by B. V. Larson
“How nice. While we’re waiting, I have a request. When this upcoming battle is finished and the Demons have been driven off or destroyed, can you arrange for us to use some secluded place—an island, maybe—to rest and relax? We’d like to see your suns through the clouds, walk a beach. We’ve been in space for almost a year now. No one’s had a chance to unwind on a friendly planet in all that time.”
“Of course, Captain…if we win.”
“We will. And if we don’t…”
“It will hardly matter,” he replied drily. “In that instance, I would only ask that you remember us and, if possible, return to liberate us from our enslavement.”
“So you also think you’ll be conquered and not destroyed?”
“Of course. The enemy wants worshippers and slaves, not corpses.”
“You seem pretty sanguine about the possibility,” I said.
“Becoming agitated would do no good. We will do our best. If that is not good enough, then perhaps it means the Departed Ancients have forgotten about us.”
“If they have, then we’ll have to win on our own, right?”
Diogenos’ lips pressed together. “Like all military men, you focus on the immediate and practical, Captain Riggs, but I must take a longer view. The Departed Ancients may yet return. If they do, I for one do not want to be judged wanting. In any case, look for our commander in a small ship. His name is Argos, and he should be approaching your vessels shortly.”
He disconnected, and I frowned at the blank metallic wall screen.
I’d intended on taking a shower and a nap, but now thought the better of it. I returned to the bridge.
“Captain,” said Valiant. “We have an unknown contact closing on our position.”
“A ship?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Was it stealthed?”
“Yes, apparently. It has approached to within two thousand kilometers undetected. Permission to fire on this vessel?”
“Permission denied,” I said. “Let it come closer. Communicate with the pilot. It should be someone named Argos.”
“Transmitting…” there was a pause. “Sir, the intruder identifies himself as Argos. His rank is Strategos, which apparently is equivalent to that of a General from Earth.”
“Great. Let him come aboard.”
“This action is not recommended. This action will be logged as a violation of protocol.”
“Fine, log it.”
The ship fell silent, but I could tell it wasn’t happy with me.
Instead of heading to the bridge, I had Kwon accompany me to the docking bay. I instructed him to look tough and huge in his armor, but not to talk. He did this naturally and flawlessly. I wanted him to be as intimidating as possible.
When he boarded, Argos turned out to be a man with another of those heroic, fit-for-a-statue faces that reminded me of Diogenos. He was heavier and bearded, with curly black hair. I could see thick muscles wrapping the arms protruding from his sleeveless crimson tunic.
“I greet you, Captain,” he said, raising a hand, palm out, as if he wanted to shake hands.
I approached him and clasped hands. He smiled then, hugely. His hands didn’t feel the way I’d expected them to feel. They were softer, wetter. Maybe these aliens sweated a lot.
“I greet you, Argos. How can my small force help you?” My question didn’t mean I would follow his suggestions, but I might as well listen. Soon enough, I’d want these people to pay us back for our help.
“I have a particular mission for you, Captain. I know you have no obligation to us beyond solidarity with beings that resemble yourselves. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I had a better solution—but it’s important, perhaps even vital to our survival.”
“Go on.” This was beginning to get interesting. I’d expected some kind of generalized coordination or plea for extra firepower, not some special assignment…if I even accepted it.
“I’ve brought data on a physical medium,” he said, displaying a cube of bright metal. “It’s our hope your systems can integrate and display it to help illustrate my request.”
“Let’s go find out,” I said.
I led him through the ship to our most impressive conference room. Along the way, we met several members of the crew. He made a point of stopping and shaking hands warmly with each of them. It was odd, but I knew customs varied from planet to planet. I let him talk to everyone personally. Sakura herself was one of them, and she seemed particularly bemused.
When we reached the conference room and installed his cube in a tiny divot the ship formed on the conference table, the system reacted warily.
An icon began flashing on the corner of my screen, and Valiant spoke. “Incoming data stream. No malware detected. Shall I display?”
“Yes,” I said. “Go ahead, Argos.”
The wall screen became populated by simple icons different from the ones we used, but which were understandable nonetheless as representations of the tactical situation.
“The Demons destroyed most of our fixed defenses in their initial attack to soften us up for invasion,” Argos said. “However, personnel on some of the orbital fortresses survived deep within. We would like you to rescue one particular team before they’re captured or killed, a team aboard the largest installation.”
An icon flashed, showing the location of a fortress floating in a stable point between their planet and moon.
“In the middle of a battle?” I said.
“What better time than when the Demons are fully engaged with us? They’ll likely ignore the wrecked fortress, or perhaps may allocate enough strength to capture our personnel, but they’ll not expect you to conduct a relief and rescue in force.”
I leaned back and rubbed my chin in thought. “What makes this particular team so important?”
“They’re intelligence analysts. They’ll have collected information on this latest Demon attack—how it differs from previous ones, how it’s similar, what improvements they’ve made.”
“Will have? You don’t have contact with them?”
“We do not. If we had, they’d have transmitted their data in an encrypted burst by now. Evidently, they cannot.”
I sat forward. “Then you don’t even know if they’re alive?”
Argos flicked his eyes at me. “They were able to make a crude signal, but it wasn’t enough to pass information, only to tell us that someone aboard lives. Captain, we can’t allow our people to fall into Demon hands. They know too much. Their final option is to choose death, but I—we—would very much like to avoid that possibility.”
Sweat had broken out on the Argos’ brow, and he seemed to be far more vehement about this team than the military leader of their entire force should be. I figured he wasn’t telling me everything.
I folded my hands and cocked my head. “Argos, millions of your people died mere hours ago. Many more are about to die defending your planet. Why is this one group of people so critical? After all, if you win, the problem is solved. If you lose, they hardly matter.”
Argos seemed to take a breath, then spoke in a lowered voice. “Captain, I’m impressed that you are able to deny this simple request,” he said.
This made me frown. Why was he surprised I could deny anything I wished to?
“I haven’t yet denied it,” I said. “I’m just asking questions.”
“Yes…” Argos said. “I am not accustomed to having my orders questioned.”
“Orders?” I asked. “I thought we were talking about a suggested mission. A helping hand we’re extending to you.”
“That’s right. That’s the best way to describe it. I’m too accustomed to ordering people around, I guess. Will you help us?”
I empathized. I felt truly sorry for the guy, and if doing this favor for him would buy me what I needed to insure my crew’s health and safety, then I would do it. But first I needed to get it on the record.
“Is there some special, personal reason why we should do this for you, sir?” I asked him
.
“Well…yes. One of the personnel on the station is my offspring.”
“Offspring? You mean your son?”
“Yes.”
“I see,” I said thoughtfully. “If I accept this mission, then I want that R&R we talked about whether we succeed or fail. Including pretty much whatever I want for my crew—supplies, materials, fresh food and drink, the works.”
Argos smiled with evident relief. “If you succeed, you will be feted as heroes. Women will throw themselves at your feet, Captain, and men will beg to serve in your command! You will have the gratitude of a planet, and if you…if you do not succeed, we will still ensure you have what you ask.”
“Then it’s a deal, as long as the mission looks possible. I’m not sacrificing my people against long odds, mind you.”
“We will send you complete specifications of the damaged fortress, and we will provide your ships with as much cover as we can.”
“If you can do that, why not simply send in your own commandos?” I asked.
“Most of our close combat forces have been destroyed or driven back to the planet, Captain. The vessels we sent to the Ketans’ defense, the half-fleet that rushes here to fight, is equipped almost exclusively for ship-to-ship combat. Therefore, it is tactically more sound to use them in the role for which they were designed.”
This seemed reasonable, but still…I wondered if Argos was trying to use us as cannon fodder. Then again, they’d just lost millions and were facing even more death.
Of course, I still had an out. If I didn’t like the mission, I could turn it down. I sensed that would be a diplomatic failure, however. My old man had always been able to talk aliens into the damnedest things. Maybe this was my chance to do the same.
“All right, Argos. We’ll take a shot at it, with the reservations I’ve already stated. I’d better get started briefing my people and planning.” I stood, suggesting the conversation was over.
“Of course, Captain, and thank you again,” Argos said smoothly, and he headed back toward his ship.
When he boarded the vessel, I caught a final look at him as he folded himself into the small cockpit. It was only a little bigger than one of our life-pods.
As the hatch swung closed, I thought I saw something odd… Had his leg folded in a manner a human’s shouldn’t? It was as if he was boneless at the knees for a second—then he was sitting and normal looking again. The hatch clicked shut, and I was left frowning at it.
I reminded myself that although these beings looked human, they didn’t have to have our same physiology. Perhaps they had more flexible joints or bones that could bend…it was odd, but I shrugged it off.
“Valiant, load the Argos’ data into the holotank and get Hansen, Bradley, Kwon…and Adrienne to meet me on the bridge. Have Kreel attend by vid-link.”
“Acknowledged.”
Returning to my quarters, I took two minutes to clean up and then headed for the bridge. I washed my hands several times. They felt cool and oily. Argos’ touch wasn’t pleasant, for some reason. It had been like shaking hands with someone who had the flu.
I washed my hands again, more vigorously than I had the first time.
-16-
“Doesn’t look so hard,” Kwon said after we’d spent ten minutes examining the Elladan fortress diagram within the holotank.
“You’d say that even if it was an obvious suicide-mission, Kwon,” Hansen commented. Then he held up a hand to forestall the retort building behind Kwon’s eyes. “I agree with you, though, Sergeant Major. It’s doable.”
I looked at Bradley to signal it was his turn for an opinion. He looked back at me as if trying to figure out what I wanted him to say. If there was one problem with the man, it was that he was too reluctant to disagree with me. Eventually, he said cautiously, “I’ll defer to Kwon about the boarding and rescue. The big question is, can we cover it from space? We’ll more or less give up our mobility and call attention to ourselves if we sit there guarding a dead fortress.”
“Good point,” I said. “How do we handle it, then?”
“If we get the support from the Elladans as promised, we’ll be fine,” Hansen said.
Adrienne spoke up. “We can’t depend on that. They might want to help, but they will be fighting tooth and claw for survival.”
“As their top commander is the father of one of the survivors, I think we’ll get our support,” I said mildly.
“If it’s possible,” she retorted.
Hansen looked disgusted, as if he was holding himself back. Maybe he thought it would piss me off to disagree with Adrienne, but I didn’t care, so I told him so. “Spit it out, XO.”
“I think we can do it,” he said. “We can help rescue these scientists, whoever they are.”
He asserted this firmly but without any supporting evidence. His eyes had become unfocused as if accessing a memory. Maybe this situation reminded him of something personal in his past. I’d never inquired about his family or background. Did he have children himself? Was he feeling guilty? I wasn’t sure.
“Okay,” I said, “start figuring out how we do it. We only have a couple of hours to prepare.”
* * *
“Why aren’t you trying to talk me out of this?” I asked Hansen as I made ready to head for the armory. “I’d have thought you’d be screaming that my place is here on the bridge and to let Kwon lead the rescue.”
Hansen shook his head vehemently. “No, I think you should go. Everything depends on it.”
My eyes narrowed. “What happened to playing devil’s advocate, XO?”
“This time you’re right, that’s all.”
I wasn’t buying it, but I didn’t have time for extended psychoanalysis. Something was rattling around in Hansen’s head, but unless I was willing to believe he intended to do something mutinous—and I didn’t buy that—I had to put it out of my mind for now.
I had some Elladans to rescue, hopefully without losing any more of my people.
“Okay, then.” I clapped Hansen on the shoulder. “Cover us, but if it gets too hot, don’t lose our ships or it won’t matter anyway. Pull out and come back when our side wins the battle.”
“Of course, Captain.”
I stared for another moment at my second-in-command. His naked dome sweated, and he licked his lips.
“You worried about something?” I asked.
He forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just something I ate.”
I forced a smile of my own. “Pretty soon we’ll be barbecuing on an Elladan beach. Just one more battle.”
As I left, Hansen muttered something I didn’t catch. Whatever was bugging him, he’d have to handle it or Bradley would take over. What was the point of a chain of command if they couldn’t back each other up in a pinch?
In the armory, marines were already suiting up and grabbing their gear. Kwon seemed to be everywhere, checking and rechecking. He nodded to me but kept on with his duties.
“Greetings, Cody Riggs,” my suit said as I sealed up.
“Hello, suit. Everything in order?”
“All systems go,” the brain replied.
“You been reading NASA histories again?”
“Query not understood.”
I chuckled. Why did I bother joking with a tiny suit brain? “Never mind. We ready to kick some Demon ass?”
“I’m ready for combat.”
Progress! The little AI had parsed out my meaning and responded appropriately. That made me wonder what my old suit brain had become, now that it was Greyhound’s controller and had been interacting with Marvin all day.
Then I shuddered. I wasn’t certain I wanted to find out.
I grabbed my axe and a grenade and made my way down the passageway to the assault airlock. Forty Raptors already stood there in ranks, armored up and waiting. I made sure my Raptor-awarded hero’s medal was displayed on my chest and back so they could identify me easily.
Kwon came in behind me. I said to him, “Everything good to go?”<
br />
“Yes, boss. Thanks for letting me go along.”
“Nobody else I’d rather have by my side.” I checked my chrono. “Twenty minutes. Double-check our Raptors. I’m going back to the bridge for the next fifteen. Yell at me if I’m not back here on time.”
“Okay, boss.” Kwon turned to our armored allies.
On the bridge again, I clomped over to the holotank after giving Hansen a glance. He seemed calmer now, and Lazar was sitting at a drone controller’s station with Bradley behind him.
“Valiant, status of repairs?” I asked.
“All systems restored to eighty percent effectiveness.”
“What about Stalker?”
“The same.”
“Marvin did a good job.”
“The robot is efficient.”
“When he wants to be.”
“He’s always efficient, even if his priorities are misguided.”
I glanced upward at one of Valiant’s cameras. “You’re getting argumentative in your old age.”
“That may be true.”
Shaking my head, I turned the holotank to watch the opening of the battle. The Elladan relief fleet of over one hundred heavy ships was decelerating toward its homeworld and toward the Demons occupying the surrounding space. The Elladan forces had just launched several hundred-strong spreads of missiles along with about a hundred fighters to back them up.
This meant that their missiles were leaping ahead as the firing vessels continued to slow down, and the fighters were advancing as well by merely coasting with their initial velocity.
As intended, we were ten minutes behind and decelerating along with them.
The Demons weren’t stationary, though. They had taken up various orbits with squadrons of ten to fifteen ships, seemingly uncoordinated. If the Elladans were sharp, they would be able to crush each smaller group one by one. Defeat in detail, the military theorists would call it.
Whoever was in charge of the Elladan fleet was doing a good job, I thought. The missiles closed in on their targets just as the ships behind them came within long beam range and began firing through the spreads.
This was easier than it sounded as space was much more vast than people realized. It was hard enough to target a missile you wanted to hit. Accidentally shooting down one of your own was very unlikely.
