Eight
“Major To’Jopeviq! Come in! Come in!”
The Rangora had occasional eugenics periods. Every technological civilization required them if they were to survive for any length of time. Technology meant that the weak filled the civilization like fat upon the belly of a Glatun banker. From time to time the weak, the stupid, the useless, must be eliminated to prevent the whole of society from becoming weak, stupid and useless. They were a toxin that must be purged.
It was joked, among the crews of assault vectors, that they were part of that eugenics program. They must be stupid to do their entirely voluntary jobs. Assault vectors were the primary Rangora superdreadnoughts for the breaking of enemy gate defenses and the casualties ran into the tens of thousands.
Major Egilldu To’Jopeviq was the survivor of five assaults upon lesser races. In the last attack, upon the Lho’Phirukuh system, he ended in command of the five hundred survivors of the AV Star Crusher. The Star Crusher had entered the gate with ten thousand personnel.
The major walked into the star general’s office and, instead of sitting, saluted with a slight mechanical whir from his prosthetic right arm and a thump as it hit his chest.
“Major Egilldu To’Jopeviq, reporting as ordered,” the major said. “Long live the Empire!”
“Major, Major,” Star General Chayacuv Lhi’Kasishaj chided, hissing in humor. The Star General was, unlike the Major, from one of the Thirty Families that were the nobility of the Rangora Imperium. A tad out of shape, he nonetheless could have the major buried under a rock with a word. His office was tastefully but expensively decorated, which pretty much defined a son of the Families. “We are not under observation from the Kazis. It is all friends here. Please, sit.” The general got up and poured some skul. “How do you take it?”
“Red, sir,” the major said, sitting down. He even sat at attention.
“I see you’re one of those,” the general said, hissing again. He handed the officer the steaming mug and sat down. “Well, we can work with that. Major, you are here to form a team for what will seem to be a minor matter. And given that there are about to be great actions in the galaxy, you may feel, at times, that you are a forgotten hero. You will see your classmates and nest mates conquering as Rangora ought while you languish in a minor little study group. What I cannot stress enough is the importance. For though there are soon to be great things done by the Imperium, they will be for nothing if your group does not do its job. Do you understand me?”
“No, sir,” the major said. “Because you have given me nothing but generalities.”
“You have a point,” the general said, hissing again. “A blunt one, but a point. Very well. Here are the specifics. You are about to be brought into secrets known only to the High Command.” The general brought up a holo of the local star area and pointed at the Glatun Federation. “In six months the Imperium will be at war with the Glatun Federation. We intend to crush them in less than a year.”
“Great actions as you say, General,” Major To’Jopeviq said, his one remaining real eye gleaming. “Tell me this team is a command.”
“That is what I have to tell you it is not,” the general said. “Nor does it directly affect the war. Your mission is otherwise.”
The general dialed in on a small star system to the side of the Glatun Federation.
“Terra?” Major To’Jopeviq said, aghast. “This has to do with that little nothing system?”
“Terra,” General Lhi’Kasishaj said. “But do not dismiss them. The Terrans are infants on the space lanes, it is true. Barely twenty years from first contact and several of those as satraps of the Horvath. But they just crushed the latest Horvath attack with an ease that you should find frightening. If you are not afraid of the sudden appearance of a polity with such combat ability, you are a hindrance to this task, not a positive.”
“I understand, General,” To’Jopeviq said. “I will not let my assumptions affect this task. Please enlighten me.”
“The Horvath had lost control of the Terran system so, being good allies and having no real need for our remaining Devastators, we loaned them most of the ships we had in storage,” General Lhi’Kasishaj said. “Thirty Devastators, nine Iquke battlecruisers, and seven Odigiu frigates.’ They sent them into the Terran system with the unquestioned assumption that they were about to take the world, and the Horvath intended to exterminate that perfidious race. This is what they got.”
The view in the holo was now of drifting wrecks. It was clearly taken shortly after the battle because the wrecked ships were still sparking and there were occasional explosions.
“One occasionally has to stick one’s neck out to advance,” the star general mused, watching the holo. Small boats were already moving amongst the wrecks and To’Jopeviq recognized the signs of boarding parties. Of course, they were probably just taking surrenders given the devastation. “And while I may seem to be in a high position, that just means that rising in stature is harder because the competition is just as ruthless and experienced as you are. And they are very good at making their own predictions and know when to stick their necks out and when to hold them in. I stuck my neck out arguing against supplying the ships to the Horvath. My point was that the Terrans were a formidable threat and that giving the ships to the Horvath was tantamount to losing them.”
“And you were right,” Major To’Jopeviq said.
“Being right is sometimes the worst possible thing you can be,” the general said, hissing in humor again. “You may learn this someday to your disservice. And in this case, it was a mixed curse. I have been given the task of preparing the attacks that are scheduled to be sent in against Terra.”
“We are going to attack them as well?” To’Jopeviq asked.
“Eventually,” the general replied. “In part that is my doing. The Terrans clearly have defenses far in advance of what they should given their relative youth. My point was that if they can prepare such formidable defenses, we really don’t want them having time to prepare offensive structures. Thus as a small part of the overall attack against the Glatun Federation, there is a codicil to take the Terran system. Star Marshall Gi’Bucosof has the overall command of the Glatun attack. I am in charge of the Terran portion as well as others. And I am putting you in charge of examining them in depth. Determining how formidable their defenses really are and how to defeat them.”
“What did this? Do we know?”
“A combination,” the general said. “They have created a most bastardized fortification on the gate, a nickel-iron asteroid that has been inflated into a battlestation of sorts. And they have a very capable mining laser using solar-pumped power. You will be briefed on what is known and have a team to determine how dangerous the systems actually are. To Devastators they are clearly very dangerous. I want you, also, to develop their Order of Battle better than our current estimates and look at key players in the system. Think not just of direct assault but political assault. On that subject, part of your team will be a member of the Kazi.”
“If you so order, General,” the major said stoically.
The Kazi were the Imperium’s political police as well as its intelligence arm. To’Jopeviq recognized their necessity, especially for controlling conquered populaces who tended to be restive. It did not mean he liked them.
“Don’t look so glum, Major,” the general said, heartily. “Getting a Kazi assigned to you means you’re important! I have them around me like flies! If I had a minor granddaughter left I might marry her off to you! You’re advancing!”
“Yes, sir,” To’Jopeviq said.
“And you don’t care,” the general said, hissing again. “You are the bluff warrior who longs only for the sting of battle. But this is part of preparing the battlefield, Major. Your job is to ensure that when we enter the system, we will be fully prepared to destroy their defenses and take it without losing an entire fleet.”
“Yes, sir,” To’Jopeviq said.
“So, get to work,” the general said, waving his hand at the door. “Your new ‘assistant’ is waiting.”
* * *
The lieutenant in the general’s outer office was that oddest of things, a female officer.
Rangora females were much more petite than their male counterparts, rarely clearing a meter and a half in height and with much smaller and finer scales. This one was smaller than normal, almost a dwarf. She barely came up to To’Jopeviq’s waist.
“Lieutenant Jith Beor, sir,” the female said, saluting. “I am your administrative assistant for this project.”
It took To’Jopeviq longer than normal to make the realization that when the general mentioned his “assistant” the senior officer was pointing out that the assistant was more like his control. He wasn’t used to dealing with Kazi. And with that realization, he also knew that the female wasn’t really a Navy lieutenant. The combination made the salute he returned slow and somewhat distasteful.
“Good to meet you, Lieutenant,” To’Jopeviq said, belying every word with his demeanor. “Do you know where we’re setting up?”
“Just down the hall, sir,” the lieutenant said, gesturing to the door. “We’re rather close to the center of power, eh?”
“Being close to the center of power is somewhat like being close to an unstable laser emitter, Lieutenant,” To’Jopeviq said as they walked down the hallway. “I prefer to be on the other end of the ship. Or, better, on a different one.”
“You do not care for this assignment?” Beor asked.
“I would much rather be on an assault vector,” To’Jopeviq said as he entered the offices they were to use. “And I see we’re alone.”
“If you think so, you really aren’t used to being near the center of power,” Beor said, gesturing to his office. It already had his name on the door. “If you’re going to discuss what I think you want to discuss, we’d be better off in there.”
“Lead on, Lieutenant.”
* * *
“Because only the Kazi have this room monitored?” To’Jopeviq said as he sat behind his desk.
“As far as I know it is not monitored by anyone,” Beor said, sitting down without being asked. “I swept it rather carefully and it is shielded. I am not here as your political officer, To’Jopeviq. I’m here to be the Kazi liaison—there are pieces of intelligence you may not be able to get through normal military channels—and to bring some alternate thinking into the group.”
“And to weed out alternate thinking?” To’Jopeviq asked.
“If you mean to ensure that there are no indiscreet sentiments,” Beor said, “that is a standard part of any Kazi’s job. But you are hardly a threat to the Imperium, To’Jopeviq. Quite the opposite. Your loyalty is unquestioned. As is the loyalty of most of this team. Oh, there are a couple who are on the questionable list, but only because they are . . . thinkers. The sort of people who question everything. Such people are useful. They simply need a bit of watching to make sure they don’t go too far. My main mission, though, is as I stated. To bring alternate intelligence and alternate thoughts to this planning group. And, of course, to handle your paperwork.”
“So you see everything?” To’Jopeviq said.
“Of course,” Beor said, hissing in humor. “And so you don’t have to worry about it so much. I’ll be taking care of payroll, moving your papers, that sort of thing. So you can do the job of figuring out how to take the Terran system without losing another forty ships.”
“Will it be a Rangora force?” To’Jopeviq asked. “Or more stinking, cowardly Horvath?”
“That has yet to be determined,” Beor said. “In part because no one has taken a close look at the Terran system.”
“Where’s the rest of the team?” To’Jopeviq asked.
“Being gathered,” Beor said. “We’re the first. By this afternoon, we’ll be getting to work.”
“So . . .” To’Jopeviq said. “What’s your real rank?”
“That is not your concern,” Beor said. “When we are in public, though, I will treat you with the exact respect you are entitled by your rank and your experience. In fact, my cover is to be the starstruck young lieutenant working for the handsome and virile hero.”
“That could be fun,” To’Jopeviq said.
“Don’t push your luck, Major,” the agent said. “I’m not actually starstruck.”
“That’s what’s going to make it so fun.”
* * *
“This is Dr. Thiolh Avama,” Beor said. “He is a specialist in xeno-history and has recently written a paper on the Terran system and human social interactions.”
“Doctor,” To’Jopeviq said, nodding his head. “Any initial thoughts?”
“The first thing to understand about Terrans,” the academic said musingly, “is that they are societally and politically complex. They have not yet gone through a coalescence period, being broken into numerous tribes that are separated into nation-states with varying degrees of political power and economic influence.
“All of that being said, the Terrans are an essentially peaceful people. They are a race of evolutionary herbivores rather recently shifted to omnivorous consumption. They have a long history of territorial aggression but always seek to control and even eliminate such actions . . .”
“Totally disagree.”
“Analyst Deegh Toer of the War Intelligence Agency,” Beor said, introducing the short, stocky Rangora. “He was part of the first team to do an analysis of the Terran defenses.”
“And if anyone had paid attention to it, the Horvath wouldn’t have entered the system in such low force,” Toer said. “The humans are animals. They live, eat and breathe war to an extent it’s hard to find outside our own blessed Imperium.”
“If you observe their many broadcast channels,” Avama chided, “this is clearly not the case. They constantly attempt to restrict their warfare, even having many thousands of regulations regarding war that it might be fought, when absolutely necessary, in the most peaceful possible way.”
“Peaceful war is a contradiction,” To’Jopeviq said.
“Not at all,” Avama said. “They clearly separate what they consider ‘good’ war and ‘bad’ war among the higher quality polities. The better, more elite humans firmly deride and avoid any conflict with a material or even strategic basis. They even have a term, ‘operations other than war.’ These are such things as nation building and humanitarian support missions. This is what the militaries of most of the great polities are used for much of the time.”
“Explain the Iraq invasion!” Toer said.
“The overthrow of a vicious dictator who was slaughtering his own people,” Avama said, shrugging. “The tribe called Americans also believed he was a material threat.”
“And the American military exists purely to perform these ‘actions other than war’?” Toer said with a scoff. “It outnumbers or outclasses the rest of the world’s militaries combined. And since they got into space it is the lead military in that front.”
“If you had ever met any American diplomatic personnel, you would know that they are charmingly innocent, peaceful and naïve,” Avama said. “They truly believe that war is a thing of the past. The Americans bluff and are more than willing to bully lesser polities, but they have no real stomach for war. There are few or none on Terra who do. Frankly, a reasonable negotiated surrender is the most likely outcome of this conflict.”
“You’re dreaming,” Toer snapped. “Just dreaming.”
“Gentlemen,” To’Jopeviq said, trying not to sigh. “We are getting ahead of ourselves. Mr. Toer, can you explain how the Terrans wiped out a fleet of—admittedly second class—battleships with a mining laser?”
“Calling the SAPL a mining laser is like calling a Devastator a freighter,” Toer said. “You can use it for the purpose but it’s sort of overclassed. The SAPL consists of a Very Large Array of mirrors scattered near their sun. That VLA captures sunlight and concentrates it on the Beaufort’s Distributed Array or BDA. The BDA then concentrates it more and bounces it up and down to more VSA mirrors scattered out of the plane of the ecliptic. They move the light around the system for, ostensibly, mining purposes.”
“The main company that owns the system uses it extensively, and very inexpensively, for mining purposes,” Dr. Avama pointed out.
“They don’t need seventy petawatts of power for mining!” Toer snarled. “That’s not a mining laser, that’s a weapon of doom!”
“Seventy petawatts does seem a bit strong for a mining laser,” To’Jopeviq said.
“They don’t normally use it all at once,” Dr. Avama said. “They use the laser, along with spin processing, to separate metals. And they normally have several projects running at once. They have become a major supplier of materials to the Glatun.”
“Who are using it to produce warships and defense stations,” Toer said.
“If this thing uses mirrors, it should be reasonably easy to take out,” To’Jopeviq said. “Just target the mirrors.”
“Which is where Troy comes in,” Toer said.
“Troy?”
“A mining program,” Dr. Avama said.
“Very clearly a defense program,” Toer replied.
“They are now getting most of their material from Troy,” Dr. Avama pointed out.
“It’s a fricking battlestation!” Toer shouted. “They say it’s a battlestation! The plans are on their hypernet!”
“Doctor, please,” To’Jopeviq said, holding up his hand. “Mr. Toer, what is Troy?”
“Troy is a NI asteroid they inflated into a battlestation,” the analyst said. “And, yes, they are mining it also. But it has kilometer and a half thick walls of nickel iron. The ‘mining’ is burning out missile and laser tubes, ship bays, personnel centers. During the last battle, the Troy, which was barely operational, was used as the final focus engine for the SAPL. Which is its primary,” he continued, glaring at the academic, “purpose. Troy will be supplied from a distance by the SAPL which will have a stable aim point and can send power from as much as four light-seconds away. And the mirrors can move around while supplying the power. So you can throw lasers at them all day and not get them. Best bet is to expend your missiles on trying to take out all the mirrors. Good luck; that bastard Vernon won’t quit making the things.”
“Vernon?” To’Jopeviq said.
“A major financier,” Dr. Avama said. “But not a serious personality. He is new riches from after the first contact. But otherwise unimportant.”
“He created SAPL and Troy,” Toer growled. “How much more important does a person get?”
“SAPL,” Dr. Avama said, “once you think about it, is a rather elegant idea. I’m no great expert but most asteroid mining—”
“Uses large annie power pumped laser systems,” To’Jopeviq said. “Chunks are mined off of the asteroids and fed to smelters and fabbers using gravity tugs.”
“Yes,” Dr. Avama said. “As you say.”
“My father is an asteroid miner,” To’Jopeviq said. “I know quite a bit about it. What is spin processing, though?”
“Take a big laser,” Toer said. “Which, obviously, Terra has. Start an asteroid spinning on one axis. Heat. The metals separate out. It will eventually form a sort of plate. You can then cut the metals off. Mine and smelt in one.”
“That is elegant,” To’Jopeviq said, nodding. “But you need cheap laser power.”
“Which the humans get from their sun,” Dr. Avama said excitedly. “It’s a very unusual approach and has quite a bit of economic consequence if you think about it. It’s one of the reasons I find the culture so fascinating . . .”
“I understand,” To’Jopeviq said. “Kilometer and a half of nickel iron?”
“Kilometer and a half,” Toer said.
“Entrances?”
“The missile launch tubes,” Toer said. “The laser tubes. Eventually the plans include ship launch tubes. And the main door. Which is big and hard to close. If you can get in before they close the door, you might have a chance. Absent that, my analysis is if they get even their phase one plans, a successful assault will require forty assault vectors.”
“Forty?” To’Jopeviq said. The Star Crusher had been part of a fleet that included five assault vectors. It was the largest concentration of AVs in Rangora history. There weren’t currently forty AVs in the Fleet.
“If they complete phase one,” Toer said. “Which is going to take them a while. But their eventual plan is for ninety SAPL emitters, forty-eight missile launch tubes and a magazine with two hundred and fifty thousand missiles.”
“Which they cannot possibly produce,” Dr. Avama said.
“They have Glatun fabbers and a two trillion ton asteroid to mine,” Toer said, not bothering to look around.
“The one fabber they have is old and pretty much on its last legs,” Dr. Avama said.
“They’re building a new one,” Toer said. “And knowing that bastard Vernon, he’s not going to settle for one.”
“Gentlemen,” To’Jopeviq said, trying not to clutch his head. “I see we have some differences of opinion and I find that to be good. We need to look at every side of the puzzle. I’d like you both to write initial estimates of the Terran war capacity and current defenses as well as political will-power. When we have those we can start to try to get some agreement. For now, I look forward to working with you. I’d like those in no more than a week. Thank you for your time.”
* * *
“I don’t think I can do this,” To’Jopeviq said, holding his head in his hands. “This is not my idea of being a major. Why couldn’t the general have picked someone else?”
“Because they probably would already know everything they needed to know,” Beor said. “They would have made their decision, turned in a paper and gone back to what they’d rather be doing. You, on the other hand, are going to keep working on this until you know what is needed. Because you know the people who will be doing the assault and care about them.”
“Good point,” he said, lifting his head. “Seventy petawatts? That’s as much as the total output of an AV. Not the main gun, all the guns. Two hundred and fifty thousand missiles? I’m stupid but not that stupid.”
“Then perhaps we should first look at how to prevent them from completing their tasks,” Beor suggested.