Ekatya’s stomach dropped. A ground pounder had survived? And gone undetected until now? She could only imagine how much damage it had already done.
The Lancer ended her call and motioned to Gehrain, who pulled out a chair to make room for Ekatya’s mobile version. “Gehrain, stay. I want you in on this too. Colonel Debrett, this is Captain Serrado and Commander Baldassar of the Gaian ship Caphenon. I’m hoping their expertise will help us. Captain, Commander, this is Colonel Debrett, the commander of Whitesun Base. Colonel, are you ready?”
“Yes, Lancer.” The colonel’s image was replaced by a scene straight out of Ekatya’s worst memories. She scanned the blackened village for bodies, then saw them lying scattered in the fields. A sour taste rose in her mouth when she saw how many of them were children.
“Those bastards,” Baldassar said in a low voice.
He probably hadn’t meant for the Lancer to hear, and the translator didn’t pick it up, but she looked over and said, “I share your sentiment. Even our worst wars were fought by the warrior caste against the warrior caste. To murder civilians and children is—” She broke off, and Colonel Micah spoke next to her.
“Unthinkable,” he said gruffly. “These Voloth are barbarians.”
“They would think exactly the same about you, simply because of your lack of technology,” Ekatya said. For an uncomfortable moment it occurred to her that her own prejudices weren’t too far from that, but she was no Voloth. No matter how backwards she thought a culture might be, it was never a reason for extermination.
“Lack of technology or not, we will destroy them.” Lancer Tal’s tone left no room for doubt. “We need to know everything about this ground pounder. Two of our pilots have already engaged it, with no success. A class four missile had no effect, and disruptor fire was nothing more than a light show. Colonel, show us the attack.”
The first thing Ekatya noticed was that the Alsean fighter looked exactly like the rescue transports she’d watched the previous night. Its pilot was extremely good, pulling some of the most wicked maneuvers she’d ever seen and actually managing to avoid the rapidgun at close range. It was futile, of course, but she had to admire his skill. Then she held her breath as he came around for a second run, facing down the laser cannon.
“They certainly don’t lack courage,” Baldassar murmured.
Ekatya nodded absently, her eyes glued to the screen. The pilot’s luck ran out, and she winced when the laser cannon found its target. Such bravery for so little reason; their missiles could do nothing against a ground pounder’s shielding.
The second pilot was nearly as adept as the first, judging by her attempts to avoid the Voloth missile. Firing a decoy was a smart strategy, but ultimately useless, and Ekatya closed her eyes when the screen went white. What a waste, all of them.
“They’re unhurt.”
Ekatya turned from the screen to find Lancer Tal looking at her, her light eyes showing a bit more warmth. “The pilot was able to eject her cabin. She and her three crew landed safely and are now searching for the other pilot. We don’t yet know his status.”
“Then I hope she calls in more good news,” Ekatya said. “If all Alsean fighter pilots are as skilled and courageous as these, then you have a formidable air force.”
“Modro is my best rescue pilot,” said the colonel onscreen, “and Paraska is my best cargo pilot. That’s why they were sent on the search-and-rescue mission. However, I can say with justifiable pride that all of Whitesun’s pilots are excellent.”
Ekatya was caught on his first statement. “Did you say rescue and cargo? Those weren’t dedicated fighter pilots?”
“No,” he said, looking confused.
“Do you mean that you have pilots who fly fighting ships and nothing else?” Colonel Micah asked.
Ekatya and Baldassar looked at each other. “Yes, and we’ve never run across a technologically advanced culture that didn’t,” she told them.
“You must be wealthy in both material resources and personnel,” Lancer Tal said diplomatically. “It would never occur to us to build four different transport types where two will do. Rescue transports have the maneuverability for fighting, and cargo transports can handle bombing when necessary, as well as carrying the heavier air-launched missiles. We change the designation depending on their armaments.”
“And that was a cargo—er, bomber pilot performing those evasive maneuvers?”
When they nodded, Ekatya revised her impression of the second pilot, whose ability to fling around a larger, less maneuverable craft was formidable. Given half a chance, she’d recruit both of those Alseans into Fleet and request them for her own ship. If she still had a ship.
“You mentioned a class four missile,” Baldassar said. “Is that the most powerful you have?”
“Paraska carried class fives,” said Colonel Debrett. “Their explosive yield is three and a half times greater than the class four that Modro fired.”
“Class five is our most powerful air-launched missile,” Lancer Tal added.
“Do you have anything ground-based with a larger yield?” Baldassar asked. “For instance, a self-propelled nuclear fission missile?”
All four Alseans looked at him in horror. “A nuclear fission missile?” Colonel Micah repeated. “For what purpose, destroying an entire city?”
“We don’t poison ourselves or our planet intentionally,” said Lancer Tal. “Do you have such weapons?”
“We do, but only for use in space battles,” Ekatya said. “The radiation poses no danger there. Well, no additional danger,” she amended. “Space is full of radiation. But many cultures originally developed them for use on land.”
“Not even in our nightmares,” Lancer Tal said firmly. “Alsea suffered a catastrophic nuclear accident eighty cycles ago. It killed more than twenty thousand before our engineers could design a means of scrubbing the radiation from the environment, and we have long memories. No Alsean would even suggest such a thing, let alone find support for its development.”
“Then I’m afraid my earlier statement stands. You don’t have a weapon strong enough to get past the ground pounder’s shielding.”
“What about a combined attack?” asked Colonel Debrett. “My entire fleet is already scrambled and on its way. If they coordinate their missile strikes, could they overwhelm whatever protects that machine?”
Now it was Ekatya’s turn to be horrified. “You’ve launched all of your assets?”
“All assets at Whitesun Base, yes. We’re the closest; it had to be us.”
“And how many is that?”
“Forty-nine each of fighters and bombers, not counting the two you just saw.”
Stars and Shippers, these Alseans were suicidal. Brave, but suicidal. They’d just seen the ground pounder take out two of their best pilots without breaking a sweat, and their answer was to send ninety-eight more to die? Plus the bomber crews—that was about two hundred and fifty warriors flying to oblivion right now.
She turned to the Lancer, choosing her words carefully. “Lancer Tal, I feel responsible for this situation. My job was to neutralize the Voloth, and I did not complete the task. Let me finish it now. We have the necessary weaponry. Lieutenant Candini can fly one of our fighters to wherever this ground pounder is located and kill it.”
The Lancer shook her head. “I would hardly call missing one out of five hundred a failure. And while we appreciate your offer, this is our problem now. We’re asking you to help us solve it, not solve it for us.”
“And I would not deny my warriors the greatest opportunity for glory they have ever encountered,” said Colonel Debrett. “Weaponry alone does not decide an outcome.”
Colonel Micah was nodding. “Strategy wins more battles than sheer power.”
Rarely had Ekatya felt more frustrated. Candini could polish off this damned ground pounder with two shots, yet these brick-headed warriors couldn’t see far enough past their pride to let her do it.
“Honor, Captain,”
Lancer Tal said quietly. “We seek it until our Return.”
She was really beginning to hate having her mind read. Well, her feelings, at any rate. Taking a slow breath, she pushed down her frustration and tried a different approach.
“There is no question as to the honor of Alsean warriors. How could there be, when we’ve just watched a perfect display of it? But the fact remains that you do not have the means of disabling the ground pounder’s shielding. It runs on a feedback design that allows it to recharge its power source from both kinetic and electromagnetic energy.”
She could see that Lancer Tal was grasping the issue, but the others were not. Turning to the colonel on the viewscreen, she clarified. “Anything you shoot at the ground pounder will either bounce off the shield or dissipate across it. The shield will absorb the energy and redirect it to its power source. You’ll only make it stronger. There are two ways to break it. One is to punch through it, using so much power over a very tiny area that the energy net can’t handle the load at that point. For that you need a precision weapon, such as a phased laser with a beam half the diameter of a Gaian hair.” She pulled up one of her own hairs as an example. “And unless Dr. Rivers was wrong in her technology report, you don’t have a weapon like that.”
“And the other?” Colonel Micah asked.
“The brute force method. Overwhelm the entire shield with so much power that it can’t absorb it all. For that you would need a far more powerful impact. Not a combination of impacts, but one very short, sharp strike. A combined missile strike from all of your pilots would do it, but do you believe they could time a strike to half a second”—she snapped her fingers to illustrate—“while they’re all at varying distances and dodging unrelenting fire?”
When the translator finished, the room was silent.
“Perhaps we could combine our forces,” Lancer Tal said at last.
Ekatya wanted to cheer. For a moment she wondered why she restrained herself when they knew what she was feeling anyway.
“If you can disable the shielding,” Lancer Tal continued, “then our pilots can destroy the ground pounder. I presume that once the shield is down, it’s vulnerable to our weaponry?”
“Yes. The shield is the only line of defense it has. I’m sure you noticed that it was not constructed with a care for shrugging off weapons damage. There are critical components all over the surface, from power conduits to magazines for the rapidguns. Once the shield is down, it doesn’t take much to blow a ground pounder to atoms.”
“Now that’s a sight I’m looking forward to seeing,” Colonel Micah said, and the others murmured their agreement. The multiple voices confused the translator, but for once Ekatya didn’t need it. That was the sound of two hundred and fifty Alseans not dying for the sake of honor.
“But we have no time unless your fighters are much faster than ours,” Colonel Debrett said. “Even at the speed of sound, it would take three hanticks to fly from Blacksun all the way to central Pallea. The ground pounder will be at the next sizable village long before then, and I’m not certain the evacuation orders will reach every Alsean in time.”
Damn it, the translator didn’t convert their time scale. What had Lhyn said? A little less than a stellar hour and a half, right.
“That’s not a problem,” she said. “Our fighter can manage sustained atmospheric flight at four times the speed of sound. So that means it could be there in, er, three-fourths of a hantick.”
“Great Fahla,” said Colonel Micah. “Seventy-five ticks?”
A base ten system, Ekatya noted. Good, that made things simple.
Colonel Debrett was clearly taken aback as well, but recovered and shook his head. “That will still be close. By now the ground pounder is a hantick and eighty from the next town.”
“How long would it take to get from here to my ship, Lancer Tal?”
“About twenty ticks.”
“Plus the time to get a fighter out of the bay,” she mused. “Yes, it will be close. But we can do it if we start right now.”
“We’ll need to get back to Blacksun Base to coordinate this,” Lancer Tal said. “And Lieutenant Candini will require an Alsean copilot, both to guide her to the battle site and to maintain communication with us.”
“Agreed. How much time do we have before your pilots arrive, Colonel?”
The Alseans looked at the viewscreen, where Colonel Debrett consulted his wristcom. “We’re down to a hantick and twenty. They’ll be there before your fighter can join them.”
“Then tell them not to engage before it gets there,” Lancer Tal said.
“I need Dr. Rivers as well,” Ekatya added. “The translator will have to go with Lieutenant Candini again, and we’ll require the doctor’s services.”
Lancer Tal nodded. “We’ll bring her with us to Blacksun Base. Micah, call Colonel Northcliff and tell her that we need her best pilot for a cooperative mission with the Gaians. Whoever she chooses needs to leave immediately and join us at the Caphenon.”
The colonel nodded and stood, speaking quietly into his com before he even left the room. Lancer Tal ordered Gehrain to round up the Guards, Lhyn, and Candini, in that order, and paused when Ekatya asked for Commander Kameha and Trooper Xi to accompany them.
“We don’t know the condition of the fighter bay or the fighters, for that matter. Kameha is my chief engineer, and he and Xi are the only engineers I have left who can climb that ladder.”
“Understood. Bring them as well, and meet us at the transport. Oh, and get someone to fly my personal transport back to the base.” She acknowledged Gehrain’s salute, then told Colonel Debrett to brief his pilots on the ground pounder’s shielding technology. “That should help them keep their thumbs off the firing switch,” she said, and the colonel agreed.
Ending the call, she stood up, stretched, and gave Ekatya a rueful look. “I’m afraid our evenmeal plans have been disrupted.”
“Well, at least I’m getting some of my crew back on my ship.” Ekatya smiled when Commander Baldassar stiffened next to her, no doubt dismayed by her lack of tact.
The Lancer seemed equally amused. “Don’t worry, Commander. If the captain were going to offend me, she’s already had numerous opportunities.”
Clearly, this didn’t help, and Ekatya almost chuckled before remembering that she had yet to fully apologize for the worst of those opportunities.
“Will you give me a push, Commander?” she asked, and tipped a nod at the Lancer while Baldassar was occupied with turning her chair toward the door.
Having a bunch of empaths around was disconcerting to say the least, but she was realizing some of the advantages as well. She trusted the Lancer’s current lack of offense, and knew that a real apology could wait and not be less valued for the delay.
As Baldassar rolled her down the corridor, she wondered what it would be like to have an empathic crew. Did Alsean warrior units even need a personnel officer?
Chapter 22
Return to the Caphenon
The Guards were efficient. It wasn’t ten minutes before the Lancer’s transport was lifting off, this time with everyone in the main cabin. Lancer Tal stood at the front, holding on to an overhead grip while explaining the situation to both her Guards and, via the translator, to Ekatya’s own crew. Baldassar then stepped up next to her with specific orders for Candini, Kameha, and Xi.
“Dr. Rivers will be accompanying us to Blacksun Base to complete the translation chain,” he concluded. “Communications will be our weak link, so be certain of your orders before you act.”
As he took his seat in the row behind Ekatya, she leaned across the aisle and spoke quietly to Candini. “Above all, do not take the kill shot. Leave it to the Alseans, even if they’re getting blown out of the sky.”
“Are you serious?”
“That’s an order, Lieutenant.”
Lhyn, who had discreetly chosen a place on the other side of Candini, added, “They’re an honor-driven culture, and there’s no honor in le
tting us do all the work.”
“Or take all the glory,” Ekatya said.
“What if I let their pilot do it? The one coming with me?”
Ekatya shook her head. “It can’t be our weapon or our fighter. It has to be them.”
“Don’t they know what they’re up against?” Candini’s voice had gotten too loud, and she cast a glance around before adding in a lower tone, “Captain, it’ll be like taking a slingshot to a gun fight!”
“I know, but it’s not our call. We have to respect their choice. Remember, we’re not even supposed to be here.”
“Neither is that ground pounder,” Candini pointed out.
Ekatya shared her feelings, but enough was enough. “Which part of ‘that’s an order’ did you not understand, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, Captain.” She slumped against her seat. “Well, Lhyn, you’re about to get a chance to study Alsean funeral practices.”
“Stop it,” Lhyn said. “If Captain Serrado couldn’t convince them to let us take care of it, nobody could. Be grateful they’re allowing us this much. You’re going to save lives.”
“Not enough of them,” Candini grumbled.
Ekatya thought about the dead bodies strewn all around that burning village. No, they hadn’t saved enough of them. But the Alseans deserved their vengeance.
The ride to her ship was shorter than she remembered from the morning, and the military transports that appeared on either side of their larger craft were certainly different.
“Escorts,” said Lancer Tal when she asked. “We’ve just crossed into controlled airspace. There’s a cordon on the ground as well.”
The windows were cut low enough that if she leaned over the empty seat next to her, she could see it: a seemingly endless line of vehicles and uniformed warriors, blocking fields and the few roads as far as her sight reached. On each of the roads, long lines of what she’d bet were civilian vehicles snaked off into the distance, and non-uniformed Alseans faced the warriors in large clusters.