First Strike (14 page)

The park had once been Gagarin City’s pride and joy. A group of settlers had brought flowers and trees from Earth and planted them in the heart of the city, in front of the town hall. It had been beautiful before the Funks had destroyed it, burning the entire garden to the ground. Now, fencing had hastily been erected around the blackened soil and used to construct a POW camp. Inside, several hundred Funks sat listlessly, their bodies inhumanly still. They never wasted a movement, Tobias knew; it was a point of pride with them that they never wasted anything. Their homeworld had never encouraged conspicuous consumption.

Outside, a handful of Marines held their weapons at the ready, guarding the POWs. At least the Funks could be fed on human rations, making it easier to feed the prisoners. They could eat a far wider range of food than humanity, another legacy from their homeworld. Some races could only eat foodstuffs from their homeworld, or grew sick if they didn't eat precisely the right food every day. Feeding them would have been a great deal harder even with Association-level technology. No one had yet managed to produce something out of nothing.

The Town Hall had been patterned after the White House, although it was far smaller. There had been a minor scandal when it had first been designed, as critics had pointed out that the Governor only really wanted a spectacular mansion for himself. The Governor had been replaced at the end of the year, but the Town Hall had been completed just in time for the Funks to take over the planet. They’d installed the worst of the collaborators in the Town Hall and used them to administer the planet. A human would have used the building for himself. Tobias couldn’t tell if the Funks didn't like the Town Hall, or if choosing to place their Governor in their garrison had been a security decision. Or perhaps it made perfect sense from their point of view. The supreme commander should have the securest possible accommodation, if only to intimidate possible opponents.

Inside, a handful of Marine intelligence specialists were moving from room to room, removing papers and computer processors from the Town Hall. The spooks would work their way through them and extract any useful intelligence, although Tobias doubted that they would turn up anything interesting. Whatever else could be said about the Funks, their operational security was very good. They didn't tell their people anything unless their superiors believed that they needed to know.

“Admiral,” Jones said. The Brigadier had ditched his armor as soon as the main body of fighting came to an end, like most of his men. “Welcome to Terra Nova.”

Tobias smiled. They’d won the battle, even if the war would go on. The Hegemony would probably know that it was at war by now. He’d sweated bullets over the timing of the declaration of war – it might have come too early or too late – but it hardly mattered. The report from
 
Formidable
 
had confirmed that the Hegemony base hit by the gunboats had passed on a warning before it was destroyed.

“Thank you, Brigadier,” he said. “It’s great to be here.”

Jones smiled. “We found someone in the basement you’re going to want to meet,” he said, and tapped his wristcom. “Send her in, please.”

The door opened... and Tobias stared, all decorum forgotten. It had been years since he’d seen Judy, and she’d aged from the girl she’d been as a child, but he recognised her at once. He swept her up into his arms and hugged her tightly, kissing her forehead. His daughter was alive and well!

“I knew you’d come,” Judy whispered. Tobias felt hot tears pricking at his eyes. “I waited for you and you came!”

“I came,” Tobias said. It was suddenly very hard to speak. “I came for you.”

“Apart from
 
Tirpitz
, which was completely destroyed, all of our cruisers suffered only minimal damage,” Commander Sooraya Qadir reported. It was a day after the Battle of Terra Nova. “Captain Tallyman estimates that repairs to
 
Woodward
, the most badly damaged of our cruisers, will take no more than three days now that the Fleet Train has entered orbit. We could advance against the next target once repairs are completed.

“However, five destroyers were lost,” she added. “Two of them hadn't been refitted with the reinforced variable shield generators that gave the rest of the fleet additional protection, but all five of the lost ships were picked off by the superdreadnoughts as they closed in on their attack runs. They just don’t have the defences to stand in the wall of battle.”

“We knew that when we went in,” Tobias said, flatly. He would have loved to visit Judy’s farm – the Funks had arrested her after discovering that she was involved in the resistance – but there was no time. The news about the war was already out and spreading. “And the Marines?”

“One hundred and nineteen died in the assault on the garrison,” Sooraya informed him. “The largest single loss was the destruction of a shuttle before the Marines had finished bailing out, taking out fifteen Marines and the shuttle crew. Thirty-seven have also been injured severely enough to merit a return home to where they can receive proper medical care. They’re currently in stasis in the Fleet Train.”

Tobias nodded, sourly. Every one of the Galactics with ambitions to replace the Cats as the dominant race in the galaxy maintained a Fleet Train, a fleet of supply and transport starships that supplied their navies as they advanced away from their homeworlds. Humanity, on the other hand, hadn’t had the time or resources to do more than improvise a fleet train from commercial freighters and a couple of mothballed deep-space survey ships purchased from the Association. Given time, he had no doubt that the Federation Navy would build a proper supply fleet of its own, but they would have to make do with what they had for the moment.

“The Hegemony lost two superdreadnoughts outright, a third wrecked beyond hope of repair and two more that surrendered,” Sooraya added. “By any standards, it was the most one-sided victory in recent galactic history. We took over nine
 
thousand
 
prisoners from the superdreadnoughts alone and the spooks are already cooing over what they’ve managed to extract from their computers. We...”

Tobias held up a hand. In one sense, she was right; it
 
had
 
been a one-sided victory. But losing
 
Tirpitz
 
inflicted more proportional damage to the Federation Navy than the loss of five superdreadnoughts to the Hegemony. The balance of power, at least on paper, favoured the Hegemony, something the other Galactics would consider when they started thinking about who to support. So far, there had been little reaction from anyone else apart from a bland statement condemning the violence from the Association Commune. No one knew how the Hegemony would react to the defeat they’d suffered.

“Those are minor priorities, right now,” he said. Earth had no superdreadnoughts, but while he was tempted to repair one of the captured ships and add it to his fleet, he knew that it would be worse than useless. Superdreadnoughts were ponderous brutes while his cruisers were light, fast and armed with superior weapons. There was no way to justify the cost in resources it would take to repair the captured ships. They’d be better spent on the new construction in Earth’s orbital yards. “The priority is to advance on Garston.”

The planners, those few who had known about Kryptonite, had been divided on the question of mounting further assaults. Some had pointed out that Earth had no claim – legal or moral – to Garston and that taking the planet would give the Hegemony a chance to score a major propaganda coup. Others had insisted that only hitting the Hegemony again and again would convince the Empress to back off, and that delaying the advance would give the Funks a chance to reinforce the threatened sectors. Tobias had clung to the middle ground until the decision actually had to be made. His fleet had won one battle and it was largely intact. They could advance before reinforcements were dispatched from the Hegemony.

And there really wasn't any other choice.

But there was a problem. The Hegemony was small compared to the Association, but it still held upwards of five hundred stars and trillions of Funks. There was little hope that humanity would be able to overrun and occupy it all, even if that didn’t provoke intervention from the other Galactics. They would have to come to peace terms eventually, or the Hegemony would eventually grind them down and push humanity all the way back to Earth. Pressing the offensive might guarantee that the Hegemony couldn’t discuss peace… and one of his private nightmares was his fleet advancing further and further, until it was cut off from Earth and trapped.

“Contact the commanders,” he said, finally. “Inform them that I wish to depart no less than one week from today.”

It would require superhuman effort to prepare the fleet in time, but it had to be done. Remaining static at Terra Nova, as the Hegemony might have done, was merely asking for defeat. They had to remain on the offensive...or risk losing the war.

“And then have the Marines send up the enemy commander,” he added. “I want to have a word with her.”

The psychologists swore blind that the Funks would recognise and understand their own ancient conventions. Sending a captured leader back to his – her – side was a gesture of contempt, a gesture that suggested that the enemy leader was of no value to either side. But he wasn't so sure. Anyone who had seen human weapons in action would at least
 
know
 
what was possible, even if she didn't know how. They could be giving the Funks a free gift, an intelligence bonanza, simply by sending her home.

He shrugged. The alien wouldn't be released until the next battle. By then, some of humanity’s surprises would be known to the Galactics. And the others wouldn't have been shown to the Funks until they were deployed into combat.

And, again, there really was no other choice.

* * *

How
 
had
 
the humans become so advanced?

The question tormented her, overriding even her concern for her own safety. Lady Dalsha knew what would have happened to any important prisoners taken by the Hegemony; they’d be brain-sucked and whatever was left of them afterwards would be dumped into the nearest star. Most of the prisoners the humans had taken were nothing more than ordinary males, ones never trusted with any secrets, but she knew how much she knew. The armored humans who had taken her into custody would probably not hesitate to do whatever it took to dig information out of her mind.

But even that might be a preferable fate to what would happen to her if she returned home. The hunt for a scapegoat was the Empress’ favourite choice of sport, if only to maintain her own position. After all, being ultimately responsible for the most disastrous defeat in the Hegemony’s history would weaken her position… and then the rest of the aristocracy would start sharpening their knives. The Empress would put the blame on the officer who’d been in command - Lady Dalsha – and then have her brain-wiped and thrown to the males. There was no worse punishment in the Hegemony.

The humans had treated her reasonably well. They’d given her edible food – not always guaranteed when dealing with aliens – and enough water to keep her alive. The air was cooler and wetter than she preferred, but the human ships were so small that setting up a comfortable atmosphere in the brig would probably be impossible. Besides, the part of her that remembered the times when her ancestors had searched frantically for water knew that she should be grateful. Not all worlds were as harsh as the one that had given birth to her race.

She looked up as two humans entered the brig and stopped in front of the forcefield holding her inside. They both wore armor, concealing their repulsive human features. It was impossible to tell if they were male or female; with humans, anything was possible. They believed in the equality of the sexes. It was an absurd concept to her, but humans were an alien race. Surprises had to be expected.

The forcefield vanished with a crackling sound. “You will come with us,” one of the humans said. “Do not attempt to resist.”

Lady Dalsha rose to her feet with as much dignity as she could muster and allowed the humans to lead her out of the cell. The interior of their starship was painted an uncomfortable shade of white, with data terminals and consoles everywhere. It was so unlike one of the Association-built ships that the sheer alien nature of the humans was brought home to her. No Hegemony-built ship would have scattered data terminals around for the crew. They might have found something that was not suited for junior eyes.

She wanted to ask questions, but she had a feeling that the humans would refuse to answer her – assuming that they knew the answers. The Hegemony kept its juniors ignorant; many Galactic societies did the same, leaving the seniors in power to keep the system running. Instead, she kept silent and watched, hoping to see something that would unlock the secrets behind the alien ships. She saw nothing, but humans. If they’d obtained technology from another race, their unknown benefactors had not chosen to serve on their vessels. Perhaps they didn't want to be seen by the Hegemony, or perhaps the humans had stolen the technology from someone else. It seemed impossible that any race could advance so far, so quickly. Even the Cats had taken thousands of years to work out a gateway into quantum space.

The guards halted outside a sealed hatch, which opened a second later. Lady Dalsha stepped into the room and stopped, looking around her in surprise. The human commanders were given smaller living spaces than Hegemony males on superdreadnoughts, something that puzzled her. How could the superior be superior if there weren't clear marks of her – his – status? The human seated behind the desk rose up and nodded to her escort, speaking to them in one on the human tongues. There
 
were
 
translation programs that could handle human languages, but she had none. They’d taken everything before they’d brought her onboard.

“Welcome onboard the
 
Nimitz
,” the human said. The human naming conventions for their starships puzzled her. Why name starships after their ancestors when there were so many ideals in the universe? “I am Admiral Tobias Sampson, commanding officer of this fleet.”

Lady Dalsha felt her claws itch under her scales. She wanted to lunge forward and tear into the human, but she knew that his guards would stop her instantly with their suit-augmented strength. The results would be painful, and humiliating, at the very least.

“I am Lady Dalsha,” she said, finally. “You have attacked my ships without provocation.”

The human snorted. “I think we both know that there was ample justification,” he said. “The important detail is that we won and took you and your surviving crewmen prisoner.”

“So you did,” Lady Dalsha agreed. The Association had tried to enforce certain rules when it came to dealing with prisoners, but she was uneasily aware that those rules were often flouted. “I should remind you that the Empress will not look kindly upon any mistreatment of my crewmen and myself.”

The human smiled, barely showing his teeth. “Do you think that she would love us any better if we didn't mistreat you?”

Lady Dalsha waved one hand in the air, absently. “I am your prisoner,” she said. “Why have you brought me here?”

“I wish you to take a message back to the Hegemony,” the human said. “It is possible that your Empress will continue to fight the war, even after we have established our superiority in weapons systems. I want you to tell her that she can have peace, instead of getting her fleet slaughtered when it tries to counterattack. We don’t really want anything apart from Terra Nova – and it’s back in our hands. There can be peace.”

Lady Dalsha stared at him. The human had to be insane – or ignorant. There was no way that the Empress would accept the loss of Terra Nova, not without trying to recover it. If human superiority wasn't clearly demonstrated – and it hadn't been – the Empress couldn't surrender Terra Nova without looking weak. The war would continue until the human race was crushed. Their new weapons, wherever they had come from, wouldn't be enough to even the odds. She’d seen enough to have a good idea how to counter their tricks.

But the Empress wouldn’t know everything. She hadn't been able to get a signal out before the humans had forced her to surrender; everything she knew about the human tactics and technology would be useless, unless she managed to take the information back home. And if the humans were prepared to let her go…

“I will certainly take your message to the Empress,” she said, slowly. “But you have attacked us savagely, striking from the shadows. We will not take that lightly.”

“We didn't take Terra Nova lightly either,” the human said. “We will provide transport for you from here to Garston.” He smiled, as if there was a joke in his words she couldn't understand. “I’m afraid the military base there has suffered an… accident… but you should be able to find a civilian ship willing to take you the rest of the way home. Or you could pass on the message through the communications network. I dare say that one of the other Galactics in the system will agree to let you use their transmitter.”