by Kal Spriggs
“I’m… not against you getting messages to us if you come across anything important. Captain Nix is putting together a military intelligence net, I’m sure she’d like to tie you in. I think that’s a little out in the future. Mostly, just do whatever you and Mason were going to do anyway.” He doubted either one would ever come into a situation where they’d need it, but still, it wouldn’t hurt for them to have at least a claim of legitimacy.
“Thank you, Baron.”
“For what its worth, I hope things work out for you, Lauren.” Lucius said, “You were a hell of an officer, and I really didn’t want to lose you.”
She shrugged uncomfortably. “Thank you, sir.”
Lucius stood, giving her a crisp salute. “Dismissed. Clear space and quick time.”
She returned the salute, her eyes slightly misty. “You too sir.” She spun on her heel and departed the office. A few minutes later, Captain Nix stepped in. “So, how’d she take it, Baron?”
“Fairly well.” Lucius responded. “I hope I didn’t just get them hung for piracy.”
Captain Nix shrugged, “Nah, a lot of small colonies have privateers. Faraday had a couple, actually, a few decades ago. Didn’t work out, then, though. They ran afoul of some Republic warlord,” she shrugged.
“How goes the interrogations?” Lucius asked.
She made a grimace of distaste, “I’m so sick of looking at Chxor…” She shook her head, “You said before you were working on transferring them over to civil authorities for processing, how’s that going?”
“A couple snags, I hope to get those fixed soon. How is everything else going?”
She frowned, “I need to expand my staff, Lucius. I need some intelligence analysts. I’ve borrowed a couple spooks from Admiral Dreyfus, but… they and I aren’t really sure who reports to who, you know?” She shrugged, “On top of that, it seems like we’re doing double the work half the time. We don’t coordinate with each other, just because we’ve got two separate organizations. I’ve definitely got the lead in HumInt, but they’re ahead with SigInt and they’ve got some great gadgets."
Lucius nodded, “Integration of units is going to take a while. There’s some issues with seniority of rank, as well, especially since most of their date of ranks will be thirty or more years older.”
She snorted, “I don’t care about that, too much,” she shrugged again, “I ran the intelligence for a planet before, all else fails, I know I have a job if I decide to quit here.”
“I’m tempted to transfer you over to the civilian side,” Lucius said, after a moment. “President Bueller has assembled heads for a lot of the civilian services, but the United Colonies Federal Investigation Bureau is lacking in experience.”
She shuddered slightly, “You couldn’t come up with a better acronym than ‘FIB?’”
“I could move you over to the Director slot there.” Lucius said. “Not a lot of work right now, but they’ll be our primary counter-espionage force.”
Captain Nix pursed her lips, “Director of the FIB? Where’s the headquarters?”
“Well, I’m certain there are enough empty estates that you can appropriate for the time being.”
She waved a hand, “Unnecessary. Actually, I’m pretty tempted by that offer, Lucius.” She narrowed her eyes, “Wait a second, you said earlier, that you’d be transferring the Chxor prisoners over to civilian authorities…”
“Primary responsibility would fall to the FIB.”
“Argh.”
“I’m sorry?” Lucius said in such a way to suggest that he really wasn't. Alicia Nix was a capable woman, she would do a good job, and despite her complaints, she loved challenges.
“Do you have any idea how much of a headache processing half a million POWs is?”
“We’re estimating between four hundred thousand and a million people rescued from this upcoming operation.” Lucius said.
Captain Nix put her head in her hands. “Let me guess,” her muffled voice said, “They’ll all need to be processed too? And you’ll want the Chxor finished before we start processing human POWs.”
Lucius smiled, “No big rush, you know. Just two genocidal alien races to worry about.”
“Did I ever thank you, Baron, for coming to Faraday and saving us?” Nix Reed said.
Lucius cocked his head, “No, I don't think you ever did.”
“Good.”
***
Captain Kral knew that tactical patience won many wars.
That kind of patience the Chxor excelled at. They had much practice as a race, he knew. Years of subjugation culled the Chxor to those who could either accept their lot in life or pretend to very well.
Kral had much practice in pretense. Now, his patience would finally pay off.
After months spent with humans, Kral had come to realize that Chxor too, felt emotions. Granted, those emotions did not approach the range of the human consciousness. Kral had no concept of regret. He had no idea of ‘love.’ Friendship too, he understood poorly, beyond the forging of alliances.
He found that, when he allowed himself to do so, a Chxor could experience human-like emotions. Obsession, he knew, might explain some of the wasteful actions of certain Chxor commanders, such as Kleigh. Selfishness certainly showed in the actions of the dominant Chxor gene-lines. Kral came to find that generosity, when applied to his fellow imprisoned Chxor could also breed loyalty. They found he could help them, and they reciprocated.
Loyalty had its strong points in the emotions that Kral discovered. But Kral found that ambition had its own draw. Ambition fed upon success, and Kral became very successful.
Ambition, however, like obsession, burned away at one’s tactical patience.
He ran calm eyes over his all-Chxor bridge crew. More likely than not, the Chxor at the station would not search the entire ship. However, it would not do to take chances in something easily preventable. His crews aboard both the dreadnoughts and defense cruisers consisted entirely of Chxor.
And all those Chxor owed their freedom--and their loyalty--to him.
“We have established communications with the base defense forces, Squadron Commander.” The communications technician spoke hesitantly, “There are more ships here than normal, a Chxor convoy arrived a few hours ago.”
Kral nodded his head, he accepted the Chxor rank. It meant more to him than Baron Giovanni’s granted title of ‘Captain.’ He keyed open a link to the System Commander, “System Commander, this is Squadron Commander Kral. I have important news, which will require immediate action.”
“What news is that?” The monotone answer somehow carried overtones to Kral’s emotion sensitive ears. He realized, suddenly, that other Chxor, even those in high positions, must feel emotions. This System Commander obviously felt despair at his lowly position. No doubt, a Chxor of high genetic rank, he felt his command over this repair base to be beneath his station. He saw it as a dead-end job.
A Chxor who won a great victory here, however, might receive rapid promotion, especially for the defeat of a known irritant. He might further reward the Chxor who warned him of such an opportunity.
“System Commander, until recently I and my crew were captives of humans.” Kral spoke, “They captured these vessels in actions at the Faraday system. Knowing the glory of the Chxor would reign triumphant, I and my fellow prisoners lied to the humans. We professed loyalty to them. In their emotional foolishness, they believed us.”
The monotonic voice might have gained the slightest hint of surprise, “That is an interesting story.”
“There is more, System Commander. Knowing great rewards would be ours if we could defeat them, we made up a story to lure them here. They planned a two part attack, with us to slip inside and open the way for their forces.” Kral kept his diction precise, his voice level. It would not do to show his excitement.
“Logically, then, your force becomes a threat.”
“Logically, unless I can prove my own loyalty to the Chxor.” Kral said, “T
he human force is scheduled to arrive in just under six hours. I will transfer to you a list of their forces. My own ships, as you see, have received heavy damages and are not yet repaired. System Commander, obviously, my force is no threat to your own. Indeed, the recapture of these vessels for the Chxor Empire would be a great boon.”
“What good would knowledge of the human plans provide me?”
Kral wondered, absently, if stupidity could be considered an emotion. “With knowledge of their emergence point and their probable course of action, your forces could await them and catch them at close range. It is highly likely you could destroy those vessels to include the known pirate vessel War Shrike.”
The slight pause, Kral interpreted, had to be the System Commander's need to listen to his personal ambition. “I had heard of this ship. If I win a victory over this ship, your assistance will not be forgotten.”
“Understood, System Commander.”
“Take your ships to station, you are not allowed to dock. Your ships will wait on station near the derelict yard until I defeat the human attack.” The Chxor on the other end paused, “For the glory of the Chxor.”
“For the glory of the Chxor, System Commander.”
***
Forrest Perkins was not a hero.
He’d graduated from an academy with a degree in astralnavigation on Saragossa at twenty two. He could have joined the Navy, but at the time, he’d wanted to start a family. He did so and got a good, well-paying job on a merchant ship. He’d left Saragossa in July of 2393. Three months later, he had returned to find his homeworld ravaged by the Nova Roma Empire. He gave his spot on the ship to another man there to take his family off-world and went to find his own. His new wife vanished in the chaos, never to be seen again. With the system’s infrastructure and defenses gutted, he saw his world plundered multiple times.
Over the next two years, millions of his fellows starved to death. Forrest held on, till the Chxor came. Some saw them as saviors, for they brought stability. Forrest just saw them as one more step down the rung for his world.
It might have been a sullen look in his eye that got him assigned to slave labor. It might just have been his luck finally ran out. Either way, his knowledge of ships meant he got assigned to one of the Chxor 113 mining ships.
He started his sixteen hour shift as normal, shoved roughly out of his bunk by one of the other two men he split it with. With something more than a rudimentary knowledge of spacecraft, Forrest got the thankless job as commander of the mining craft.
The only Chxor on-board, the purser, controlled the rations. That was the real power.
Forrest just commanded the movements of the ship, and made sure they made quota at the end of the day.
“Any changes?” He asked as he stumbled into the cramped command deck. It really wasn’t much more than a cockpit, he knew. He scratched at an itching spot behind his ear. They’d just gotten a batch of new guys. Probably one of them had fleas and brought them along for a ride.
Boris Timovich might be considered an XO, if an XO made moonshine out of the moldy grain mush they got twice a day. “Some new ships came in. Way they are moving, at least one of zem’s damaged. Ve vill have increased quota, you vill see.”
“Care to bet a bottle?” Forrest said with smile. He rubbed one hand across his shaved-bare scalp. Shit happened, he’d be damned if he let the Chxor take away his spirit.
“Nyet.”
Forrest laughed, then frowned at the sensors. “Looks like most of the Chxor ships are moving.” He pointed at the crude screen, which showed the ships’ movement. They only had the most basic radar systems, just enough to show rough positions and to avoid collisions. “Maybe something’s happening.” He shot a glance at the other man. “Might be the opportunity we’ve been waiting for.”
Boris stared at the screen suspiciously. When he spoke, the words came grudgingly, almost as if he resented the opportunity, “Da... might be.”
***
Lucius rapped the fingers of his right hand against his thigh, then checked the tightness of his seat restraints again. He looked over at Kandergain again and then looked up at the clock that ticked away the seconds.
The bridge of the Peregrine sat silent and Lucius felt tempted to call over to the War Shrike to hear Captain Doko’s voice. He half wished he had remained aboard his ship, and not transferred to the captured vessel.
“We’ll emerge in thirty seconds, Baron.” Commander Beeson said. The youth had aged prematurely from the events of the Chxor occupation. He’d lost his entire family, and Lucius wasn’t sure the young man really knew how much he’d changed. He had lost a good deal of weight and his normally cheerful voice still sounded subdued. “If Captain Kral did his job, the base will be wide open.”
“Hopefully, so.” Lucius said to his XO. He glanced at his screen as he studied the formation of ships. They’d elected to make this attack a small one, to use their more rapid vessels and their fighter squadrons to chew apart the Chxor formations rather than overwhelm them with force.
The two battleships remained the largest vessels in the attack force. If things went badly wrong, they could find themselves massively out-gunned.
Lucius glanced up at the clock one last time, and caught a smile from Kandergain, seated over at navigation. As he watched the last seconds tick away, he hoped his instincts weren’t wrong about Kral.
***
Kral watched with dispassion as six human ships appeared in the system. They came in ten thousand kilometers further out than he had specified. The System Commander immediately contacted him. “They are not where you said they would be, Commander Kral.”
“System Commander,” Kral said calmly, “Jumps can be off by several thousand kilometers. They are close to where I said they would be, and they came in when I said they would. You should still be able to force an engagement and at least drive them off with heavy damage.”
He waited patiently, as he knew the System Commander would need longer than himself to calculate the velocities and engagement windows. “That is correct. Thank you for your assistance, Squadron Commander Kral. For the glory of the Chxor.”
“For the glory of the Chxor.”
Kral looked over at his bridge crew. They remained alert and ready. The ships’ drives remained up, their weapons remained powered. Had the System Commander questioned such actions, he could honestly state that it was merely a precaution, so that his own force could move to support a defense of the repair base.
“The human force is fleeing, Ship Commander.”
“Thank you, Sensor Officer Frel.” Kral looked at the technician, again, and decided, should he have the opportunity, she would not be a bad option to continue his genetic line. She came from decent genetic stock herself, being a minor genetic line, but one known for professional behavior. Now that he and his crew were self-fertile, he thought the time had certainly come for the perpetuation of his own genetics.
He turned his attention to the sensors and watched the human withdrawal. The ships needed time to calculate a jump through shadow space, or risk an emergency jump. Their withdrawal, however, showed many signs of apparent panic. Several of the ships broadcast transmissions, one ship totally in the clear broadcast a blubbering female captain as she shouted for someone to save her.
He thought that a bit excessive.
The ships drove a course that weaved. They pushed themselves through corkscrews and curves along their withdrawal. Those gyrations drove their ships all across a massive area of space and spread the individual ships out greatly. At the same time, they fired out metallic chaff, thermal decoys and did their best to make themselves hard to see. Because of their gyrations, however, they left the clouds of chaff behind them. It littered the space behind them with a sensor fog. All the System Commander needed for a clear shot was to pass around or through that relatively small area of space.
To the System Commander, they must look like an optimal target. None of those ships could support the defen
se of the others with their broad formation and their gyrations slowed their acceleration. Furthermore, Kral knew the ships lay outside maximum engagement range by only five thousand kilometers. With their current velocity, the Chxor force would most likely overtake the fleeing human ships soon.
The Chxor System Commander clearly saw that some dispersal must be necessary and spread his ships out slightly to allow them to cover a wider spectrum of space and engage more of the human ships as they fled, just as the force crossed over the entry point of the humans.
A few seconds later, one of the Chxor cruisers disappeared in a bright flash.
***
Lucius Giovanni, despite his surname, had no real knowledge of acting or the theater arts.
He did think the blubbering Captain Deacon Martinez did lay it on a bit thick, however.
“Force Bravo has remained in covering position for the repair base, still thirty thousand klicks out. Force Alpha is closing on Point Hollywood, now,” Reese said, from his station. It felt good to have him as his sensors and communications officer again.
Lucius stroked his chin, watching, “Any moment now.”
The Mine, Area Denial, version II, also known as the MAD II, contained a number of useful features. The most important one, for this operation, was its ability to identify targets via IFF and mass. Also important, each mine had a two hundred megaton antimatter warhead.
Minelayer ships never played a huge roll in space battles. Space was big. Mines were static. Mine fields could never cover all of the possible approaches to a world, much less a star system. Even so, the Dreyfus Fleet had six minelayer ships, each roughly the size of a battlecruiser. Those minelayers carried two hundred of the large mines in their external racks, and their corkscrew maneuvers littered the area behind them with dense vertical minefields the pursuing Chxor commander couldn’t hope to miss.
The first mine ignored the Chxor cruiser approaching right up until it physically collided with it. The two hundred megaton explosion erased the Chxor cruiser.
