The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) (19 page)

Not that it matters,
she reminded herself. 
We’re not going to remain in the system for long
.

“Inform the fleet that we will now proceed to Phase Two,” she said.  “The starships attached to the out-orbit task forces are to separate themselves from the fleet and proceed as planned.”

She gritted her teeth.  The allies wanted
blood
- and they’d be reluctant to follow her standing orders, if they ran into superior firepower.  Hoshiko saw no reason to throw her ships away for nothing, but aliens who wanted revenge - and also to show up their allies - wouldn't be so careful.  But there was nothing she could do about it, but hope the liaison officers she’d provided would be enough to keep tempers cool. 

Win the war first
, she told herself. 
Revenge can come afterwards
.

“Confirm,” she ordered.  “The industrial nodes and fabbers didn't attempt to engage the ships.”

“Confirmed,” Brown said.  “They did not attempt to engage our fleet.”

The Tokomak never thought to outfit their industrial nodes with weapons
, Hoshiko thought, grimly. 
But their former slaves might have different ideas.

“Order the marines to board and storm, if the workers refuse to surrender,” she ordered, tightly.  Taking the fabbers intact would be a considerable coup, adding their industrial capabilities to her forces.  But if the Druavroks were lying in wait, ready to either fight to bleed her forces or simply blow up the fabbers as soon as the marines boarded, it was going to be costly.  “If they meet significant resistance, they are to withdraw and the fabbers will be destroyed.”

“Aye, Captain,” Brown said.

Hoshiko winced, inwardly.  The Galactics would be shocked at the thought of someone blowing up a fabber, even though it was a legitimate tactic of war.  They were just too important, after all.  The Tokomak might just have left their fabbers unharmed to ensure that attacking forces had no
reason
to open fire on the giant orbital factories.  They would probably have assumed the attackers would have no time to turn the fabbers against them, if they could hack their way through the security codes, before reinforcements arrived from deeper within the empire. 

Which is what happens
, she thought savagely,
when you have so much power you can organise reality to suit yourself and to hell with everyone else
.

She shook her head in droll amusement as the fleet closed in on the fabbers, readying the marines for launch.  The Tokomak had been knocked back by the Battle of Earth, shocked and terrified by the outcome of what should have been a walkover.  How long would it take them to put together a second fleet, far larger than the first?  And how long would it take humanity to invent something that would turn their entire fleet, hundreds of thousands of giant battlecruisers, into so much scrap metal?  The Tokomak had been stagnant for so long that they probably couldn't innovate, even if they tried.  Given enough time, humanity would steamroller over the Tokomak and claim their place in the universe.

“The marines are ready to launch,” Brown reported.  “And they have that reporter tagging along.”

“Understood,” Hoshiko said.  “Tell them to jump once we’re in range.”

***

“The marines are ready to launch, sir,” Biscoe said.  “Captain Stuart has cleared them to jump as soon as we enter range.”

“Understood,” Griffin Wilde said.

He looked down at the near-space display, trusting the bridge crew to alert him if the situation suddenly changed for the worse.  The remains of three battlestations and countless automated platforms were drifting in orbit, a sizable percentage slowly drifting into the planet’s gravity well.  Griffin wouldn't have cared to be under the pieces of debris when they finally entered the planet’s atmosphere and plunged to the surface, even though only a small percentage of them would survive the fall.  There were so many large pieces of debris that they would be almost certain to hit
something
...

And even if they don’t
, he thought,
adding so many atoms to the atmosphere is bound to cause a great deal of damage
.

He cursed under his breath as he accessed the live feed from the drones hovering high over the planet, peering down at the aliens far below.  The KEW bombardment had done immense damage to the planet’s facilities, almost certainly making it impossible for the authorities to ship food around the settlements or keep the planet under control.  God alone knew how the Druavroks organised themselves - Griffin didn't care to know - but a human planet that had been bombarded so badly would probably fragment. 

Like Earth
, he thought. 
Only worse, perhaps
.

It wasn't a pleasant thought.  Griffin knew what
he’d
like to do to a race that had done so much damage to humanity - and he had to assume the Druavroks agreed.  Tit for tat was rarely a workable rule in the real world ... and, in any case, the Solar Union hadn't been attacked.  The Druavroks would find it harder to give up the war, assuming they wanted to in the first place.  Nothing the doctor or the intelligence officers had dug up suggested the Druavroks could be talked into a truce. 

And they will come for revenge
, he thought, bitterly. 
What choice do they have
?

“Commander,” Biscoe said.  “The marines are launching now.”

“Understood,” Griffin said.  It was a distraction from his worries, but he knew it wouldn't last.  “Keep me informed.”

He understood Hoshiko’s desire to intervene, both to protect fellow humans and to ensure the Druavroks never had a chance to threaten the Solar Union.  But the price ... humanity might wind up embroiled in a war at the end of a very long supply chain ...

... And facing a long war with an alien race that wouldn't hesitate to commit genocide if it won.

Chapter Eighteen

Federal American troops encircled Dearborn,
Michigan, after an Islamist vigilante group came out of the shadows and declared an Islamic state.  Reports from the ground are confused, but videos and statements uploaded to the datanet suggest that the group has already begun ethnic cleansing the city.  However, there are strong suspicions that the federal government allowed the group to take power to provide a convenient rallying cry to restore federal power.  The Governor of Texas has already declared the uprising nothing more than a fraud.

-Solar News Network, Year 54

Max felt ... claustrophobic.

He’d been in the suits before, during his military service and the landing on Amstar, but this was different.  He was trapped in the darkness, unable to move, unable even to take control of the suit while it rested in the launch tube.  If he’d
known
they wouldn't be making a formal combat drop, or taking a shuttle, he might have had other ideas.  But he hadn't checked before it was far too late.

He felt the urge to scratch his nose as he wondered just how long he'd actually been in the tube.  His implants insisted that it had only been five minutes since Hilde had shown him to the tube, helped him to get inside and then slammed the hatch closed; his mind was sure it had to be longer, far longer.  He’d never felt so isolated in a combat suit before, even though he knew objectively he was wrapped in a suit of armour that would protect him from hundreds of threats.  But then, the combination of implants and VR projectors made him
feel
as though he wasn't trapped, even though he knew he was.  The tube, on the other hand, left him feeling as though he’d been locked in the darkness to die.

“Do not speak unless you’re spoken to,” Hilde had told him.  “We’re operating under strict radio silence.”

Max shuddered in the confines of the suit.  He had to fight the urge to contact one of the other marines, even though he knew it would have cost him his chance to be embedded with them in the future.  In hindsight, he should have loaded a game or two into his implants, running a program that would have distracted him from his confinement.  Or he could run a program that would keep him calm, despite the risk of accidentally putting himself to sleep.  Brain-modification programs weren’t forbidden in the Solar Union, but they were considered dangerous in a combat zone.  And to think he’d
volunteered
for the assignment!

Hilde wouldn't be impressed if you backed out
, he told himself.  He’d spent a great deal of time with Hilde over the last few days, growing more impressed with her every time they spoke.  There was a bluntness about her character that appealed to him. 
But then, she wouldn't be impressed with you anyway
.

He jumped as a voice echoed through the suit.  “Five seconds to launch,” it said.  “Five seconds to launch ...”

There was a sudden wave of pressure as the suit was ejected from the starship and hurled towards their target, a fabber hanging against a blue-green orb.  Max let out a sigh of relief, then cursed inwardly as the suit’s automatic systems slaved him to Hilde.  He tried to follow the icons as the fabber grew larger, a five kilometre-long structure, but rapidly found it impossible.  The suit was jerking from side to side, in anticipation of defensive fire, as it closed in on the fabber.  He closed his eyes as his perspective shifted, knowing better than to risk allowing the sudden change to disorientate him, then opened them again as a new timer appeared in front of him.  Ten seconds until landing ...

“Watch yourselves, but only fire if fired upon,” the major said.  A dull
thump
echoed through the suit as it touched down on the fabber.  “The enemy may just throw in the towel.”

Max doubted it very much, but he kept that thought to himself.  He’d
seen
the Druavroks hurling themselves forward, trying to bury the marines under their dead bodies ... and they’d kept coming until every last one of them was dead.  The idea they’d just
surrender
the fabber was absurd, not when even a civilian-grade fabber would be a prize well worth the lives of a dozen marines.  And if they knew the Tokomak codes could be bypassed, they’d have
very
good reason to keep it out of human hands.

And they’ll try to find a way to copy those codes for themselves
, he thought, as he fell back and allowed the marines to take the lead. 
They may not think much of any other races, but they won’t be able to deny the advantage it gives us
.

He kept his eyes wide open as the marines placed disintegrator charges on the giant hatch, where completed products were released into space, then stepped back as the field turned the metal into dust.  The marines plunged forwards, weapons at the ready, but no one greeted them with a hail of fire.  Max followed them, peering into the darkened chamber as tiny sensor drones raced ahead, sending their live feed back to the suits.  It was crammed with boxes of produced goods - there was no way to tell what they were, without opening them up for inspection - but there was still no sign of the enemy.  The marines advanced carefully forward, one of them - a young woman who’d flatly refused to talk to him - opening up an access hatch and inserting a modified hacker core into the fabber network.

“They’ve locked their system, Major,” she reported.  “It’s going to take the hackers some time to crack their codes, unless someone has an AI hidden up their sleeves.”

“Let the intelligence staff handle it,” the Major ordered.  “Fall back into position.”

Max felt the tension rising as the marines reached the far end of the chamber and began to work on the hatch leading into the crew quarters.  Unless the Druavroks had changed the original design, the vast majority of the crew would live in a separate - and somewhat isolated - compartment, allowing them to be rounded up without delay.  He rather suspected they would have scattered themselves throughout the fabber, if they were intent on delaying the inevitable, but the major had his reasons for wanting to secure the crew compartment first.  The hatch clicked open ...

... And a horde of Druavroks emerged, firing madly.

“Take them out,” the Major ordered. 

Max stared in horror.  The aliens were wearing masks, rather than suits; didn't they
know
they were charging right into a depressurised bay?  They
had
to have known, he told himself, even if they’d cut though all the safety precautions.  Bypassing the hatch would have set off all kinds of alarms; hatches would be slamming closed further into the fabber, just to prevent the rest of the structure from depressurising.  His suit jerked as it was slaved to Hilde’s suit, his weapons coming up and opening fire of their own accord.  One by one, the aliens were blasted to the deck before they could do any damage.  None of the marines were injured.

“Move forward,” the Major ordered.  “Quickly!”

Max followed, knowing that Hilde could override his commands and take control of his suit any time she wanted.  Inside, the crew compartment was a mess.  He couldn't help thinking of a water bird’s nest, although - with the temperature dropping rapidly - ice was forming everywhere.  The Druavroks liked it hot, according to the briefing; lowering the temperature, even for a short period of time, would be enough to make them miserable.

“Maybe they liked playing in the mud,” one of the marines commented.  “Those showers look better than ours.”

The Major led the way forward, picking his way through a second set of hatches.  This time, the airlock had been left intact; inside, the atmosphere was suitable for most humanoid races, although the suit reported traces of a number of dangerous elements.  The marines sealed the hatch behind them, just to make sure the fabber didn’t depressurise further, then kept moving forward.  There was no sign of anyone else until they turned a corner and ran into an ambush.

“Sniper,” Hilde snapped, as a plasma burst shot down the corridor.  “Only one, but in a good position.”

She launched a grenade down the corridor, then ran forward as soon as it exploded.  Max followed her carefully, barely noticing the remains of the Druavrok plastered against the bulkhead.  Several more snipers popped up, each one slowing the marines for a few brief moments, but inflicting almost no damage at all.  The only minor casualty was a marine whose suit was damaged, forcing him to return to the first chamber and wait for pickup.  And then they punched their way through a set of sealed doors ...”

“Max,” Hilde said.  She sounded genuinely angry.  “You’ll want to come see this.”

Max hesitated, then slipped forward and peered through the doors.  The compartment was crammed with bodies, hundreds of bodies.  None of them were Druavroks, he noted dispassionately, using his implants to keep his emotions under control.  He didn't recognise half the races gathered in the compartment, but all of them were dead.  His suit flashed up a warning as he stepped forward, identifying a deadly nerve toxin that would be lethal to almost every carbon-based race.

“Keep your suit sealed,” Hilde warned.  “You could have the full spectrum of combat biomods and nanites and you’d still have problems if that toxin touched your bare skin.”

“I understand,” Max said, feeling sick.  He’d known the Druavroks had no problems committing genocide, but this ...?  The workers had been slaves, worked to death and then gassed when there had been a prospect of rescue.  “What sort of monsters are we fighting?”

“A race that cares nothing for anyone, even themselves,” Hilde said.  “Keep that in mind when you write your report.”

“Major, this is Locke in Intelligence,” a new voice said.  “I’ve isolated the hacking protocol that should let me take control of the fabber.  Permission to proceed?”

“Granted,” the Major said.  “Download the live feed from any internal sensors into the combat network.”

Max followed Hilde back out of the compartment and into combat position as the gravity and lights flickered, briefly.

“I have direct control,” Locke reported.  “It looks as though the Druavroks were attempting to blow the reactors, but civilian-grade units aren't designed for rapid destruction.  I’d prefer to power them down, sir.  The engineers can bring them back up after you’ve finished sweeping the fabber.”

“Understood,” the Major said.  “Can you open all the hatches and vent the atmosphere?”

There was a pause.  “I can, Major,” Locke said, finally.  “But that would kill the remaining Druavroks ...”

The Major snorted.  “Are there any non-Druavroks left on the station?  If not, vent the fabber and save us the task of hunting them down and killing the bastards.”

“Understood, Major,” Locke said.  Max couldn't help thinking that he sounded oddly reluctant to kill the last Druavroks, even though he
knew
what they’d done.  “There aren't any other races on the station, save for you and the bad guys.  I’m overriding the safety protocols and opening the hatches now.”

Max smiled, rather coldly, as red icons flashed up in front of his eyes, warning him that the atmosphere was steadily draining into the vacuum of space.  The fabber was vast - it would take some time for the atmosphere to vent completely - but the Druavroks would have no time to muster further resistance or get into suits before the cold overcame them.  He wondered, absently, if he should feel guilt, then reminded himself that the Druavroks had casually massacred their slaves just to keep them from being rescued.  There was no way to know what drove the monsters, but they
were
monsters. 

And some bastard in the future will probably say they weren't
that
bad
, he thought, as he hastily reviewed his recordings.  One of Old Earth’s many problems was an upswing in revisionist history, including attempts to suggest that the great men of the past should have been guided by the morals and ethics of the present. 
And that we were the ones who introduced the toxin, not them
.

He scowled at the thought, then followed the marines as they carefully swept their way through the remainder of the structure.  The Druavroks had set up a handful of traps, but none of them were particularly lethal.  They simply hadn't had the time to turn the entire fabber into a battleground.

“Interesting,” Locke said, through the communications network.  “It looks as though they were attempting to circumvent the Tokomak security codes.”