A Learning Experience 2: Hard Lessons (27 page)

He smiled, then went on.  “1
st
and 2
nd
Platoons will be responsible for crushing the remains of the PDCs, assuming they survive the missile strikes.  3
rd
and 4
th
Platoons will be charged with securing the dumps; 5
th
and 6
th
Platoons will secure the spaceport and capture as many grounded freighters as possible.  Our designated reserve, 3
rd
Platoon, 4
th
Company, will provide fire support and a reserve on the ground, if necessary.  We will hopefully be able to call on firepower from orbit, but it depends on how the battle goes.

“We believe” – he nodded towards the intelligence officer – “that most of their manpower on the ground is actually composed of client races, slaves in all but name.  Try to take as many of them alive as possible, but remember that some of them will be loyal to their masters, even if they are treated worse than shit.  If they want to come with us, and we have the lift to take them, we will give them a chance to settle in the Solar Union.  The remainder will be given life support packs and told to wait for the Tokomak.”

“They’ll come with us, surely,” Private Abdul said.  “The Tokomak will blame them for the disaster.”

“They might not,” Martin said, before he could stop himself.  “People sometimes prefer to remain in misery rather than take a chance on finding something better.”

Abdul turned to stare at him.  He wasn't the only one.  “Why?”

Martin hesitated, struggling to put it into words.  It wasn't something the Solar Union’s citizens would understand, not really.  Their society allowed someone to vote with their feet; if someone didn't like their Canton, they could simply go elsewhere.  This fundamental right was part of their society, a society that had more than enough room for everyone.  Hell, if someone really hated the rest of the Solar Union, they could even set up an asteroid home of their own.  But on Earth ...

“It's a very human attitude,” he said.  “Someone becomes downtrodden enough, they stop thinking that life can become better.  They stay with abusive partners, maybe because they’ve been twisted to the point they actually think their partners love them.  Or they stay and wallow in shit because they don’t think there's anything better.  It takes drive and determination to escape on Earth ...”

He hesitated, again.  “Because even being abused and enslaved is a kind of safety,” he added, although he wasn’t sure if he was right.  “They know their place and they will stick to it, because they feel safe there.”

“That’s absurd,” Abdul said.

“But very human,” Major Lockland said.  He cleared his throat.  “We will, of course, be running simulations over the next two weeks.  However, each of those simulations will be different, because we cannot afford to become complacent.  Hades is going to become an important naval base, as far as the Tokomak are concerned, and they may have moved other unpleasant surprises to the targeted world.  We must assume the worst.”

Martin nodded.   He’d done live combat drops over Mars, as part of the later stage of his training, and he knew – all too well – just how easy it was to fuck up, even if someone did everything right.  A single ground-based weapon, even a cutting laser, could slice a Marine in half, while plasma cannons or heavy phase cannons could vaporise their targets.  No matter their best efforts to remove random chance from the deployment, it might easily prove their nemesis.   They would have to plan and practice on the assumption that half the company wouldn’t make it to the surface.

And we might lose our commanders too
, Martin thought.  They’d run simulations where the Major and his Lieutenants were knocked out of commission and they’d always been near-disasters, even if the senior Marine took command at once. 
This time, we won’t be facing holographic weapons.  We’ll be facing real foes
.

“A question,” Private Atkinson said.  “Are they preparing for war?”

“They haven’t been attacked in thousands of years,” the intelligence officer said.  “We believe they honestly won’t consider that we might take the offensive.  However, they may be taking standard precautions anyway.”

“So we might catch them with their pants down or they might greet us with a hail of fire,” Private Atkinson said.  “They would see us coming, wouldn't they?”

“Yes,” the intelligence officer said.  “There’s no way we can obscure our FTL signature.  Unless they were literally asleep at the switch, Private, they’d know we were on our way.”

Martin sucked in his breath.  Depending on just how good their sensor gear was, the Tokomak would have at least an hour’s warning before the fleet arrived.  Time enough, he was sure, to send a courier for help and prepare defences ... and then to prepare to blow up their own dumps, if necessary.  It was what
he
would have done.

And we’re going down there
, he thought, morbidly.  They’d simulated raids on terrorist bases and half of them had ended with the base blown up and everyone dead. 
It won’t be fun at all
.

He rose as the Major dismissed his men, with strict orders to review the data and prepare themselves for simulations.  There was just time, he fancied, to find Yolanda and talk to her, before he had to get some sleep.  Tomorrow was going to be a very busy day.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Protest marches in almost every western capital took place today, protesting against the Solar Union’s decision to declare war on the Galactics.  Protest leaders denounced the Solar Union as galactic-sized warmongers and demanded that Earth be specifically excluded from any declaration of war.  There were incidents in several cities where protestors attempted to storm Solar Union Embassies, only to be stunned or killed by armed guards.  In a statement issued shortly after the first protest, President Ross of the Solar Union reminded Earth that the Solar Union would defend its territory, even against rioting crowds
.

-Solar News Network, Year 53

“Ten minutes to emergence,” Yolanda said.

“Hold us steady,” Captain Singh ordered, calmly.  There was no hint of tension in his voice.  “Take us out at the designated emergence point.”

“Yes, sir,” Yolanda said.  She didn't have much to do – the planned emergence point was programmed into the computers – but she knew she might have to override them, if something went wrong.  Or if the Commodore decided to alter their destination, for some reason known only to himself.  “We’re holding steady.”

The timer slowly ticked down to zero.  The Tokomak would know they were coming, her thoughts yammered at her, even if they wouldn't know the exact emergence point.  If they had, the humans would have blundered right into an ambush, assuming the Tokomak officers had enough initiative to set up a trap without waiting for orders from Varnar first.  But it didn't change the fact that they would
know
the fleet was inbound.  They had had plenty of time to call their crews to battlestations, charge their weapons and devise a handful of contingency plans.

“Emergence in thirty seconds,” she said.  The final seconds ticked down.  “Five seconds ...
emergence
.”

Freedom
shivered, slightly, as she slid back into normal space.  Yolanda plunged her mind into the sensors and saw the stars reappear, while the dirty brown world of Hades lay ahead of them, surrounded by enemy starships.  Most of them were freighters, she noted, although twelve of them were definitely heavy cruisers.  The warships were assembling themselves into formation, but slowly,
far
too slowly.  It was strange to see how pitifully slow the Tokomak were at adapting to the unexpected.  How the hell had they managed to conquer an unimaginably-large empire in the first place?

“Enemy ships are signalling us, telling us to break off,” Commander Gregory said.  A dull rustle of amusement echoed round the bridge.  “This is Tokomak territory.”

“Demand their surrender,” Commodore Travis ordered, through the datanet.  “And then prepare to attack.”

The Tokomak didn't bother to respond, Yolanda noted, as the two fleets converged with terrifying speed.  She wasn't surprised; all the reports, garnered from the captured starship, had suggested that the Tokomak were convinced beyond all reason that
no one
could match them in space combat.  There was something elegant and fluid about their formation, she had to admit, that spoke of long practice, but would it translate into being able to fight properly?

“One enemy ship is heading away from the planet,” the sensor officer cautioned.  “Her flight path puts her on a direct course for Varnar.”

“Five days round trip,” the Captain mused.  “We have that long to strip the planet of everything useful and then withdraw.”

Unless they go directly for Earth instead
, Yolanda thought. 
Would they even know we were humans if we managed to prevent them seeing us
?

She dismissed the thought as the Tokomak craft lunged forward, still holding their formation as they advanced towards the human ships.  Flickers of data popped up in her mind as sensors probed the enemy fleet, noting prospective strengths and weaknesses.  She couldn't help mentally comparing them to the lone ship they’d ambushed, noting how their shields were stronger, their weapons were fully charged and their sensors were at full power.  Not that they really
needed
them, she considered.  The human squadron wasn't trying to hide its presence.

“Enemy fleet is locking weapons on our hull,” Commander Gregory reported.  “They’re preparing to fire.”

“Evasive action,” the Captain ordered.  “Open fire on the Commodore’s command.”

Yolanda smiled to herself as she pulled
Freedom
into a series of random evasive patterns, each one confusing to a race that had only known simulations and drills for over a thousand years.  To the Tokomak, she reflected, the human formation must look ungainly, as if they weren’t concerned with appearances at all.  But what did appearances matter in a test of strength?  The Tokomak ships looked beautiful, like something out of an pre-space science-fiction movie series, but could they fight?  She had a feeling they were about to find out.

Alerts flared up in her mind as the Tokomak opened fire.  Bolts of light flashed through space, most missing by miles.  A handful of shots struck their targets, allowing the analysis sections to study them.  Their conclusions, flashed through the datanet seconds later, indicated that the Tokomak weapon were very variable.

“Return fire,” Commander Gregory ordered.

The human ships opened fire, hammering the Tokomak shields.  Yolanda kept her ship spinning though evasive patterns, dodging most of the fire aimed at her hull, while the gunnery crews bombarded the Tokomak ships relentlessly.  Despite the sheer level of firepower they possessed, the Tokomak were simply not very good shots – or, she realised slowly, had no practice fighting an unpredictable battle.  Their evasive patterns were slow and predicable, as if they’d been crafted out before weapons had become so deadly.

“Launch torpedoes,” Commander Gregory said, as the two fleets converged.  The Tokomak seemed dazed, pressing in together as if they were seeking strength in numbers.  “Fire at will.”

Freedom
jerked as she unleashed a spread of torpedoes, aimed right towards the Tokomak formation.  Four of the torpedoes, their courses far too predictable, were picked off by the enemy ships, the remainder reached attack range and detonated, sending streams of deadly light towards their targets.  The old concept of bomb-pumped lasers, so successful in battle against the Horde, had been intensely modified.  Now, instead of nukes, the torpedoes projected the force of an antimatter warhead, compressed down into a needle of irresistible power.  Two Tokomak ships were blown apart instantly, their hulls vaporising into nothing before they could start launching lifepods; three more were knocked right out of formation, one of them actually colliding with an intact starship, blowing both into balls of plasma.

I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it
, Yolanda thought. 
No one would be stupid enough to accidentally ram another starship ...

“Repeat the surrender demand,” the Commodore ordered.  “Tell them we will take prisoners and treat them honourably.”

The Tokomak either didn't get the message or didn't believe it, because they kept firing.  One ship broke free of the formation and dropped into FTL before anyone could intervene, while the remaining ships pushed forward, as if they thought they could catch the human ships and destroy them.  But it was pointless, Yolanda saw; the Tokomak simply weren't prepared for a modern war.  Their ships were so slow and cumbersome it was painful to watch, while the human ships could turn on a dime.  They didn't have a hope of breaking free or destroying their enemies before it was too late.

“Launch a second spread of torpedoes,” the Commodore said.  “Take them out.”

Yolanda altered course, just long enough to allow Commander Gregory to launch a broadside.  They’d been warned to conserve torpedoes as much as possible, simply because the production process was slow, utterly unable to keep up with demand.  It wouldn't do to vaporise the entire enemy squadron if they didn't have the weapons necessary to defend Earth, let alone take the war to the Tokomak. 

But there was no time to waste, not any longer.

“One enemy craft has dropped her shields to offer surrender,” Commander Gregory reported, sharply.  “The remainder have been destroyed.”

“Order a team of Marines to board the alien craft,” Captain Singh said.  “Inform them to handle the Tokomak gently, unless they offer resistance.”

Yolanda felt an odd moment of respect for the Tokomak commander.  Dropping shields was the universal signal of surrender, yet – in the midst of a battle – it was quite possible that the ship would be blown apart before anyone realised she had been trying to surrender.  And God alone knew what his crew, who moments ago had been absolutely in command of the situation, would make of the order to surrender.  Would they accept it without further demur or would they try to harm the Marines?  Would
Martin
be at risk, if he was one of the Marines boarding the ship?

“Take us towards the planet,” the Captain ordered.  “Prepare to clear the Orbital Weapons Platforms.”

“Aye, sir,” Yolanda said.

Hades grew rapidly larger in her mind as
Freedom
raced towards the planet.  It was a rocky airless world, useless for anything.  Even a large-scale terraforming project would have been unable to make anything of Hades, according to the briefing notes.  The world was just so completely dead it didn't have an atmosphere.  But the Tokomak had found a use for it, she knew, as a naval supply dump.  The planet was in the right place to allow them to threaten either Earth or the Coalition.

The automated weapons platforms opened fire as the human ships closed in.  They were relatively new, for Tokomak equipment, and managed to score a number of hits before they were blown out of space.  Yolanda spitefully decided that proved the Tokomak had let their electronic servants do the work, although there was no way to know for sure.  Perhaps the gunnery crews had more time to practice their art, so far from the heart of their empire.  It was unlikely in the extreme that anyone would bother to conduct an inspection tour of Hades.

Or it was unlikely
, she corrected herself. 
These days, there might be a proper inspection any day, if they want to use this place for something more than a dump.

“Launching missiles towards the planet now,” Commander Gregory reported.  The planetary PDCs were still out of range, but they were firing anyway, hoping to score a lucky hit.  “Impact in two minutes.”

“Then launch the Marines,” Commodore Travis ordered.  “Tell them ... tell them
Good Luck
.”

Yolanda swallowed.  Martin had been assigned to the first platoons to hit the planet ... unless he’d been reassigned to the team boarding the alien starship.  Either way, he was in danger ... they were all in danger.  And he might be about to die ...

Cursing, she called on her implants to dampen her emotions.  She couldn't allow herself to be distracted, not now.  There was too much to do.

***

Martin had a feeling that, if it wasn't for his implants, being in the launch tube – the
Marine Missile Launcher
, as some of the crew called it – would have been thoroughly unpleasant.  It was nothing more than being in his suit, trapped in the middle of darkness, waiting for something – anything – to happen.  He thought he understood, now, why so few missiles had AI control systems, even though it would have made them far more efficient.  The AIs would be trapped in darkness until they were fired, running the risk of driving them mad.

But his implants provided enough simulation to keep him distracted ...

An alert flashed up in front of him, followed by a sudden thrusting sensation as he and the rest of the platoon was forced out into space.  Hades rose up in front of them with startling suddenness, growing from a dark orb hanging against the darkness of space to something that dominated the entire horizon.  More alerts flickered through his implants as his suit orientated itself, then plunged towards the planet.  From his point of view, it looked as though the planet was steadily growing larger and larger until it felt as though he was about to smash head-first into an entire world.

Half the trainees get this far and no further
, Sergeant Lestrade had said, years ago. 
They simply cannot master the drop.