Renegades (Expeditionary Force Book 7)

by Craig Alanson

  Also, I was depressed about what Simms explained to me, that we not only needed to kill the two targets ships, we also had to dream up a reason the Maxolhx would consider the loss of two powerful warships was nothing to worry about. So, basically I decided to tackle the problem of getting a Maxolhx dropship, so I could postpone worrying about all our other problems.

  We needed a plan. “Hey Skippy,” I tossed a tennis ball off the far wall of my office, caught it and tossed it again. Tossing the ball helped me think, and more importantly, it annoyed the hell out of Skippy. Especially when I changed my aim so the ball bounced off the table, against the wall and back onto the table before I caught it. The beer can hated that move because as the ball bounced off the table, it went right through his oh-so-dignified avatar.

  “Damn you!” He shouted as the ball bounced through his ginormous hat. “Stop doing that!” On a regular basis, his bots snuck into my office or my cabin and stole the tennis balls, but I got more from Simms, and Simms made Skippy give back the ones he had hidden. We only had like, four hundred tennis balls aboard the ship, a bright idea from UNEF although they maybe hadn’t bothered to ask whether the Flying Dutchman had a tennis court, which it didn’t. Perhaps UNEF thought we should convert a cargo bay into a racquetball court, though curiously our supplies did not include racquets. Bureaucracy strikes again!

  Thwock, the ball hit the wall and came back. “Gosh, I am terribly sorry.” Thwock, again. “This annoys you?”

  “Joe, it would be truly unfortunate, if a combot busted through this door and tore that stupid ball away along with your freakin’ arm, if you know what I mean.”

  “Ok, Ok,” the ball went back under the desk. “Now that I have your attention, tell me how we can get a dropship. A Maxolhx dropship, not another lame Thuranin one like we have. And don’t bother rehashing arguments we already had.”

  “I have no ideas for stealing a dropship from the Maxolhx, because theft is the only possibility. We can’t buy, rent, build or find one, so we have to steal.”

  “Uh huh, I figured that all by myself, Skippy-O. Where and how can we steal one?”

  “Again, I have no idea. The last time we needed a ship, you had the idea to go recover three abandoned Kristang transports. You got any whacky concepts like that now?”

  “No. Seriously, Skippy? You know the galaxy, and the Maxolhx, way better than I do. Use some of that monkey-brain logic you have learned.”

  “There is nothing logical about the way monkeys think, Joe, that is why it works. The universe is coldly, relentlessly logical, so it can never understand how you monkeys accomplish the impossible every. Freakin’. Time! I swear, the universe regrets that Earth’s solar system ever coalesced from a loose cloud of interstellar gas. If the meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs had been just a little bit bigger, it could have-”

  “Yeah, blah blah blah, the universe can bite me,” I emphasized the sentiment by flipping the bird at the ceiling, an instinctual notion of the universe being above my head.

  “You should not tempt Fate like that, Joe,” Skippy shook his head, his admiral’s hat bobbing alarmingly. If it had been a real hat, it might have fallen off.

  “Fate has not been my friend either. We monkeys have had to survive without any help from the universe or fate or- You know what?” I pushed my chair back and started to unzip my pants. “I’ve got something for Fate right here-”

  “Jeez Louise, Joe! Put it away. Damn, nobody wants to see that,” he covered his eyes with both hands.

  I zipped my pants up. “I was joking, Skippy, I am not joking about Fate or the universe or any shit like that. You keep hinting that what you call,” I used a deep and dramatic movie trailer announcer voice, “The Universe, is a real thing. Like, a living thing with a mind of its own, that intervenes in our lives and defines what ‘Luck’ really is. It drives me freakin’ crazy that you won’t or can’t tell me, tell us.”

  “Joe, can we be serious for just a moment? A moment is all I can take for being serious with a primitive meatsack like you.”

  “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “Part of the issue is that I can’t tell you what I mean when I say the universe hates you, and that you have no idea what ‘luck’ is. Restrictions in my programming make it difficult for me to explain the concept of- Well, there it is. My stupid programming just intervened again. But part of the issue is that I don’t want to explain it to you, because I actually care somewhat about you filthy monkeys. That shows how pathetic my life has become,” his voice got choked up and he paused to sob a little. “I hate my life. Anywho,” he perked up again. “Knowing the true nature of what you call ‘reality’ would be too dangerous for your species, and your society. You have to trust me on this, I am withholding this information because it is truly in your best interest.”

  “I do trust you, Skip-”

  “And only a little bit because it is so funny to screw with you,” he added with a chuckle because he is Skippy.

  “You are such an asshole.”

  “It is my burden, Joe, but I bear it gladly.”

  “How about you bear the burden of being helpful, huh? I’ll make it easy for you. Is there any place in the galaxy, hopefully in this sector, where the Maxolhx have ever abandoned equipment, like a dropship? Starships they would probably self-destruct if they had to abandon one, but dropships can’t be that important?”

  “Hmm, let me check my memory. Um, yes. Yes, there are several places that has happened. Unfortunately, almost all those places were abandoned a long, very long time ago. Any dropships there would be so old and obsolete, they would cause suspicion for us to use for approaching a Maxolhx facility.”

  “Almost all?” I asked excitedly. “That means there are other such places that are more recent.”

  “One, Joe. One. There is one such place, and it is not even worth mentioning, because it is such a hard target. No way could this ship and a half barrel of monkeys could assault the place.”

  “Assault? Why would we need to assault anything? You dumbass, I asked you for places the Maxolhx have abandoned. Duh.”

  “Yes, the Maxolhx have abandoned this place. That star system has subsequently been occupied by the Bosphuraq, DUUUUUUH.” He did the slack-jawed Homer Simpson thing again, this time adding his fingers in the form of an ‘L’ for Loser on his shiny forehead.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Egg-zactly!”

  “Show me what you know about this place anyway.”

  “Joe, I think your time would be better spent by exploring options that might actually be possible, rather than-”

  “I will be the judge of what is possible, beer can. Show-” Just then, Smythe strode past my open doorway, on his way forward. “Smythe! Come in here, please.”

  “What is it, Sir?”

  “Skippy knows of a place where there is a Maxolhx dropship with low miles and an extended warranty, but he tells me to forget this golden opportunity, because the target is too tough a nut for us to crack.”

  “He may be right about that. Considering the operations this dodgy beer can has recommended we do try-”

  “Hey!” Skippy protested.

  “Then if he thinks it is impossible, we should believe him,” Smythe concluded.

  “The impossible is our specialty,” I grinned.

  “When we had our full, experienced crew maybe, however-”

  “I am disappointed, Colonel Smythe,” I said with an exaggerated frown, sticking my lower lip out. “I thought the SAS motto is ‘Who dares wins’.”

  “Correct, Sir. The motto does not read ‘Who does stupid shit wins’. Discretion can be the better part of valor, I have learned that through painful experience.”

  “Then consider this a useful ‘What If’ planning exercise. If nothing else, it can serve to inform us what not to do in the future.”

  “Yes, Sir,” he sat down just a bit stiffly.

  “Right,” Skippy used a stuffy English accent. “What we have here is a bloody diffic
ult target, this will be a sticky wicket-”

  Seeing the frown on Smythe’s face, I interrupted. “Can you talk normally, please?”

  “Ugh. Fine. In this tough situation, I thought you cretins might appreciate hearing the inspiring tones of Winston Churchill-”

  “That was Churchill?” Smythe snorted. “Winston’s mother possibly. Or his dog.”

  The avatar glared at our SpecOps team commander. “This is the thanks I get for-”

  “Skippy?” For once, I was happy that someone else had pissed off the beer can. “Stick to the subject, please.”

  “Fine. Look at the display, dumdums. There is nothing special about this star system, it is a yellow dwarf, no habitable planets, blah blah blah. The Maxolhx had a research station underground on a small moon orbiting the second planet, which is a barren rock, about eighty percent of Earth’s mass. It looks to me like the Maxolhx intended to use that star system for testing advanced weapons, but they changed their minds when a wormhole shift two hundred and seventy years ago opened a wormhole less than three lightyears away, that leads into Rindhalu territory. The Maxolhx did not like the possibility that Rindhalu ships had such easy access to spy on their weapons research, so they abandoned the place. Because they did not want to attract attention, they left much of their equipment in a cavern they excavated deep under the surface of the moon, and only buried the tunnel entrance. Flash forward a hundred fifty years, when the Bosphuraq decide to use that system. Their plan was to use that isolated and otherwise useless planet to produce atomic-compression warheads, which is a technology the Thuranin have and the Bosphuraq very much want. Work went very slowly, with multiple accidents that damaged the planet’s crust and produced no real progress, until twenty nine years ago. At that time, the Bosphuraq either captured a Thuranin missile with an intact atomic-compression warhead, that is their unlikely story, or the Bosphuraq purchased the technology from some sleazy group of Thuranin. Whatever. What matters is, for the past twenty years, the Bosphuraq have been making steady progress toward creating atomic-compression devices with military yields, and they are now trying to scale up the process to full production. From the data I have seen, those birdbrains are more likely to crack the planet in half than to crank out useful quantities of weapons, but they didn’t ask me.”

  That did not sound good to me at all. “How many Bosphuraq are there, and what type of defenses do they have?”

  “Not many Bosphuraq, Joe, I estimate less than two hundred in the entire star system. The facility on the planet is still in the research phase, so mostly they rotate teams of scientists in and out. To protect the research station on the planet, there is a military base on the moon, and two very powerful space stations in orbit. Those three armed bases prevent hostile forces from accessing the base. Plus, the research facility is well-protected with powerful maser cannons and an energy shield. That is why I say this target is too hard for us; the energy shield over the planet, and the ones covering their space stations, are too strong for the Dutchman’s masers to penetrate. To make things more interesting, that moon was towed into geosynchronous orbit by the Maxolhx. Its weapons are always directly over the facility on the planet.”

  “I believe you. The cavern where the Maxolhx left the dropship, how far underground is it, and where is it in relation to the moonbase?” he showed us, and I whistled. “That’s no good.” The cavern entrance was six hundred kilometers from the moonbase, over a tall range of mountains. That was good. What was not good was the annoying fact that cavern entrance was always in line of sight from the two space stations at any time. To get down to the cavern, we needed to move a lot of moondirt, and we would be vulnerable while the dropship flew up the access tunnel. The Bosphuraq could not miss us messing around on the moon. No, the only way the whole plan could work was for us to take out the two heavily armed and armored space stations, plus the moonbase and the facility on the planet. We could not do that.

  Or could we? “Skippy,” I traced a finger over the orbits of the two space stations. Their orbits allowed each station to support the other station plus the moonbase, those three were always within line of sight of each other. “What type of weapons are the space stations and the moonbase equipped with?”

  “The two stations are basically battleships converted to static defense, so they are stuffed with ship-killer missiles, maser and particle-beam cannons, plus railguns. The weapons of those stations are capable of punching through the shields of almost any hostile ship and disabling that ship in one volley. I am talking about ships of equivalent technology, of course, although even a Maxolhx ship might be in danger. The moonbase has even more powerful railguns and maser cannons.”

  “Heavy weapons, huh?” My lips curled up in a smile, and I saw Smythe sit back in his chair with a grin. “Tell me, could the weapons of that moonbase knock out the two space stations,” Smythe nodded because he knew what I was thinking. “And destroy the facility on the ground?”

  “That is an idiotic question, since the Bosphuraq have no intention of using their own weapons on- Ohhhhhh, I see where you’re going with this, Joe. You plan to infiltrate the moonbase, take over its weapons, and use them against the other facilities? Holeee-shit,” he tipped back his ginormous hat.

  “Quite so,” Smythe nodded curtly.

  “We plan,” I wanted to squash the SAS man’s premature enthusiasm before it swept us both into doing something rash, “to consider the possibility.”

  “Unless you know of an easier way to get this Maxolhx dropship?” Smythe asked with an expertly-arched eyebrow.

  “No, I do not,” Skippy admitted. “I also do not know of an easier way to commit suicide. Attempting to seize control of that base would be extremely difficult.”

  “Wow,” I leaned back in my chair. “That is already a big improvement. We started with a mission that was impossible, now it is merely extremely difficult. This should be a piece of cake, then.”

  “That is not what I said, monkeyboy,” Grand Admiral Lord Skippy glared at me. “Oh, crap, now we are all doomed.”

  “Why?” I didn’t understand his gloominess. “We haven’t decided what to do yet. We don’t have a plan, Skippy.”

  “No, you don’t have a plan, but that doesn’t matter. Colonel Smythe has that look in his eye that he gets before he, as you say, ‘does crazy shit’. The Special Air Services are a crack outfit when it comes to executing an operation, but they are very reluctant to admit there are limits to what determined men can do. That ‘can do’ attitude sometimes gets them swept up in things they actually can’t or shouldn’t do. The worst part is you, you big dope.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. You are so jealous of the Special Operations teams, you go into full fanboy mode around them. You always let them do whatever they want.”

  “I do not!” As I said that I gave a guilty glance toward Smythe and he tactfully looked away. Shit. Was Skippy right about that? Did I have a blind spot about our elite SpecOps people? “Hey,” I protested, “I have instructed Smythe and his team leaders not to take undue risks when they are-”

  “Yeah, blah blah blah,” the beer can scoffed. “When is the last time you disapproved something the SpecOps team proposed?”

  “Um, uh-”

  “Egg-zactly. During our black op to spark a civil war, you approved a truly lunatic plan for teams to drop missiles off roofs in the middle of a crowded Kristang city.”

  “Just a minute, beer can,” now he was pissing me off. “You approved that plan too.”

  “No, I merely said it was possible for me to perform my part of that crazy plan. I never said it was a good idea.”

  “That was,” Smythe remarked dryly while brushing a speck of lint off his trousers, “the best plan we had at the time.”

  “It was still way too risky, and Joe is the commander. He should have dreamed up a better idea. He doesn’t do anything else around here,” Skippy added with extra grumpiness.

  That didn’t sound right. Tilting
my head at his avatar, I asked “Skippy, what’s wrong?”

  “Your crazy plans always require me to perform miracles, Joe. Someday I am going to reach into my bag of tricks and find it empty.”

  That still sounded like bullshit to me. Skippy never failed us. If he said he could do something, he could. We never set a plan that required him to do something he wasn’t confident about delivering. “What is really wrong?”

  “Oh, Joe,’ he sighed. “I worry about you, about all you Pirates. You are setting yourselves up for soul-crushing disappointment. Even if, by some miracle, you infiltrate that Bosphuraq moonbase without being detected before you can take control of the weapons, and use those weapons to destroy two other well-defended military bases, what then? Remote sensors in that star system will detect the explosions and send out an alert, the Bosphuraq have unmanned message courier ships that will jump out to signal for help. You will need to move quickly to dig down into the cavern where the Maxolhx kept their equipment, before enemy ships arrive to spoil the party. Then you have to hope the dropships that got left behind are in flyable condition, and-”

  “Whoa. Wait a minute, go back to that last part.” Taking on an impossible or just extremely difficult mission was worth the risk only if we got the expected reward. No way was I going to risk people’s lives, risk our only starship and risk exposing our secret, if the only reward we could get was a busted dropship. “You don’t know whether the dropships the Maxolhx left in storage there are spaceworthy?”

  “Well, the Carfax report says those dropships were not in any major accidents that caused airbags to deploy, so we can be sure that- No, you dumdum, of course I don’t know the condition of those ships! They are not ‘in storage’ as you said, they got abandoned. After the wormhole shift made that location uncomfortably easy for the Rindhalu to access, the Maxolhx did not want to draw any attention to their presence in that system. So, they quietly left most of their equipment behind and slipped away. That is why even now, the Bosphuraq do not have any idea that their patrons were ever in that system. And that is the only reason there is a cavern filled with Maxolhx goodies buried beneath the surface of that moon.”