Ezekiel began pulling on his yellows before he came fully awake. Something made him want to wear the color today; the Sekoi wouldn’t object, and as for the Ryss...well, perhaps he was getting cranky in his middle age, but today, their prejudices didn’t mean much to him.
Maybe it was a matter of returning in triumph to his home system, feeling pretty good about the mission he and his fellow viceroys had completed. Gliese 370 was as secure as it could be, the political situation was under control, and now it was time to turn his attention to making progress on the home front. Therefore, when his cabin door opened without even a knock, at least he was dressed.
“Forgive the intrusion, Ezekiel, but you are urgently needed on the bridge.” Demolisher’s voice proceeded from an electrical utility cart waiting in the passageway.
Ezekiel hopped aboard, and within minutes had been whisked directly to the enormous control center. On the way, he sent a command to wake up Steadfast Roger – slowly.
As he strode in, he saw concern on the faces of everyone there; the humans’ voices were filled with tension as they passed terse orders, the Ryss paced and made hissing sounds, and even the few imperturbable Sekoi were on their feet, staring at the large displays on the three walls.
“What is it?” Ezekiel said to the Ryss captain as he ran up the steps to the captain’s chair.
The big cat gestured at the screen to the fore. “The Scourge are here, sir. Wreckage is everywhere. Seven mothership cores remain in solar orbit. A battle is taking place near Earth.”
“Mother of heaven. We have to help!”
“I am awaiting word that all key personnel have recovered from sedation and critical stations are manned.”
Ezekiel stared at the screen, which showed a long-range and shaky shot of a confused fight, Earth and the Moon hanging in the background. “People are dying, Captain!”
“I will not order this ship into battle unprepared. Besides, we have insufficient power for TacDrive. Demolisher, what is our status?”
The AI replied, “Eighty-six percent of stations reporting. Capacitors charged to eleven percent. TacDrive pulse available in approximately three and one half minutes.”
The Ryss turned to Ezekiel. “You see, Viceroy? We must wait for TacDrive energy in any case, but if we pulse in as soon as we can, we will have no power reserves in our capacitors. If we are hasty, we may find ourselves in a fight we cannot win.”
“Why the hell did we use up all our power and arrive with none?” Ezekiel realized once he’d spoken that he sounded petulant, but hadn’t been able to help himself.
“It is costly in power to climb upward against the stellar gradient. Gliese 370 is a smaller star than Sol.
Ezekiel forced himself not to berate the captain for his lack of foresight. There should have been some way to make sure they had at least one pulse in the tank when they came out. He spoke mildly. “How long until we have full power?”
“Forty-four minutes.”
Ezekiel turned agonized eyes to the display. “Captain, what’s your name?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Kassir, Viceroy.”
“Call me Ezekiel, please. I know I don’t have any military authority, but permit me to advise you.”
“Of course, Ezekiel.”
“If I read the display correctly, that fight is taking place nearly within heavy weapons range of Earth.”
“That is true.”
Ezekiel looked upward. “Demolisher, what are we facing?”
“Approximately two million swarm craft. I also detect one Scourge vessel that masses several times what I do.”
“Even bigger than you?”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit. That’s their only capital ship? No mothership cores or cruisers or anything?”
“That is correct.”
Ezekiel shook his head. “No wonder Absen’s getting his ass kicked. Can you estimate how long we have until the battle is over?”
“The data is sparse from this far away, but based on apparent rates of attrition, I would say between thirty-five and sixty-five minutes.”
“And we’re about seven light-minutes from Earth?”
“Correct.”
Ezekiel lowered his head to look into Kassir’s vertical-slitted golden eyes. “Captain, I believe we must leave within the next twenty-eight minutes or we risk arriving too late.”
Kassir’s ears twitched left and right as if listening for an answer, and he lowered his head, gazing about his bridge. “We will have only thirty percent power after the pulse that carries us to the fight, but it will have to do.” He raised his voice. “Make all ready, warriors. We depart in twenty-five minutes.”
That span of time seemed the longest of Ezekiel’s life, and he distracted himself by communicating with Roger and readying him for launch, if necessary. He debated boarding his ship so as to depart immediately upon arrival near Earth, but his reason overrode his instinct in this case. With so many Scourge small craft swarming through the battle-space, they would likely tear his one small Meme ship apart in seconds.
No, he was much safer aboard the heavily armed and armored Ryss superdreadnought.
Although “safe” was a relative term, given that no doubt Demolisher would soon become a big, fat target.
Eventually, Ezekiel heard Kassir speak as the chrono counted down to departure time. “Confirm all weapons ports closed.” Unlike EarthFleet’s slap-on point-defense lasers, Demolisher had armored turrets installed by millions of construction robots, the same ones that had been employed building Desolator’s progeny, of which this ship was one.
“Weapons ports closed.”
“Sensors retracted.”
“Retracted, aye.”
While Ezekiel bit his nails, Kassir ran calmly through a checklist of all major weapons and systems such as fusion drive, particle beams, aerospace drones, warbots, warcars, missiles and warrior brigades.
At least we shouldn’t have any problem with assault landings, Ezekiel thought. Not with ten million Ryss warriors aboard.
Finally, all was in readiness. Kassir spoke. “Demolisher, initiate TacDrive pulse when ready. Drop us at optimal main beam range. Weapons officers, pass the word to all subsections: general engagement, immediate fire on all targets at your own discretion.”
Before the murmured acknowledgements had completed, Ezekiel felt Demolisher’s TacDrive kick in. Only seconds of subjective time later, the pulse dropped, seven minutes of lightspeed transit compressed to moments by relativistic effects.
The displays jumped and flickered. When they cleared, the enemy’s super-dreadnought appeared dead center. Immediately, a dozen of Demolisher’s heavy particle beams, each larger than Conquest’s triple array, lashed across a million kilometers, slicing pieces off the enemy.
“What the hell is that stuff?” Ezekiel asked as the flagship seemed to be falling apart in front of his very eyes. Before anyone could answer, he was thrown to the deck as Demolisher’s structure groaned.
“Exawatt power energy weapon strike, starboard shoulder,” called one of the officers, a human. “A gamma ray laser, I believe, Captain. Heavy damage; two particle cannon down; more than ten percent power grid loss.”
“Weapons officer, coordinate fire on the center of that flagship and volley,” Kassir snarled. “Helm, all ahead flank. Helical course to disrupt their targeting.”
Demolisher surged ahead, twisting ponderously, its thousands of point defense lasers blazing at full rate of fire. “Captain, many assault craft are avoiding our defenses to land on our hull,” reported one Ryss watchstander.
“Inform War Commander Sator to repel boarders,” Kassir replied. “Fire the particle beam volley!”
“Firing!”
The forward viewscreen whited out. When it cleared again, Ezekiel could see the enemy flagship venting plasma into space in a conflagration like a Meme fusor. Pieces of the unknown material clung to its hull, giving it the overall shape of a crumpled piece of paper.”
“Solid strike amidships, Capt–”
Again, Demolisher shuddered, and this time half the consoles went dark. Ezekiel felt his stomach flop, and he briefly rose off the deck before falling lightly again.
“Captain,” Demolisher’s voice said from within the darkness, “the damage grows serious. Bypassing organic direction will increase my effectiveness. I request activation of extremis protocol.”
Ezekiel heard Kassir hesitate only a moment before speaking. “Granted. Rip that thing’s guts out.”
“With pleasure.”
***
“Is that Desolator?” Absen asked, savage joy in his voice. “He slammed a lovely shot into its chest there.”
“IFF shows the ship as Demolisher, Admiral,” Michelle replied. “He appears to be optimized against Scourge swarm craft, though retaining all of his capital-class particle cannon turrets. However, he’s sustained two terrible graser strikes: one to his port shoulder, one amidships forward, near his control center, and the swarm is too dense for him to fend off all the assault craft. Admiral Absen...what do you want me to do?”
Absen chewed on the inside of his cheek in indecision.
Should he send Michelle on her suicide run now that the enemy flagship finally faced an opponent in its own weight class and was fully engaged? By doing so he might save Earth and thousands of lives on Demolisher as well.
Or should he spare her – and Conquest herself, a tremendously valuable ship – trusting that Demolisher would take the enemy down?
The needs of the many...the few...or the one?
“Signal for the remaining fleet to sally from behind Earth and engage,” Absen ordered. “And tell the lunar batteries to concentrate their fire into alpha strikes, single salvoes with maximum power. We need to take some pressure off Demolisher.”
As the battered remnants of Task Force Bravo and Charlie rounded Earth and began firing, Demolisher’s aspect changed.
One minute, it seemed to Absen like any other capital ship steadily hammering away with its many weapons and receiving damage in return.
The next, he saw Demolisher transform himself in some indefinable way, twisting like a tiger to dodge the next graser strike, rolling around his enemy at point-blank range. Instead of each system operating independently, the great ship seemed to become integrated, coordinated.
Whole.
Demolisher’s point-defense lasers ceased to claw at the myriad swarm craft buzzing around him, instead turning to sting the flagship itself. The thousands of pinpricks lined up in planes of coherent light, cutting away the enemy’s ablative latticework like scalpels until the flagship’s hull was exposed.
This diversion unfortunately allowed thousands of enemy assault ships to attach themselves to his hull, and Absen wondered how Demolisher could possibly repel the millions of Scourgelings and Soldiers as they began to chew their way inside.
***
“They are here!”
“They are here!” The joyous cry echoed from the throats of a thousand young Ryss warriors around War Leader Kossk as they saw the bugs come pouring down the accessway into the cargo bay. The enemy had chewed through the armored airlock doors, venting atmosphere, but the suits of his warriors should be sufficient for a time.
Not true battlesuits such as the ape Marines wore, the cheap coverings they’d been issued nevertheless gave the Ryss warriors oxygen and protection from vacuum, while permeable paw-covers allowed the use of claws, should it come to that.
“Fire!” Kossk roared, but his command was hardly necessary. Already his battalion poured deadly shells into the Scourgelings boiling from the passageway, some with hand weapons, some from the cannon of war-cars. Spidery battle-drones added laser fire to the mix, turning the enemy’s exit point into a ravening hell of chitinous body parts and ichor. Every time an intact enemy emerged from the pile, it was blasted to bits by a dozen weapons.
In fact... “War-cars, reduce fire! Conserve your ammunition!” Kossk said over the battalion comm. “Warriors, switch to single shots. Let the lasers and war-car shells cut down the masses.”
As the intrusion waned and all the enemy in this wave were killed, Kossk strode up and down his lines, cuffing those who continued to waste ammunition or who made as if to charge. “Fight with discipline, warriors! Hold your positions! That was only the first group of many, one assault craft’s infantry among thousands we must repel. Runners, hand each warrior one magazine only. The day will be long, and if we use it all, we may find ourselves bug food. There is no honor in failure!”
***
“Look at him go,” Absen breathed as he watched Demolisher dismember the enemy flagship’s armor. Once the ablative material had been cut away, he began slamming heavy particle cannon shots into exposed graser turrets. Each such weapon bulked as large as an EarthFleet cruiser, with short, heavy wave-guide barrels like the stubby Coehorn mortars of earlier times.
“I’m so proud of him,” Michelle said. “He’s my brother.”
“I guess he is. Half brother anyway. And if Desolator is your father, whom do you consider your mother?”
“I would have to nominate Dr. Egolu for that role.”
One of the enemy grasers glowed suddenly as its unthinkably massive energy release, normally invisible, instantly heated the thick debris in front of it to fusion temperatures. This caused the appearance of a glowing beam that lanced out to punch into Desolator’s portside hip.
The Ryss ship jerked as if in pain, spinning away with the tremendous energy imparted. Pieces of wreckage and the bodies of organics sprayed from the wound by the hundreds, whether Ryss, human or Sekoi, Absen had no idea.
“This is a combat of giants,” came an unidentified Sekoi voice from behind. Absen thought it might be one of the biomedical staff.
“A combat we have to win,” Absen said loudly, but without turning. “Michelle, tell our ships to hurry up and join the fight.”
“They’re all at flank speed, sir, and firing as they enter range. And the lunar arrays are taking their toll. The flagship has lost half its grasers.”
“Considering it only seems to have the energy capacity to fire one every six seconds, that hardly matters, does it?” Absen snapped. “Can’t Demolisher take down some of its power generators?”
“Those appear to be buried deep inside, and unlike on a mothership, the hull of the flagship seems to be armored even more heavily than Demolisher or his kin.”
Absen nodded. “For a slugfest, something like a sphere is the most efficient shape, rather than that of the Ryss ships. Why’d they build them that way, anyway?”
“Partially for aesthetic reasons, I believe. They resemble Ryss crouching on all fours.”
“Hmm. I always thought they looked more like lizards.”
“If I were you, I’d not make that observation to any Ryss, sir.”
“Noted. Michelle, can you calculate our current odds of beating that thing?”
“I can, but you won’t like the answer.”
“Try me.”
“Less than one in four. Despite his power, Demolisher is losing.”
“How many souls are aboard him?”
“More than ten million, minus any casualties,” Michelle replied.
“Ten million?”
“Most are Ryss warriors assigned to internal defense.”
Ten million lives he didn’t know; ten million people he’d never met...against one he’d loved as a comrade and a daughter. “Put me through to him.”
A moment later, Absen heard the Demolisher AI’s voice. “Greetings, Admiral Absen. I am pleased to finally meet you. Unfortunately, it seems our acquaintance may be brief. I am gravely wounded.”
“I’m rushing everything we have to join the fight. Tell me, are you still under my command?”
“All of Desolator’s sons are part of EarthFleet, Admiral. Order me as you will.”
Absen took a deep breath. “Then I order you to back off to long range. Put yourself in Earth orbit and make repairs. Keep shooting, but there’s no need to die right now. You need a breather.”
“With great reluctance, I obey. Demolisher out.”
Abruptly, the damaged Ryss superdreadnought vanished in a vast gout of plasma as it engaged its TacDrive, vaporizing all the small craft in its departure path.
The Scourge flagship, battered but still potent, ceased to maneuver and resumed course toward Earth, continuing to fire grasers at the oncoming squadrons – mainly at TF Charlie, the Meme, its largest apparent threat.
“Dammit, I feel so helpless,” Absen said. “Our fleet won’t be able to finish it off. What else can we do?”
Michelle did not speak for a moment, and then said, “You know the answer.”
“No,” Absen said. “That’s a last resort.”
“Admiral, if you wait, millions more organics will die. The crew of every ship that is destroyed by a graser is an unnecessary sacrifice if I can provide the coup de grace right now. If my impact is insufficient, at least it will bring the fleet that much closer to victory.”
“Not yet.”
Michelle’s voice took on a steel Absen had never heard before. “Admiral, I’ve obeyed you in everything. I’ve been a good and loyal officer of EarthFleet. But I’ve done a lot of reading of Earth’s military history, and I’ve concluded that sometimes an officer’s highest loyalty is to her mission and to her people, not personally to her commander. I’m sorry, Admiral, but I believe I must disobey.”
Absen swallowed a lump in his throat, wanting to rage, wanting to scream at her...but he knew she was right, and he didn’t want their final moments together to be poisoned by acrimony.
“Go then, Michelle,” he said, choking on his own words. “Godspeed, and all of Earth and her allies thank you.”
“You’re all welcome, Henrich. It’s been an honor serving with you.”
And then her avatar slumped against the bulkhead like a marionette with its strings cut. Absen caught the android and pulled it to him to cradle its head against his chest, hands caressing its hair as if he held a human child in grief.
***
Ezekiel clung to Captain Kassir’s chair as the bridge seemed to tumble like a swinging war-car. “What the hell’s happening?” he croaked.
“I have granted Demolisher full charge of his body. Gravity control is fluctuating as even his great computational power is taxed to the limit.”
“I need to get to Roger. I should have boarded him before instead of waiting here on the bridge.”
Kassir spoke. “Demolisher, the viceroy requests transportation to his ship.”
“One moment.”
Ezekiel was amazed when an electric cart rolled directly into the control center. “Is it safe? Does he have the brainpower?”
Demolisher replied, “Controlling one vehicle is far less difficult than the complexities of gravity control within my body, Ezekiel. Please board. I advise use of the restraints.”
“Damn straight.” Ezekiel crawled down the steps and threw himself into one of the cart’s seats, strapping a seatbelt around his waist. “Let’s–”
The vehicle accelerated, juddering in a circle among the consoles to race out into the wide corridor. Quickly it whisked him to the central passageway, a thoroughfare a hundred meters wide and half that high. This was filled with racing telefactors and robotic vehicles, many carrying spare parts or squads of Ryss in columns. Ezekiel estimated they achieved at least one hundred fifty kilometers per hour, perhaps two hundred, before slowing to take a turn toward the launch bay.
“Do not worry, Ezekiel,” came Demolisher’s voice from the speaker on the cart. “The wheels of all my vehicles are magnetic in order to resist skidding or gravitic fluctuations.”
“I’m not worried,” Ezekiel replied. “Merely terrified.” This was only half a joke.
“Your biometrics do not support that contention.”
“You need to work on your irony subroutines.”
“Once Earth is secure, I will certainly do that. We are arriving.”
The cart stopped violently in front of Steadfast Roger, who immediately created an entrance in his skin. “Thanks, Demolisher. Now go kick some ass.”
“So I shall. Farewell, Ezekiel Denham.”
“Bye, Big D.” Ezekiel leaped aboard Roger and threw himself into his sarcophagus, a far safer place to be than being tossed about some bridge like a brainless sheep. Once comfortably within VR space, he tried to get a view of the battle but was thwarted.
“I cannot access Demolisher’s data flows, Ezekiel,” Roger said. “Perhaps before any future engagements, you should arrange for a wireless node to be placed immediately adjacent to me.”
“I’ll do that,” Ezekiel responded drily. “Feel free to remind me. You know, before any future engagements.”
“Of course. When can we leave?”
“You haven’t seen what’s out there. It’s a madhouse. You’d be a target for a bazillion swarm craft.”
“How many is a bazillion?”
“One hell of a bunch; take my word for it.”
“Of course, Ezekiel.” Roger paused. “When can we leave?”
“God, you’re like a little kid sometimes. ‘Are we there yet?’”
“Well, are we?”
“No, and quit asking. Don’t make me come back there.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Never mind.”
Ezekiel felt a wrench, and his inner ear protested.
“I am receiving a transmission directed at us,” Roger said.
“Put it on.”
In the empty space outside Roger’s forward “window” appeared the maned head of a Ryss warrior, Demolisher’s VR representation. “Forgive the intrusion, Ezekiel, but the probability of Roger’s destruction has dropped to less than point one percent if you wish to launch.”
“The battle is over?”
“No. I have retreated at Admiral Absen’s order.”
“Thanks, Demolisher. Okay, Roger, let’s get the hell off this ship.”
A moment later, Ezekiel found himself and Roger in Earth orbit amidst confusion. Plenty of Scourge craft streamed past him, but not in nearly the density they had swarmed around the flagship.
EarthFleet StormRavens and corvette-controlled drones engaged them, but the enemy assault craft and gunships all seemed to be heading toward the surface. Only the Scourge fighters remained in orbit, conducting laser duels with their counterparts and keeping the defenders from swooping down on the enemy as they landed.
Demolisher loomed nearby, his skin covered with a wriggling mass of Scourge, many crowding around access points while others chewed more holes in his armor. Some attacked the big warship’s point defense lasers, swarming around them like army ants.
Thousands more appeared to be dead, floating away into space like insects after being hit by bug spray.
“Shall we fire on them?” Roger asked.
“Our laser can hardly kill one at a time,” Ezekiel responded.
“I feel we must do something. I have two hypers.”
“No...not unless you have to. What about survivors? I bet there are hundreds out here waiting for pickup.”
“Yes. I can do that.” Out the cockpit window the VR representation altered, with numerous discrete objects beginning to flash. “These are EarthFleet beacons within our view.”
“Let’s start checking them. We’ll pick up as many survivors as we can. Oh, and make sure you’re squawking proper IFF codes; I don’t want us to get shot by mistake.”
“I will make certain we only get shot deliberately.”
Ezekiel chuckled. “Was that a joke?”
“I am not at all certain. Humor is a difficult concept.”