“Brilliant,” Griffin said, sardonically.
“Quite,” Shari agreed. “There’s a strong possibility that rational negotiations with them will be impossible, Commander. They may not be able to grasp the idea of peaceful co-existence or submission to another power. I have no idea how the Tokomak managed to keep them in line. They must have known the squadron outgunned them and still they fought.”
Griffin nodded, curtly. It was a worrying sign. On one hand, destroying a chunk of the Druavrok Navy - whatever they called it - without serious losses was not to be dismissed, particularly as he was sure there would be further encounters, but on the other hand it indicated a fanaticism that chilled him to the bone. And then, the brief reports from the marines - he hadn't had the time to access a full sensory - had stated that the Druavroks had launched mass human wave-style attacks against the marines, clearly trying to drown the marines in dead bodies. They'd come too close to overrunning the marines and grinding them into the dust.
He looked back at the body and shivered. “What else can you tell me about this guy?”
“He’s definitely a male, I believe,” Shari said. “The penis is retractable, sir; it fits between his legs and only emerges when mating begins. I did wonder if they might be functional hermaphrodites, but there’s no sign of anything other than a penis and organs that serve the same purpose as our testicles. I’m planning to go through the other bodies that were brought up to the ship in the hopes of finding a female; hopefully, I’ll know more about their mating cycle afterwards.”
Griffin frowned. “How do they mate?”
“It’s hard to be sure without a female to compare against the male,” Shari said. “My best guess is that they can mate in several different ways, like humans, but I could be wrong. There’s just too much sexual variation among the Galactics ...”
“Yeah,” Griffin said.
The Academy had covered the hundreds of different variations in some detail, the tutors pointing out that sex was one of the easiest ways to get in trouble on an alien world. There were races that mated constantly, races that had mating seasons; races that had intelligent males and unintelligent females or vice versa; races that had elaborate codes that covered every last aspect of the mating rituals, races that thought nothing of doing it wherever and whenever they pleased ... like humans, in some ways. The Solar Union didn't give a damn what its citizens did, as long as it was done between consenting adults in private. Adapting the laws to suit aliens with entirely different biological systems had been a major headache when the first immigrants arrived from outside the Sol System.
He shook his head. About the only real taboo among the Galactics was interracial sex, although he’d been told there was an underground subculture where different races met and mated in secrecy. He’d never understood why - it wasn't as if a human and a Druavrok could produce a child - but the Tokomak had set the rule. Maybe they’d looked upon the prospect - the impossible prospect - of hybrids and shuddered in horror. Or maybe they’d just been jerks. A race that could deny others the prospect of immortality wouldn’t have qualms about banning interracial sex, if only to prevent their subjects from realising they had something in common ...
“Let me know what you find, when you find something,” he said. “What if their females are unintelligent?”
“I’d argue it was the males who were unintelligent, based on this sample,” Shari said, mischievously. “But I can't say anything for sure yet, sir.”
“I understand,” Griffin said. “Do they pose a biological threat to us?”
“I doubt it,” Shari said. “Their biochemistry isn’t that different from ours, Commander, but I haven't found anything to suggest their diseases can make the jump into our bodies or vice versa. A couple of the known pan-species diseases may pose a threat, but our nanites can handle those before they turn deadly. I’d be surprised if Amstar wasn't already used to handling such threats.”
Griffin nodded. Very few diseases could make the jump from humanity to an alien race or vice versa, but those that could were incredibly dangerous. The Tokomak, however, had crafted the first set of medical nanites to prevent cross-species disease outbreaks. Hell, disease was rarely a problem in the Solar Union. Most children had genetic modifications spliced into them from birth that kicked their immune systems into overdrive. The only real danger was a genetically-modified disease configured to defeat an adjusted immune system and spread through the body and nanites could handle that.
“They might try for a genetically-modified disease,” Shari added, “but they’d be asking for retaliation in kind.”
“They’re already practicing genocide,” Griffin pointed out. “Doesn't that ask for retaliation in kind?”
He nodded politely to the doctor, then turned and made his way back to the captain’s office, checking his implant’s inbox on the way. Jackie Fisher had taken very little damage in the conflict, thankfully; the handful of burned-out shield generators had been replaced already, while boarding parties had been dispatched to the industrial nodes before the Druavroks could try to destroy them. The crews, surprisingly, weren't Druavroks. They’d been taken prisoner when the Druavroks occupied the system, their families dumped into POW camps and promised safety, as long as the skilled workmen served their new masters. It was odd - the Druavroks seemed to combine a cold-blooded mindset with a hot-blooded desire to exterminate everyone - but that hardly mattered. What did matter was that Captain Stuart had committed them to an endless war with a savage lizard-like race bent on exterminating everyone else.
The Captain’s hatch opened as he approached, revealing Captain Ryman and Ensign Howard, who saluted hastily. Griffin returned the salute - the young officer had a long way to go, but at least he was on the right path - and stepped past him, into the office. Captain Stuart was sitting on her sofa, looking up at the holographic chart of the sector. The boarding parties, thankfully, had been able to recover enough data to fill in the blanks. But almost none of it painted an encouraging picture.
“Captain,” he said, as the hatch hissed closed behind him. “The doctor finished her examination of the first alien corpse.”
“Very good,” Hoshiko said. She sounded as though she was distracted by some greater thought. “I’ve just appointed Captain Ryman as ambassador-at-large to Amstar, with orders to make connections with as many alien groups as possible.”
Griffin blinked in surprise. “Is that legal?”
“It depends how you read the passages in my authorisation,” Hoshiko said. She smiled with genuine amusement. “I’m authorised to appoint deputies who can serve in my place, if necessary, although I have to countersign everything they do before it becomes legal. He has the contacts we need to start making connections, so I gave him the authority and a broad range of instructions.”
“I think those passages refer to your military subordinates,” Griffin sighed. He'd have to go through the authorisations himself, just to see if her interpretation held water. It would probably depend on her success - or lack of it. “Not to a random civilian we just happened to encounter.”
“He isn’t exactly a random civilian,” Hoshiko pointed out. She leaned back in her sofa, then indicated the chair facing her. “He does have a roving commission from intelligence as well as a position in the naval reserve.”
Griffin sat down. “Do you think he’ll make progress?”
“I hope do,” Hoshiko said. She cocked her head, sending a command to the room’s processor. The holographic star chart vanished, to be replaced by an image of the industrial stations orbiting Amstar or scattered throughout the system. “There’s a considerable amount of industrial potential here. The civilian fabbers could start turning out war material within hours, if we crack their limiter codes. That shouldn't be too hard.”
“No,” Griffin agreed. Cracking Tokomak codes was tricky, but humanity had fifty years of experience in outsmarting an unimaginative alien race. “Do you plan to give them human-level missile tech?”
“Among other things,” Hoshiko said. She paused. “Not Hammerheads, of course, but everything else.”
Griffin stared at her. “I should remind you, Captain, that General Order Number Four clearly states ...”
“Which can be overridden by the demands of war,” Hoshiko pointed out. “Besides, with the exception of Hammerheads, everything we have can be duplicated relatively easily, now the Galactics have seen them in action. And even Hammerheads are unlikely to remain exclusive for long. The Tokomak invented gravity-manipulation technology.”
“It won’t stop the Druavroks from copying what we pass to Amstar,” Griffin objected.
“They’ll still need time to duplicate our work,” Hoshiko said. “We need to give our prospective allies something to prove we’re sincere. Weapons technology may serve as a suitable incentive for them to join up.”
“Assuming we do find allies,” Griffin said. A number of ships had taken off from the ground as soon as the blockade had broken, but no one knew who’d been flying them. Druavroks, going to report on the disaster, or other races intent on returning to their homeworlds? “Can we count on anyone here?”
“The industrial workers are willing to assist us, in exchange for protection,” Hoshiko said, seriously. “We help them remove the limiters on their fabbers and they can start churning out defences, even if it never goes anywhere else. Give them a few weeks and the Druavroks will find it hard to retake Amstar.”
“They’ll try,” Griffin said. He outlined, briefly, what Shari had told him. “They’re a very aggressive race, Captain.”
“I saw the recordings,” Hoshiko agreed. “At least we managed to bombard most of their formations from orbit.”
Griffin shuddered. A rational race might have sought terms, but the Druavroks clearly still had no intention of surrendering. They’d dug into their enclaves, far too close to the other settlements to allow orbital bombardment, and started preparing for the final fight. The various resistance groups on the surface, had surrounded them, but they were reluctant to actually launch an offensive. Griffin found it hard to blame them. A month of occupation had killed over a billion people, from hundreds of different races. Amstar would never be the same, even if the Druavroks surrendered tomorrow. The entire planet had been traumatised.
They were even eating the dead, he thought. And they were keeping prisoners alive just so they were fresh when they were butchered.
He understood the captain’s desire to intervene, to take a stand against genocide ... against a horror that defied description. But, at the same time, he worried about the future. One of their ships had already been damaged, even though her crews had it firmly under control; what would happen, he asked himself, when another ship was destroyed? It would happen, sooner or later ... the Druavroks had already shown themselves willing to throw their own lives away, as long as it gave them a chance to close with the foe. The squadron simply didn't have the resources for a long and bloody war.
“Tell me, captain,” he said. “Tell me how this ends?”
“With us finding new allies and defeating the threat,” Hoshiko said, bluntly. “Do you want these monsters getting anywhere near Earth?”
“They’re six months away, Captain,” Griffin insisted. “Even sending a handful of ships to Sol would be difficult, if they are at war in this sector.”
“The Tokomak ruled a much larger empire,” Hoshiko reminded him. “They put together a staggeringly powerful force to hit Sol, even though they must have believed they were going well over what would have been required for overkill. The Druavroks might keep going until they run into us.”
Griffin had his doubts. He’d studied the Tokomak extensively - it was a required course at the Academy - and their empire had always been more flimsy than they’d realised, dependent on both the FTL drive and their command of high technology. Keeping their subjects ignorant had helped, but there had been plenty of cracks in the system before the Horde had stumbled across Earth. He doubted the Druavroks had the skill to set up other races as bully-boys and enforcers, not when they wanted to purge everyone else ...
And they’d unite everyone against them, he thought. Even races that fear and hate one another will combine their might against an overwhelmingly powerful foe.
“More to the point, we can make a difference,” Hoshiko added. “If we can win more allies among the other races, humanity benefits, but merely stopping an attempt at genocide will be enough.”
“But it won’t,” Griffin said. He leaned forward, trying to make her understand. “We may have knocked them off one world, Captain, but they have others. Many others. We have to stop them completely before we’re withdrawn from the sector or they’ll just resume the genocide as soon as we look away.”
“We won’t look away,” Hoshiko said.
Griffin frowned. Hoshiko’s family was powerful, but it was nowhere near powerful enough to keep the Solar Union involved in the Martina Sector if the public wanted to pull out and abandon Amstar. The ITA would probably do what it could, yet ... it still wouldn't tip the balance. Hoshiko was writing cheques the Solar Union might be unable or unwilling to cash.
“I hope you’re right, Captain,” he said. Hoshiko was treading a very fine line. Giving human tech to aliens, even allies, was a direct violation of standing orders, tempered only by her interpretation of other standing orders. “Because, if you’re wrong, we may only be creating more trouble for ourselves.”
“I understand the risks, Commander,” Hoshiko said. “But some risks just have to be borne.”
Chapter Ten
Reports from Texas, unconfirmed as yet, state that Mexican tanks are reportedly attempting to cross the Rio Grande into Texas after the Governor declared a flat ban on any further Mexican and South American immigration into the state. A unit of the Texas National Guard engaged the Mexicans with antitank weapons and successfully fought a delaying action until helicopters and armoured units could respond.
-Solar News Network, Year 54
“There’s no ground fire,” the shuttle pilot called back, “but there are reports of rogue enemy units, so we’re going down quickly.”
Thomas nodded, bracing himself as the shuttle dropped like a stone. His implants compensated as best as they could, but he couldn't help feeling scared as the shuttle swung from side to side, before hitting the ground with a loud BANG. The hatch swung open a second later, revealing a trio of armoured marines, their faces hidden within their suits. He scrambled to his feet as they beckoned him forward and ran out onto an alien world. The smell, a strange combination of smoke, blood and something he couldn't identify, caught his nostrils at once. It was hard, very hard, to resist the temptation to gag.
“The locale is reasonably safe, Ensign,” one of the marines said, as Captain Ryman followed him out of the shuttle. “However, we would recommend not going beyond the spaceport without an armed escort.”
“We may have to leave,” Captain Ryman said. “The spaceport is normally neutral territory, but things might well have changed.”
Thomas barely heard him. He was staring at the skyline. Hundreds of buildings - some towering up into the sky, others smaller and blockier - studded the city, all marred in some way by the bitter conflict. One skyscraper looked to have taken a direct hit from a missile: the framework had survived, if barely, but the interior had been completely destroyed. He couldn't help wondering why the upper layers hadn't collapsed onto the lower layers, although he guessed the upper interior had collapsed moments after the blast. A number of aliens were dragging dead bodies out onto the spaceport and dumping them on the runaway ... he gagged in horror when he realised just how many humans and aliens had been killed during the fighting.
“The command tower was destroyed in the fighting,” the marine was saying. Thomas forced himself to pay attention as they started to walk towards a smaller building. “We’ve converted one of the Pan-Gal Hotels into a temporary meeting place, as you suggested. I’m afraid the staff has buggered o
ff sometime during the fighting.”
“It will do,” Captain Ryman said. “Most of the facilities are robotic, anyway.”
Thomas looked up at the older man as the marines escorted them towards the hotel. “A Pan-Gal Hotel?”
“They cater for every known race,” Captain Ryman commented. His lips twisted, as if he were torn between amusement and disdain. “Book a room in advance, send them your racial details, and everything will be prepared for you. The food will be edible, the entertainment will be suitable and, if you should be meeting with other Galactics, the hotel will prepare a meeting room that will keep you all from being uncomfortable. All at a cost, of course.”
Thomas frowned. “They don’t use holograms?”
“Not if it can be avoided,” Captain Ryman said. “Sending someone a hologram when you could meet them in person is considered rude, unless there’s a very good excuse. No one will blame you for a virtual presence if you were meeting a Tas-pok, but a human? You need to speak face to face.”
The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) Page 10
