Read The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) Online

Authors: Christopher Nuttall

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #War, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #First Contact, #Galactic Empire, #Military, #Space Fleet, #Space Marine, #Space Opera

The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) (26 page)

 

“We lost seven ships in the engagement,” Hoshiko said.  “And it would have been a great deal more if they’d targeted the freighters instead.”

 

“And if they’d managed to take down our datanet,” Wilde agreed.

 

Hoshiko rather doubted they
could
.  The Tokomak might insist on having a single command ship, ensuring a great deal of confusion when - if - the flagship was blown into atoms, but human datanets were decentralised.  If
Jackie Fisher
was destroyed, one of the other warships would pick up the slack instantly.  It would be a little harder if one of the alien ships were to be taken out, as they used the Tokomak-designed system, yet they’d practiced rebooting the datanet with a new command ship during their first exercises. 

 

Better to hope for the best and prepare for the worst
, she reminded herself. 
They might get lucky or come up with an ingenious way of disabling our command net
...
or simply throw enough missiles at us that even we can’t stop more than a small fraction of them
.

 

“The point is,” Wilde said, “that the Grand Alliance might start fragmenting if they think beating the Druavroks will be easy, instead of a long hard slog.”

 

“That's something we will have to watch,” Hoshiko said, after a moment.  She didn't think it was particularly likely, not after the Druavroks had ransacked Amstar and a dozen other worlds, but the prospect had to be borne in mind.  “We did lose a number of freighters in the attack on Malachi.”

 

“By any reasonable standard, Captain, that victory was bought cheaply,” Wilde reminded her, calmly.  “But we won against an enemy who was unprepared for us.  Word is spreading.  The
next
enemy force we face will be tougher.”

 

Hoshiko nodded.  There was no way to be
sure
, but the Druavroks she’d faced at Dab-Yam had definitely been more competent than the defenders of Malachi.  They’d done all the right things and only lost because they’d run into an outside context trap.  What would they do, if they realised the truth?  In their place, she would have mounted another attack on Amstar - or Martina.  Occupying Martina would give them both the gravity points
and
cut Hoshiko off from her superiors ...

 

Not that that’s a bad thing
, part of her mind noted. 
If Uncle Mongo wants to relieve me of command, sending the orders will take years without the gravity points
.

 

She pushed the thought aside.  “We’ll also be getting tougher,” she said.  Dab-Yam might or might not provide enough supplies to make saving the planet worthwhile, from a long-term point of view, but giving the enemy a bloody nose would help recruit more allies.  “And the more allies we make, the more ships we will have at our disposal.”

 

“We really ought to be considering deep-strike missions,” Griffin pointed out.  “But that would run the risk of leaving Amstar and the other threatened worlds uncovered.”

 

Hoshiko nodded.  Leaving the naval base at Martina uncovered was a risk, but the Grand Alliance could produce everything she needed if something happened to the multiracial world.  She could trade space for time if necessary, yet her allies couldn't make the same calculation.  Their homeworlds were under threat.  Indeed, the Druavroks might manage to split the alliance if they grabbed everything within reach and launched an all-out attack on a major homeworld.

 

But there are powerful defences there already
, she thought. 
And they will get stronger as human technology and unlocked fabbers spread through the sector.

 

“We can send a handful of smaller ships deeper into enemy territory,” she said, after a moment.  The Grand Alliance couldn't operate as a single fleet indefinitely.  “We can spare the crews to handle them.”

 

“Maybe,” Wilde said.  “We are cutting our margins of safety alarmingly thin.”

 

“I know,” Hoshiko said. 
Jackie Fisher
now had a permanent crew of fifty, the remaining crewmembers spread over a hundred alien warships.  The other cruisers in her squadron had the same problem.  She simply didn't have the manpower to ensure everyone spoke the same language, let alone operated as a team.  “We’re going to be putting junior officers in command of raiding parties.”

 

“Well, Ensign Howard
did
manage to command the courier boat,” Wilde said, with a flicker of amusement.  “He might
just
be qualified for something larger.”

 

“With
one
crewman under his command,” Hoshiko said.  The idea of a courier boat having a standard chain of command was ridiculous.  Barriers that were easy to maintain on warships wouldn’t last a day on a courier boat.  “But you’re right - he might have to take command of a refurbished warship, if we can't find the officers and crew elsewhere.”

 

She shook her head.  “We’ll leave a squadron of warships and a pair of officers here,” she said, as she rose.  “The remainder of the fleet will head back to Amstar tonight.  We’ll use the journey to plot out our next move.”

 

“And hope the enemy doesn't come up with a plan of his own,” Wilde said, warningly.  He rose too.  “They’re bound to be fuming with rage.”

 

“I’m not worried about them fuming with rage,” Hoshiko said.  She’d provoked the Druavroks deliberately to lure them into a trap.  “Massive wave attacks are alarming, but easy to handle.  I’m worried about them thinking their next step through carefully before launching their attack.”

 

She watched him go, then walked into the washroom and undressed before peering into the mirror.  Her body looked as healthy as always, but her eyes were tired.  She hadn't slept well since the battle, despite her implants.  There had just been too much else to do.  She turned on the water, stepped into the shower and sighed in relief as the warm water washed her clean.

 

Have a nap afterwards, then take the fleet back to Amstar
, she thought, as she scrubbed herself clean, then used a force field to dry herself.  Her body tingled under its touch. 
And pray that the enemy doesn't come up with something clever.

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

Water riots have torn the richer parts of California apart, following the collapse of the provisional government and media stories about the rich using water to wash their dogs while the poor are on strict rationing.  The news has helped encourage thousands more to flee into the countryside or cross the border into Arizona, which has proven safer.  A number of militia groups have actually been firing on civilians entering their territory.

-Solar News Network, Year 54

 

“There are thousands of humans who wish to sign up with us,” Captain Ryman said, as he sat down in Hoshiko’s office.  “But they want something in exchange.”

 

Hoshiko leaned forward.  “What?”

 

“Either a largely-human colony within the sector or permission to immigrate into the Solar Union,” Captain Ryman said.  “The Druavroks haven't done much for diversity in the sector.”

 

“I imagine the Tokomak didn't do much either,” Hoshiko said.  Humans - the descendents of humans who had been taken from Earth centuries before Contact - were regarded as second-class citizens, like many other races that hadn't developed space travel before the Tokomak arrived.  “They can certainly have permission to immigrate to the Solar Union.  It isn't as if we could stop them, as long as they obey the rules.”

 

Captain Ryman nodded.  “But some of them also want a human colony within the sector,” he said.  “Finding a suitable world isn't going to be easy.”

 

“Impossible, I would have said,” Hoshiko said. 
She
would have preferred an asteroid colony, maybe a large cluster of asteroids that could be reshaped at will.  “Much of the good real estate within this sector has already been taken.”

 

“That’s the problem,” Captain Ryman agreed.  “They’re actually talking about exterminating the Druavroks on Malachi and claiming the planet for humanity.”

 

“I won’t commit genocide,” Hoshiko said, flatly.  “There’s nothing stopping us from establishing an asteroid settlement, something that can grow into a canton, but we’re not going to wipe a world clean just so humans can settle on it.  That would make us no better than the Druavroks.”

 

“Proving the Druavroks can be beaten, which you have done, has only fuelled demands for indiscriminate revenge,” Captain Ryman said.  “The Grand Alliance is already wondering about putting out peace feelers to the Druavroks.”

 

“If I thought they’d honour them, I’d support making the attempt,” Hoshiko said.  “But if they even agree to talk to us, Captain, they’ll break the agreement as soon as they think they can get away with it.”

 

“I don’t disagree with you,” Captain Ryman said.  “The problem is that not everyone thinks along the same lines.  It isn't a problem, at the moment, but it could easily become worse.”

 

“I’m planning to start dispatching smaller raiding missions into enemy territory, now we have more warships at our disposal,” Hoshiko said.  “How are we doing for weapons production?”

 

“Still crawling upwards,” Captain Ryman said.  “You expended a great many missiles at Dab-Yam.”

 

“And we killed a great many enemy ships,” Hoshiko countered.  “They won't be able to replace those losses in a hurry.”

 

“But they will, given time,” Captain Ryman said.  “Do you intend to hit their shipyards?”

 

“Eventually,” Hoshiko said.  “We also need to target their fabbers.”

 

She ignored his frown.  Targeting fabbers, even enemy fabbers, would incur the disapproval of the entire sector, but stripping the enemy of their capability to produce war material was a great deal more important.  If the Druavroks truly preferred to concentrate on the offensive, rather than the defensive, targeting their homeworlds might be more effective than anyone had a right to expect.  And if they lost the ability to produce missiles, they’d lose the war itself soon afterwards.

 

“The Grand Alliance will not approve,” Captain Ryman said.

 

“I wasn't planning to tell them,” Hoshiko said.  It was odd to realise that her allies had limits, when she knew that war was always total.  “But those fabbers are the lifeblood of their war machine.”

 

“I won’t tell them either,” Captain Ryman said.  “But be careful, please.”

 

“I will,” Hoshiko said.  “Has there been any more actionable intelligence?”

 

“I’ve already forwarded everything my people collected to your staff,” Captain Ryman said, leaning forward.  “The only interesting piece of data was that the Druavroks abandoned the siege of Treehouse.”

 

Hoshiko blinked.  “Treehouse?”

 

“It’s a rough translation of the world’s name, rotated through two separate Gal-Standards,” Captain Ryman said.  “The inhabitants look like giant trees; they have, I believe, an empathic link to their world.  There have been rumours that they have a long-range telepathic capability ever since they entered the Galactic mainstream, but nothing was ever proven.  The Tokomak wouldn't have hesitated to exploit them if they actually
could
beam messages over light years.”

 

“I imagine so,” Hoshiko agreed.  The concept of telepaths gave her the chills.  “Is their world important?”

 

“They had a formidable network of defences,” Captain Ryman said.  “They’re quite an industrious race, Captain.  Treehouse isn't the production capital of the sector, but it’s definitely in the top five or six.  I doubt they will hesitate to join the Grand Alliance and add their productive capabilities to ours.”

 

“You already have ambassadors on the way,” Hoshiko guessed.

 

“I do,” Captain Ryman confirmed.  “But I have no explanation for why the Druavroks abandoned the siege.”

 

Hoshiko nodded, slowly.  The Druavroks had been convinced not to charge into the defences of Dab-Yam - at least, not
twice
- but they hadn't simply given up.  She’d had to lure them into a trap to end the threat they presented to the alien world.  There was no reason for them to abandon another siege, particularly if they knew Treehouse would join their enemies as soon as it could.

 

“They have a use for the ships elsewhere,” she said, finally.  “Here, perhaps?”

 

“It’s a possibility,” Captain Ryman said.  “If, of course, they take the Grand Alliance seriously.”

 

“We smashed one of their fleets and crushed the defences of one of their worlds,” Hoshiko said.  “They really
should
take us seriously.”

 

She sighed, inwardly.  The Tokomak hadn’t
just
been overwhelmingly superior, when they’d met the Druavroks; they’d beaten the living daylights out of them.  Hoshiko knew
she’d
hurt the Druavroks, but it wasn't anything like on the same scale.  And, for maximum effect, she had to hurt them badly in a single battle.

 

“We’ll mind our defences here, but concentrate on reloading the fleet,” she said.  “Do we have additional warships?”

 

“Several,” Captain Ryman confirmed.  “Along with a number of ancient starships we’re refurbishing and a Tokomak battlecruiser.”

 

Hoshiko frowned.  “A
Tokomak
battlecruiser?”

 

“It was apparently in storage near Glenda,” Captain Ryman said, “along with a number of other outdated ships.  Why, I don’t know.  They sent them along in the hopes we could put them to use.”

 

“Interesting,” Hoshiko said.  “Is she flyable?”

 

“With a little effort,” Captain Ryman said.  “Half of her weapons and defences were stripped out at some point, and her computer cores were removed, but we can replace them.”

 

“Then I may have a use for her,” Hoshiko said.  The Druavroks revered the Tokomak.  That had to be good for something, if she could find a way to exploit it.  “Have her brought back into fighting trim, as best as we can.”

 

“The problem is rigging up a control system,” Captain Ryman said.  “She doesn’t have anything like the automaton of other, more modern ships.  I think she actually predates the Tokomak expansion into the Sol Sector.  Controlling her in a battle would be tricky without a very large crew.”

 

“See what you can do,” Hoshiko ordered.  The idea wasn't gelled yet, but it would come in time.  “And let me know if there’s anything I can do on the diplomatic front.”

 

“Just keep winning battles,” Captain Ryman said.  “As long as it looks like we can turn the tide, the Grand Alliance will stay together.”

 

Hoshiko smiled.  “We’ll do our best.”

 

***

Thomas paused outside the XO’s office, feeling a worried sensation growing in his gut even though - this time - he wasn’t remotely late.  Indeed, the XO had given him a time instead of merely ordering him to report immediately, which suggested he wasn't in trouble.  And yet ... he reminded himself, impatiently, that spacers were brave and tapped the buzzer.  The hatch hissed open a moment later, allowing him to step inside.

 

“Ensign Howard,” the XO said.  He didn't sound pleased, although Thomas was sure it wasn’t directed at him.  “Did you enjoy your courier service?”

 

Thomas tried, for a moment, to think of the correct answer.  The truth was he hadn't enjoyed it, although it
had
given him a chance to catch up on his reading.  But was that the answer the XO wanted?  His tutors at the Academy had been fond of sneaky questions that doubled as secret tests of character, when he'd never been entirely certain what was being tested, let alone the purpose of the tests.  Speaking honestly might get him in trouble.

 

“It had its moments, sir,” he said, finally.  The chance to take a break on Amstar would have meant more to him if he’d had a chance to explore the city.  “Do you want me to take another set of messages?”

 

“Not this time,” the XO said.  He studied Thomas for a long time, leaving him feeling worried and antsy.  This was going to be bad.  “I understand that you applied for command track?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Thomas said. 
Everyone
wanted command - and, with the fleet constantly expanding, there was a good chance of winning a command within ten years.  The Captain was in her thirties, according to her file, and she had command of a whole squadron.  “I applied for command track after my first year at the Academy.”

 

“You’re also a commissioned officer,” the XO said.  “There’s a ... task that needs doing, one that needs a commissioned officer.  I should tell you, before I go any further, that the task is volunteers only.  If you turn it down, Ensign, it will not be noted in your file.”

 

And that might not be actually true,
Thomas thought.  The old sweats had warned him that refusing a mission would be held against him, even if nothing
was
officially
written down.  It would certainly suggest he didn't have the nerve to be a starship officer, let alone hold independent command. 
What does he want
?

 

“There are a number of small warships - patrol boats and frigates, mainly - that we’re currently outfitting for deployment as raiders,” the XO informed him.  “The crews will largely consist of humans recruited from the sector’s population as auxiliaries, but we’re short of local officers to command them.  Your role, if you choose to accept it, will be to command one of those ships.”

 

Thomas felt his mouth fall open.  Technically, he
could
wind up in command of
Jackie Fisher
, but any accident that wiped out every higher-ranking officer would almost certainly destroy the entire ship.  He hadn't expected to stand watch outside FTL, let alone take command of the ship in a potential combat zone.  There were just too many officers ranked above him.

 

“Sir?”

 

The XO smiled, although there was a hint of rueful annoyance in the expression.  “You will have command of a small vessel, with orders to raid enemy shipping,” he said, bluntly.  “If you don't feel you’re up to the task, say so now and nothing more will be said about it.”

 

Thomas swallowed, caught between a desire to grab the opportunity with both hands and a sudden urge to flee.  He had no illusions about his ability to command men, not when he had only four months in active service.  His tutors had talked about positional authority and personal authority and he had very little of the former, let alone the latter.  The thought of being in a courier boat was bad enough, when he was alone or only with a couple of others; being commander of a ship, at the age of nineteen, was worse.

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