Conquest and Empire (Stellar Conquest Series Book 5)

by David VanDyke

  “Thank you, sir. The Jericho Line is our static defense, orbiting twenty-one million kilometers out. It is meant to attrit the enemy and is composed of unmanned systems supervised by a small number of manned frigates to provide maintenance and control. Those will withdraw as soon as they detect the FTL wave front.

  “The Line is composed of millions of fusion mines, Meme hypers and cheap laser modules. Very soon, the Meme will contribute a new type of craft, an autonomous gunboat of animal intelligence bred for patrol. It will be small enough to dodge long range Scourge fire, tough enough to take a pounding and will be equipped with a powerful suite of fusors. As living things, the Scourge ships will naturally be attracted to these gunboats and will try to kill them, but not before losing many times their worth in the process.”

  “Anti-tank dogs,” Marine Brigadier Joseph “Bull” ben Tauros said from near the front row.

  “Yes, the comparison is apt,” replied Michelle. “In World War Two, both the Russians and the Germans deployed dogs equipped with contact mines. They were trained to run forward and blow up enemy tanks, killing themselves, of course.”

  “Seems wasteful,” Bull said doubtfully.

  “This is a way for the Meme to contribute most effectively. We must adapt their biotechnology to do the most damage to the enemy when the time comes.”

  Bull subsided, waving for Michelle to go on.

  Absen stood up instead to speak. “Everything in the Jericho Line except the frigates is expendable and cheap, with emphasis on the latter. Our PVNs can churn out millions of mines and thousands of laser modules far more quickly and efficiently than we can build naval vessels with crews. I know we all want more ships, but those are an expensive luxury that must be reserved for tasks requiring them. The enemy wins by attrition, and as he is the attacker, we have to play his game. He has no supply lines and no rear area to hit. Other than wiping out motherships on arrival, our one strategy is to annihilate his forces as they come at us, and we have to do that in space.”

  “Can’t we just do what we did last time if we have to, sir? Let them land and eat themselves into cocoons, and then kill them while they’re helpless?” asked a lieutenant standing against the wall.

  “If we want to give up all that makes Earth habitable,” Absen said. “During the last attack, which by the way constituted less than ten percent of their original forces, Scourgelings consumed almost thirty percent of the planet’s land-based biomass. We had to do some major geo-engineering just to stabilize the resulting weather changes. If we want crops to eat and dense forest ecosystems to give us oxygen, we can’t take a loss like that again. That’s assuming the next wave isn’t smarter and resists the cocooning instinct.”

  “Thank you, sir. Moving on,” Michelle raised her voice, “we have new, anti-Scourge optimized Meme Monitors. The original five surviving Destroyers have divided, and the resulting ten ships have spent the last eight months gorging themselves on comets and asteroids. Each now has enhanced fusor weaponry as well as layers of heavy armor genetically engineered to be poisonous to Scourge, and they’ve dispensed with the relatively ineffective hypers. If Scourgelings manage to land on the Monitors and burrow, they will eventually die from the toxins incorporated into the armor layers. We’re looking into adapting this technology for our own ships, but unfortunately the same compounds that kill Scourge tend to kill us too, so it’s tricky. For now, our Marines and battle drones will have to carry the load.”

  “Surprise, surprise,” Command Sergeant Major Jill Repeth muttered from her seat next to her husband Commander Johnstone. He slapped her hand lightly with a smile, and then rapidly withdrew it when she extended one ferrocrystal claw from her upturned middle fingertip.

  Conquest’s flag captain, Melissa Scoggins, rose to her feet in the front row. “I’ve heard discussions about incorporating Meme ships into EarthFleet task forces. Is this likely?”

  Michelle turned to Absen, who answered, “Not now. They’ve developed a system for covering each other with fusor fire that is exponentially more effective with multiple ships of the same type. They allow mass landings on their skins and burn them off as they deploy.”

  “And when the Scourge figure out that standing off out of range and hammering them with plasma torps is the best countertactic?”

  “Then the Meme will retreat at high speed and we’ll engage. In other words, we’re maintaining squadron and task force integrity, working as combat units with an alternating combined arms approach, not as individual ships and certainly not as mixed forces. No, Captain, coordination among the races is too difficult right now to work. We’ll do what we do best, and they’ll do what they do best.”

  Scoggins continued, “What about the TacDrive? Have the Meme been able to operationalize it?”

  “Not yet. It doesn’t lend itself to their organic technology. But they will eventually, and that’s a good thing.” Absen said this firmly, though he wasn’t so convinced in his own heart. He’d had to pay the Meme in the coin of information for help in the defense of Earth, but doing so had been risky. The longer they took before they could actually mount a lightspeed drive on a capital ship, the less likely they would be tempted to betray their new allies or run off.

  If he eventually determined that working TacDrives on the Meme ships was critical to the human-Ryss-Sekoi alliance, he would order EarthFleet scientists and engineers to aid them…assuming they permitted such assistance anyway. The blobbos’ thought processes were often quite alien and unpredictable, even to his lover and Blend Rae Denham.

  “For now,” Absen went on, “all our TacDrive production is going toward SLAMs in hopes of trading one or two such systems for each full Scourge mothership. In a couple of months we should have enough of them to begin diverting drive components to the new ships of the Constitution class.”

  “Thank you sir,” said Michelle. “That segues nicely into an update on our capital ship production. Constitution ships will be superficially similar to Conquest – the same dimensions and thickness of armor, the same drive systems and crew requirements – but weapons systems will be optimized against the Scourge. Instead of Behemoth railguns and Ryss-designed particle beams, they will each have a single petawatt-class laser as a main gun. Its design is based on the Weapons, for which we have extensive information. It will be tunable by frequency, with a variable focus allowing it to strike large, distant targets with a narrow beam and multiple small, close-in targets with a wide beam.

  “The new ships will also have expanded point defense control centers, twice as many small lasers as Conquest, and will be fitted from the keels up as true aerospace carriers, although we don’t have the pilots, fighters and drones for them yet.”

  “What, we’re going to fight millions of these Scourges with fighters? The pilots won’t stand a chance,” came the voice of a large man named Kragov in the front row, a brigadier of Earth’s Home Guard forces. Absen had allowed the liaison to attend his meetings as a courtesy, but had cause to regret it from time to time, as the dirtsider tended to spout off without thinking.

  A man in a flight suit popped to his feet. “General, I’m Colonel Vango – that is, Vincent – Markis commanding First Aerospace Wing. The fighters deployed from the ships will be unmanned drones, remotely VR-linked to their pilots. They will be used in close to minimize network lag and will default to automated anti-Scourge mode if they lose positive link.”

  “Then they can’t operate very far away from their carriers? That seems pointless.”

  “For distant operations, we have manned control corvettes with VR-linked pilots aboard. This will allow a great deal of flexibility while minimizing casualties. The manned ships will be optimized for speed and eventually will be equipped with basic TacDrives in case they need to bug out fast.”

  The Home Guard general subsided with a pinched look on his face, apparently unhappy that he hadn’t managed to highlight some EarthFleet stupidity.

  “Thanks, Colonel Markis.” Michelle continued her
rundown, changing the display as she went to illustrate her words. “Constitutions will also each carry a full Marine brigade for repelling boarders or for expeditionary missions. Smaller ship classes will have similar, though scaled down, weapons suites, minus the Aerospace and Marine assault capability.”

  A slim Asian woman, somewhat unusually dressed in naval whites instead of the more common working khakis, stood, billed cap tucked tightly under her arm. “Captain Sherrie Huen. I’m concerned that these new ships lack flexibility. They have few nuclear missiles and no railguns, with little to differentiate them from each other except size. Time-tested naval doctrine tells us that a task force composed of specialized and complementary ships is most effective. Optimizing all our vessels against the Scourges we’ve seen may leave them vulnerable if they face something new. The Scourge second wave may operate differently, or have new ship types and weapons.”

  Absen answered for his aide. “We don’t have the luxury of task forces equipped for any eventuality. Production is at full capacity and resources are still extremely tight. This is a rock-paper-scissors situation and all our evidence indicates they only have one play, so we have to counter that play – massive swarms of small ships performing direct assaults. When we’ve weathered the storm of this next attack on the Solar System, when we have the FTL drive in place and are preparing to take the offensive, we’ll incorporate more flexibility.”

  “Semper Gumby,” Vango piped up with the Aerospace Forces’ unofficial motto Always Flexible, causing a chuckle to ripple through those assembled there.

  Captain Huen sat stiffly, as if chastised, and Absen made mental note to talk to her privately later. She was the daughter of Admiral Huen, the man who had valiantly defended the Solar System against the Meme all the way to the end, and her name represented an important symbol despite being just one naval captain among many. She’d commanded the beam cruiser Shanghai at the Gliese 370 assault and, remarkably, had been one of a handful to survive the ship being blown out from under her. She currently skippered an aging defense frigate, one of the few warships available until the new ones launched.

  Michelle went on with the briefing. “We will have – we do have – two mobile task forces in place at all times. One will be composed of Conquest and all other TacDrive-equipped vessels. The other includes all those without the Drive. For now, these are designated Alpha and Bravo. Alpha will remain in a Sol-polar position well above our SLAM Mark Ones in order to observe the results of the initial engagements. Once the shape of the battle begins to clarify, Admiral Absen will commit Task Force Alpha to attack the targets he deems most critical.”

  The holoscreen behind Michelle changed view from one looking at Sol from the top down to one showing the Earth-Moon system. “Task Force Bravo will remain in orbit at home as part of Earth’s close-in defenses. Without TacDrive, it makes more sense to use them to cover the fixed installations on Luna.”

  “What about the Meme?” General Kragov said loudly. “Where are their cowardly asses in all this?”

  Absen suppressed the urge to slap the man down hard in public. Kragov was popular in the Home Guard, a hardline anti-Memer with connections to the Skulls, though not one himself. Spectre had sent the man up to Conquest as liaison, saying, “If he wants to be your enemy, keep him under the eye of your tame AI where he can do little harm. Or, perhaps he will moderate his views as he is forced to interact with the aliens aboard.”

  Instead of embarrassing Kragov, the admiral said mildly, “The Meme will provide an extremely valuable third mobile task force, designated Charlie, which is already moving to take station in solar orbit between Mercury and Venus. Their auxiliary ships are boosting a continuous stream of comets and asteroids toward them, and with these raw materials they will keep gestating gunboats for the Jericho Line. When the time comes, they will do their part to intercept the Scourges on their way to Earth.”

  “How do we know they’ll fight alongside us?” Kragov said. “Last time, they were doing it to obtain our technological data. Now that they have it, what’s to keep them here?”

  “Mutual survival interest, General, along with a healthy dose of ambition on SystemLord’s part. Ambassador Denham assures me that the Meme command trium, and particularly the individual in charge, understands the importance of making a stand here before the Scourge menace overruns the stellar area. Our alliance – Ryss, Sekoi, Human and yes, Meme – needs time to develop the FTL drive and also needs information on what a second enemy wave looks like. SystemLord retains a uniquely high status within his culture by staying here and working with us.” Absen nodded to Michelle to continue.

  “Thank you, Admiral. Now to Earth’s defenses. Unfortunately, resources aren’t available to build large orbital fortresses such as the ones present in the first Scourge assault. Or perhaps it would be better to say, of the hulls we build, we prefer to make them into mobile warships. Instead, we are going cheap by using asteroid platforms and masses of laser modules. The PVNs on Jupiter and Luna are churning out thousands of them each day, and they are being emplaced by grabships on the rocks in orbit. Only a few of the larger ones will be manned, with control centers buried deep inside. Over one hundred are already in place, and we will keep adding to them as we can.”

  At a signal from Michelle, Vango Markis walked up to take the podium. “First Aerospace Wing is also part of Earth’s defenses now. Given that we’ll have almost a day’s warning before the Scourge reach Earth, we’ve decided to base them on the ground rather than in space. This is much cheaper and it’s much easier to maintain the birds there. We currently have over three thousand StormRavens, an uprated version of the old StormCrows, with more being manufactured all the time.”

  “I would have expected you to use unmanned drones to eliminate pilot casualties, Colonel,” General Kragov said.

  “If we did that, transmission lag would limit us to near-Earth orbit. Luna is more than one light-second away. A round-trip two-second lag in control would render drones useless. We might as well send them in under computer control. Either that, or we’d have to use drone control ships anyway. We determined old-fashioned manned fighters were the best we could do, given the constraints we have.”

  Kragov grunted and subsided.

  Absen smiled to himself. The Home Guard general was actually doing EarthFleet an unexpected service. The Naval, Aerospace and Marine arms might bicker among themselves, but they would close ranks against a grumbling dirtsider as a common rival.

  Markis answered a few more questions about the details of the Aerospace defenses, and then sat down, nodding at Kragov as he did so. The general stood up and straightened his camouflage uniform before taking the podium and clearing his throat.

  “Ground defenses have been much upgraded since the first Scourge invasion. Spectre’s crash industrial rebuilding program has allowed us to mass-produce the new Troll heavy tank.” A holopicture of a squat armored vehicle with one large turret and a dozen smaller ones appeared behind him.

  “This new weapon system will be employed using classical armored doctrine to annihilate any Scourge forces EarthFleet fails to intercept. It is equipped with one 150mm pulse gun that should take out anything heavy, and twelve automated antipersonnel turrets with 10mm guns for the enemy infantry. It has a crew of two: a commander-gunner and a driver. Supported by infantry in armored carriers, our Trolls will make short work of the enemy, assuming we have time to produce the full one hundred heavy brigades we want. Right now, we have only seven.”

  Kragov cleared his throat again, apparently a nervous habit. “The infantry situation is better. We have fifty-six trained divisions of 10,000 troops each, and more being organized all the time. Each soldier is Eden Plague and combat nano-injected for enhanced strength and healing, and carries a man-portable version of the 10mm pulse gun. Unfortunately, all the cybernetic upgrades are going to Fleet Marines, but we’ll make up the difference with training, discipline and guts. We’re very short of support forces – artillery and airm
obile especially, along with supply and transport – so I expect we’ll have to depend on Colonel Markis’ Ravens to keep the skies clear above us.”

  Absen said, “When will your TO&E be filled?”

  Kragov turned to the admiral with a grimace. “Our current table of organization and equipment calls for full strength in approximately twenty-two months.”

  “What about the militia forces?”

  “Everyone sixteen and older, male or female, is being issued an old-style assault rifle and a basic load of ammo, and will receive four hours of training on their one day off each week for the foreseeable future. Every building will become a fortress, every street a killing zone for the Scourge.” Kragov pounded on the podium with a fist and his Slavic accent thickened noticeably. “This time there will be no falling back, no retreat, no waiting. We will engage them fully and immediately. We will make the entire planet our Stalingrad.”

  Absen nodded in satisfaction. The Home Guard general might not be the most tactful of men, but it seemed he had the necessary fighting spirit in spades. When the time came, he would be sent back to take charge of whatever ground forces Spectre chose to give him, there to meet his fate.

  Chapter 5

  Daniel Markis walked alongside Spectre as he entered the Shepparton palace, which used to belong to Gilgamesh the Blend, he’d been told. Continually expanded, still it burst with people moving purposefully hither and thither. Most wore uniforms of some sort, or dark suits of conservative cut, men and women alike. Their faces seemed humorless, joyless.

  To Markis’ eye it looked like a cross between a medieval European court and some dystopian bureaucracy, the kind that placed everyone into their chosen role in life. A dash of Asian sensibility seemed to be thrown in, with a few in silk robes or loose outfits resembling something a Buddhist monk would wear.