Battle Cruiser

by B. V. Larson

  “One hundred sixty-two now,” Yamada said. “About fifteen percent of what they started with.”

  I shook my head. “Why don’t they break off? They can’t win now. Surely, they can see that.”

  Zye shook her head. “No, they can’t,” she said, “and it wouldn’t matter if they could. The Stroj never give up. They never surrender, and they very rarely run from battle.”

  “Cease fire. Let’s contact them. Open a channel, Durris.”

  After a few seconds passed, the Stroj I knew as Kaur appeared on our screen.

  “What is the purpose of this communication?” it asked.

  “Admiral Kaur,” I said, “I believe this battle is over. You have lost, sir. Surrender, and you will be treated well.”

  Kaur looked around our bridge again. Our faces were haggard. There were signs of damage, but he couldn’t help but notice we were still very much in command of our vessel and still in this fight.

  “Stroj do not surrender,” it said. The screen went blank.

  I stared at it wonderingly. “What are they doing now?”

  “They’re still speeding up, as I said. They’re getting tighter, converging…Sir, I think they mean to ram us.”

  “Time until impact?”

  “Eighteen minutes.”

  “Eighteen minutes? They’ll never make it to us.”

  “Your orders, sir?”

  For a time I sat there quietly, staring at the screen. The Stroj were colonists, after all. They were creatures that were partly human, or who had once been human. To order the deaths of a thousand Stroj…

  “Seventeen minutes, sir.”

  “Destroy them,” I said, in a voice that seemed not to be my own. “Destroy them all.”

  Defiant’s cannons began firing again.

  Six minutes later, the last Stroj ship was annihilated.

  * * *

  The return journey to Earth was a slow one in comparison. To give all the injured a chance to heal, I ordered that we proceed with no more than half a G in applied acceleration.

  The multi-armed repair-bots were ubiquitous, but I noted some of them were damaged. I asked Zye about it when she returned to duty on the second day. She’d been lying in medical, fuming, since I’d relieved her at the end of the battle.

  “The bots don’t repair themselves,” she said, her tone indicating I was a half-wit for asking.

  “Why not?”

  “Because they weren’t programmed to do so.”

  “You can’t change their programming?” I asked.

  “The repair bots were purchased from the Stroj before war broke out. Only they can reprogram them.”

  Thinking about that, I wondered if the “trade-good” known as a repair-bot was perhaps a form of trick played upon the Betas. Maybe the Stroj had planned to make the Betas reliant on these robots. Then, when they broke down, they could refuse to repair them.

  I decided not to reveal my thoughts on the matter to Zye. She would only think I didn’t understand the way of things, or worse, she might take offense. After all, the implication was the Betas weren’t too smart in their dealings with the extremely dangerous Stroj.

  When we docked at last at Araminta Station everyone aboard was worn out and happy to be home. There was something about a combat mission that was utterly unlike a dull patrol cruise through local space. After facing the unknown and possible death, all the energy had drained from my crew.

  The first order of business at the station was to hold services. Many had died. My crew had numbered two hundred and sixty-five when we left home. Thirty-nine had not returned.

  As the captain, I found myself in the unaccustomed position of officiating over their funerals. Many prominent guardsmen came to the ceremony, which was held on the uppermost level of the docking wheel.

  When Admiral Halsey himself arrived, I thought perhaps he’d take over the speeching—but that didn’t happen. Instead, he insisted on allowing me to say whatever words of comfort came to my mind to the families and crewmembers that had gathered.

  I chose a traditional route. I quoted Lincoln, Samos and Tacitus. The group listened closely, and when we were done, the bodies were draped in the midnight-blue flags of Star Guard and shot into space. Their orbits would decay within hours, and the bodies would burn up in the troposphere. It was a tradition that was two centuries old, and predated the Cataclysm itself.

  Asked to make closing remarks, I took a deep breath and stepped to the lectern again.

  That was when I saw a new group come into the echoing hold. They were civilians, surrounded by wary agents. Three people in the center of the group caught my attention, and they froze my heart and mind briefly.

  Lady Astra the Younger moved like a radiant queen at the left of the trio. I was captivated by her eyes, her smile and the beams cast off by the jewels in her hair.

  Forcing my gaze from her person, I was gratified further to note that my father was riding a drone, which ghosted over the floor making a whispering sound. At my father’s side was my mother. Both of them nodded to me. There was pride in their eyes, I thought. I could not recall having seen that emotion on their faces before.

  Turning back to the waiting crowd, I began to speak.

  “Today we honor our fallen. It’s only natural to suffer grief at such a moment, but I would argue that none of us here should lament the sacrifice of these guardsmen. Each of my crewmembers who died in space saved millions of lives. Think upon the significance of that.

  “Why, you may ask, did this day have to come? Why did our colonists, the long-lost children of Earth, return to attack us? I would argue that they’re no longer the same people. At least, not all of them. Time, technology, and countless dark desperate days have transformed them. They’ve descended into a new form of savagery.”

  The group stared at me. Some, particularly the admirals, were taken aback. Perhaps they’d thought I would stick to a mundane script praising the Guard, the constitution, and Earth in general. I felt I’d done enough of that during the eulogy.

  “People of Earth, we must wake up,” I said. “Today was a close call, and it will not be the last. We must rebuild our defenses so the light that is Earth never again comes so close to being extinguished. As the Romans said, ‘si vis pacem, para bellum’ which translates to: if you want peace, you must prepare for war.”

  I concluded my speech, and the gathering broke up into small knots. As soon as I was able, I moved to the trio at the back of the chamber.

  My mother’s face was hard, but she hugged me. “I’m glad you lived, my son,” she said.

  “And I’m glad my father still breathes!” I said, falling to one knee beside him.

  His medical drone buzzed as he drifted closer.

  “William,” he said in a wheezy voice, “that was a fine speech—even if it was a refutation of my entire career.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be, father,” I said. “It was spoken in earnest.”

  He put out a trembling hand and clasped mine.

  “These are difficult times,” he said. “A war has been thrust upon us. There are times when peaceful behavior will not save the lamb from the lion. I think this is such a day. It will rip my party to pieces, but I’m going to push for the budget you and the rest of Star Guard must have.”

  A smile lit my face. My mother still looked tense, but I was rejoicing inside. I had my father convinced. It was a day I’d never thought would come.

  “Now,” my father said, “give your attention to the member of this party who interests you most. Hell, she’s even got my eye and I’m half dead.”

  My mother slapped him lightly on the shoulder and urged the drone into a buzzing retreat.

  I approached Lady Astra. My face was beaming—but I saw in her a sadness. A pain unspoken.

  Could this be a difficult moment for her? Had she found another so quickly? Or was she perhaps less committed to her beliefs than I was, and more willing to go with the flow of her family’s wishes? She was still
young and untested after all.

  Full of conflicting emotions, I stepped close to her. The agents surrounding us fidgeted, but they allowed it.

  “William,” she said, “I’m so glad to see you. The news reports—it was so grim. Your ship, when it started to spin—I thought it would blow up.”

  “Never,” I said. “Defiant is indestructible. I know, as I’ve done my damnedest to wreck her.”

  She smiled faintly, but she didn’t laugh.

  “Why the long face?” I asked her quietly. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s my mother—she didn’t make it. The damage to her organs was too great. She was an oldster, you know. Their tissues can’t be regenerated easily.”

  She broke off into tears, and we embraced.

  The agents leaned closer, but I tried to ignore them. I wanted to shout at them to be gone, but I knew they were just doing their jobs. After all, they’d failed to keep Chloe’s mother alive. Who could blame them for exhibiting paranoia now?

  “Another victim of the Stroj,” I said when we parted. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  We comforted one another until Admiral Halsey approached and cleared his throat. He gave me a smirk, completely misunderstanding the situation.

  “Always good to see a young man return to his girl,” he said, laughing. “She’s broken up over you, I can tell. Don’t tell me you’ve injured her heart!”

  “No sir,” I said.

  “Good, good. Well, it just so happens I’m in charge of CENTCOM now, and there is a small but important matter for us to discuss. Please report to headquarters after the gathering.”

  “Tonight, sir?”

  “Yes, tonight. It’s important.”

  He left me then. I frowned after him.

  “Go,” Chloe said. “I’ll wait in the city for you—if you want me to.”

  I smiled. “Of course I do.”

  Leaving the chamber, I was unsurprised to see Zye hobble toward me in the passageway near the sky-lift. I shook my head at her.

  “Zye, get back to medical. Your leg is broken, woman!”

  “I’m well. I came to check on you.”

  “The battle is over,” I insisted. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And the children?” she asked. “What about the children?”

  “I haven’t forgotten, Zye but we need you healed. Until then I will investigate. I’ll be sure to use all the tricks you’ve taught me.”

  That seemed to settle her down. I walked her back to the station’s hospital and left her there. She wasn’t happy, but she was resigned. She had to take the time to heal. While I was there, I visited with Rumbold. He had new radiation scars and parts of his face were a livid red.

  “You look good, Rumbold,” I lied.

  “Right,” he huffed. “You’ve been learning how to lie from Zye, haven’t you?”

  “Am I as unbelievable as all that?”

  “Worse.”

  We laughed together, and I looked over his prognosis. I was surprised to see that he was expected to recover. He was far over his allotted lifetime budget in healthcare costs. Someone in the accounting department must have had a heart. Star Guard was doing its best for him. Knowing that made me proud to serve the Guard.

  Taking the sky-lift down to the capital an hour or so later was a glorious experience. The city seemed so full of life and hope. It was night, and every light in town was burning.

  When I reached the ground, I realized the people were in the streets celebrating. They’d all watched the battle in the skies, and they were rejoicing because our side had won—this time.

  It took me nearly two hours to get through traffic to CENTCOM. I found a grim-faced Admiral Halsey waiting for me.

  “You took your sweet time, Sparhawk.”

  “Everyone in the city is cheering in the streets, sir.”

  “Hmph, that may well be, but it won’t affect the outcome of this hearing.”

  I frowned. “What hearing, sir?”

  I looked around me, and I saw a number of high level staffers were present. They’d gathered into a circle around a central display stack. They were as quiet as pall-bearers carrying a casket.

  “What’s this about, Admiral?” I asked. “I thought we’d resolved our disagreements.”

  “That makes no difference,” Halsey said. “This is an official matter.”

  “Concerning what?” I demanded, becoming exasperated.

  “Concerning your promotion to the rank of captain. It was illegitimate, as it was performed by a nonperson. An infiltrator. A Stroj spy.”

  Suddenly, I understood. Halsey had fallen back upon a technicality. He’d found a way to defrock me after all.

  Nodding, I reached up and removed my captain’s bars. The nano-adhesive struggled to prevent the act, but they came off at last with a tearing sound.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I’m nothing if not a man who plays by the rules as they are written. My rank was illegally given to me.”

  Halsey stared at my bars, which I offered him. He cleared his throat, and took them from my hand.

  “Just so. Now, please hold up your right hand, William of House Sparhawk.”

  Confused, I did as he ordered.

  Then, to my surprise, he swore me in and presented the bars to me again. The gathered group clapped at the end. I’d grossly misinterpreted their presence. They were here to witness and properly approve of my promotion.

  It felt good to know my captaincy couldn’t be stripped from me again—at least, not without good reason.

  -54-

  It was two weeks later when I caught up to the man I’d been tracking since Defiant had returned to Earth. We were in Paris at the time, a city that had swollen since the Cataclysm and now was home over a hundred million souls.

  We found Edvar Janik at the city outskirts near the shores of the English Channel. Unfortunately, Zye was with me when we confronted him in his dingy flat.

  He didn’t survive the encounter. Zye’s left hand squeezed his neck fractionally too hard and there was a snapping sound heard by all. The body slumped, but it didn’t die for quite a while.

  The man was a Stroj. Zye, therefore, wasn’t guilty of murder, only overzealousness.

  After we reported Edvar’s death, Star Guard lost interest. They helped us only by providing satellite imagery and access to classified databases. It was enough to find a likely spot on Earth’s vast globe to search.

  Considering the matter closed, CENTCOM denied my request for a tactical squad. As Defiant’s captain, I considered bringing my marine contingent down from the ship, but technically marines were only sanctioned to serve in space, never on Earth unless there was a dire need.

  Today, there might be a real threat, but I thought it would be a small one. A lightly armed force would serve best.

  Flying to the location and landing on crusty ice, I thought I’d made the right choice as to who to bring with me. Zye marched at my side in the relentlessly blowing snow. Her eyes were hard, and her face was grim. Red scars from her recent injuries still stood out on her cheeks.

  Her femur was holding up well. She barely limped now.

  Behind the two of us marched nine of House Astra’s agents. In my opinion they were better troops than the agents of House Sparhawk. My father’s men were loyal for the most part, but they were more like butlers and spies than they were true, hardened fighters.

  Today, I wanted to lead people who would follow me into the unknown. People who knew how to kill, should the need arise. Therefore, I’d asked Chloe if I could borrow some of her agents, and she’d consented as it was for a good cause.

  Zye found the cave herself in the end. We’d known the general coordinates, but knowing a hidden location was within a thousand meter radius was one thing. Finding the actual entrance in the ice—that was another.

  She found a suspicious fissure with a stub of artificial pipe sticking up. She cra
shed her boots and fists into the crusty snow.

  The agents gathered around, fingering their pistols and shivering in their cloaks. No amount of explaining had made them grasp quite how cold the Antarctic could get.

  Zye broke through quickly. That wasn’t really a surprise. This wasn’t a fortification, it was a hideout.

  We entered the ice cave in Zye’s wake. The walls were a glossy blue. They reflected every wavering flicker of our shoulder lights. The camera drones that had managed to survive the icy winds followed us, documenting everything as we traveled underground.

  When we reached the chamber we’d sought, we found what we were looking for. Thousands of them.

  Zye grabbed up an armful of the clattering steel tubes and hugged them to her breast.

  I looked on, understanding her emotion but finding it strange to witness all the same. To her, these tubes were children, infants. The very stuff of Beta life encapsulated.

  Zye turned to me, and I thought I saw a touch of wetness at the corners of her eyes—but that might have been due to the stinging cold. She’d refused to wear a mask.

  “Thank you, Will,” she said. “I knew you wouldn’t let them die.”

  I smiled, and I patted her arm awkwardly.

  Together, we ushered the Astra agents into the chamber and put them to work. They bent and filled sacks with tubes.

  One of the agents stopped me when he had as many as he could carry. He gave me a baffled look.

  “Captain…what are we supposed to do with these things?”

  “Keep them frozen,” I said brightly, “and don’t let Zye see you drop one if you value your existence.”

  He turned and saw Zye eyeing him fiercely.

  After that, the agents worked with more precision. They handled each of the tubes gently after plucking them from the ice with exaggerated care.

  * * *

  A few weeks later, I met with Admiral Halsey on Araminta Station. He squinted out a massive viewport down onto the blue-white swirl that was Earth’s dayside face.

  “Congratulations on your advancement to full Admiral, sir,” I said.

  “Hmm? Oh yes, thanks. Make yourself comfortable, Sparhawk.”