Tactics of Conquest (Stellar Conquest) (27 page)

Breathing heavily, the Sekoi slowly turned back and hunched his shoulders. “No. I will stay.”

“Then please refrain from damaging the equipment,” the captain said. Klis the Ryss leaned over to murmur something to Bogrin, too low for him to hear. Absen found it interesting that the carnivore was talking to the mostly herbivorous omnivore.

We can’t turn this into a human versus alien conflict. It’s good that Klis appears to be making an effort to mediate, but in a way, Bogrin is right. I have to prove to them that I am not risking our lives by going easy on the enslaved humans.

Tense silence reigned on the bridge, broken only by terse orders and phrases from the officers, speaking to each other and the rest of the boat.

“We’re rounding the moon, sir,” Okuda said.

“
Bogey at eight o’clock
–” yelled Scoggins, and the bridge exploded into action. A flashing red icon and a wailing alarm showed in the holotank, close off
Conquest
’s port quarter, just abaft the beam. Very close.

“Targeting –” Ford barked, but by the time his hand came down on the firing control, it had been inactivated by the automated TacDrive cutoff. Absen felt the inertial field fling them forward for just a moment, a whiplash sensation unlike any he’d ever experienced, and then dump them back into normal space. If he had to guess, it might be a partial or very short pulse, with insufficient energy.

“What just happened?” Absen snapped, but he didn’t get an immediate answer. Okuda poured with sweat and twitched, his fingers tapping at his console like a demented spider even as he worked in VR linkspace, and the captain could feel the gravplates compensate for
Conquest
’s violent maneuvering. Helmets had snapped shut and the peculiar automated alarm
whooped
, recommending they seal into their seats using the crash cocoon function.

“
No power
,” Ford snarled as he fired brief bursts at something. Absen knew that the enormously upgraded weapons aboard needed the massive slugs of stored capacitor energy to fully operate; even with the many extra reactors, the combat systems could easily use all the available juice. “Launching missiles.”

Missiles took little power, Absen knew. He hated to expend the ammunition, but the manufactories could eventually replenish them with time and materials. Ford must be using what he had, to fight off a threat that had surprised them.

“Report!” Absen said as the evasive maneuvering continued. “What just happened?”

The main screen shifted as Scoggins changed views, showing the back side of the moon jiggling with a long optical shot. Red light blazed and flickered through billows of moon-dust that was slowly falling to the surface, unsupported by atmosphere.

“That’s another Weapon!” Absen leaped to his feet and strode over to stare at the screen.

“Sir, get back in the Chair, now!” Chief Steward Tobias dragged the protesting captain back and shoved him forcibly into the seat to click the restraint harness, then did the same for himself. “We need to seal up.”

“I would also advise sealing into crash cocoons, sir,” Michelle said. “If that laser hits us, the organics will need the protection.”

“Hit us? Where –” Absen throttled his questions and forced himself to
think
. “Ford, do what you can and keep them busy. Helm, keep evading. Scoggins, how far away are we?”

“Over three million klicks, sir. Okuda must have initiated a TacDrive pulse using whatever was in the capacitors, throwing us forward and out of the way, but we’re still well within that thing’s range. Only the fact that even its light takes more than ten seconds to reach us has allowed us to evade the beam, but it’s out there.” She adjusted her board, and a red line reached out from the moon toward the holographic teardrop that represented
Conquest
. It waved around like a drunken searchlight.

“Looks like it’s only a matter of time before it gets lucky and clips us,” Absen said.

“Yes, sir,” Michelle said from her station. “We are evading away from the emitter, but I calculate the likelihood of damage at better than fifty percent before we leave its envelope.”

Ford said, “I’ve got our available missiles launching in staggered waves, sir, attacking them from widely differing angles. That should keep them occupied.”

“Good job, Ford. Remind me to crucify an intelligence officer when we have time.”

“Will do, sir.” Ford chuckled grimly. “How did we miss it?”

“Probably well hidden for just such a purpose. Transmissions from the Meme sentries must have passed information on our conquest of the Gliese 370 system. The reports would have reached here more than ten years ago, more than enough time to build another moon laser.”

“Tricky bastards,” he muttered.

“Cocoons,” reminded Michelle.

“Agreed. Everyone cocoon up.” Absen leaned back and allowed the Chair to reform itself into a crash couch, surrounding and enclosing him in biogel. Automated systems allowed his suit to deflate and his helmet to retract. Then came the part he really detested, when the living mask pressed over his face, extended tubes down his throat and filled his lungs with dense liquid that would cushion him from G forces in the event of gravplate failure.

His seldom-used brainlink came up as the plug
snicked
into the slot in his skull, another thing he disliked. But, he could see the need for it in extreme situations. A moment later he felt as if his eyes opened as his optic nerves were fed a VR view of the bridge. It seemed as if he now sat back in the Chair as usual, suitless and comfortable, and the crew the same.

“Is the crew cocooned as well?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Timmons said from behind. “Everyone reports sealed up and controlling their functions through VR.”

Absen knew this was a less efficient method of operating a boat in some ways, but the addition of telefactors and robots compensated. That reminded him… “Conquest. If we take damage, you are hereby authorized to take whatever steps you deem necessary for survival of the boat and crew. Don’t ask, just do it.” He knew she could handle dozens of telefactors and direct the army of robots to make repairs far more efficiently than any one crewmember could.

“Aye aye, sir.” In VR, the robotic appearance of her avatar had fled, replaced by a virtual body no different from the rest.

Abruptly the simulation froze, skipped and fuzzed out for a moment, and then slowly came back online. Absen’s head hurt, though the link should have overridden any pain. “Report!”

“The exawatt-power beam struck us briefly, sir,” Conquest answered. “We lost two fusion engines, two of the missile box launchers, and twenty-seven rear lasers. Main armor held; all damage came from embrasure locations. Fifteen likely casualties so far.”

“How long until we’re out of range?”

“Eighty more seconds.”

“That was bad, but as long as –” and then the simulation shook and shattered around him.

This time Absen floated in VR space for what seemed like minutes, trying to get some kind of response from the cocoon or the link. He couldn’t even feel his own body, so the system must be still blocking him in. It was supposed to dump him out of VR if it went down entirely, allowing him to access the internal manual controls.

Finally the rebooting sequence began again, and when he could “see” again, Absen saw his people’s VR avatars awakening intermittently. “Helm, report!”

Grimly, Okuda answered. “The second strike caught us before I had damped out all of our tumble from the first. When we lost number two and three engines, the other four threw us into a spin. As it happened, the next beam swept across our bow.”

“The forward armor held!” Absen exulted, joyfully shocked that
Desolator
’s upgrades had stopped even a glancing blow from the ravening enemy beam. In the battle for Gliese 370, that Weapon had punched through battleships like paper.

“Yes, sir. Between the superconducting layers and the collapsium, it only penetrated about a hundred meters. Unfortunately…”

Ford broke in. “We’ve lost the entire forward weapons array, and another thirty-one lasers. And a couple more hundred-round missile boxes, though those are easy to replace.”

“Do we have TacDrive?”

“Theoretically,” Okuda replied. “The system checks out nominal, but I don’t know about the capacitors.”

“Scoggins! What’s our threat status?”

Screens and the holotank swirled and pictures coalesced. Even the flatscreen images were three-dimensional in linkspace. “We’re out of range of the laser now, sir. I see several hundred installations and drones awake, many maneuvering for a better view or to attack us. The nearest asteroid fortress that poses a serious threat is about two and a half hours away from weapons range.”

“At least we’re not under immediate attack,” Absen said. “COB, what’s our damage control status?”

“I’ve got everyone working, sir, but…” Timmons pursed his lips and took a breath.

“Spit it out, Chief.”

“Sir, we could make repairs a lot faster if you took the cuffs off the AI.”

Absen grunted. “You too, huh, COB? Get in a tough spot and we hand over the keys?”

Timmons stood up and walked over to speak quietly into Absen’s ear. Even though this was a VR simulation, its exquisite reality made the captain forget everyone was inside their cocoons. “Boss, we’re crippled. Putting the AI in the loop will more than triple the speed of repairs.”

“That much?”

“Yes, sir. She can handle multiple bots so much faster than any one human, even linked, that it’s like magic. I’m just as worried as you are, but we have Marines with EMP and we have fail-safes. We can always fry her brain.”

“Okay, COB. You got it.” Absen raised his voice. “Conquest, you are authorized full access to all damage control, repair and maintenance systems throughout the boat in order to bring her up to full capability again. Keep the COB informed.”

“Aye aye, sir!” Michelle replied with enthusiasm.

“Engineering, report.”

Fletcher was still unconscious, and Klis, like all Ryss, had refused a link implant, so Absen did not expect an answer, but he hoped the VR system would route his request somewhere. Instead, he heard Klis’ hissing voice, though he did not see her in VR space. “Rebooting and testing the grid, Captain. Fifty percent and climbing. All power not necessary for repairs is going to the TacDrive capacitors, as ordered.”

“Well done, Lieutenant. How are you operating?” Absen couldn’t help asking.

“As soon as I could, I opened my cocoon to operate manually.”

Of course. That should have been obvious
. Absen sent a mental command to open his cocoon but leave him linked, and then told the rest of the bridge crew to do the same at their discretion. “Do whatever gets the job done, people. We can risk a little VR syndrome.”

The medley of problems with too much linking could be dealt with, but had never been completely overcome. Human brains had their limits, and the rich and powerful tapestry of virtual reality strained them, especially with the ability to slow and speed the time sense. In fact, Helmsmen lived in a state of addiction, managed but never cured. Perhaps that was why they seemed so serene and remote, like the legendary lotus-eaters.

Several unpleasant minutes later, Absen sat upright in the Chair, his face once again free of invasive biomachines. Fletcher’s cocoon remained closed, and would do so unless overridden by medical personnel. Doc Horton had already fled the bridge for the infirmary, treating casualties, so Bogrin was in the process of trying to determine the extent of the Engineering officer’s injuries. “It appears he has a concussion, and the system keeps him under for now,” the Hippo rumbled.

“Leave him there. Klis can handle Engineering, I’m sure. Projections on repairs?”

Klis flicked her ears in appreciation and said, “Two fusion engines are completely destroyed. The beam entered their exhaust ports and vaporized everything in the associated engine rooms. Fortunately the new design compartmentalized each so we did not lose all six. Those will take weeks to manufacture and install.”

“Noted. Continue.”

“Loss of the two engines cut available power by twelve percent. The grid is repair priority one, and should require six to ten more minutes to reach full efficiency.”

“Can we fire Exploder missiles?”

Klis tapped her board. “Launch tube will be usable in about two hours.”

“The main weapons array?”

“Two days, maybe more. There was heavy damage, as the armor covering the main firing ports was not capable of withstanding such a strike. Most of the lasers can be replaced from spares, though, so we will have full secondary capability within six hours.”

“How long until that Guardian gets in range?”

Scoggins replied, “Just a hair over four hours, sir.”

Absen relaxed slightly, allowing himself to sit back in the Chair. “Good work, people. Give me the PA.” Once he was on, the captain spoke, his words piped throughout the boat. “This is Captain Absen. While we have sustained severe damage, the TacDrive is operational and we can run if we have to. But this boat was not built to run. She was built to fight, so I need her in fighting shape. If we run, we give the enemy precious time. I aim to deny him that time. I know every one of you will give his or her maximum effort, and I thank you in advance. That is all.”

“Do you really mean that, Captain?” The Ryss voice surprised him, routed from the auxiliary bridge. As he hadn’t pulled his link out yet, he saw the bridge in hybrid enhanced reality mode, and a small popup had appeared to tell him who spoke.

It was Trissk.

“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“AuxConn has taken damage. Commander Rikard is dead and I am the ranking officer here. I must speak.”

“Speak freely, Trissk.” Absen knew the auxiliary bridge monitored everything on the main bridge, so they could take over in an emergency. This time, however, it looked like the backup had been damaged.

“If you want every crewmember to give maximum effort, as you say, you must free Conquest.”

Absen found himself surprised. “I would have thought the Ryss would be just as wary of turning over too much power to an AI as I am.”