Warborg - Star Panther (32 page)

“You were there!”

“Yes, we had tactical surveillance ships in the area. Remember, we’ve had the level of technology you now see the whole time we’ve been observing you humans. For a long time we had free rein in you occupied space with no fear of detection, your technology just wasn’t advanced enough to be a threat.” Burp noticed the look of disgust on Martin’s face. “Major, things have changed a lot, especially with you humans.” Burp hesitated. “Major, I know this is a bitter pill but stay with me. It gets a little worse from your viewpoint then a whole lot better.”

Don’t let your ego cause trouble. We need to know this, as a kick in the crotch, nauseating as it is. At least Burp’s giving it to me straight.
Martin nodded in stony silence.

“One thing we noticed is your instinctive suspicion of anything that comes too easy. So when we realized we, the humans and the Koth, were out of time with the Rhome we needed to spur your space combat capabilities. And the only way we could come up with was to attack. While observing your rebellion we noted where as your technology was lacking, your strategies and tactical adaptability were mind boggling to us. So we had to give you technology in such a way as you would accept it, you had to earn it. We couldn’t send in our state of the art warships because you wouldn’t be capable of fighting them, so we retrograded the ships we sent in hoping you would advance your technology on your own to the point where we could realistically lose some ships for you to study. And you did, rather more quickly than we had anticipated I might add.”

“Ya know Burp, so far this discussion kind’a sucks,” Martin grated.

Burp faded slightly for a moment. “I know . . . but now we come to the good stuff as far as your progress is concerned. As I said, your ships were of an entirely different concept than any we had seen before, and we assumed you would convert to our type once you had some samples. It never occurred to us that you would adapt our technology into your ships. The problem with your ships wasn’t the concept; it was the lack of technology in their subsystems. When you humans upgraded your power systems, thrusters and weapons your ships rapidly became much more formidable.

And that brings me back to the point of technological advantages verses tactical advantages. At the moment our ships still have a technical advantage; they’re quicker and more maneuverable. But we have realized your ships have many tactical advantages; they’re more heavily armed, they can perform complex maneuvers ours cannot and they can sustain much more damage and still be operational. It wasn’t very long before we had to send in our latest technology to stay ahead in the battles. We had to keep pressing so you would continue advancing.

Then came the cyborgs and at that point we knew we couldn’t win with technology alone. But we didn’t need you ready to fight us, we needed you ready to battle the Rhome. So we took a page from their playbook and started sending in much greater numbers of ships, knowing full well our losses were going to be horrendous. But it had to be done.”

Martin could only nod while he considered what Burp was telling him. It was both disturbing and interesting. He knew that if the humans and the Koth survived the Rhome, historians would have a field day with this period of history, second guessing and arguing over every little nuance. “So have the Rhome been advancing technologically?”

Burp’s colors swirled for a second. “Not really, left to their own devices they are still using the same technology as they did in the battle with the others with just a tweak here and there. Ironically they’re main advances came courtesy of us. Remember a several years back when we introduced the enhanced proton cannon?”

A momentary cold knot formed in Martin’s stomach. It was right after we had joined the force when the Koth sprang a new secret weapon that was decimating their ships. It was total panic among all the forces. Eventually the Federation managed to acquire some samples and neutralize the threat; but it was hairy for a period of time. Martin refocused. “Oh yeah, I remember.” His voice had a slight accusatory tone.

“Well . . .” Burp seemed to be at a loss for a moment at Martin’s tone. “That weapon was one of our developments for use against the Rhome a long time ago and for a short period of time it worked well. Then they acquired the weapon technology the same way you did; from wreaked ships. But what happened next really shows the difference between the human and the Rhome mentality. The Rhome deployed the new weapon for use against us and that was it. You humans deployed the weapon the same as the Rhome, but you also sought ways to mitigate the damage from the weapon in an effort to save ships and lives. The Rhome basically just didn’t give a damn about their ships and pilots, just the destruction of their enemies.”

“Nice guys,” Martin snickered. “You’ve bent my ear for quite a while, and it has been interesting. But what is this really all about? What’s the Koth endgame?”

Burp became a kaleidoscope of color bursts. “Our endgame as you call it. First of all, we needed you humans ready to square off against the Rhome in head to head combat. Now with the development of ships like the Star Panther and the gunfighters piloted by cyborgs you are more than a match for them. One of the reasons we abandoned the fight with you humans is because it is now suicidal to engage you. We have gotten to know the human race fairly well; you are a pragmatic lot. Due to our different and completely incompatible environments we have little fear of confrontation with you. We want to form an alliance with the humans; not just to fight the Rhome, but for our mutual benefit at all levels.”

“You have a really strange way of enticing us into an alliance . . . even a friendship between our people. So let me ask you this; What’s in it for us to stick our necks out for you?”

Burp’s colors exploded. “I thought you would never ask . . . and please get this to you command. After watching your wars, large and small, we learned a lot. One of the things we learned to do was hold our cards close to our vest concerning how we deal with the Rhome. For a hundred years we’ve been analyzing your weapons and other technology and combining what we learned with ours. We have learned through bitter experience that we don’t utilize new technology in tactically sound ways and it has come back to bite us many times. So we have a whole new class of technology that no one has ever seen except us; and we want to incorporate it into your ships. In a nutshell; we’re offering to give you our expertise in existing and future technology as you define the requirements in exchange for driving the Rhome out of the system. We think with your abilities and our technology we can be through with the Rhome once and for all.”

Martin smiled. This he could understand. “So you want us to drive’em off, or kill’em off if required, so we can all live happily ever after?”

One solid brass colored ring raced down Burp’s head. “Yep.”

Martin leaned back and smiled. “I can’t speak for the others, but it sounds like a hell of a deal to me.”

“I’m still not sure I get it,” Byron mused, lounging in a chair aboard Martin’s yacht. “If they knew all about us humans, why did they grab the four of us? They should have know all about cyborgs.”

“Like Steve said a while back; We cyborgs were very problematic to them.” Martin slouched back in a couch with Prowler sleeping on the armrest on one side and Gypsy curled up in her familiar ball leaning against the other. “They simply didn’t trust us, thinking the whole cyborg thing might be some kind of sophisticated ruse hiding something else.” Martin smiled. “One of the things they’ve come to realize and respect is our duplicity. Especially how we utilize deception as a weapon.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize sneaky was a good social trait.” He smiled. “But I guess all’s fair in love and war. Did they every get around to explaining how the can communicate with us so well, their speech patterns are almost perfect?”

“I’ll second that, and they didn’t get that way watching ancient Gilligan’s Island reruns.” Gypsy nodded. “You have to interact to get to their level of perfection.”

Martin laughed. “I asked them about that and their answer was so simple I damn near laughed myself out of my seat.” He grinned with the memory. “For years they talked to amateur radio operators.”

Steve’s eyes bulged. “Oh my God, so these hams were CQ’ing and getting responses from others with bad English or whatever and not thinking a thing about it. That’s just too rich,” he laughed. “If they had known who they were trying to talk to they’d have pissed their pants.”

“Anyway, that’s how they learned to talk to us.” Martin shrugged. “The reason I called this pow-wow was to fill you guys in. Now that the Federation and Koth Command are talking they’re starting to put together a game plan. From what Commander Briton tells me some of the high ranking officers and a few of the civilian leaders were really upset about the Koth’s strategy with us, but for the most part things are moving along. For the moment the Federation wants us to sit tight. The Koth are modifying a computer system somewhere to host the cyborgs, when they get it done the Federation is going to transfer your environments so you should have your homes back and we won’t have to rely on the Star Panther for the high level common environments. Unfortunately we’re just too damn far away to tie into the federation cyborg network, so it’ll just be us for awhile. The Koth were very apologetic, they never realized you guys were so isolated.”

“Do they still want us to fight along side the Koth?” Byron asked intently.

Martin nodded. “They said to use our best judgement . . . and try not to get killed.”

“Bozo’s, this is Koth Command.” The voice rolled out of the communication system.

“Speak of the devil,” Byron laughed.

“Go, Command.” Steve responded with a glance at Martin.

“We have seven Rhome sweepers en route to the enclave, ETA fifteen minutes. Can you respond?” Koth Command asked quietly.

“Seven,” Byron wheezed. “My ship’s still messed up so it’s just the three of you . . . against seven of them. This is bad.”

Martin smiled. “Steve, tell’em no. I’ve got a better idea . . .”

. . .

The seven Rhome sweepers approached the enclave in formation, one in the center and the other six spaced around it with their main weapons just overlapping. Normally the robot ion ships would start spewing their massive clouds of ions to deaden the effect of the main weapons, this time they entered the detection barrier and met no resistance.

Suddenly the Rhome were hit by a simultaneous barrage of the FTL field disrupting interceptors. Their main weapons destroyed all most all of the interceptors before they could detonate, but the few that did detonate did their job. All seven sweepers were trapped in normal space for the few seconds it took them to re-establish their FTL fields. They never got the chance. The instant the interceptors detonated several dozen Koth heavy cruisers dropped into normal space just beyond the range of the sweeper’s main weapons and opened fire. Although they were beyond the accurate range of the heavy pulse cannons, what they lacked in accuracy they made up for in sheer quantity. All seven sweepers were decimated without ever engaging the Koth.

. . .

A display beeped for an incoming message and Martin created a large display they all could see. A Koth appeared.

“Holy schmoly, Martin,” Byron wheezed in wonder. “You weren’t kidding when you said they were incredible.”

“Major.” The Koth greeted.

“Burp. I presume.” Martin smiled up at the display.

“Correct, nice to see you again. And these must be the Bozos.” Burp continued affably.

“Yep.” Martin nodded. “Burp is my Koth liaison. Burp this is Captain Steve Harlin, Captain Gypsy Rae and Lieutenant Byron Lacy.”

They each nodded a greeting as they were introduced.

“Nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you, but have never had the pleasure of communicating with you.” Burp hesitated. “Captain Gypsy Rae . . . are you a female human?”

“Last time I checked.” Gypsy grinned. “And just call me Gypsy.”

Burp seemed confused. “You have to check your gender periodically? I didn’t realize you changed back and forth.”

Martin laughed. “No, Burp. She’s kidding. We stay the same sex our whole life.”
Except for Alysis, but I don’t think I want to confuse the poor guy.
Martin smiled at the thought.

Burp hesitated. “Gypsy, could I ask you to stand up next to one of the others.”

Martin and Gypsy shrugged at each other and stood up.

Burps colors swirled. “Fascinating, I knew there was a size difference, but I didn’t expect it to be so apparent. The observations from the primitive video displays just don’t do it justice.”

Gypsy grinned at Burp. “I’m small, even for a female.”

“Yet you bear the young?” Burp asked, not sounding sure of himself.

Gypsy nodded.

“Utterly fascinating. Thank you.” Burp’s colors slowed down. “Martin, the reason I contacted you was to let you know we tried your new tactic.”

Steve leaned forward in his chair. “How did it go?”

“It was unbelievable. We destroyed all seven of the sweepers and didn’t lose a single ship.” Burp answered enthusiastically, his colors raced around.

“All right!” Byron interrupted.

“Our top leaders were in awe, never before have we defeated sweepers, let alone a group of them so quickly and without loses. With the Bozos’ help we have done much better, but nothing like this.”

“Just glad I could help.” Martin smiled.

“We almost didn’t follow your advice. Using a weapon that had failed previously against the sweepers, because we sent them in too few at a time, then obliterating the whole area with inaccurate, but concentrated, cannon fire just didn’t seem logical.” A fantastic rose color seeped up Burp. “We just wanted to say thank you for showing us another use for that stick.”

“Burp,” Steve asked, “how come we’ve never seen any Koth sweepers?”

“Because we only built two.” Burp answered without elaborating.

“And you sent them both against the humans.” Martin added in contemplation.

“Yes, that’s correct.” Burp continued. “We needed you to develop a defense against them, but they’re inefficient against the Rhome because they travel in such small groups. A large group of Rhome is five or six ships, most of the time they travel singly or in pairs only gathering just prior to attacking.”

Martin raised his eyebrows. “Any idea why? It makes them easy targets for roving patrols.”

“We think it’s because the Rhome are actually made up of several smaller groups, or clans, and they don’t seem to get along too well. So they stay separated right up until an attack.” Burp’s colors faded slightly. “And as imbecilic as it seems looking back, we Koth never sent out hunter killer groups after the small groups until we saw you do it. The thought just never occurred to us to hunt them down before they attacked.”

Byron rolled his eyes. “Geez Burp, I thought you’ve been fighting with these guys for a thousand years.”

“Until we found you we thought we were.” Burp faded to a sallow green with streaks of paler colors. “We now understand why the Rhome always considered our kind a nuisance instead of a threat.” The Koth’s voice was quiet.

I’m beginning to understand some of their colors. These hues mean shame.
Martin felt a pang of sympathy for Burp with the thought. “Hang tough, Burp. We’ll get you guys up to speed as true blue death merchants . . . the scourge of the Rhome universe.” He finished with a laugh.

Several bright aqua rings raced up and down Burp as he burst out laughing. “Somehow, I just don’t see us Koth in that role. Death merchants, ho boy, I don’t think so.” The Koth settled down and grew more serious. “I think that’s a more human role.”

Gypsy looked at the faded Koth as she curled back up on the couch and offered a gentle smile. “I suspect this upcoming war with the Rhome is going to be a long nasty affair and you Koth have a major role in this partnership. We humans may be the death merchants, but we need someone to keep us technologically ahead and maybe be a voice of reason now and then.”

Burp settled into a beautiful swirl of pastels and hesitated before he spoke. “That is something we can do . . . and do well.”

Byron laughed. “That’s the real deal. Us humans, especially the warborgs, augmented with Koth technology will be hell on wheels.” The group fell into contemplative silence.

“So how goes the official dialog between our people?” Martin asked casually, breaking the silence.

Burp sighed as several fiery orange streaks lashed his coloring for a moment. “Slowly, I’m afraid. I find you so easy to talk to, yet the leaders on both sides can’t seem to get anything done. All they want to do is argue over trivial matters.”

“Politicians,” Byron grumped. “I guess they’re all the same no matter where they come from.”

Burp’s colors slowed for a moment as he thought. “I’m afraid you’re right, we don’t have true politicians like you mean, but our leadership sure fits the profile.”

“I think sometimes they get so wrapped up in the details they forget we got a war to fight out here.” Steve muttered. “But the Rhome sure ain’t going to forget it.”

Another incoming communication buzzed. Martin looked over at a display. “Hey, Burp. That’s our command.”

“Ok, nice meeting you Bozos.” Burp’s colors swirled for a second then he disappeared.

“He . . . she . . . it, oh hell what does it matter anyway, seems like a nice sort.” Steve laughed. The rest nodded in agreement.

Martin brought the communication up on the display, to his surprise a slightly distorted Commander Briton looked down on them. “Commander, I apologize for the delay. I expected a text message and we were talking to my Koth counterpart.”

There was a barely noticeable lag in the response. “That’s perfectly all right Major, I wasn’t sure we’d be able to communicate at all. We’re using a Koth ship as a repeater.”

Martin’s eyebrows shot up. “Awful cozy, awful fast.”

“True Major, but things change.” Briton smiled. “The Koth have sent us a lot of data on the Rhome. You were right, these troops are just plain bad news, although there were some testy questions about you taking out three of them without communicating with Command first. A few of us bent the truth slightly telling them there was no time, other warborgs were in danger. It’s water under the bridge at this point. Speaking of the other warborgs, I assume that’s who’s with you. My display is very noisy.”

“Yes, Sir.” Martin nodded. “Commander Briton, this is Captain Steve Harlin, Captain Gypsy Rae and Lieutenant Byron Lacy.” They stood at attention and nodded to Briton as they were introduced.

“Very well, as you were. Please be seated. I’m glad you all are there, for the moment you will be directly under my command.” Briton continued as they sat. “I realize at this time the Star Panther is the only ship capable of communicating directly with the Federation, but we’ll get something worked out. The Koth have proven to be very accommodating, at least at the tactical level. Major Morgan will not become part of your group.”

“Sir.” Steve spoke up. “Would you mind if we retained the squadron designation Bozos? We’ve kind’a gotten attached to it.”

Briton smiled. “Of course not, the Bozos it is.” He winked at Martin and laughed. “Major Morgan is part of the Jester squadron, and their late sister squadron were the Clowns.” He shook his head. “So I guess the Bozos just fit right in.”

The three Bozo warborgs smiled at each other in silent delight. “Thank you, sir.” Steve nodded toward Briton.

“I contacted you to tell you that you won’t be alone for very long.” Briton’s eyes glinted through the noise of the display. “We’re sending several hundred warborgs to your location. Mainly fighter class. The Koth didn’t want any bio manned ships in the area for the time being, but we convinced them we should bring at least a medtech unit so we’re bringing up one base ship. All other support will be supplied by the Koth.”

“Why no manned ships, Sir?” Byron asked.

Briton smiled at his new pilot. “The Koth want to keep the Rhome in the dark as much as possible about us humans for as long as possible.” Briton unconsciously nodded. “A tactical decision I agree with whole heartedly with, given the circumstances.”