The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) (23 page)

“Very well,” Hoshiko said.  She was tempted to ask just why he was uncomfortable - and to hell with politeness - but as long as he wasn't complaining, there was nothing she could do about it.  And yet, she was curious and a little concerned.  “If you don’t mind me asking ...”

“I was having sex,” Kratzok said, before she could finish the question.  “Hilde and I were breaking furniture when she was off-duty.”

It took Hoshiko a moment to place the name, but when she did she nodded in amused understanding.  Marines were reputed to be wild in the sack, although she’d never bedded one herself.  She
was
surprised that Kratzok hadn't used his nanites to smooth out the aches and pains, but it was his choice.

“I see,” she said.  “Now, what was your first question?”

***

“Welcome onboard, Commander,” a dark-skinned man said, as soon as the teleport field shimmered into nothingness.  “I’m Captain Markham.”

“Commander Wilde, Griffin Wilde,” Griffin said.  The freighter’s bridge was cramped, even though half the crew had been pulled out and reassigned to other ships.  “Thank you for volunteering for Task Force 6.1.”

“If I’d known what we’d be doing, I would have insisted on volunteering for one of the other task forces instead,” Markham said.  He clasped Griffin’s hand briefly, then nodded towards a console that had clearly been installed only a day or two ago.  “There won’t be much fame in this part of the operation, sir.”

“There will be, if it works,” Wilde said.  He tried to keep his doubts out of his voice.  The Captain’s plan, on paper, looked sound ... but there were too many moving parts for him to be completely happy with it.  “Is everything installed?”

“The hold is loaded, sir,” Markham confirmed.  “We were told not to even
look
at the devices for fear they might explode.”

“They might,” Griffin confirmed.  Markham was exaggerating, but not by much.  “Don’t even touch them until we’re ready to leave.”

“Of course, sir,” Markham said.  “Do you want to test the console?”

Griffin nodded as they walked over to the console.  “Did you have any problems installing it?”

“None,” Markham said.  “It’s basically separate from everything, but the fusion core; we didn't have to worry about linking it into the ship’s computer.  The downside is that it will be fairly clear to the enemy that
we’re
the flagship.”

“It shouldn't matter,” Griffin said.  “Task Force 6.1 isn't intended to come to grips with the enemy, not directly.”

“Let us hope so,” Markham said.  “A single warship would be able to wipe the entire task force out without trouble.”

They might get a nasty surprise
, Griffin thought, as he keyed the console and activated the datalink.  There were forty freighters in Task Force 6.1, each crammed to the gunwales with mines and improvised weapons. 
Hit one of the ships and it’ll go up with one hell of a bang.

He studied the datalink for a long moment, then nodded.  “We’ll start practicing the deployment pattern in an hour,” he said.  “And then we will be ready to depart with the rest of the fleet.”

“Of course, sir,” Markham said. 

Griffin gave him a sharp look.  “Are you so keen to hurt the enemy, Captain?”

Markham nodded.  “I had family on Amstar, Commander,” he said.  “There aren't many humans who’ve managed to amass the cash to put a deposit on a freighter, not there.  I was away for months at a time, just trying to build up a reserve of cash, and every time I came home it was a great party.  My wives and children were proud of me - I used to promise my eldest son a place on the ship when he was old enough ...”

His voice darkened.  “And then the Druavroks took over and my family vanished in the chaos,” he added.  “I wasn't there at the time.  I don’t know what happened to them, if they were killed or eaten or simply lost somewhere in all the madness, but the Druavroks either killed them or are responsible for their deaths.  So yes, I
do
want to hurt them.  I want to hurt them so badly they’ll
scream
.”

Griffin studied him for a long moment, then nodded.  “You’ll have your chance,” he said, quietly.  Markham’s determination to hurt the Druavroks was worrying - in his experience, a desire for revenge led to indiscipline - but it could be used.  “Now, if you don’t mind, we have to start drilling.”

***

“The fleet reports that it is ready to depart, Captain,” Lieutenant Bryon Yeller said.  “All units have acknowledged their orders.”

Hoshiko nodded.  Two days of intensive drilling, two days of trying to prepare for every possible eventuality ... soon, she’d see just how well it worked in practice.  They were only three days from Dab-yam.  She thought - she hoped - that the exercises had smoothed out the kinks in their formation, but she knew just how much could still go wrong.  There were too many different races and planets represented in her fleet.

“Alert the fleet,” she ordered, coolly.  “They are to jump to FTL on my mark.”

And hope to hell we don’t screw up the timing
, she added, mentally.  The Druavroks shouldn't be able to see Task Force 6.1 when it broke away from the remainder of the fleet, but if she was wrong ... well, she’d just have to improvise. 
And, if nothing else, we’ll win the defenders of the planet some time.

“The fleet has acknowledged, Captain,” Yeller said.  He sounded confident, at least, although he’d been spared detached duty.  Hoshiko had needed to keep most of her communications officers on her original ships.  “All ships are standing by.”

“Take us into FTL,” Hoshiko ordered.

She settled back in her command chair as the fleet rocketed into FTL, keeping her expression under control.  Wilde would play his part, she was sure, but would the Druavroks?  If she was wrong about them, the plan was going to end in an expensive failure ...

... And the Grand Alliance might just come apart at the seams.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Japanese Government has ordered compulsory pregnancy for every woman between 16 and 40 in order to cope with the country’s growing population crisis, in which over 70% of Japanese civilians are over 70.  However, as analysts have noted, they have done nothing about either the economic crisis or the democratic deficit that have forced Japanese youngsters to flee the country.

-Solar News Network, Year 54

“They’re launching another attack, Matriarch.”

Matriarch Yah-Sin would have snarled a curse if she thought it would have done any good, even though it would have set a bad example for the hatchlings.  Dab-yam’s government had thrown billions upon billions of interstellar credits at the planetary defence network, but constant attacks were steadily wearing it down.  The first attack had failed badly, so badly that even the Druavroks had thought better of trying it again, yet their current strategy was far more effective.  Depowered missile strikes, redirected asteroids ... even a single one, getting through the defences and into the atmosphere, would do a great deal of damage.  It could not be allowed.

“Order the Orbital Guard to intercept,” she ordered.  “And ready back-up forces if they’re required.”

She watched the display, grimly, as red icons roared down to meet green.  Her forces were growing tired and making mistakes, the constant tempo wearing them down until they could no longer muster the awareness to fight.  If the government had built warships instead things might be different, but her people had always been reluctant to get involved in galactic affairs.  Better to have a strong defence, the government had argued, and mind their own business.  But the Druavroks couldn't be dissuaded by solid walls, let alone a network of orbital battlestations, automated weapons platforms and a handful of refurbished warships. 

There’s definitely something to be said for taking the battle to them
, she thought, as more red icons flared into life on the display.  The Druavrok missiles didn't seem to be any better than hers, thankfully, but there were a lot of them. 
This way, they just keep wearing us down until we collapse
.

“Matriarch, five of their missiles are targeted on Fabber One,” the hatchling warned.  She was young for her role, but the more experienced officers had been farmed out to other positions in the defence grid.  Half of them were dead now.  “They’re trying to cripple the defences.”

“Order the automated platforms to prioritise defending the fabbers,” Yah-Sin ordered, ignoring the hatchling’s shock.  “Nothing else, even the planet itself, is to have a higher priority.  The fabbers must be preserved.”

She rubbed her feathers in irritation.  There was no choice.  Without the fabbers, the defenders would be unable to resupply their missile launchers and keep the enemy from hammering the grid at will.  But the Druavroks
had
effectively cut them off from all sources of raw materials.  Her people were working hard to shove debris from the endless battle into their insatiable maws, yet it wasn't enough.  The most optimistic projections suggested the planet’s defences would collapse in less than two weeks at most.

And if that happens, we are doomed
, she thought.  Her people had never been happy on other worlds, even when the Tokomak had introduced them to FTL and showed them the greater universe beyond their atmosphere.  There were only a handful of her kind off-world, nowhere near enough to serve as a breeding population. 
When Dab-Yam dies, we will die with her
.

“They’re launching a second set of projectiles,” the hatchling added.  “The mass drivers are spitting buckets of rock at us.”

Yah-Sin clacked her beak in acknowledgement.  She had to give the Druavroks credit; they weren't known for being imaginative, but they’d come up with a cheap way to keep her defences on their toes.  Bombarding the planet with mass drives seemed like an exercise in futility when pitted against modern defences, yet they forced her to keep her crews on their toes, blasting the projectiles - which were little more than scaled-up rocky KEWs - into vapour.  And a single failure would mean planetary devastation on a terrifying scale.

“Keep the defences online and engage them as soon as they come into range,” she ordered, tiredly. 
She
needed to sleep too.  “And alert me when they bring their fleet back into engagement range.”

***

“We’re reading Point Tsushima, Commander,” Markham said.  “FTL drive is ready to disengage.”

Griffin nodded.  The fleet - over two thousand starships - was flying in such close formation that the Druavroks shouldn’t be able to notice when a relative handful of ships dropped out of FTL, while the remainder continued to blaze towards the planet.  Or, at least, that was the plan.  It was the least of his quibbles with the whole operation that Task Force 6.1 would be completely out of touch with the rest of the fleet, leaving them to carry out their orders without knowing what had happened to Captain Stuart.  If something went wrong ...

“Disengage on the mark,” he ordered.  “And then prepare to start deploying the mines.”

“Aye, Commander,” Markham said.  The freighter shuddered, violently, as she dropped back into realspace.  “FTL disengagement, complete.”

Griffin tapped his console, hastily.  The remainder of the Task Force had made it out of FTL without incidents ... but then, he’d taken care to select the most reliable freighters after the first battle.  Markham wasn't the only one who wanted a little revenge.  He established the datanet, checked for emergency messages, then smiled coldly to himself.

“Start deploying the minefield,” he said.  “And once the mines are in place, ready the gravity-wave projector.”

And hope to hell the Captain is right
, he added, mentally. 
Because this could easily go very wrong
.

***

“Task Force 6.1 separated successfully,” Brown reported.  “Twenty minutes to designated emergence point.”

Hoshiko nodded, allowing herself a moment of relief.  Even a tiny misjudgement could have scattered Task Force 6.1 over hundreds of thousands of kilometres, ensuring that setting up the ambush would be worse than useless.  No one, not even Mongo Stuart himself, could have retrieved the situation.  But Wilde was now in place to kick some enemy ass, once she lured them into position.

“Take us out when we reach the designated emergence point,” she ordered.  She glanced at the reporter, sitting at the rear of the compartment, and shot him a reassuring smile before turning back to the display.  “Give me a countdown when we reach two minutes to emergence.”

She studied the display for a long moment, silently calculating possible enemy responses and wishing, again, that someone had invented an FTL sensor.  The Druavroks would see them coming, of course, but what would they do?  Assemble their fleet to fight off the threat, assume it was too powerful and retreat, or ... what?  Wait and see what arrived?  They’d be fairly sure her fleet was mostly freighters ...

Which won’t matter
, she reminded herself. 
They’ll have good reason to know there’s a fleet attacking them that includes thousands of freighters
.

“Five minutes, Captain,” Brown said.  “Countdown starting ... now.”

“Sound Red Alert,” Hoshiko ordered.  “All hands to Condition One.  I say again, all hands to Condition One.”

The final seconds counted down and the fleet burst back into realspace.  Hoshiko leaned forward as the display began to fill up with icons: red for the Druavroks, yellow for the Dab-Yam ... she hoped - prayed - that the Dab-Yam recognised them as friendly.  She had no intention of taking her ships anywhere near the planet’s defences until they’d opened communications, but the risk of friendly fire was dangerously high. 

And they may not be too keen on aliens these days
, she thought, as she took in the defences as they appeared on the display.  Dab-Yam had nine battlestations and hundreds of automated weapons platforms, although the analysts thought they were slowly being ground down by the Druavroks. 
They might just mistake us for a second predatory alien race.

“Long-range sensors are detecting over fifty battleships and four hundred smaller warships,” Brown reported.  “They also have mass driver installations on the moons and smaller starships in the asteroid belt.”

“Order Task Force 4.1 to cloak, as per Deployment Plan Beta,” Hoshiko said, as the Druavroks hastily assembled a formation.  They didn't seem to have been moving before her fleet actually arrived, something that puzzled her until she realised they’d probably expected her to drop out of FTL closer to the planet.  “The remainder of the fleet is to prepare to engage the enemy.”

Let them think we intend to fight a conventional engagement
, she reminded herself.  She had no idea if the Druavroks had ever heard of Napoleon, but they would certainly have read Tokomak tactical manuals. 
They’ll be happy to sit back and let us make a mistake
.

“Aye, Captain,” Brown said.  “They’re sweeping us with long-range sensors.”

“Spoof their ECM as much as possible,” Hoshiko said.  She doubted the Druavroks would be intimidated, even if she pretended her entire fleet was composed of battleships, but at least she could keep them guessing.  Besides, if they thought they held an unbeatable edge, they’d be less likely to do something unpredictable.  “And launch probes towards their formation.”

She glanced at the display, then keyed her console.  “Have you managed to get through to the planet?”

“Negative, Captain,” Yeller said.  “The Druavroks aren't using jamming, as far as I can tell, but we’re not getting any response, even using the Tokomak protocols.  It’s possible the command and control network has been altered or disrupted by the fighting.”

“Or that they’re not interested in talking,” Hoshiko said.  Everything she’d read about the Dab-Yam race had made it clear that they weren’t particularly sociable. 
She
certainly hadn't been able to avoid thinking that they looked like giant chickens, complete with feathers and eggs.  “Keep trying to get through to them.”

“Aye, Captain,” Yeller said.

Hoshiko watched grimly as the seconds ticked away.  Allowing the Druavroks a chance to mass their forces was a gamble, although she knew she couldn't have destroyed a smaller enemy force before its allies arrived to even the odds.  The Druavroks certainly didn't seem inclined to give her an incentive to move faster ... she smiled, rather thinly.  Napoleon had been quite right, after all.  Why interrupt the enemy when he was in the process of making a mistake?

She studied the long-range readings grimly.  Dab-Yam itself might be largely intact, but the Druavroks had ravaged the rest of the system badly.  There had been colonies on the outer worlds, according to the files, that no longer existed.  Her probes revealed craters on the surface where the colonies had been.  A number of asteroid settlements were gone - she hoped they hadn't been directed at the planet to force the defenders to waste their firepower - and the cloudscoop the Tokomak had established, centuries ago, was nothing but debris.  The Druavroks must have been frustrated, she decided.  They certainly hadn't tried to put the cloudscoop to use.

And the planet must be running short of HE3 too
, she thought, morbidly.  She’d heard stories of energy shortages from her grandfather and the other old sweats, but she’d never really believed them.  Energy in the Solar Union was cheap, clean and limitless.  And yet, it all depended on a supply of HE3 that could be easily interrupted.  Dab-Yam was completely dependent on the cloudscoop, unless the locals could find another source. 
They must be refining it from seawater, if they can
.

“The enemy fleet has formed up, Captain,” Brown reported.  “We will be entering our missile range in seven minutes; enemy missile range in nine minutes.”

Hoshiko smiled, coldly.  The Druavroks, like everyone else, had copied the Tokomak missiles, but humanity - and now its allies - had improved upon the original designs.  She doubted her first barrage would do
that
much damage, not when pitted against a colossal fleet of battleships, yet it would give the enemy a nasty shock.

“Prepare to engage,” she ordered.