First Strike (20 page)

He couldn't take his eyes off the sight, part of him praying that the Funks would succeed in entering quantum space. All differences were forgotten. For a moment, it looked as though they would succeed, but then the energy feedback grew too powerful. Brilliant lightning seemed to flare along the hull of the heavy cruiser, just before her hull split open and she vanished in an eye-tearing ball of light. The entire universe seemed to hang in the balance… and then the distorted gate vanished, as if it had never been. His sensors couldn't even detect a trace of debris from the heavy cruiser.

“All ships,” he said. His voice was weak and he had to swallow hard before continuing. “All ships, return to the barn. It’s time to go home.”

Behind them, a handful of Canary ships watched carefully as the gunboats retreated. They’d probably take what had happened to the Funks as proof that their religion was the one true faith. He couldn't understand how anyone could refuse to leave their solar system, if only because one day their star would die. The Canaries would have to choose between changing their religion or dying when their worlds were swallowed by an expanding red giant. But that was millions of years in the future. Perhaps they would discover how to keep their star burning long before then.

Formidable
 
was already heading towards the quantum gate when the gunboats docked, their crews glad to be alive. Nine gunboats had been lost; there would be a number of empty bunks in Pilot Country tonight. They’d have to scratch one of the squadrons unless reinforcements were rushed forward from Earth. He doubted they could do that again unless they got some extra support. The Hegemony had already made progress towards tactics that would allow them to confront the gunboats on more even terms.

* * *

That night, they performed a brief service for the dead gunboat pilots before heading to their bunks. There was little space for private cabins on
 
Formidable
, although even if that space had existed the military was unlikely to have used it for crew comfort when a few more missiles could have been carried instead.

One thing had arrived before they left the system; the mail. Markus had plenty of family back on Earth and most of them had written to him, although typically most of the messages were several days late when they arrived. The military censored letters going from the crew to their families, but – in theory – the civilians shouldn't need to be censored. They didn't know anything more than Earth’s news services had been telling them – and
 
that
 
was heavily controlled.

He skimmed through the message from his sister as Carola read her own messages. Earth seemed to have taken the news about the war in stride, although there had been some panic and massed peace demonstrations in major world capitals. Markus rolled his eyes as his sister recounted how a number of her girlfriends had been in the middle of a protest in Stockholm and ended up spending the night in jail. Some of the girls were hot, but their combined brainpower had been drained away by a school that seemed to specialise in turning brains into mush. Quite what they thought the Hegemony would do if it ruled Earth was beyond him. Terra Nova’s experience offered some clues.

“Idiots,” he muttered dryly as he prepared for bed. “Stupid idiots.”

“We condemn in the strongest possible terms the human intrusion into the Light of God,” the Canary intoned. “It has long been our determination to remain aloof from the power struggles among those who have not embraced their own Lights of God…”

Ambassador Li Shan allowed herself a tired smile as the Canary – an atheist, apparently – kept speaking. She’d been nervous as soon as she’d realised that the Commune was due to call an emergency session on the issue of the Human-Hegemony War, if only because the Funks were calling in debts from the last few hundred years, but the Canary didn't seem inclined to offer more than a token protest. It wasn't too surprising – he’d been the one to tip her off about the two ships in the first place – and yet she’d been all-too-aware of the sheer level of diplomatic arm-twisting from the Hegemony. The Canaries were better able than most to resist that sort of pressure, but they literally had all their eggs in one basket. Who knew what sort of pressure the Hegemony could bring to bear against them?

The Association had envisaged the Commune as a form of United Nations, a forum where different races could meet and discuss their issues openly, without needing to resort to violence. But few of the major powers were prepared to allow the Commune to dictate to them, while every race had veto power to derail anything they didn't like. The result had been inevitable from the start; the Commune was nothing more than a talking shop. But that didn't stop hundreds of races from using the chamber to cut deals of their own.

Shan had hoped that pressure to stop the war would grow slowly until the Hegemony was prevented from retaliating against Earth. She had no idea how long Earth’s tech advantage would last against the Hegemony’s overwhelming force; ideally, Earth would be able to keep the Hegemony off-balance until the other Galactics intervened to stop the fighting. But it didn't seem too likely that any outsiders would become directly involved. The motives were different for each race – and some were incomprehensible – yet the results were the same. No one would attempt to stop the war.

The Canary finished speaking and sat down, while the Ambassador from the Kockoo stood up. Several of the other Ambassadors looked irritated, not even bothering to try to hide it. The Kockoo were an old race, old enough to be on a par with the Cats – or they would have been, if they’d developed spaceflight before the Cats discovered their system. Their sense of entitlement was larger than an entire fleet of superdreadnoughts, as was their tendency to filibuster until they got what they wanted out of any political dealing. They were widely disliked, which didn't seem to bother them. Shan’s few meetings with their Ambassador had suggested that they were simply too arrogant to care.

“While we deplore the act of invading Heavenly Gate to force the surrender or destruction of the two Hegemony starships, we are forced to reluctantly conclude that it was legal,” the Kockoo said. Her voice was sweet, trickling honey, but there was something about it that grated on Shan’s mind. “However, we refuse to accept that violence was in fact the answer. There were legal avenues for the human race to seek redress before resorting to war. In choosing to refrain from following those angles, it is clear that the human race is nothing more than a grievously savage half-barbarian race using technology obtained from the most advanced race in the universe.”

She half-bowed towards the Speaker, the sole Cat in the chamber, and then continued speaking. “The laws of war, laid down by our great founders, insist that combatants must issue a declaration of war prior to launching any offences against enemy-held territory,” she continued. Shan wondered absently what sort of deal the Hegemony had made to get the Kockoo to intervene, before deciding that it was unlikely that they’d made any kind of deal. They were arrogant enough to believe that they needed to intervene without being bribed. “In choosing to launch a sneak attack on the Hegemony, the human race violated that rule. I propose the creation of an independent committee that will investigate all breaches of galactic law and recommend action on the part of this great Commune.”

Shan was careful to keep her face impassive as the Kockoo sat down. She couldn't tell if the threat was serious or just a political power play. It would be just like the Kockoo to fiddle while Center burned down around them. Their sanctimonious attitude made them few friends and far too many enemies, but there were quite a few Galactics who had been disturbed by the weapons humanity had used in the war. They wanted time to consider how to duplicate them for themselves. It was a pity that the Federation had embargoed weapons technology from Earth, or she could have made a thousand deals for support from other Galactics. But that technology was Earth’s ace in the hole and it could not be surrendered.

Another Ambassador, the masked and gowned representative from the Shimmering Harmony, rose to bow to the Speaker. No one knew what the Shimmering Harmony looked like, for they always concealed their bodies from other intelligent races. Their homeworld was situated in the midst of a powerful and semi-permanent energy storm within quantum space, making it tricky for anyone to approach without a very skilful navigator. The other races had legends about them, but no one actually knew anything beyond the fact that their Ambassador was clearly humanoid. Exactly why they’d decided to join the Association was another mystery.

There was no shortage of legends about them, tales of explorers who had visited their homeworld and seen wonders beyond imagination, but none of them had ever been verified. A number of Galactics believed that the Shimmering Harmony was really nothing more than another humanoid race, concealing itself out of fear that the more active races would overwhelm them if their true nature was discovered. Others suspected that the Shimmering Harmony were much more than they seemed. They didn't participate in cultural exchanges, they didn't make war upon their neighbours… for one of them to speak publicly was very rare. Just seeing their Ambassador speak would make the other Galactics interested in the war.

“It is clear that the Hegemony was slowly preparing the human race for eventual servitude,” the Ambassador said. Even the voice was flat, atonal, as if it had been produced by a primitive computer. “They were given little choice, but to fight.”

He – if the Ambassador
 
was
 
a he – sat down, saying nothing else.

There was a long pause before the Hegemony Ambassador, Great Lady Vanla, rose to her feet. “It is true that we have been attempting to obtain settlement rights for Sector 666, which includes the human homeworld,” she said. “However, it was never our intention to enslave them. Why, the client races within the Hegemony have the same rights and duties as other client races across the Association. We would never stoop to
 
enslaving
 
any race.”

“And yet refugees from your client races frequently seek asylum in our space,” another Ambassador put in. It was a serious breach of protocol to speak before the last speaker had finished. “You use them as expendable labour, in violation of the rights granted to all client races by the Association Charter. We can hardly fault the humans for wanting to escape the fate of your other
 
slave
 
races.”

He smiled, savagely. “Indeed, is it not accurate that you were censured by the Commune on no less than three occasions for mistreatment of your clients? Your protests ring hollow when much testimony was produced by the refugees.”

“Who were paid to lie before the Commune,” Great Lady Vanla snapped. She didn't bother to rise, an equally unsubtle insult. “You brought them after preparing them with lies to blacken our name.”

Shan watched with some amusement as the Ambassadors shouted at each other. The Cats had designed the building so that the merest whisper could be heard at the other side of the chamber. In one sense, the Ambassador was quite right; the Funks
 
had
 
been censured for the mistreatment of their client races. But the Galactics hadn't done anything beyond issuing a reprimand, allowing the Funks to just carry on without needing to worry further about Galactic opinion. Even the Hegemony would have backed down if it had faced the entire galaxy, but there had been no prospect of such an alliance against them. How very…
 
human
.

The debate could last for hours, or even days. Many of the Ambassadors had spent years at Center, some of them under instructions not to bother coming home. They had far more experience with navigating the complex web of favours, obligations and outright bribery that steered the Commune from one issue to the next. Shan had never been sure if the Galactics realised just how badly they’d emasculated the Commune, and hence the Association, but it worked in their favour. No single power could bring them to heel.

Shaking her head, she settled down to wait. It would all be over sooner or later, and then she could get back to some real politicking.

* * *

The Tarn had always reminded Shan of hamsters, albeit hamsters that walked like humans and had hands that were surprisingly dexterous. Earth’s hamsters were harmless, but the Tarn had been at the top of their food chain for centuries before they’d started to climb into space and discovered the Association. They’d been lucky enough to expand into a fairly undeveloped region of space, allowing them to claim almost a hundred stars before they’d bumped into the Hegemony. The Hegemony could probably have taken them if they’d had secure borders, but diverting enough of their navy to invade the Tarn would weaken them significantly against two other races. Even so, brushfire wars were common and the Tarn had a vested interest in anything that made the Hegemony weaker. Some of them had been quite willing to trade with humanity ever since Mentor had offered humanity the stars.

Shan hadn’t been too surprised when Warf – it was as close as humans could come to pronouncing the Ambassador’s name – had invited her for a private meeting in the Commune Chambers. The Hegemony had been watching Earth’s Embassy since the declaration of war and no doubt taking careful note of who visited Shan. Shan had her own people watching the Hegemony Embassy as well. But inside the Commune Chambers it was much harder to spy on the others, although that didn't stop people from trying. Humanity’s counter-surveillance equipment was staying ahead, so far. Shan reminded herself firmly that there was no real proof they were that advanced. Some of the Galactics kept their technology to themselves.

Warf’s meeting room looked rather more informal than anything a human would have considered acceptable. There were cushions, a small pile of foodstuffs positioned on the floor between them and several jugs of water. The Tarn sealed agreements through sexual intercourse, at least among themselves, although they’d changed that policy since discovering the existence of other intelligent life. It didn't stop some humans speculating on just what human traders did to win favour from the Tarn. Some people, in Shan’s opinion, had too much time on their hands.

“It should be noted that Warf is speaking off the record,” Warf said. His voice was surprisingly human. “Those who rule the nest will disown Warf if necessary.”

“I understand,” Shan said. The Tarn always referred to themselves in the third person, but they didn't seem to mind when other races spoke in first person. Just one of the many racial traits that the Association had cataloged thousands of years ago. “You may speak freely.”

“Warf is very impressed by the scale of your victory and the recovery of your lost colony,” Warf said. “But Warf is worried that you will be unable to continue fighting and winning the war. Warf thinks that the Hegemony is still powerful and that you have barely dented it. Is Warf wrong?”

“Warf is not wrong,” Shan said. She always got confused when she tried to speak like a Tarn, but Warf seemed to appreciate it. “But we have many other tricks to show the Hegemony in the coming weeks and months. We will be victorious.”

“Warf is gratified to hear that you have so much confidence,” Warf said, “but Warf fears that the Hegemony will prove too much for you. Warf wishes to deal on behalf of his people.”

Shan leaned forward, scenting the deal. “Warf’s people are inferior to the Hegemony in numbers of ships,” Warf said. “A war would be destructive for Warf’s people. Warf wishes access to your weapons for his people’s navy. You may name your price.”

It was tempting to string Warf alone, but the Tarn had long memories. “Our weapons are not for sale,” she said, finally. “However, we have much else to offer you.”

“Warf feels that this is a matter of survival,” Warf said. “Should you lose to the Hegemony, your people will be enslaved or exterminated. Your technological progress will be added to the Hegemony’s fleet, making it deadly enough to defeat Warf’s people before others can intervene. The Hegemony will make itself master of the galaxy. This is intolerable to Warf’s people.”

“Then join the war,” Shan suggested. “Invade their space from your borders as we push on towards their homeworld. We could crush them between two angles of attack.”

“Warf feels that your people cannot sustain such a long offensive,” Warf said. “The Hegemony has not yet started to redeploy units towards the war front. Warf believes that your forces will rapidly run into much heavier defences as you press onwards. Should you fail to cripple their industrial base, they will out-build you and crush your tiny fleet by sheer weight of numbers. Warf feels that you cannot afford to bargain.”

“I have no room to negotiate over selling our weapons,” Shan admitted, even though she agreed with Warf. The real question would be how quickly the Tarn could copy humanity’s weapons and outfit their ships with them. And if the Hegemony realised what was happening, they might launch a pre-emptive attack on the Tarn. “I would have to communicate with my superiors.”