A Savage War Of Peace (Ark Royal Book 5)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Aye, sir,” Armstrong said.

  Howard shot John a concerned look. John had no difficulty understanding it. The Royal Navy never backed down, even when faced with overwhelmingly superior force. It was a tradition that had been shaped when Great Harry - Henry VIII - had created the Royal Navy and upheld against Napoleon, Hitler and the Tadpoles. And yet, arguably, John had just backed down against - technically - inferior force. It wouldn't look good on his service record.

  And what, he asked himself mockingly, was I supposed to do? Start a war?

  “Captain,” Tara said. “An Indian starship has just broken orbit. She’s heading for Asteroid Cluster A.”

  It took John a moment to realise what had happened. The Indians had either known what the Turks had in mind or they’d guessed it ... which wouldn't be difficult, he reluctantly conceded. Why else would the Turks send a small fleet to an asteroid cluster unless they wished to set up a mining colony? And now the Indians intended to do the same, taking advantage of the old loophole in the law. All they really had to do to stake a claim was set up a transmitter on the surface and insist it was, as laid down by the law, an operating station. It wouldn't last longer than a year, but it would be long enough for them to get a proper facility set up ... if they wanted one.

  They might just see it as a bargaining chip, he thought. What else might they do?

  He cursed under his breath as the implications struck him. If the World Court ruled against the Turks - and the Indians - their facilities would have to be removed, by force if necessary. But if the World Court upheld the precedent of Terra Nova and agreed the asteroid mining complex could stay, the two smaller powers would have a solid lock on the system’s resources. The only thing he could do in response was to stake a claim to Asteroid Cluster C, which would undermine any attempt to throw the other miners out of the system. How could Britain bring charges against Turkey and India when she was unquestionably guilty of the same crime herself?

  And the Vesy will be screwed out of the resources of their system, he considered. But no one gives a damn about them on Earth. The tramlines are far more important.

  “Damned if I do,” he muttered. “And damned if I don’t.”

  Howard turned his head. “Sir?”

  “Never mind,” John said. He tapped his console. “Record to Daring, Priority-One,” he said. “You are ordered to leave your station and proceed at once to Asteroid Cluster C, where you will establish small beacons as proof of British claims. Do not allow any other powers to impede your mission, if it can be avoided. I say again, do not allow any other powers to impede your mission, if it can be avoided.”

  He sealed the message, then looked at Gillian. “Encrypt the message, then transmit it directly to Daring,” he ordered.

  “Aye, sir,” Gillian said.

  John cursed under his breath. It was possible, quite possible, that he’d just fucked his own career. If the World Court ruled against mining facilities, someone would have to be thrown under the bus ... and who better than the Captain who’d authorised a British ship to stake a claim to an asteroid cluster? But if it didn't ...?

  He looked down at his hands, then rose to his feet. “I’ll be in my office,” he said. He’d need to inform Ambassador Richardson, just so she knew a ton of shit was about to land on their heads. She would have good reason to blame everything on him. Indeed, it might be better for the country if he fell on his sword. “Mr. XO, you have the bridge.”

  “Aye, sir,” Howard said.

  “Inform me when we’re within secure laser communications range of Fort Knight,” he added. “I will need a secure link to the surface.”

  He nodded to his XO, then strode through the hatch, feeling the full weight of command settling around his shoulders.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “John,” the First Space Lord’s recorded image said. “At the risk of sounding rather melodramatic, and it is a risk, by the time you get this message the situation may have changed.”

  You can say that again, John thought, checking the data-stamp. The message was nearly two weeks out of date. It has changed.

  “I probably don’t need to tell you that the reports from Vesy are causing grave concern on Earth,” the First Space Lord continued. “The media has turned a minor skirmish, caused by an idiot, into a deliberate mass slaughter of alien children. Questions have been asked in Parliament and, while the PM has been holding his own, it has come at the cost of losing a couple of backbenchers to the opposition. There have also been several major protests against any further involvement with the Vesy, either because we’re contaminating their society or because it’s a waste of resources; hell, some of them have framed the Vesy as barbarians who are unworthy of our assistance.”

  “Instead of considering them as people who come in all shapes and sizes,” Joelle muttered.

  “The PM has been attempting to put together a consensus in the World Court to formalise a complete ban on giving more weapons to the aliens,” the First Space Lord said. “I believe the Americans and French are likely to sign on, after some horse-trading, but both the Chinese and Russians are non-committal. The Indians, in addition, have been loudly pushing the claim that the World Court doesn't speak for them - and they’re backed by several other minor powers. It may take considerable horse-trading or a creditable threat of force to convince them not to meddle further on Vesy.”

  “He didn't know about the plan to start mining the local asteroids,” John said. “The Turks must have kept it to themselves.”

  “MI6 believes there’s a considerable amount of coordination going on between the minor powers,” the First Space Lord added. “You are aware, of course, that they resent their position as minor powers; indeed, India, Brazil and Turkey have never truly accepted the World Court, let alone permanent subordination. They may see this crisis as an opportunity to even the playing field a little. I don’t think they will push matters much further, but that could be just my optimism talking.”

  He smiled, rather thinly. “Unfortunately, both the media and our other commitments have made it impossible to send you any reinforcements. The media, in particular, have been urging a military pull-out from Vesy, leaving the aliens to the civilians. I don’t think that will get any of us very far, but the media has never been known for their good grip on reality. There is very little point in trying to dissuade them when they get the bit between their teeth. The PM would prefer to ignore them, but our other commitments are a more serious problem. I don’t think we can spare more than a handful of destroyers to support you and none are immediately available.”

  John cursed under his breath. He would have welcomed a small squadron or a fleet carrier, even if its commanding officer displaced him from overall command. As it was, three ships simply weren't enough to patrol the entire system, even with the assistance of the other Great Powers. And they would be staking their own claims to the asteroids, too. The Vesy were likely to look up one day and discover their system had been stolen before they truly grasped what flying through interplanetary space meant.

  “I’ve attached a number of sealed orders to this message,” the First Space Lord concluded, grimly. “If the shit hits the fan, you are authorised to open the orders that correspond to the situation and carry them out. You may also wish to start planning to evacuate our people on the ground, or move them to a safer location. Even orbit would probably be safer than anywhere on Vesy.”

  He paused. “Good luck, John,” he added. “I’m sorry I don’t have better news for you.”

  The image froze. John stared at it for a long bitter moment, then shook his head slowly.

  “He didn't know what the Turks had in mind,” Joelle said. “Did he?”

  “I doubt it,” John said. “He sent the message on a ship, rather than trusting it to the relay network, but even so the Turks would have left at least a week before it was recorded and dispatched. I doubt the Turks bothered to file a flight plan when they departed.”

  “
Probably not,” Joelle agreed. She shook her head. “I was speaking to the other ambassadors, John. They’re all laying claim to asteroids now. There won’t be any way to dislodge them short of war.”

  “Which would be unwinnable,” John said. He doubted the British Parliament would tolerate a war for Vesy, particularly with public opinion torn in half. If the Vesy were considered barbarians, who in their right mind would want to send British boys and girls to fight and die in their defence? “And hypocritical, as we staked claims for ourselves.”

  “Perhaps a mistake,” Joelle said. She didn't look angry, merely understanding. “But an action that will be used against us.”

  “Yes,” John said. “But was there any other choice?”

  The Ambassador shook her head. “What orders were you sent?”

  John glanced at the header. “They’re to be opened in case of a major conflict with the Vesy or a clash with another power,” he said. “I can't open them now.”

  Joelle met his eyes. “But you can guess?”

  “In the case of the former,” John said, “I imagine it will be orders to evacuate everyone from the surface, as the First Space Lord said, and leave the planet alone. In the case of the latter ... maybe fire off a few shots, for the honour of the flag, and then retreat, leaving the system occupied. No one really wants a war for Vesy.”

  “So it would seem,” Joelle said. She sighed, bitterly. “The Vesy themselves would be forgotten as we started digging out old grudges and using them for propaganda.”

  John suspected she was right. Who had given a damn about some archduke who’d been shot in Serbia after hundreds of thousands of British, French and German soldiers had died on the western front? There had been uneasy rumblings that humanity’s golden age of space exploration and settlement was drawing to a close, even before the Tadpoles showed up. It had been quite possible, in hindsight, that several human nations would go to war, eventually sucking in the other powers.

  Because the Great Powers could only keep power by working together, he thought, remembering what he’d learned at school. But their interests weren't always identical - hell, China and America nearly went to war twice. What would have happened if they’d destroyed one another?

  “It doesn't matter, right now,” he said.

  He looked up at the map showing the location of outposts on the planet’s surface. Fort Knight was still the largest, but the Indians had a number of bases and the Americans and French had one each. And then there were the smaller outposts, staffed with researchers and NGO specialists that were dotting the land like measles. He knew that Fort Knight could be held, indefinitely, against anything the Vesy could bring to bear against the defences, but the smaller outposts were horrifyingly vulnerable. If all hell broke loose, a great many people were going to die.

  “I need to talk to Colonel Boone,” he added. “Can you speak to the other ambassadors?”

  “I can try,” Joelle said. “What do you want me to say?”

  “That there won’t be any reinforcements from Britain,” John said. “And that it might be a good idea to pull their people into defensible positions before it’s too late.”

  “I can try,” Joelle said. “We need to try to come to some agreement about the asteroids, before it’s too late.”

  “I think it’s already too late,” John said. “They’re not going to give up their claims without a healthy dollop of compensation. And what can the Vesy offer in exchange?”

  He shook his head. By human standards, Vesy was almost pathetically poor. There was nothing they had that humans needed and very little that humans wanted. They had no raw materials that couldn't be extracted from asteroids, no produce that couldn't be easily duplicated with human technology; they couldn't even sell themselves into slavery. John had heard stories about people being bought as slaves from parts of the Third World, but he couldn't see that happening to the Vesy. They were neither pretty nor unnoticeable.

  “Maybe we should give up and just start a tech program,” Joelle said. “Train Vesy to serve as asteroid miners ...”

  “And then what?” John asked. “What are they going to do with their wares?”

  He groaned. It was rarely economical to ship raw materials from one system to another, not when it was a very rare system that didn't have a few hundred thousand asteroids floating around. By the time the raw material reached an industrialised system, somewhere deep within the Human Sphere, its price would have skyrocketed. It was very unlikely they would ever find a buyer.

  The Turks might intend to merely stake a claim, then sell it, he thought. Or they might have something else in mind. But what?

  Joelle frowned. “I take your point,” she said. “Maybe we could invest in infrastructure here?”

  “I doubt that would go down well with Parliament,” John pointed out. “There isn't enough infrastructure at home, they will say; why is the government wasting time and money building factories for the Vesy? And then they will start wondering if the government plans to outsource industries to Vesy ...”

  “Shit,” Joelle said.

  John nodded. Outsourcing was practically a swear word, thanks to the Age of Unrest. It had played a major role in the economic crisis that had kicked the unrest into high gear and eventually sparked off a major conflict. Parliament would rise in a body and evict the Prime Minister from office if he proposed establishing major industries on Vesy. And anything less wouldn't be able to make use of asteroid materials.

  Unless we try to tell them that we’re saving the planet, he thought. But that wouldn’t go down very well either. God knew people trying to save the Earth from humanity had caused all sorts of problems. Or that we’re trying to help them avoid our mistakes.

  “Talk to the Ambassadors,” he said. He couldn't recall ever feeling so helpless, even when he’d laid eyes on the remains of HMS Canopus. “See what you can do.”

  Joelle looked doubtful. “I can try ...”

  ***

  Penny had seen Fort Knight from the air once or twice and she had to admit it had a certain charm, like the forts in the movies Percy had used to devour as a child. Indeed, she had wondered if Percy had allowed himself to be influenced by those movies when he’d designed the fort. But the Indian base was a brooding mass of solid metal, surrounded by high walls and bristling with weapons designed to repel attack from both the land and air. It squatted in the midst of what had once been farmland, the ground cleared to make it impossible to allow anyone to sneak up on it.

  She sucked in her breath as the helicopter dropped down neatly towards the landing pad, a pair of heavy antiaircraft guns tracking the craft as it made its descent. Penny couldn't help feeling nervous, as if the guns could fire on their own accord and blow the helicopter out of the air. Maybe they would. She'd heard stories of journalists who’d died in war zones under suspicious circumstances, although she had a feeling they were exaggerated. Quite a few journalists, in pursuit of the one big story that would make their careers, had gone beyond the wire and been kidnapped or killed by insurgents or terrorists.

  The helicopter touched down with nary a bump. “You’re wanted out there,” the pilot said, coldly. He’d barely said a word to her during the flight, even though she’d tried to make conversation with him. “I’ll be here when you come back.”

  “Thank you,” Penny said. Maybe he thought that all reporters were potential enemies ... or maybe he thought she was dating Hamish and didn't want to steal a Para’s girl. She rose, checked her recorder and handbag, then opened the hatch and peered out. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “Miss Schneider,” a female voice said, as she clambered out of the helicopter. A young dark-skinned woman, no older than Penny herself, was standing just past the safe line, smiling at her. “I’m Panda, Special Assistant to Ambassador Begum. If you’ll come with me ...?”

  “Of course,” Penny said. She couldn't help feeling a little dowdy as she eyed the Indian girl. Panda wore a long sari that both concealed her body and hint
ed at her curves. In many ways, it was more seductive than if she’d been naked. “I was wondering why I was invited here?”

  “I believe Ambassador Begum likes your work,” Panda said, as she turned and led the way towards the nearest building. “She chose you specifically.”

  Penny frowned, but - suspecting she wouldn't get any straighter answers - concentrated on looking around the Indian base. It wasn't just more military than Fort Knight - everyone she saw seemed to be wearing uniforms, save for Panda herself - it was completely free of any alien presence. There were no Vesy within the base, as far as she could see; no sign that it was anything, but a human compound. She could easily believe that the Vesy didn't exist, if she hadn't already met them. The base was a piece of India far from home.

  The interior of the base was depressingly akin to British prefabricated buildings, without even a half-hearted attempt to make it liveable. Penny had lived in an apartment block put together from prefabricated components and it had been dull, even though some of the younger children had hung their drawings and paintings from the walls. Here, the Indians seemed not to care about decorating their base. Perhaps they intended to move on at some later date.