A Savage War Of Peace (Ark Royal Book 5)

by Christopher Nuttall

  The Vesy smiled, human-style. “There is much to discuss,” he said. “We shall be blunt.”

  Percy nodded, unsure if Ivan was using the Royal ‘We’ or speaking about both of them. The aliens might speak English, but attempts to translate from Vesy-One to English tended to cause problems, particularly when Russian was also involved. Percy had heard that it had been worse, trying to talk to the Tadpoles, yet he found it somewhat hard to believe. Besides, the Tadpoles had been helped by communications officers who’d had plenty of time to prepare for an encounter with alien life. He had a handful of Russians and their former hostages.

  “There are several powerful coalitions forming against us,” Ivan said. “We require your support.”

  He paused. “One of them has support from a rogue human.”

  Percy winced. He had always suspected that some of the Russians had been on detached duty when the Russian base had been overrun, then vanished into the countryside when the God-King and his forces were crushed. None of the Vesy factions had openly admitted to keeping a Russian or two prisoner, but Percy wouldn't have expected them to give up such a potential advantage. A trained Russian soldier could teach his captors everything from human military tactics to gunpowder weapons and other basic firearms. Given just how many ideas had washed across the planet in the wake of the God-King’s defeat, it would be hard to be sure if one or more had been sown by a Russian advisor.

  And we never found all the bodies, he thought, sourly. Too many were simply lost in the final bloody hours of fighting.

  “I understand,” he said.

  He cursed under his breath. There was no way he had the authority to enter into a long-term agreement with Ivan, even if he’d had the force to back it up. But not entering an agreement could be just as disastrous. He’d come to realise, in the months since he’d first met the alien, that Ivan was willing to do whatever it took to protect his own people. And, if he didn't, he would be removed. His people might respect him, as one of the aristocrats who had forged a link between themselves and the British base, but they wouldn’t tolerate failure.

  “We require your support,” Ivan said, again. “We cannot risk being caught by superior force.”

  Percy gritted his teeth. Trying to put together a political map of Vesy had been a nightmare, even for the Russians; his best guess was that city-states from outside the God-King’s reign of terror were pressing against Ivan and the other survivors of that war. They had intact armies and, presumably, gunpowder weapons of their own. God knew the Russians had been lax about preventing the spread of knowledge about muskets and rifles - or cannon. The Vesy might have been primitive, but they weren't stupid. Duplicating Russian-designed weapons wouldn't take long.

  And the God-King’s empire wasn't held together by anything stronger than naked force, he thought. There’s nothing holding it together now.

  He thought, rapidly. The hell of it was that he had next to nothing to offer and he knew it all too well. Ten Royal Marines, armed with modern weapons, could dominate the battlefield ... until they ran out of ammunition. He didn't even have an orbital bombardment system he could call upon, if the shit hit the fan. And none of the tactics he might have used, on Earth, to win time would be workable on Vesy. There was certainly no way he could slip an assassin into an enemy city and shoot their leadership dead ...

  “There are some ideas we could give you,” he said. One of the Marines had dug up the plans for primitive hot air balloons, similar to the observation balloons that had been used in the late 19th century, but he wasn't sure if they would be any use to the Vesy. More advanced weapons would take years to make. “But I don’t have the resources to offer you more.”

  Ivan didn't move - the Vesy stayed inhumanly still, when not moving deliberately - but he didn't seem pleased. “We have supplied you with workers, with materials, with food,” the alien said. “And yet you will not assist us in our time of need?”

  “There will be assistance when the ship returns,” Percy said, although he had no idea if that was actually true. It was quite possible that the World Court would agree to quarantine Vesy permanently, at least until the Vesy reached into space on their own. “However, I have only limited supplies ...”

  He stopped as his radio bleeped. “Corporal, report to HQ,” Peerce said. There was an urgency in his voice that Percy had never heard before, even when the shit was hitting the fan. “I say again, report to HQ at once.”

  “Excuse me,” Percy said. “I need to run.”

  Ivan nodded, mimicking the human expression. The meeting room was not only outside the walls, it was designed to make both races as comfortable as possible. Ivan would be able to relax until Percy returned, if he wished, or return to his city-state and resume the discussion later. Percy nodded back, then hurried out the door and down towards the gateway leading into the fort. Nothing seemed to have changed, he noted as he passed the guests and entered the large prefabricated building, but Peerce’s voice had sounded urgent. Had a starship finally returned to Vesy?

  “Corporal,” Peerce said, as Percy entered the compartment. “The orbital satellites have picked up a number of ships heading to the planet.”

  Percy nodded. “Human ships?”

  It would have been a stupid question, once. It wasn't any longer.

  “IFFs suggest they’re a mixture of American, French and Indian ships, with a handful that aren't broadcasting IFFs” Peerce said. “There may be more; the orbital network isn’t designed to track ships beyond a couple of AUs. The Indians seem to have the largest contingent; there are nine freighters, five warships and a starship of indeterminate design and function. She might be a troop transporter.”

  “Shit,” Percy said, as he checked the holographic display. None of the ships were British, as far as he could tell, and he had a feeling they’d resent being told what to do by a mere corporal ... particularly one who had nothing to back up his orders. If the newcomers wanted to land on the other side of the planet, there was nothing Percy could do to stop them. “Send them the pre-planned greeting, then an invitation to land at Fort Knight.”

  “We might find it hard to handle them all,” Peerce said. “We don’t have the barracks or warehouses to cope with more than a small influx.”

  “At least they’d have access to translators here,” Percy said, although he knew Peerce was right. He couldn’t help feeling more than a little out of his depth. Would it really have been so hard for a starship to be dispatched back to Vesy at once? “We can offer to introduce them to the locals.”

  There was a long pause. “Picking up a signal from the Americans,” the operator said, after a moment. “It’s relayed through the satellite network.”

  Percy nodded. “Let’s hear it.”

  A dark-skinned man appeared in the display. “This is Captain Samuel Johnston of USS Rhode Island,” he said. “Thank you for your invitation to land at Fort Knight. It will be our pleasure to join you on the surface as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you,” Percy said. “Welcome to Vesy.”

  The American’s image vanished from the display. Percy let out a sigh of relief; it looked as though the Americans, at least, were going to be reasonable. But then, the Americans might not have access to the files from either Warspite or the Russian deserters. They might feel it was better to make their first contacts with the Vesy through Fort Knight. The next starship might not be so cooperative.

  “Picking up another signal,” the operator said. “It's from one of the ships without an IFF.”

  “Greetings,” a voice said. There was no visual image. “We represent the Society of Interstellar Brotherhood. It is our intention to land on Vesy and assist our new brothers to reach for the stars.”

  Percy groaned. The Society of Interstellar Brotherhood had picketed Redford Barracks on Earth, back when he’d been stationed there. He honestly hadn’t been able to understand why anyone would consider aliens to be brothers of men, not when the sole known alien race - at the time - h
ad started a war and slaughtered millions of humans. And then they’d started insisting that humanity intervene and save the Tadpoles from themselves or something along those lines. Percy really hadn't paid too much attention. The idea of humanity trying to do more than maintain the peace was laughable.

  “Welcome to Vesy,” he said, carefully. “I must inform you that all contacts with the Vesy are handled through Fort Knight, so please take a slot in orbit and await landing permission.”

  “We have no intention of waiting before we make contact,” the voice said. “You have no authority to deny us permission to land.”

  Percy wondered, briefly, if he could ask the Americans to intervene. But it would be something well about his pay grade ... and it could easily explode in his face, if it led to a diplomatic incident. Instead, he thought fast. There had to be an argument he could use to convince them to see sense.

  “You will need translators to talk to the Vesy,” he said, after a moment. “The only way to get them is to work through Fort Knight. Of course, you could land elsewhere, but you would have to relearn their language for yourself and they might misinterpret your actions ...”

  There was a long pause. “We will work through Fort Knight, if we can land within a day,” the voice said, finally. “Our ship isn't chartered indefinitely.”

  Percy glanced at the data download - someone on the ship had had the sense to send their details, finally - and groaned. They’d chartered an Israeli ship - and the Israelis were notoriously stubborn about defending their rights. His half-formulated plan to take their shuttle, then seize their starship and hold the Brothers in orbit until more ships arrived from Earth would have to be abandoned. It would cause a major diplomatic incident for nothing.

  Peerce reached over and tapped the mute button. “Bring them down here,” he advised, softly. “We can hold them at Fort Knight if necessary.”

  “Understood,” Percy said. He untapped the button and cleared his throat. “We will arrange living space for you at Fort Knight. You should be able to land within a day, as you request.”

  He sighed inwardly as the connection broke. Fort Knight was large, but not large enough to host everyone. They’d need to expand, which would make defending the fort even more of a nightmare. God alone knew how many groundpounders the Americans had brought, but he couldn't simply hand the fort over to them ...

  “Picking up a message from the Indians,” the operator said. “They want to talk to whoever is in charge.”

  Percy nodded. Moments later, an Indian face appeared in the display.

  “This is General Anjeet Patel,” he said. His voice was curt, too curt. “Fetch your commanding officer at once, boy.”

  “I am in command,” Percy said, fighting down a flash of anger. He hadn't been addressed in such tones of contempt since he’d started his early training. “My superiors have yet to relieve me or send reinforcements.”

  “How convenient for them,” Patel sneered. “They can blame any diplomatic mistakes on an officer so young he has yet to learn how to shave.”

  Percy forced his voice to remain calm. “Welcome to Vesy,” he said. Perhaps the best response to the Indian’s unpleasantness was to ignore it. “Do you require living space at Fort Knight?”

  The Indian puffed up. “It is the official position of my government that the Vesy and no one else are masters of their homeworld,” he said. “We do not recognise your claim to control orbital space, nor do we believe you have either the right or the ability to prevent us from forging alliances with alien factions. Or do you wish to dispute this?”

  “No,” Percy said, carefully. The Indian was right; Percy simply didn’t have the ability to prevent anyone from landing wherever they chose. “However, in line with Provision Seven of the Outer Space Treaty, please keep us informed of your movements.”

  The Indian didn't seem inclined to argue that point. Percy wasn't too surprised. Provision Seven insisted that all spacefaring powers should notify the others of their movements, at least when moving through crowded orbital space. Earth’s early days of expansion into space had been marred by the Cold War, where a rocket launch could easily be mistaken for the first strike in a nuclear war. Since then, all powers had kept the other powers updated, even when the Outer Space Treaty had been largely superseded by the Solar Treaty.

  And they won't want to set any precedents that could be used against them later, Percy thought. Britain wasn't the only power that had an interest in Vesy. Or we might retaliate elsewhere.

  “We will land at once,” Patel said. “Goodbye.”

  His image vanished from the display. Percy cursed under his breath, wondering just what the Indians were planning, then looked at Peerce. The Sergeant seemed just as mystified as Percy himself.

  “If Ivan wanted you to help him,” Peerce said finally, “the Indians might make him a better offer.”

  Percy nodded. Nine freighters was a significant investment ... and, judging from their ponderous movements as they settled into orbit, they were loaded to the gunwales. God alone knew how long it would take the Indians to make contact and learn to speak the alien tongue - although it was quite likely they would find aliens who could speak either English or Russian - but once they did, they would definitely have something to trade. Somehow, judging by Patel’s attitude, he had a feeling the Indians wouldn't hesitate to trade weapons in exchange for political influence.

  “Picking up a shuttle launch,” the operator said.

  “Track them,” Percy ordered. The satellite net was pathetic, compared to the networks orbiting Earth, but they should be able to keep an eye on the Indians. “Let me know where they’re going.”

  It was nearly ten minutes before he had an answer. “They’re heading to City #34,” the operator said. “We don’t have any contact with them, as far as I know.”

  Percy glanced at the map, then nodded. City #34 was five hundred miles from Fort Knight, just past the edge of the God-King’s empire. If that was a coincidence, he would eat his dress uniform cap.

  “They learned something from the Russians,” Peerce commented, putting Percy’s thoughts into words. “That cannot be a coincidence.”

  “It looks that way,” Percy agreed. The Indians would be making contact with city-states that had heard of off-worlders, but hadn't had any real contact with them or access to advanced weapons. They’d be hungry for tech and the Indians would be happy to supply. “It’s going to be a right mess.”

  He sighed, then looked at the next wave of starships approaching the planet. American, French, Chinese ... a hundred NGOs, corporations and media outlets ... and not a single British warship. He’d lose control very quickly, if he’d even had it in the first place. The Indians had probably broken the ice, simply by refusing to acknowledge his authority ...

  “Keep in touch with as many of the newcomers as possible,” he ordered. It wouldn't be long before Fort Knight gained a few thousand new citizens. “And try to convince them to land here.”

  But he knew, as he looked at the map, that it wasn't going to happen.

  Chapter Ten

  Penny Schneider had never really seen the value of a military career. Her biological father had been called back to the colours at short notice, leaving his family alone, while her adopted father spent most of his time away from Earth. She had considered a military career, when her brother had joined the Royal Marines, but it had never really appealed to her. The idea of being a reporter was much more attractive.

  It hadn't been easy. Jobs were in short supply on Earth and she had a feeling that the only thing that had saved her from the labour pool was her name and family connections. Even so, getting a post as a reporter had required a great deal of luck - and snaring the assignment to HMS Warspite as an embedded reporter had probably relied on her family connections, no matter how embarrassing she found them. But then, with a brother who was already on Vesy and an adoptive father who might become First Space Lord one day, she was better-placed to gain a scoop than most
of the other reporters.

  She sighed to herself as she checked her equipment, then tapped the buzzer outside the Captain’s cabin. She’d been given nearly unrestricted access to Warspite, but interviewing crewmen had seemed rather pointless after the first couple of interviews turned up nothing of great interest. The crewmen and marines seemed more interested in flirting with her than giving her a scoop, although she had to admit it was unlikely they had anything new to offer after endless interviews on Earth. It was hard to find a crewman from the first cruise who hadn't been plastered across the datanets, their names and faces public knowledge. In hindsight, she couldn't help wondering if she’d been tricked.

  But nothing has really happened yet, she thought.

  She shook her head as the hatch slid open, dismissing the thought. Warspite had made three jumps, progressing up the tramline chain towards Vesy; nothing could reasonably be expected to happen until they actually reached their destination. Then, she hoped and prayed, her attachment to the ambassador would pay off. A solid story from Vesy would make her career, putting her beyond the charge of using connections to force her way onto the staff; hell, if she acquired a reputation for working on Vesy, she would be the go-to girl for future assignments. It was definitely something worth aiming for.