“They're decelerating for their FTL transit now, sir.
At the current rate, they'll enter weapons range in sixteen minutes. When do
you want me to begin using active sensors?”
“Wait until they're one minute outside of weapons
range. It won't take long to get positive weapons targeting since we already
know pretty much where they are and who is who.”
“Aye, sir,” Watkins said.
Everyone watched the countdown to active sensors on
the forward display. Hanlon felt the tension level rising steadily as the
numbers got smaller and smaller. Despite the advantage in firepower the small
squadron of ships had, very few of the officers and crew in the expeditionary
force were veterans of the Ebrim-Karn war. Hanlon's thoughts wandered to the
dream she'd had the night before. Once again, she was standing on the freezing
mountain. Unlike previous repetitions of the dream, it was not the beginning of
a mission, but in the midst of one. Something had felt slightly different about
the dream this time as well. Just before she'd come awake, she had looked up
and something, a tiny black dot had been visible in the sky above her. For
years, that dream had repeated itself without variation of any kind she could
remember. This was the first time things had changed. She wondered at the
significance of the black dot in the sky above her. Glancing at the screen, she
realized with a start the ship was about to begin its active scans.
“Mister Watkins engage active sensors as ordered,” Hanlon
said.
“Aye, ma'am. Engaging active sensors.” The return was
immediate at this range. “Five cargo ships, one destroyer and seven escort
class ships confirmed. The warships are powering their weapons systems. It
looks like they didn't detect the other ships.”