by John Ringo
"You believe the analysis given to High Command to be accurate?" ZiDavas said.
"Perhaps understated," Beor said.
"Then you should find this interesting," ZiDavas said, handing her a data pad.
Beor contemplated it for a moment and then looked very puzzled.
"Permission to speak frankly, DeArch?"
"Permitted," ZiDavas said. "Within reason."
"I understood the purpose of the previous attack," Beor said. "Using the planned loss of a few Aggressors to remove a potential threat to the Imperium was completely comprehensible. But this plan..." She paused, clearly trying to puzzle out the purpose.
"Beor," ZiDavas said. "Your occasional enthusiasms not withstanding, you have the makings of a very good Kazi. But I would give you a piece of professional counseling."
"DeArch?"
"Sometimes it is simply not worth trying to figure out the purposes of the Kazim. Things you are not to know. Things you don't want to know."
—|—
"Star Marshall," To'Jopeviq said, looking at the plan. His voice was somewhat lower in register than normal. The Rangora hissed and shrieked before attacking. Going lower was a sign of distress, not anger.
"This is... below our best case estimate."
"Yes, it is somewhat below the projection," Star Marshall Lhi'Kasishaj said. "But plenty of power for the purpose. The assault vectors are the most powerful ships ever created. We will be able to defeat this Troy with ease."
To'Jopeviq decided not to point out that he was a veteran of such assaults. He knew exactly how powerful an AV was. And exactly how much power it took to overcome one. The Star Marshall was not nearly as confident as normal, To'Jopeviq couldn't help but notice.
"You do not have full control of the battle," To'Jopeviq noted.
"I will be... observed by High Marshall Lho'Phirukuh," Lhi'Kasishaj said, distastefully. "There is no question as to my full capacity to lead, you understand. It is simply that the marshall was somewhat... stung by the previous defeat of the Aggressor fleet. There was some strenuous argument, but he insisted. And in the end, Command acquiesced."
"Star Marshall..." To'Jopeviq said, then paused. He understood Beor's rationales for the last debacle. He had even managed, quelling decades of training, to come to a weak agreement. If the High Command saw it necessary to sacrifice sixteen Aggressors to keep the Empire from going through another civil war, so be it.
In this case, though, he was in an impossible position. Not only was the attack likely to fail, probably losing more than one assault vector, but the person most likely to be blamed was his own patron.
"Star Marshall," To'Jopeviq repeated. "I must strongly recommend that you do not accept this position absent heavier forces. These numbers are simply untenable given any reasonable estimate of the Terran forces."
"There are things you don't know, To," the Star Marshall said. "Things you are not supposed to know but I don't suppose there is any harm in telling you. Things are not going quite as well as they appear. Five Glatun systems were never conquered by our forces. Two surrendered on orders from the new Council of Benefactors. Three still hold out. Those take priority. They must be reduced before more vectors can be made available."
"Then we should wait to attack Earth until there is sufficient force," To'Jopeviq said, trying to contain his surprise. Although everyone knew the news was only a guideline, such a huge cover-up was bound to be common knowledge sooner or later. And that could present some large problems for High Command.
"That was not the decision of Command," Lhi'Kasishaj said, bobbing his head. "And we are Rangora warriors, yes? So we follow our orders."
"Very well, Star Marshall," To'Jopeviq said. "In this life we are dead. We are sacrifices to the glory of the Emperor."
"I will see you when I return!" Lhi'Kasishaj said, suddenly his old self. "And we will celebrate my victory!"
"I look forward to it, Star Marshall."
—|—
"This is... quite an assembly," Gorku said.
The room, as usual with Troy, was vast. Also cold. The two financiers were wearing cold-weather coats against the chill. They didn't need suits because, unusually for something this large, the room was pressurized.
"It was a bit hard to start," Tyler said. "But once we got going it got easier."
The room was filled with rack upon rack of cubicles cut from the walls of Troy. Each cubicle contained one free-standing power system of various outputs and a laser emitter of matching output.
Arrayed through the racks were interconnected steel pipes ranging from a hand span across to, towards the end, the size of a major water main. Each of the small pipes was connected to a laser emitter. A couple of angles and it was connected to a larger pipe. And larger and larger. Except for the occasional plate of sapphire in the sides, it looked like a sewer system. There were, in fact, more pipes than emitters. And more were being installed as the two magnates watched, a continuous flow of pipes being lifted into place, aligned then welded. Just as more emitters were being lifted into place, connected to power systems, connected to pipes...
"How much power?" Gorku asked.
"As of this morning...?" Tyler said. "Nine hundred and eighty-three terawatts. Not a patch on SAPL but pretty good. With the new workers, we're increasing the rate of installation. That's always the bottleneck."
"Where are they all coming from?" Gorku asked, walking over to one of the closer cubicles and examining the emitter. It was large. One of the largest he'd ever seen. "This is a Rangora emitter!"
"Main gun emitter from an Aggressor," Tyler said, gesturing to several of the local systems. The big ones were on the deck level. "We were only able to acquire four of those in good enough shape to use, unfortunately. But as soon as Hephaestus and Granadica finish Fabber Three we're going to install Hephaestus in the Troy and he'll have a primary job of making heavy emitters. Those three..." Tyler said, gesturing to another cluster, "are Glatun designs. The main gun emitters from Deudoc dreadnoughts. Ninety terawatts apiece. Very nice."
"And you combine it to one beam," Gorku said, rippling his fur. "One beam."
"As I said, not a patch on SAPL," Tyler said. "But nice enough."
"The work on the main door?" Gorku asked.
"A rapid closing system," Tyler said. "We're going to use an explosive system to close it. Thus the—"
"Springs," Gorku said. "You're going to have to use a lot of explosives."
"Explosives are cheap," Tyler said. "Bit cold in here, care to take a walk?"
—|—
"Since we got the second missile fabber installed we've been able to refill from what we used in the last battle," Tyler shouted. The room was noisy with clattering missiles jostling each other for space. That was mostly taking place at the top of the stacks, two hundred meters up. The lower portions were solidly packed. But since they were looking down from the upper observation deck, that was barely a hundred meters away. "And more."
"How many?" Gorku asked.
"Hundred and eighty thousand," Tyler said. "We're shooting for the full two twenty-five by the end of the month. Probably won't make it, we're having to use the fabbers for fiddly bits for the other construction."
"An assault vector carries nine thousand," Gorku said, amazed. "The Muikot battlestation carried thirty-six thousand. Two hundred thousand?"
"And twenty-five," Tyler said. "When it's full up. All stabilized so they can't chain react. You'd have to put a nuke in here to get them all. We haven't done any of the installations for Sector Two yet. So we only have firing ability over about one tenth of the surface."
"Where... is this exactly?" Gorku asked.
"Ah, well, sorry," Tyler said. "Classified. It's not the exact place as on the plans, I'll tell you that. Same with the laser room. And the command center. And 'cause of the grav walks, it's pretty hard to figure out."
"Still don't trust us?" Gorku said.
"I trust you utterly, Niazgol," Tyler said. "But clas
sified is classified. Sorry."
"You have been busy," the Glatun said.
"Rather," Tyler replied, opening the hatch so they could leave. "That's better," he said, taking out his earplugs. "It's been an interesting ride. Couldn't have done it without your help."
"Understood," Gorku said. "But also not what... Not what anyone would have done!"
"Humans weren't at a low tech level when we were contacted," Tyler said. "Most galactic tech was transferred from one group to another. Very few groups were at the tech point of humans when encountered. Our problem was getting out of the well, not things like, oh, computer tech and basic space engineering. Had all that. And since we didn't have grav tech, we had to find workarounds. Some of which work even better with grav tech. We'd been putting a lot of thought into space for a very long time. None of this is new thought. Just things we couldn't do without grav tech. Low tech, really. Simple stuff."
"And the Thermopylae?" Gorku asked.
"Still another month or two to get it operational," Tyler said. "We had to divert a lot of SAPL power and personnel to completing some stuff on the Troy. Right now it's not even at the same level as Troy was in the first Horvath attack it stood off. Be glad when it's done. Mass has a quality of its own."
"Speaking of mass..." Gorku said, pensively. "Your... Alliance countries have started conscription. How many people do you intend to put under arms?"
"Alliance population is currently about half of the remaining five billion population," Tyler said. "World War II, the maximum sustainable percentage was considered to be twelve percent. We've upped our productivity and a lot of things are done automatically in industry for example. Also, overall health is better so lower rate of four-F. We think we can go as high as fifteen percent."
"Three hundred seventy-five million," Gorku said. "That is a bare third of Rangora forces."
"Defending a system is easier than taking it," Tyler pointed out. "And a Troy-class battlestation takes fewer people to run it than an assault vector. Also a lot less to build. A Troy class that is fully functional, all five sectors complete, can take on about ten AVs. At least, if we fully finish it. That's going to take some time."
"Define fully finished," Gorku said.
"One hundred meters of ablative armor," Tyler said, leading the way back to the personnel area. "Ten meters of surface steel hardening. Planetary class shield generators. Five full battle sectors, including fuel pods, independent power generators, one hundred petawatts of laser output, full missile load, two hundred laser ports per sector, one hundred missile ports and a large vessel port system. Oh, and a ship fabber, five missile fabbers and a central power plant in the main bay."
"Good Cul!" Gorku said. "That is..."
"Insane?" Tyler asked. "Consider local galactic history, Gorku. The Glatun did most of the early advances on species in the region. Which meant peaceful contact. Humans, because the Glatun had gotten... had decided to study war no more, were almost immediately conquered by the Horvath. Since then, almost continuously, we have been fighting one enemy or another. It's killed a quarter of our population, changed our society and culture and more or less given us a mad on at the rest of the galaxy not to mention a really amazing degree of paranoia and we're a very paranoid bunch to start with. You think it's insane?"
Tyler stopped and looked the Benefactor in his red eyes.
"Gorku, it would be mad to do anything else."
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
"General Magamaj will have the honor of leading the assault in the Star Vengeance," High Marshall Gi'Bucosof said. "Under the command of Star Marshall Lhi'Kasishaj, of course."
Let him, Lhi'Kasishaj thought. This is going to be a disaster.
Assault vectors were only used when heavy defenses were anticipated. Given that the Terrans had destroyed a fleet of Aggressors, apparently without great trouble, heavy defenses were anticipated.
But even AVs could not normally take down heavy system defenses on one pass. So each AV squadron, three ships, traveled with a support squadron. The support squadron consisted of an AV support ship, essentially an unarmored, stripped out AV packed with fuel, spares, replacement armor plates and, notably, personnel, and a mobile repair dock.
The Rangora had AV repair down to an artform. By the time the AV emerged from the gate, the mobile dock had all the information it needed to begin repairs. The support ship attached directly to the dock. As the AV emerged from the gate again, generally bleeding air and bodies, they would run through the dock. Well-prepared docks had taken AVs that were barely functional and returned them to battle in a mere three hours. Each segment would be refilled with replacement personnel, parts would pour in, often through the gaping battle-wounds, portions would be cut off, prefabricated replacements would be slapped in place and, last, armor, shield generators and defensive laser clusters, always the main parts damaged, would be ladled on.
Battle repair was possibly the highest form of mass production known to the Rangora.
The only way to totally lose an AV was for weapons to dig so far through the refractory warships that they penetrated to the highly defended core. There they could take out drive systems, power systems, critical personnel and core support beams. At that point, the AV was pretty much toast. The support squadron could still repair one, but it would take days or weeks.
Lhi'Kasishaj looked again at the three reports prepared by To'Jopeviq's team, best, worst and medium, and wondered if any of the AVs would be coming back.
Ifs. There were so many ifs. Could the humans have created another battlestation such as the Troy? High Command dismissed the very possibility. The attack on the human, especially the American, command structure would have been crippling. And Lhi'Kasishaj had to admit that was true. At least half the American upper command structure should have been gutted. No warrior culture, as the Americans appeared to be, could survive that. The survivors would still be battling for supremacy.
The battlestation had been drifting out of position. Getting it into position had been bad enough. But then it had been closed, the door holding the circular structure. Just blowing nukes against the exterior was out of the question. Anything powerful enough to overcome the inertia of its orbit would crack it from the impact. It should be out of good position to attack the AVs.
The AVs should do it. He wished he could believe that. But even if they did not, if they were thoroughly shredded, the Troy would be as seriously mauled. Its missiles would be depleted. Its laser ports and, more important, the "receptor ports" for the SAPL would be destroyed. The final targeting systems for the massive laser trashed.
The damage would be heavy enough for the twenty-four Aggressors and two carriers of assault troops to finish off the battlestation. Then the system would be defenseless.
And he personally intended to make sure the Terrans were never a threat again. High Command agreed. The Terrans were, potentially, a very good satrap. But the Rangora were not going to make the mistake the Glatun made. Any species this dangerous needed to be eliminated.
"The assault will be in two waves," Gi'Bucosof continued. "The Star Vengeance, Star Battle and Star Mauler in the first wave, the Mira Destroyer, Neutron Star and Singularity in the second thirty minutes later. By then the first wave will be returning for repairs or to report victory. The Dwarf Marauder will remain in this system as a reserve force."
Reserve force my tail, Lhi'Kasishaj thought. Gi'Bucosof wasn't going to enter the system until it was thoroughly conquered and he wasn't going to expose himself to any danger, either. Which meant he was remaining behind in the Dwarf Marauder.
Which was all well and good because that was where Lhi'Kasishaj intended to stay, too.
"When the resistance of the battlestation has been eliminated, the fleet will enter the system and reduce it, utterly," Gi'Bucosof said. "Tomorrow, we sail to victory!"
—|—
"I'm sorry the President still hasn't made time for you," Tyler said. "Really really sorry."
"It is fin
e, Tyler," Niazgol said. "Your security people are very paranoid. I did not previously find them so. I suppose it is experiential."
"Well," Tyler said, moving a chess piece. "What with the Rangora attacks on political targets and problems at home, they've gotten that way. Besides, Troy's way safer. Check."
"This is an interesting game," Niazgol said. "And one I need to learn more thoroughly. But I think that is..." he moved a piece. "Checkmate."
"So it is," Tyler said. "You are very good. I'm not so good at this sort of th—"
SET CONDITION ONE! SET CONDITION ONE!
"Always when you're having fun," Tyler said.
—|—
"Bloody hell," Dana said, pushing Rammer away. "You need to go."
"No, duh," the corporal said, then stopped. "Uh..."
"Rammer, just go play jarhead," Dana said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you at the pool when the battle's over. Now UP."
—|—
"The second battlestation is not operational," General Magamaj said. "Concentrate all fire on the Troy."
"All fire on Troy, aye," Captain Shoeguh said. "Open fire!"
—|—
"They're uglier than I thought," Admiral Kinyon said.
The assault vectors were hexagonal along their length. The edges were lined with defensive laser clusters and shield generators. The main offensive power was deeply embedded gamma ray laser emitters and missile tubes.
The hexagonal system meant that as they took damage they could rotate to bring new systems into line. And they were already starting to rotate as the heavy lasers of the Troy opened fire on the nearest AV.
"Missiles inbound," Captain Sharp said.
"Well, let's return the favor," Kinyon said. "Open fire quarter power on all missile tubes. Give me Commodore Clemons."
"Sir," the commander of the Thermopylae said. "Can I open up, yet?"
