The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) (20 page)

The Major snorted.  “You mean they were attempting to produce weapons?”

“No ... well, yes, but not in the way you think,” Locke said.  “They weren't actually producing
weapons
, they were producing components that could be made
into
weapons and then assembling them elsewhere.  The Tokomak didn't install an AI on the fabber, so there was nothing intelligent enough to realise that everything the Druavroks were fabricating could easily be misused.”

“How unusually cunning of them,” the Major commented.

“Someone else could have come up with the idea,” Max offered, before he could stop himself.  “One of their slaves, perhaps.  He might have thought it would buy him his freedom.”

“Or they copied the idea from the Tokomak themselves,” Hilde suggested.  “We know the Tokomak had plenty of time to study the chinks in their own defences.”

Max shrugged.  He didn't see why the Tokomak would build the fabbers, carefully programming them so they were only useful for civilian purposes, and then leave a deliberate loophole for their subjects to exploit.  Unless it was an intelligence test, with the race that successfully passed it marked for extermination.  The Tokomak wouldn't be interested in raising up potential rivals.

“Not that it matters,” the Major said.  “How much did they manage to produce?”

“I’m not sure,” Locke confessed.  “I’ve got a team of analysts studying the specs and trying to work out what the Druavroks could have produced, but it will take some time.  They could certainly have put together plasma cannons or antimatter containment fields with a little effort; I think they might have been able to construct mines, although missiles would be beyond the components they could produce here.”

“Antimatter mines would be a major headache,” Max commented.

“True,” Hilde said.

“Time to go back to work,” the Major said, loudly.  “Once the station has been swept, we’ll hand the fabber over to the engineers and return to the ship.”

Max kept his amusement to himself as they completed the sweep and then headed back to where they’d broken into the fabber.  A handful of crates had been opened, revealing a number of civilian-grade components.  Hilde speculated, out loud, that they were designed to serve as magnetic containment fields, either for superhot plasma or antimatter.  Either one, Max knew, would allow for any number of makeshift weapons.  The Druavroks might not have been able to crack the command codes for the fabber, but they’d certainly done the next best thing.

“Good luck,” the Major said, as the engineers teleported into the chamber.  “The fabber is all yours.”

Hilde caught Max’s attention.  “We’ll be teleporting directly into the quarantine chamber until the suits have been scrubbed,” she said, as the marines assembled for teleport.  “Do
not
crack your suit until we are sure there’s no biological hazard.  That toxin was
deadly
.”

“I understand,” Max said.

He said nothing as the teleport field picked them up and deposited them in a large white room, where the suits were scanned
thoroughly
for prospective threats.  The idea of a toxin getting loose on a Solar Union starship was alien - and, on the face of it, absurd - but it was wise to take precautions.  Hilde was right.  Whatever the Druavroks had used to kill their slaves, it had clearly been nasty enough to slaughter the poor bastards
despite
whatever medical nanites and genetic modifications they’d had.  By the time the suits were declared free of contamination, he had almost completed the first draft of his report.

The first report
, he corrected himself.  He’d watched enough of the battle though the ship’s sensors to have a fair idea of how everything had gone, although he’d check before sending the report off on the next courier boat. 
The folks back home will have to understand that these monsters will need to be fought.

“You can open your suit now,” Hilde said, dryly.  Max started, shocked out of his silent musings.  “We’ll make sure it gets back to the rack.”

Max frowned, disapprovingly.  He’d been taught, back when he’d been in the service, that the wearer of the suit was the person responsible for taking care of it.  His former CO would have blown a gasket if he’d seen Max handing the duty over to anyone, even a marine.  But Hilde had flatly refused to allow him to do it for himself.  He didn't have the years of intensive training the marines had had before they donned their suits and took them into combat.

He opened his suit and clambered out.  Hilde stood in front of him, wearing a dark overall that showed off her muscles and the shape of her body.  He couldn't help feeling small in front of her, even though he was slightly taller than average.  She checked the suit, nodded to him and started to key commands into the onboard processors.  The suit turned and clanked towards the hatch on its own.

“I’ll catch up with you later, if you want a few more interviews,” she said, glancing back at him.  “Unless I managed to put you off last time.”

“You didn’t,” Max assured her.  “But I need to get the first report ready to go before the courier boat leaves.”

Chapter Nineteen

Texan forces, according to a news bulletin released by Austin, have trapped and annihilated a Mexican armoured column that successfully forced its way across the Rio Grande.  The Governor reportedly issued orders to refrain from taking prisoners after Mexican troops looted, raped and murdered their way through a number of settlements along the border.  As yet, there has been no word from the Mexican Government ...

-Solar News Network, Year 54

“All things considered,” Hoshiko said, “it was a successful operation.”

She looked up at the display and studied it for a long moment, then looked back at her XO, who was seated at the far side of the cabin.  He hadn't been too keen on the whole offensive, but even
he
had to admit that it had been a success.  They’d smashed three battlestations, seven starships and an uncertain number of shuttles and automated platforms in exchange for a handful of converted freighters.  By any reasonable standard, she knew, it had been the most one-sided victory since the Horde had tried to attack Earth in Year 10.

“And something they cannot ignore,” Wilde said, curtly.  “How many of them did we kill?”

Hoshiko shrugged.  It was hard to care after they’d found out what had happened to the slaves on the fabbers ... or, for that matter, when the drones had made it clear that very few members of the planet’s population were anything but Druavroks.  They might have been the majority population before the Tokomak withdrew, yet they hadn't been the
only
settlers.  They’d slaughtered the other settlers almost as soon as they’d found themselves independent and abandoned.

“We now have three more fabbers,” she added.  “As we have no intention of keeping the system, we’ll tow them out into interstellar space and make use of them there.  The remainder of the out-system infrastructure can be destroyed.”

“Clever,” the XO said.  He didn't sound pleased.  “And supplying them is going to be a pain.”

“The only other alternative is destroying them,” Hoshiko reminded him.  “I’d prefer to at least
try
to get some use out of the fabbers.”

She glanced down at the manifest the intelligence staff had pulled from the fabber.  The Druavroks had been producing all sorts of components, some of which were giving her ideas for later tricks.  Putting together an entire antimatter production station out of spare parts was mildly impressive, she had to admit; they’d neatly bypassed the security protocols without ever hacking into the computer cores.  It was a shame she hadn't been able to capture the station intact, but the Druavroks had turned off the containment fields as soon as her shuttles approached, blowing the structure into atoms.  They’d just been lucky the bastards hadn't turned the
moons
into antimatter storage facilities.

Although theirs was the only planet at risk
, she thought, wryly. 
Maybe that was a step too far even for them
.

“I want to load the antimatter storage pods and everything else onto the freighters, then ship them back to Amstar,” she said.  “They’re useless without antimatter, but I think I’ve had an idea about what we can do with them.”

“There’s an antimatter production station at Amstar,” the XO said.

“And a fabber capable of producing a few more surprises,” Hoshiko agreed.  She gave him a devilish smile.  It was his
job
to serve as the Doubting Thomas, it was his job to question her decisions ... but she half-wished he could open himself up to the idea.  “We may have turned the Grand Alliance into a reality, Griffin, but we still have a long way to go.”

She sent a command to the room’s processor, replacing the in-system display with a holographic starchart.  “I’m going to be sending a report and most of the supplies to Amstar, but I think we should be going elsewhere,” she added, slowly.  “I want to take advantage of their surprise and launch an attack on Dab-yam.”

“Which is under siege,” Wilde said, sharply.  “The Druavroks will have a major force present in the system, Captain.”

“But not an overpowering one, not if they haven’t already taken the system,” Hoshiko pointed out.  “I believe we could give them a nasty shock.  At the very least, we might open up a channel to run more supplies to the defenders.  They only have a single military-grade fabber and they have to be running short of supplies.”

“True,” the XO agreed.  “But taking our rather ragged force up against a full-sized fleet of enemy warships is asking for trouble, Captain.”

“I know,” Hoshiko said.  She picked up a datapad and passed it to him.  “That’s why I intend to ask Amstar to put together one of these for me.”

The XO’s eyes narrowed.  “Captain, with the greatest of respect ...”

“The secret is already out,” Hoshiko said.  She'd anticipated his objections.  “The Tokomak know what happened to them, Commander.  Our allies near Sol also know.  I doubt it will be long before they start producing gravity-well generators of their own.  This is probably the one chance we have to use one to score a complete surprise.”

The XO met her eyes.  “And if you’re wrong?”

Hoshiko shrugged, keeping her concern off her face.  The Tokomak might well have won the Battle of Earth, even if their ships had been old and primitive, if they hadn't run straight into an artificial gravity field.  And Hammerhead missiles ...
they
, at least,
were
a secret she had no intention of sharing with her allies.  The principles wouldn't be hard to deduce, but she’d be lucky to escape execution if she came home and admitted she’d given away one of the Solar Union’s most closely-held secrets.

“Then I will likely be court-martialled and marched out an airlock,” she said.  “But we need to use our handful of advances to best possible effect, Griffin, while we still have them.”

She looked back at the starchart.  “We don’t have enough starships to make a real difference,” she added.  “All we can really do is use our technology to assist our allies, build up their fighting power and support them where necessary.  And, if we can keep the Druavroks off balance, we can eventually build up a fleet that will stop them in open battle and take the offensive to their homeworld.”

“I hope you’re right,” Wilde said.  He looked down at the deck for a long moment.  “But I would still like to register my objections in your log.”

Hoshiko kept her face blank with an effort.  A recorded objection almost certainly meant a Board of Inquiry when the squadron returned home and Fleet Command started parsing its way through their records.  It could mean the end of Commander Wilde’s career, if Fleet Command thought he’d overstepped himself, and the end of hers if they didn’t.  And they’d be judging everything she did with the benefit of hindsight.

Posterity can take care of itself
, she told herself, sharply. 
All I can do is make what seems the best decisions at the time
.

“If that is your decision, I won’t try to stop you,” she said, finally.  She couldn’t help feeling as if he’d knifed her in the back.  “I will, of course, record the reasons for my command decisions in the log too.”

“Understood,” Wilde said.

Hoshiko cleared her throat, changing the subject.  “The main body of the fleet will head to the Paradox System,” she said.  “It’s a bare two light years from Dab-yam, which will give us a chance to send a spying mission into the target system and confirm the presence of enemy warships.  We can also alert the defenders, if we can make contact, that we’re going to try to slip supplies through the blockade.”

“I would be surprised if we had a hope in hell of defeating them,” Wilde said.  “They must have a hard core of battleships there.”

“I’m not planning a conventional engagement,” Hoshiko said.  Wilde was right.  A conventional battle with enemy warships could only have one outcome.  “I intend to bait a trap.”

She keyed the datapad.  “I want a few more supplies from Amstar,” she added.  “Assuming there are no unexpected delays, Commander, they should reach us at Phoenix at least a day or two before the planned offensive.  Then, with a little careful preparation, we should have a chance to bait a trap.”

Commander Wilde took the datapad.  “They may hesitate to hand all of these over, Captain,” he warned.  “The antimatter alone ... they’re going to be churning it out as fast as they can for missile warheads.”

“I know it’s a risk, Commander,” Hoshiko said.  “But if the operation succeeds, we’ll give them one hell of a bloody nose.

“And there’s another point,” she added.  “It’s time to start sending raiding ships into their space, just to keep them off balance.  The more we can force them to react to us, the better.”

“Or goad them into launching an all-out attack on us,” Wilde pointed out.

Hoshiko smirked.  “Where will they go?  Sol’s six months away at best possible speed, Commander, and the Solar Union will have plenty of warning.”

“Amstar,” Wilde said.  “Or Martina.”

“Perhaps,” Hoshiko said.  “But the longer they wait, the tougher the defences will be.”

“If Martina manages to put together a shared defence force,” Wilde said.  “The last report said they were still stalling.”

“True,” Hoshiko agreed.  “But we have time to convince them to work with us.”

She looked back at the display.  “I want Ensign Howard and his courier boat to take the message to Amstar,” she added.  “Captain Ryman will need to be briefed and he may as well get the briefing from someone he already knows.  Then the ensign can head to the RV point at Phoenix and pass on his response.”

“He’ll need at least one other person assigned to the courier boat,” Wilde pointed out.  “He may be able to handle the ship completely on his own, in theory, but he’ll be alone for ten days. 
Not
a good idea.”

“Not if he refused courier service,” Hoshiko agreed. 

It wasn't a pleasant thought.  Couriers were paid well over the odds, far more than anyone below the rank of commander, but it was still hard to attract new recruits.  She'd heard, through the grapevine, that Fleet Command was seriously considering trying to find other rewards for couriers.  It said something about the sheer unpleasantness of the job that hardly anyone bitched about the couriers being favoured by their superiors.

“See to it,” she ordered.  “He can depart in” - she glanced at the display - “five hours.  The fleet itself will leave in two days.  We should be at Phoenix for at least a week before he joins us, with the supplies following after.”

“If they do,” Wilde said.

“They will,” Hoshiko said, seriously.  “After what we did here, in this system, the Grand Alliance is very definitely a going concern.”

***

“Well,” Hilde said, as she stepped into his cabin.  “You did manage to write a decent report, after all.”

Max looked up from his desk.  The cabin was small, although any inclination he might have had to complain about it had been stifled by the realisation that only Captain Stuart and Commander Wilde had bigger compartments to themselves.  But it suddenly seemed a great deal smaller as Hilde made her way into the compartment, the hatch hissing closed behind her.  She seemed to take up a great deal of room, merely by being here.

“Thank you,” he said.

“I was particularly fond of some of the more descriptive phrases you used for our dead enemies,” Hilde added.  She sat down on the deck, crossing her legs.  Her muscles strained against her overalls.  “I’m sure some humourless bastard will make a fuss about it.”

“It’s hard to show sensitivity to aliens who are responsible for billions of deaths,” Max commented. 
That
sort of stupidity was mercifully absent from the Solar Union, for the most part.  Needing to maintain the environment with great care tended against it.  “What one does in private is one’s own business, but what one does in public is the public’s business.”

“The Druavroks feel differently, of course,” Hilde observed.