Homeworld (Odyssey One) (49 page)

“It makes sense,” she said, “though the colonies don’t use such things in warfare. We do, however, for other dangerous endeavors. Mining, rescue operations, and similar situations.”

“We do as well,” Eric confirmed, “but drone warfare is outlawed on Earth, under international treaty.”

Kian paused, clearly confused. “But why?”

“Because you don’t need to risk lives,” Eric said with a shrug. “It’s counterintuitive, but when you see people through a computer display, they stop being people and start being numbers. You…do things to numbers that no sane or moral person would ever do to people. Last century, my own country did things that should never have happened.”

Eric closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly to push the images back. “Another thing that drone warfare does, though, is that it makes the people controlling them feel…safe. Untouchable. Invincible. If you lose a drone, who cares? No, the people behind this, they’re engaging in drone warfare writ large. They’re not going to be stopped just because we popped a few of their toys. They’ll keep coming until we start popping
them
.”

History was one of the things that Eric studied, both professionally and personally. He was an advocate of the expression that one must learn from history or be doomed to repeat it, though in his less optimistic moments he felt that if one did learn from history then you were doomed to watch
others
repeat it. Humanity, honestly, did very little that didn’t disappoint him as a whole.

Thankfully, there were plenty of people within the morass that made up for the rest.

On Earth, the United States didn’t shake itself loose of the cultural insanity of the so-called “war on terror” until drone technology became both cheap and ubiquitous enough that everyone had them. When your enemies could just as easily drop guided weapons on your head as you could on theirs, it was time to perhaps rethink your position.

That still left over three decades of cultural shame to overcome, in which the government ignored its own laws and even went so far as to assassinate its own citizens on the suspicion of what they
might
do at some point in the future. Eric still shivered at that. It was one thing to take someone out who was a clear and present threat. That was a righteous shoot to his mind, but if they weren’t a clear threat to someone or something he had a right to protect, then they were the problem of the police and not himself or his comrades.

He very much feared a culture that was treading that path while using drones that were flying and walking weapons of mass destruction like the Drasin. There was no mercy in a drone and a detached sense of humanity in its controller.

“So no,” he said again, “I’m very much afraid that they won’t be impressed at all by our little display, Captain.”

He considered for a moment, then continued, “Or at least not impressed in the right way.”

IMPERIAL DESTROYER
DEMIGOD
, APPROACHING HIVE

AS THE SHIP approached the Hive facility, Ivanth felt both apprehension and anger driving his every action. He’d spent the entire journey pouring over the scanner records, trying to comprehend what the hell had transpired but, other than some unusual trans-light signals that were likely targeting beams, there was
nothing
there to explain what happened.

He’d lost an entire flotilla of second-generation drone ships. Literally the only thing he could have done worse would be to have allowed his own ships to be caught in the trap the enemy had lain, but had he done that at least he wouldn’t have to answer for it. Without even an explanation for how the enemy had pulled off their action, he had little doubt that his position in the Force was essentially forfeit.

If I am very much lucky, I may be demoted and shipped off to some back-gravity sector where the rest of my career will be spent checking up on traffic to systems about which no one gives the abyss.

His thoughts had been running around those lines for every moment of the passage, and he only wished that he had many more of those moments left. Unfortunately, the gravity
scanners had picked up the Hive a long ways back and they now had it solidly on thermals.

“Commander….”

Ivanth looked up, weary and wary. “What is it?”

“We’ve not been challenged, but we’re within actual time range of the Hive.”

Ivanth leaned forward, scowling. “Are you certain?”

The look he got in return probably qualified as scathing, though it was well disguised. Honestly, while Ivanth would normally have brought an officer up on charges for looking at him like that, he supposed that he probably deserved it.

“Yes, Commander. I am certain.”

I am clearly too tired to be seated in this place if I am asking questions like that.

The ship would have registered the challenge automatically. It was impossible to have missed it. Ivanth rubbed the side of his face, biting back a comment that would probably make things worse.

“Fine. Is there anything odd on the scanners?”

“No, Commander.”

Ivanth frowned, now mostly puzzled rather than truly aggravated.

Security wasn’t as firm here when compared to many other places in the empire as only the truly insane would ever try and enter the Hive. Until the unknown ship had escaped, he’d have sworn it was a one-way trip. That said, when a ship was detected on approach, it was challenged. That was the protocol for any Imperial ship or base at the very lowest end of security.

Were his ships approached in open space, he would issue a challenge. The fact that none had been received was more than enough to stand the hairs on the back of his neck up on end.

The only way that would happen would be if the Prohuer and the remaining ships of the squadron had left the Hive. There were no missions on the schedule, however. We were still plotting the strategy for Ranquil’s conquest. Where would he be?

“How long until we penetrate the outer swarm?” he asked, his voice now tense with more than his own worries.

“Shortly. Can’t be certain without using active sensors. The swarm is well shielded from all but thermal. Should I?”

“No. No, do not engage active scanners,” he ordered, feeling silly as he did.

Nothing could happen here. It’s the
Hive
. There isn’t a force in the galaxy that could eliminate this many of the Drasin…not even third-generation and later drones. There just
isn’t.

Moments passed, stretching almost into eternity, while on the screens the thermal vision of the approaching swarm loomed larger and larger until they abruptly slipped through the cracks and into the outer Hive. Ivanth checked the sensors, mouth dry as he began to imagine what a fleet of those unknown starships could do.

We’ve only seen one, but who builds only
one warship?
There must be others.

The
Demigod
and the
Immortal
continued on their approach, sliding through the outer Hive in silence, not even sending updates to each other by unspoken assent. Something was wrong, Ivanth could feel it, and he had little doubt that most everyone with basic access to the scanners of the two ships could now feel it.

Did they come around while we were distracted in that system? Was it just a feint to pull us away from the Hive?

On the surface of it, that was an absurd thought. The
Immortal
and the
Demigod
were powerful ships and with their drone flotilla could shake entire star systems to their
foundations but, compared to the force in the Hive, they were nothing but children playing in a puddle.

The sheer numbers at the Hive were all but insurmountable by any force short of a full Imperial Battlegroup, and even a force as powerful as that would more likely as not never see its home port again.

“Piercing the inner swarm, Commander.”

“Give me a visual of the surrounding area,” he ordered.

“Yes, Commander.”

The inside of the Hive appeared largely as it had when he had left to join the
Demigod
, which didn’t surprise him. It took a lot to change a facility that existed on the scale of the Hive. Even the drones couldn’t do it in the short span he’d been away. It would take firepower the likes of which simply didn’t exist to damage it significantly. Really the only threat to the Hive was the star at its core, and since that was precisely where it was supposed to be, he could discount the possibility of a nova having killed everyone.

“Any communications?”

“No, Commander. Silence on all frequencies.”

Ivanth shuddered lightly, quickly getting a hold of his involuntary impulses. He examined the signals for a long moment before coming to a decision.

“Send a challenge, wide band, including trans-light.”

“Commander?”

“Challenge the Hive,” Ivanth ordered.

“Uh…yes, Commander.”

The signal went out from the
Demigod
and was instantly responded to by the
Immortal
’s computers. But long moments went by, turning into longer and longer moments with no response. Ivanth waited, and waited, and then waited more.

“Nothing. No drone response, no response from the Prohuer’s task force. Nothing,” Ivanth hissed, now admitting that his nerves were well and truly frayed. The entire spectrum was quiet, and it shouldn’t be. Even without the Prohuer’s task force in the area, assuming that wasn’t trouble enough, there should be incessant chatter across all the drone frequencies. But there wasn’t.

The two ships sailed past the inner swarm, scanners still on maximum passive as the systems deeply drank all radiation spectrums and tried to put an image together of the situation. The interior of the Hive looked exactly as it should—the star blazing at its center and the loose shields of the inner and outer swarms visible in the reflected light and radiation.

And yet it’s too quiet.

“Interlink our scanners and computers with the
Immortal
,” Ivanth ordered. “Begin a complete system scan, full active spectrum scanners.”

“Yes, Commander.”

What happened here?