A Learning Experience 2: Hard Lessons (19 page)

The Captain cleared his throat.  Embarrassed, Kevin looked at him.

“We’ll set up an ambush here,” the Captain said, tapping a red dwarf star.  “There shouldn't be any witnesses, I believe.”

“Agreed,” Kevin said.  “But remember, you cannot let the ship escape.”

“I believe it might have been mentioned,” the Captain said, blandly.  “How much do they know about us?”

“Unknown,” Kevin said.  “The SIA has been trying to deduce how much they know, Captain, but it is an impossible task.  I don’t think they saw us as a priority until recently, however, and our counter-intelligence is pretty good.”

“We’re tiny on their scale,” the Captain agreed.  “But if they see us as a threat now ...”

Kevin shrugged.  “Building up intelligence networks takes time, Captain,” he said, as reassuringly as he could.  He’d been surprised by how little interest the
Varnar
took in humanity, even though it had been the Varnar who had first seen humans as potentially useful.  The Tokomak probably thought of Earth as little more than a primitive microstate somewhere in the middle of a vast ocean.  “They would need years to get a reliable source of information on our affairs.”

He shrugged, again.  “That may be why they’re sending so many ships to deal with us,” he added.  “They don't know the scale of threat we pose, so they’re sending a fleet that should be capable of dealing with anything.”

“I hope you’re wrong,” Captain Singh said.

He looked back at the star chart.  “It will take us nine days at best possible speed to reach our destination,” he added.  “I trust that will prove suitable?”

“It will have to suffice,” Kevin said.  “There’s no way we can change the laws of interstellar travel to suit ourselves.”

“No,” the Captain agreed.  “Can your ship match our speed?”

“I doubt it,” Kevin said.  “We’ll probably catch up with you before the Tokomak arrive.”

Captain Singh smiled.  “And if you’re wrong?”

“You get to tell us all about it, afterwards,” Kevin said.  It could be inconvenient – or disastrous – not to have a watching ship in the same star system, but there was no way to avoid it.  They’d just have to hope the
Rory Williams
beat the Tokomak to their destination – or pray.  “Good luck, Captain.”

“We’ll need it,” Captain Singh said.

***

Martin was sweating heavily as he came out of the simulator, cursing whoever had designed the system under his breath.  The biofeedback was always intensified in the simulators, according to the older Marines, leaving him feeling utterly exhausted.  It was all he could do to drag himself forward and into the briefing room, knowing all too well that if Major Lockland decided to do a uniform inspection he was finished.  But then, the rest of 3
rd
Platoon looked equally sweaty and uncomfortable. 

This won’t end until you see action
, he reminded himself.  The remainder of 3
rd
Platoon were polite, but distant.  He wished, more than he cared to admit, for some of the recruits he’d trained beside, people who were just as inexperienced as himself. 
And if we see no action
...

He straightened up as Major Lockland strode into the compartment, looking disgustingly fresh.  The Marines of 1
st
and 2
nd
Platoon followed him, wearing standard BDUs.  Martin was too tired to glower at them, but hoped they had an equally hard training session awaiting them in the future.  He heard the sound of the starship’s drives powering up as the Major took his place at the front of the compartment, then felt a faint shiver running through the hull as they dropped into FTL.  Maybe it was just his imagination, but there was something more ...
purposeful
about the motion, this time.  Perhaps they were going on a mission ...

“At ease, Marines,” Major Lockland said.  “
Freedom
has been reassigned to a special operation.  We will be the tip of the spear.”

Martin felt a sudden flicker of excitement, mingled with an odd kind of fear.  They were going to be tested at last ... and what if he fucked up?  The simulators had been designed to allow him to fuck up – and learn from his mistakes – without any real danger, but a real mission was nothing like the simulators.  Lieutenant Robbins kept telling him, time and time again, that no battle plan ever survived its first encounter with the enemy.  War was a democracy, after all.  The enemy got a vote.

“Our mission is to take a starship intact,” Major Lockland continued.  “We will be launched from the tubes as soon as
Freedom
has softened her up, then we will go in through the hull and assume control as rapidly as possible.  It will not be an easy mission.  We know nothing about the interior design of the alien ship, or what level of computer security it possesses.”

Martin sucked in his breath.  Taking a Horde ship was easy, even without the specialist hacking tools available to the Solar Marines.  All a boarding party had to do was insert a link into the ship’s computer and gain access through the factory presets.  The Horde never seemed to learn that their systems were wide open, so undefended that backdoors were completely unnecessary.  But who knew what any other alien race would do to secure their ships?

It's never so easy to board a Varnar ship
, he reminded himself.  God knew they’d simulated that hundreds of times, but the operation was not always a success. 
They actually know what they’re doing
.

“We will reach our destination in nine days,” Major Lockland said.  “Tomorrow, we start rehearsing in earnest.”

Martin blinked. 
In earnest?

“We know little about the alien design, so we will have to be flexible,” Major Lockland added.  “Get some rest, then report to the simulators at 0700.  Good luck to you all.”

And what
, Martin asked himself as the Marines rose to their feet,
does Yolanda make of it all
?

Chapter Nineteen

The Non-Discriminatory Sports Association today voted to strip sports coaches of pay, benefits and other rights guaranteed to them by prior legislation.  In their statement, the NDSA asserted that sports discriminated between athletic and non-athletic and, as such, deserved not a single cent of taxpayers’ money.  Speaking in response, the Coaches Union reaffirmed its determination to battle for the rights of its members.  However, after successive scandals, it is unlikely the public will be supportive.

-Solar News Network, Year 53

“The system appears to be completely empty,” Yolanda reported.  “There’s nothing within sensor range, not even a stray comet.”

“Good,” Captain Singh said.  “Keep your eyes on the ball.”

“Aye, sir,” Yolanda said. 

She gritted her teeth. 
Freedom
had been in the system for three days, long enough for the crew to start wondering if they were too late.  The Tokomak ship could have been and gone by now. Or it might have been delayed.  If it had taken the Tokomak fifty
years
to notice that Earth was a potential threat, it might easily take them several months to cross a dozen light years from Hades to the unnamed system. 

Martin will be disappointed
, she thought, as she turned her attention back to her console.  They’d only managed to snatch one meeting as the ship raced to her destination, but they’d had a chance to share their impressions of the mission. 
He wants a chance to prove himself
.

She rolled her eyes at the thought.  In her view, Martin had proven himself a long time ago, but the Marines didn't care what she thought.  They would only accept someone who had fought beside them as a
true
comrade-in-arms, no matter his previous career.  Even a former soldier from Earth or a mercenary who’d fought for the Galactics would be hard-pressed to gain acceptance without actually fighting beside the Marines.  Martin’s comrades, when she’d met them, had been polite, but distant.  They hadn’t been impressed by a lowly ensign.

Her console chimed.  “Captain,” she said.  “I’m picking up one large ship, heading towards the system from Gamma-Delta.”

“Put it on the main display,” Captain Singh ordered.  “Can you identify the ship?”

“Negative, sir,” Yolanda said, feeling a flash of
Déjà Vu
.  “But, judging by the signature, I think she’s a heavy cruiser.”

She frowned as she studied the readings.  Detecting starships in FTL was relatively easy; the drive field propagated gravity waves at FTL speeds, alerting anyone with gravimetric sensors that there was a starship inbound.  Indeed, tracking flights between stars wasn't difficult, with the right technology.  She had a feeling that one of the reasons the Tokomak had started to take humanity seriously was because they’d noted the colossal upswing in starships heading to and from Earth, although there was no way to be sure.

“The power curve is growing stronger, sir,” she reported.  “It’s definitely a cruiser-sized starship.”

“Understood,” Captain Singh said.  “I ...”

He broke off as alarms howled.  “She’s returned to normal space,” Yolanda reported.  “I make one heavy cruiser; I say again, I make one heavy cruiser.”

She sucked in a breath as the Tokomak cruiser – not even
trying
to disguise its signature – appeared on the display.  There had been painfully little data available on Tokomak ships, even in the Galactic version of
Jane’s
; now, the human race was seeing one of their cruisers for the first time.  Despite herself, she was almost impressed.  The design was impractical, by human standards, but remarkably elegant.  She looked remarkably like a giant swan.

“I wonder where they fit the weapons on that design,” Commander Gregory mused.

Yolanda accessed her implants, drinking in the live feed from the passive sensors.  The enemy craft wasn't bristling with weapons, as far as she could tell, although that meant nothing.  There could easily be weapons hidden within her hull, ready to emerge and open fire if something threatened her pristine condition.  And yet, there was something about the starship’s movements that bothered her.  It took her a long moment of staring before she understood just what she was seeing.  The Tokomak crew thought they were unobserved – she certainly
hoped
they thought they were unobserved – but they were still posturing, still showing off for the sake of showing off.  Their power curves were inefficient, yet it didn’t matter.  They sure as hell looked good.

“Show offs,” the Captain said.  He evidently agreed.  “Can you determine the location of their shield generator nodes?”

“Aye, Captain,” Yolanda said.  Human – and Varnar – ships were designed to obscure the location of their shield generators, but the Tokomak seemed to be showing off, practically
daring
anyone to take a shot at their hull.  “I have them pinpointed.”

The Captain’s voice grew deeper.  “Helm, take us into attack position,” he ordered.  “And make damn sure they don’t get a sniff of us before it’s too late.”

“Aye, sir,” the helmsman said. 

Yolanda watched, carefully, as
Freedom
inched closer to the Tokomak cruiser.  She knew, from her simulations, that it was immensely difficult to penetrate a cloak when the cloaked ship was taking even minimal precautions to hide its location, but the Tokomak weren't even scanning for turbulence caused by the interaction of the drive field with the cloaking device.  Indeed, apart from a handful of light sensor sweeps, they weren't doing
anything
.  It was possible they were using passive sensors, which emitted nothing for her sensors to pick up, but it was still odd.  She couldn’t help wondering if they knew where
Freedom
was and were just trying to lull her into a false sense of security.  Nothing else seemed to make sense.

“They’re just sitting there,” Commander Gregory said.  “Two minutes to optimal firing range.”

“Lock weapons on targets,” Captain Singh ordered.  If he felt any tension, Yolanda couldn't hear it in his voice.  “Prepare to fire.”

“Particle beams locked, ready to fire,” Commander Gregory said.  “Phasers locked, ready to fire.”

Yolanda felt, suddenly, as if the entire universe was hanging on a knife-edge ...

“Fire,” Captain Singh ordered.

The Tokomak cruiser writhed under the fire as particle beams slammed into – and then though – its shields.  Utterly unprepared for attack, it hadn’t even raised its shields beyond the point needed to deflect radiation and cosmic dust.  Yolanda watched, astonished, horrified and not a little proud, as its shields flickered out of existence before it even realised it was under attack.

“Switch targeting to FTL drives and prepare to fire,” Captain Singh ordered, as the Tokomak cruiser rolled over.  Its sensors, too late, started to probe space for the hostile ship.  “Disable their drive.”

Freedom
fired, again.  “Drive disabled,” Yolanda reported.  “They’re attempting to lock weapons on us.”

“Launch decoy drones, then disable their sensors,” Captain Singh ordered.  “And launch the Marines.”

Good luck, Martin
, Yolanda thought.

New alarms sounded.  “Enemy ship has opened fire,” Commander Gregory snapped.  “Their aim is erratic.”

“I don’t think they have a decent lock on us,” Yolanda supplied, although she wasn't sure she believed her own words.  The enemy crew couldn't be so incompetent as to be unable to track the weapons fire back to its source, could they?  It wasn't as if
Freedom
had launched stealth antimatter-tipped missiles that could have come from anywhere.  “They’re firing almost at random.”

“Their command and control network must be down,” Captain Singh said.  He sounded disbelieving.  There were so many redundancies built into
Freedom’s
internal datanet that the only way to destroy it was to reduce the ship to atoms.  “Target their weapons systems; fire to disable.”

“Aye, sir,” Commander Gregory said.  “Firing now.”

Yolanda watched in bemusement as the hail of fire from the Tokomak ship came to an end.  They’d fired in all directions, as if they’d thought they were surrounded ... or as if they’d lost everything and intended to at least try to score a hit or two before they were destroyed.  Had their bridge been taken out in the first salvo?  It didn't seem likely; human designs, at least, placed the bridge well away from the shield generators.  But the Tokomak seemed to be doing everything wrong.

“Weapons disabled, sir,” Commander Gregory reported. 

“Very good,” the Captain said.  “Transmit a demand for surrender.”

Yolanda tapped her console, sending the pre-recorded message.  “Message sent, sir,” she said.  The seconds ticked away as the Marines approached the stricken ship’s hull.  “No response.”

“They might have lost communications,” Commander Gregory speculated.

“They might,” Captain Singh agreed.  “Ensign?”

“There’s no sign they received our message,” Yolanda said.  “But their ship hasn't taken
that
much damage.”

She glanced down at her console.  “Enemy ship is showing power fluctuations,” she added, slowly.  “I don’t think they can maintain their internal power or atmosphere for much longer.  They may have already diverted everything they can to life support.”

“Good,” Captain Singh said.  “Keep sensors fixed on their hull.  If there is the slightest hint they can drop back into FTL, or do anything else even remotely hostile, I want to know about it.”

“Aye, sir,” Yolanda said.

***

“Go, go, go!”

Martin braced himself as the suit was ejected out into space, aimed directly at the giant Tokomak cruiser.  The live feed from
Freedom’s
sensors identified a hundred weaknesses in the design, but she looked impressive to a single Marine.  Indeed, it was hard to truly grasp her size and power, even though he’d spent the last six months on
Freedom
.  And
Freedom
was half the size of the Tokomak ship.

“Go straight through the hull,” Major Lockland ordered.  “
Do not
waste time trying to find an airlock.  Just punch through and into the ship.”

Martin’s suit spun as he closed in on the giant ship, allowing him to land neatly on the hull.  Four of the Marines were already placing charges on the metal, opening a pathway into the giant ship.  A sudden outflow of atmosphere told him they’d succeeded; he braced himself, then plunged into the ship, followed by the remainder of the Marines.  His suit automatically launched nanotech drones, scouting out ahead of the Marines as they advanced into the ship; behind him, the gash in the hull was sealed, saving what remained of the ship’s atmosphere.

“We have best guesses for the location of the bridge, engineering and life support sections,” Lieutenant Robbins said.  “Our orders are to advance on the engineering sections.”

“Understood,” Martin said.  Ahead of him, there was an airlock, half-open.  He frowned, then realised the safety system must have jammed when they’d cut their way into the ship.  “Did they not bother with any maintenance?”

He smashed the airlock open with his armoured fists, then advanced forward ... and then stopped.  Dozens of thin aliens, their skins torn and broken, drifted in front of him.  They’d suffocated when they’d run out of oxygen, he realised in horror.  They should have been safe – the airlocks had tried to activate automatically – but they’d jammed.  The starship’s commander had skimped on maintenance and this was the result.  He swallowed hard, forcing himself not to throw up.  He’d seen worse in the simulators, but this was real.

“Continue forwards,” Robbins ordered.

Martin felt chills running down his spine as they moved past the next set of airlocks and into a pressurised area.  There was no sign of any aliens, leaving him to wonder if they’d fled – or if they were planning an ambush.  He glanced into a pair of side rooms, but saw nothing apart from pieces of unfamiliar equipment.  There was no point in poking and prodding at them himself, he knew.  It was far better to leave that for the tech experts.