The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) (30 page)

They’ll have to melt the rock down once she’s inside the maw
, he thought. 
And that would destroy the containment system ...

The fabber exploded with stunning force, a chain of explosions ripping the giant structure apart and leaving nothing apart from tiny pieces of debris drifting down towards the planet’s atmosphere.  A small explosion might have been contained, even by GalTech, but nothing - not even a human force field - could have hoped to save the fabber, once the containment field failed.  Thomas watched, smiling coldly, as the Druavroks went on alert, hunting for an enemy attacker that was nowhere to be found.  They didn't have a hope of detecting
his
ship, not unless they got very lucky.

“How long will it take them,” he asked out loud, “before they deduce the truth?”

“Unknown, sir,” Octavo said.  “The force of the explosion will certainly tell them that
antimatter
was involved, but they may feel the projectile was rigged at the mining station.”

“Then sneak us out of the system,” Thomas ordered.  He hesitated, then shook his head.  “No, belay that order.  Take us towards the asteroid station.”

“Aye, sir,” Octavo said.  He sounded puzzled, but obedient.  “We’ll be nearby in forty minutes.”

Thomas leaned back in his chair, thinking hard.  What would
he
do if he thought the asteroid’s crew had deliberately rigged the projectile? 
He’d
send a ship to arrest the crew, then subject the poor bastards to a merciless interrogation.  Or, for that matter, maybe just shout questions at them.  GalTech was perfectly capable of producing perfect lie detectors for humans, after all.  There was no reason to assume it couldn't do the same for Druavroks.  No, the crew would be interrogated, found innocent and then released, while the Druavroks started a hunt for a mystery starship. 

And if they think they are facing dissent in the ranks
, he thought, as he watched the Druavroks flurry around the system, locking the barn door long after the horse had bolted,
they may spend too much time watching their backs
.

“Launch a probe at the asteroid,” he ordered.  “And route the results direct to my console.”

“Aye, sir,” Octavo said.

Thomas watched, grimly, as two enemy warships left the planet, heading directly for the asteroid mining complex, then turned his attention to the live feed from the probe.  The complex
definitely
reminded him of some of the early Solar Union structures, a handful of tunnels carved into the rock and sealed to provide a habitat barely worthy of the name.  He smiled, remembering some of the stories from the old sweats, about how they’d spent five or six months at a time digging for ore, then heading home to spend their bonuses in the brothels on Luna City.  His grandfather had been an asteroid miner and he’d had some
very
interesting stories to tell.

“I’m reprogramming a missile,” he said, keying his console.  He’d never reprogrammed a missile outside simulations, but he knew the basic theory.  Normally, a missile would race to its target as fast as possible, trying to outrace or outsmart any counterbattery fire.  Now, though, he wanted the missile to be almost unnoticeable.  “Stand by to fire one.”

“Aye, sir,” Octavo said.

Thomas finished his task, then hesitated.  He had no compunction over killing the enemies of humanity - and the Druavroks were the enemies of
everyone
- but did the asteroid miners deserve to die?  The fabber crews had
needed
to die - even if there had been some way to get them off the fabber before it had been too late, they would have been moved to another fabber - yet was that true of the miners?  For all he knew, they were just attempting to make a living by shipping rock ore home.  Did they need to die?

He stared down at the console.  If the miners survived, the Druavroks would deduce the truth, once they eliminated the miners as possible suspects.  There would be literally no other alternative, not since natural antimatter was rarer than hen’s teeth.  The odds of a pocket of antimatter surviving at the heart of an asteroid were beyond calculation, so much so that it simply
didn't
happen outside children’s sims designed to teach them about the nature of the universe.  No, the miners had to die so they could take the blame.  There was no other outcome ...

Unless we want them to know we’re on the prowl
, he thought.  Part of the reason so many ships had been sent to slip into enemy-held systems was to keep the enemy on the alert. 
It would make them worry about their rear-area security
.

He sighed. 
What would Captain Stuart do
?

The asteroid mining station was hardly an important target, not in its own right.  There was nothing stopping the Druavroks from establishing another, or just using a starship to tow an asteroid to the fabber and have it sliced up there.  The fabber would take years to replace, certainly without the codes that permitted the fabber to duplicate itself; the station wouldn't take long to replace at all, even without a fabber ...

“Pull us back,” he ordered, hoping desperately that he’d made the right call.  It would have been a great deal easier if the miners had been shooting at him.  “We’ll find another ship leaving the system and shadow her out.”

“Aye, sir,” Octavo said.

There was no condemnation - or agreement - in his voice.  Octavo probably had an opinion - everyone had opinions - but he wouldn't voice it.  And yet, Thomas knew he’d always be haunted by his choice.  All he could was hope, in the end, that he’d made the right one.

And that it doesn't come back to haunt me
, he thought, silently. 
And that Captain Stuart understands why I did what I did
.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The Alliance for the Preservation of the United States carried out a number of air strikes against targets within California, followed by an air drop of weapons and supplies to various militia forces currently struggling to defend their territory against gangbangers and irregular forces from the cities.  Reports from the cities report that the average civilian no longer has enough to eat or drink, while the streets are completely unsafe ...

-Solar News Network, Year 54

“We need to go back on the offensive, of course,” Hoshiko said.

Griffin kept his face impassive with an effort.  It had been two weeks since the probe - or the reconnaissance in force, if that was what it had been - and the Captain was growing antsy, eager to resume the offensive.  Amstar hadn't been attacked, the Druavroks remained suspiciously quiet and the Grand Alliance was growing stronger.  He couldn't help wondering if the Druavroks were looking for another angle of attack, hoping their enemies would let down their guard if months passed without a further offensive, or if they were merely gathering their forces for a major attack.  Either way, the Captain had no intention of just
giving
them the time to prepare their forces.

“Amstar is strongly held, at the moment,” Hoshiko continued.  “And they haven’t launched an attack.”

“Yet,” Griffin said.  “They
could
have a major force lurking just outside detection range, hoping we’d uncover Amstar for them.”

“It’s a possibility,” Hoshiko conceded, reluctantly.  “But even
they
would have problems keeping a fleet on standby for so long, so far from their bases.”

She eyed the display.  “
And
we’ve pushed recon ships out several light months from the planet,” she added.  “If there
is
an enemy fleet lurking in the interstellar depths, they’re not sending courier boats back to their homeworld.”

“They could just be waiting,” Griffin pointed out.  “Those cruisers might well have concealed the arrival of another ship, one watching us from a distance.  Or they might have slipped a spying mission into the system, under the guise of a freighter passing though.”

“Assuming they can get someone willing to work for them,” Hoshiko countered.  She gave him a mischievous smile.  “It isn't as though we’re allowing Druavrok ships to enter the system to trade.”

“It would be easy,” Griffin said.  “You just hold a spacer’s family hostage until he returns with the intelligence you need.  They may not think
quite
like us, Captain, but they do have working brains.”

“We can’t stay here either,” Hoshiko said.  She nodded towards the display.  “The enemy have, according to the intelligence reports, been running supplies into the Palsies System and tightening their blockade.  And it’s only a two-week flight from Amstar.”

“Two weeks is a long time in interstellar warfare,” Griffin said.  “If they
are
bracing themselves for an attack on Amstar ...”

“We can still hold the planet,” Hoshiko insisted.  “They’d bleed themselves white trying to retake it, now the defences are stronger than they ever were.  And every day they refrain from launching an attack the stronger the defences
get
.  The main body of the Grand Fleet can leave, Commander, while the defences and support fleet hold the line.”

She altered the display, drawing out flight vectors.  “We’ll depart on a course that suggests we’re heading deep into their territory,” she said.  Griffin knew she’d been considering a deep-strike operation, but there was just too much chance of the enemy launching a major counter-offensive once they noticed the Grand Fleet was gone.   “We’ll drop out of FTL
here
, two light years from Amstar, and wait.  If the Druavroks
do
have a fleet lurking somewhere nearby, just waiting for us to uncover Amstar, we’ll be in position to get back to the system and take them by surprise.”

“They may see us coming,” Griffin said.

“It can’t be helped,” Hoshiko pointed out.  “There’s no way we can sneak an entire fleet back into the system without being detected.

“If no enemy fleet materialises, we’ll alter course and head straight for Palsies.  Once there, we trap the enemy ships against the planet’s defences and smash them before pulling out and heading straight for Amstar.  If nothing goes wrong, we can then reload the ships and head to the next world under siege.  The Druavroks will have to respond to us, which will give the rest of the Grand Alliance more time to prepare their defences.”

“And build more warships,” Griffin said.  He had a great deal of respect for the spacers who would take freighters up against capital ships, but he was too experienced an officer to believe they had a chance in a straight fight.  “We’re going to need them.  And more trained officers and crew.”

He sighed.  Training crewmen up to Solar Navy standards would take at least two years, assuming the infrastructure was put together at astonishing speed and the training officers were found from somewhere.  Ideally, he would have sent the recruits back to Sol to attend the Academy, but that was obviously impossible.  All he could really do was pull the training simulators out of the ships, assign a handful of crewmen to supervise and make sure the newly-minted crewmen received a
lot
of supervision on the job.

Not that they’ll be having it on the squadron
, he thought, grimly. 
Even Captain Stuart hasn't overridden the prohibition on allowing non-Solarian crewmen to serve on our ships.

“We’ll overcome the problems,” Hoshiko assured him.  “Did you imagine we’d get this far?”

Griffin shook his head.  He had no illusions.  The squadron had accomplished miracles, simply by taking the enemy by surprise, but the Druavroks were ready for them now and they
still
had hundreds of warships.  Perhaps more, if they were throwing all of their resources into building up their fleet.  They
were
a highly aggressive race, after all.  The
real
question was if the Grand Alliance could out-produce the Druavroks before the Druavroks pushed forward and smashed it flat.

But we took the limiters off the fabbers
, he reminded himself. 
Our industrial base will grow more powerful - much more powerful - over time.

“I’m merely worried about the future,” he said.  “We
still
have no word from Sol.”

“We won’t for at least another eight months,” Hoshiko reminded him.  “And even then, they’ll only know we set off to liberate Amstar and stop a genocide.”

Griffin shook his head slowly.  Everything they’d done ... it might look very good, when they got back home, but that wouldn't be enough to keep them from an inquiry.  His career - her career - might come to a screeching halt.  Assuming, of course, that the human race didn't have too many other concerns.  The Druavroks might win the war, snatch control of the fabbers and the unlocking codes and then start advancing towards Sol.  They’d certainly have a murderous grudge against the Solar Union.

“We’ll be fine,” Hoshiko said.

She cleared her throat.  “Inform the fleet that we will be departing in two days,” she ordered, looking back at the display.  “That should be
just
enough time to recall the crew from the fleshpots of Amstar, correct?”

“
Just
enough,” Griffin agreed, gravely.  The humans on the planet had been more than
merely
welcoming.  They’d taken the spacers into their homes ... hell, a string of romances had already broken out.  In the long-term, he had a feeling that some of them would lead to marriage.  “Captain, if they
do
have someone watching the system ...”

“Put the system into lockdown as soon as we issue the recall order,” Hoshiko said.  “It won’t be enough to make
certain
the enemy can’t slip a message out, but at least we can detect any ship leaving the system.”

“Aye, Captain,” Griffin said.  He rose.  “I’ll get started at once.”

***

“Take us out of FTL,” Hoshiko ordered, quietly.

She leaned back in her command chair as the display rapidly filled with stars - and the endless wastes of interstellar space.  It was rare, even for spacers, to gaze on the emptiness of interstellar space, light years from the light and warmth of a star.  She’d heard stories of aliens who refused, for incomprehensible reasons, to use FTL and insisted on flying between the stars at sublight speed, but surely even they were reluctant to stare into the darkness.  It made her feel small.

Pushing the thought aside, she watched the display as the sensors probed for flickers of gravimetric pulses that might announce the presence of an enemy fleet.  There was nothing, but that was meaningless.  The Druavroks might not have noticed - yet - that the fleet had departed ... or they might be on the other side of Amstar, well out of detection range.  Or, for that matter, they might have tracked the fleet itself and guessed it was a trap.  Assuming, of course, there
was
an enemy fleet lurking near the system.

But the more complex a tactical plan
, she reminded herself,
the greater the chance of something going wrong.

She scowled at the thought.  She’d studied the Tokomak tactical manuals at the Academy, but they’d struck her as unimaginative, if not stupid.  The Tokomak hadn't bothered to come up with fancy tactics, not when they wielded the biggest stick in the known universe. 
Their
favoured tactic was merely to locate the enemy homeworld, launch an overwhelmingly powerful fleet towards it and force the defenders to stand in defence of their world, absorbing whatever losses were necessary to crush all resistance.  They certainly didn't try to come up with clever tactics to knock a stronger foe off balance or avoid casualties as much as possible ...

We came up with more ideas than them before we even made it into space
, she thought, crossly. 
Surely they had more ideas before they came up with the FTL drive
.

The thought chilled her to the bone.  Admiral Stuart - Uncle Mongo - was
still
in overall command of the Solar Navy, a post he’d held since Year 1.  Admittedly, he’d built the Solar Navy up from a handful of outdated Galactic starships to a force that could take on the Tokomak and win, but he was
still
in command.  What would happen, in the long run, if he
never
left command?  It was possible, in theory; human-grade genetic enhancements and nanites conferred effective immortality, barring accidents.  And what would happen when young and ambitious officers discovered that the pathway to the top was permanently blocked?

She scowled.  The younger Tokomak had certainly become inured to waiting their turn, even though they had to know their turn might never come.  But humans?  Humans were aggressive, scheming bastards.  How long would it be before junior officers were literally plotting to murder their senior officers?  The Solar Union trained its officers to be aggressive, competent and determined, not to give up at the first hitch.  What would happen when the Solar Navy stopped its steady expansion and there were fewer billets for experienced officers and crewmen?  Human history suggested it wouldn't be pleasant.

“Captain,” Brown said.  “I have not detected any ships leaving Amstar.”

Hoshiko nodded.  The lockdown - a ban on all ships departing the system without permission - should have made it impossible for any prowling spy ship to use an innocent freighter as cover for a daring escape.  They’d have to leave on their own, ensuring their detection.  But it nothing showed up ...

You can't prove a negative
, she thought, crossly. 
There’s no way to know there isn't an enemy fleet lurking near the system.

She ground her teeth in irritation.  She understood why Commander Wilde and the other doubters wanted to be careful, but - in many ways - an enemy attack on Amstar would be a dream come true.  The Druavroks might break through to high orbit and regain the planet, yet the victory would come at staggering cost.  They’d be crushed the moment she returned with the Grand Fleet.  And besides, she
wanted
- she
needed
- to go back on the offensive.  Giving up the initiative was nothing less than accepting eventual defeat.  She had space to trade for time, but the Grand Alliance might not feel the same way.