The six ships fired off one hundred and eighty missiles every thirty seconds through ten volleys, one thousand eight hundred weapons. A cool down period of fifteen minutes, then they were at it again.
The forced fired for an entire twelve hours, sending out six thousand four hundred missiles. The same with the second force. Not all would hit their targets. And there were too many targets for that number of missiles to take them all out. Would it cripple their production? Yes. Enough? Only time would tell. And if they found that there was too much that survived, they could repeat the evolution, as many times as necessary.
The only problems were the other systems, the heavy industrialized stars that didn’t have Imperial forces sitting outside of them. The humans knew where some were, but not all. There was no way they could destroy the entire next fleet.
The only way we’re going to beat them is with Admiral Chan’s dream weapon. She personally thought it a pipe dream. A wish fulfillment by the Emperor. Only the senior staff, including herself, had been read into the project. Too much fear that the Machines would capture someone who was privy to the plan and reveal it. They still didn’t understand how the Machines interfaced with human brains, but it was obvious that they did, and them getting this intelligence would mean the weapon would be stillborn.
She could think of one other way they could defeat the Machines. Beat the Cacas, then bring the entire Fleet, along with every ship of every ally, and sweep them from space. Seeing as the Cacas, while on the ropes, had not been defeated, and might not be for years on end, that might not happen in time. So they had to try and defeat them now, with what they had.
* * *
“I would prefer for you to send your detachments to these systems, Fleet Commander.”
“But you’re not sure they are going to go there,” said Goran, his triple eyes looking out of the holo.
They were communicating through a series of Klassekian com techs, deployed aboard Imperial ships, including one that had rendezvoused with the Gorgansha fleet, and the transmission from the minds of the aliens was just a little fuzzy. The audio came through clear enough, though.
“It is going to take you longer to get into the battle zone than the Machines, so the sooner we get you deployed in obvious target systems the better. I want you to support my ships with your defensive weapons.”
“Not with our missiles?” asked the surprised fleet commander.
“Oh, you can fire all the missiles you want, but our wormhole launchers are going to pull the yeoman’s duty in these fights. Those and our warp fighters.”
Beata could see the envy in the eyes of the Gorgansha commander. He wanted wormholes, but he wasn’t about to get them. Warp fighters might still be in their future, but that was not a given.
“Get into the systems and back us up. We’re going to need your support, so don’t let us down.”
“And what happens if they don’t go there?”
“We’ll try to get you locations while you can still get to the fight in time. Hopefully, that will help.”
“Very well. I…” The Gorgansha looked out of the holo like he wanted to say something else, important. But he remained silent.
“Anything else, Fleet Commander?” asked Beata, who had never known the being to be hesitant to speak his mind, at least with her.
“I, uh…. No.”
The com terminated, the Fleet Commander ending his talk with her deployed destroyer, his liaison vessel.
Beata wasn’t sure why that last exchange bothered her so much. She trusted the fleet commander, inasmuch as she could trust any of his species. What she didn’t trust was his commander, the Dictator of the Consolidation. There was no telling what that bastard was up to.
* * *
Goran had wanted to tell the human admiral what he had been ordered to do. It would be a betrayal of his lord and master, the being he had pledged his loyalty. His very life. That could bring disaster to his family and his fortunes.
Thank the universe I got my mate and young off the home world, he thought. Some trusted subordinates had moved them onto a freighter and sent them on their way to a satellite world on the other side of the Consolidation, away from the Machines. There they would be transferred to the planet and hidden from the secret police by loyal friends.
The fleet commander might also lose his estates, but that was not as big a deal. The family was more important. He loved his spouse, as much as any male Gorgansha could. He insisted that she act like a normal Gorgansha female in public. In private she was granted more freedom than most, and had the responsibility to run the household. Many Gorgansha males in his position would have hired another male to run their household while he was away, on the theory that it might cause too much distress to the limited brain of a female.
He did not feel that way. He knew his spouse could handle the numbers as well as he could, and her planning abilities were top notch. His children, two males and a female, were learning from her, and they seemed to be very bright and happy children. The Universe knew that he wasn’t around enough to teach them much more than that their father was a loyal warrior who didn’t have time for them. And that their father had honor. He intended to retain that honor, even at the cost of his life, and hoped his children would respect that decision.
He dismissed his family from his thoughts for the time being, locking them away in his memory. There were other things he had to deal with at the moment. He was safe enough from the dictator for the time being, with his ships in hyper VI, heading toward the battle zone and with no direct link to that paranoid and vindictive being.
“I want all the force commanders’ flagships to close with my flag,” he ordered. They were going to have a conference, one that might see him deposed as commander. But he had an idea, and he needed to see if his subordinate commanders were onboard with it. He had handpicked them for their positions, having known them through their entire careers. Still, what he would say was risky.
* * *
“They’re sending a small force toward this system,” said Mara, her face looking out of a smaller holo bubble while a plot occupied a much larger one. “As soon as they got out of our tracking range they started exchanging traffic over their grav pulse com. We verified that part of the transmission was the designator for this system.”
“Lrosst,” said Beata, using the name the Gorgansha used for it. It was a frontier system, only a couple of million. Before the war it had boasted over fifty million, but as more outlying systems fell to the Machines people had evacuated to planets and habitats closer in to the capital.
Bednarczyk looked over at her encryption expert, who was nodding her head as she read the digital traffic Mara was sending her way.
“We’re getting ninety percent translation,” said Lt. Commander Ela Nagato, looking up with a smile.
The young commander was a rarity in the Fleet, someone who could actually look at digital readouts and understand what was going on.
“Send the information to Chan. She’s waiting on it.”
Beata turned back to her scout force commander. “Keep getting me that information.”
“What are you going to do about Lrosst?” said a concerned scout force commander.
“Nothing I can do,” said Beata with a sinking feeling. She didn’t have the ships in place to get to that system before the Machines. There was also the Covington scenario. From their course the Machines could be headed to any of a dozen systems, four of them populated. They couldn’t let the Machines know they were reading their traffic. Not at this time, when they might have a chance to shut them down completely. If they changed their entire code prior to the attempt to shut them down, it might be months before they had decrypted enough to make another attempt. By then another wave would come, and the Gorgansha people would probably go down the path to darkness.
The actual header letting the Machines know what was communicating with them changed with the current encryption routine they were using. The base code didn�
��t change, and it was what they read after the transmission was decrypted. As long as they knew the encrypted code they could shove the header into the Machine system, opening it up for what was to follow.
“There are ten million people on that planet,” hissed Mara in a tone of mixed anger and distress. “Gorgansha and aliens.”
“I know there are,” growled Beata back. “And there is nothing I can do about it. I don't have the ships in place to meet them, and nothing that can get there in time.”
She did have a few ships that could reach the system, one battle cruiser, a couple of light cruisers and five destroyers. If she pushed them she could get them there in time. For all the good it would do. They couldn't evacuate the planet. One ship was already on the way to warn them so any that could get off the planet could start moving. She wasn't about to ask them to delay the Machines. They would get swept aside, destroyed, for no return.
Beata felt bad about not being able to help those people, the other aliens more than the Gorgansha. The Gorgansha were a slave holding race, one that used the labor of other species to prop up their economy. In many ways they were like the Cacas, without the obviously horrible trait of eating their slaves. Beata had wondered if the Empire would ever be able to have any kind of alliance with these people. Many of them thought of her and her female officers as inferior, something that still rankled her. She hoped the Empire might be able to influence them after this war, if there was anything left.
“Very well, Admiral,” said Mara, her expression softening. “I'm sorry. It's just that I'm tired of seeing these damned things keep on killing living creatures.”
Beata closed her eyes and shook her head as Mara faded from the holo. So much destruction, so much death. She really hadn't expected this kind of war when she had been sent out here. Sure, back and forth battles, and if the other side overstepped the bounds of lawful war, she could punish them. Not the Machines. They didn't give a damn if they were destroyed, if whole planets of theirs were wiped out. And they never seemed to end.
God, but I hope Chan knows what she's talking about, she thought, looking over at the plot. And when the hell are you going to separate and head for your targets?
* * *
“The humans saved us,” said Goran, sitting at his conference room table and looking at the holo projections of four of his commanders.
The males were highest ranking leaders in his fleet, and would be in charge of the forces that split off from the main force. He had served with all of them for decades. Two of the males had gone through the naval college with him. He trusted them with his life, but could he trust them with the treason he proposed?
“The humans and their allies saved us,” he continued, steeling himself. “If not for their fleet we would be battling for our lives on the other side of the capital. Because there is no way we would have been able to stop them. They had killed billions of our people, rolled over most of our frontier systems. We were on the way to extinction. We might have gotten some of our people away. But our civilization would have ended.”
“But they brought so many upsetting ideas with them,” said Plastra Horan, the most traditionalist of the commanders, head moving in a motion of negation. “Females in charge of battle fleets.”
“I, for one, found that refreshing,” said Joras Ladora, one of the least traditional of the officers. “Their female commanders were smart, they fought fiercely, and we benefited. What was not to like.”
“But, to have males bow down to females,” growled Horan.
“They still have male officers. And the leader of their Empire is male,” pointed out Natras Goran, the fleet commander's cousin, and one of his oldest friends.
“Good point,” said the last male, Joranus Horan, Plastra's brother, and an admiral who didn't always agree with his brother's viewpoints. “They have had female leaders of their empire. But as far as I can see from reading their history, it didn't have any detrimental effects. I read of their Empress Constance, who led their fleet in war. As good as any commander they have had.”
“How do you feel about your spouses?” asked Goran, looking from holo to holo. “Are they stupid creature who can't figure out how to come in from the rain? Or are they intelligent beings?”
There was a lot of head motions of agreement. In fact, even Plastra seemed to agree, though he huffed after giving his head motion.
“So, are the humans right?”
“It doesn't matter,” said Nastras, his eyes rolling. “Gonoras is a traditionalist. He will never admit that females are his equal.”
“But are they our equals?” growled Plastra, giving a head motion of negation. “I know of no female as strong as I am. Or at least as I was when I was still a strong young male.”
“And is physical strength the only measure,” returned Ladora, showing his teeth in a smile. “Maybe when we were still digging in the dirt, and fighting our enemies with clubs and blades it was. I, for one, have met many females who were skilled enough at hand to hand combat they could take me with ease.” There were some disapproving looks at that, since females were not supposed to be trained in combat. That it happened was a given. Ladora continued. “And the important thing in our day and age is intelligence and dexterity, the ability to operate machines. If we did as the humans we would have females working in our industries, freeing up males for battle.”
“I, don't know,” said Plastra, looking doubtful. “But you have left me with much to think about. Once this war is over.”
“And about that,” said Goran, looking over all of his officers. “I want everyone to hear me out before talking.”
That drew curious looks from all of the officers. Normally conferences between commanders included shouted questions and statements all the way through. That their commander was asking them for silence until he finished speaking bespoke the seriousness of whatever subject he was to broach.
“I have received orders from the dictator. We are to let the humans fight the Artificial Lifeforms without our aid. They will absorb the damage from the enemy.”
“But, they might be defeated without our aid,” said Plastra, his voice rising.
Plastra may had been a traditionalist, but he was also a brilliant naval commander, and one who could see the implications immediately.
“That is what the dictator wants,” said Goran, seeing the shock on the faces of the males. “In fact, he wants us to destroy the human forces after their fight with the Artificial Lifeforms.”
“Has he lost his mind,” blurted Ladora, a panicked expression on his face.
“Watch your tongue,” said Plastra, glaring at the other admiral. “He is your ruler, the being you swore your oaths to.”
“And he wants to stab our ally in the back,” yelled back Ladora.
The meeting devolved into a shouting match, and Goran slammed the fist of his dominant hand on the top of the table. I should have known better than to think I could get in my entire speech before an argument broke out, he thought.
“This is insane,” said Nastras, looking intently at his cousin. “Is he insane? The humans will swamp us with unbeatable fleets.”
“Gonaros believes that they will be too busy with their other war,” said Goran. “Or he simply believes they lie about the size of their empire and their fleet. Unfortunately, I believe them. They are a mighty empire that covers many times the area of our Consolidation. Going to war with them will bring our destruction. They might not need to lift a finger to doom us. Simply withdraw their support when the next Artificial Lifeform fleet comes rampaging into our space to destroy us.”
“Something else to think about,” said Plastra, obviously considering the problem without letting his loyalties interfere with his reasoning ability. “If the Artificial Lifeforms defeat the humans, there is no guarantee that we will then beat them. We could end up getting our own fleet destroyed, and then they will kill everything in those systems. And if they destroy us, how will the home fleet stop them with less than a th
ird of our combat power.
“So,” said the male Goran was sure he would have the most trouble convincing. “What do you propose to save us from the decisions of a madman?”
Chapter Seven
In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on. Robert Frost
BOLTHOLE. JULY 13TH, 1003.
Admiral Anaru Henare liked these tours of his facilities. They gave him hope and raised his spirits. Bolthole had been envisioned by the Emperor Augustine, the father of Sean, as a hidden base that could produce everything needed to put a battle fleet into space. The last refuge, and the port that would house the fleet that might win the Empire back if it were conquered. Of course, he hadn't known about the Cacas, who would kill every human in the Empire if they won. Or the Machines.
The Bolthole asteroid was still the center of it all. Almost two thousand kilometers in diameter, it would be considered a large moon if it orbited anything but the star. It was surrounded by hundreds of platforms. Factories, ship docks, even some habitats, though most of the people in the system lived on the asteroid. The population had grown to over one hundred million. Mostly humans, with large populations of aliens among them.
The largest alien population, surprisingly, were the Klassekians. They had come as unskilled labor, most of them, and were well on the way to becoming some of the best machine operators in the Empire. Of the two million of those people, over three quarters were permanent immigrants off of their home world. The remaining quarter were on Bolthole to absorb skills that they could take back to their home world. When that time came, an equal number would come out from Klassek, raising the tech expertise of the planet. Along with the people being educated at home, the planet was on the fast track toward becoming a technologically advanced society like any other in the Empire.
The curve of the asteroid was to the right of the shuttle the admiral was riding. There were lights all over the surface, marking airlocks, hangars, ports for the intake and release of products and materials. Steady orbs, flashing strobes, enough to confuse just about anyone looking at the surface. Some factories were in low orbits, sweeping their bulky cubes and spheres swiftly around the asteroid. There were many more to the other side, out from Bolthole. Tens of thousands of people worked in each of those assembly plants, putting together grabber units, environmental plants, electromagnetic projectors. All the ten thousand and one assemblies that went into space craft large and small.
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