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My little bout of R&R was over. I headed back to the bridge, and looked over all the numbers. They had the tables back together and most of the equipment was operating. It looked banged-up, but it was amazing what a few million nanites can do after a couple of hours.
“No more missiles?” I asked.
“No sir,” Sarin answered.
“How are the repairs going?”
“Full speed, Colonel,” Miklos said, coming over to me. “Even my arm works again.”
“How many did we lose, all together?”
“Ships? Zero.”
“No, I meant marines.”
“Ah,” he said, running his fingers over a console. “Only about six hundred.”
“Only… Well, we didn’t lose the ship or the battle. At least not yet. What I want to know is why the rest of that flotilla out there hasn’t fired their missiles.”
Marvin floated near. He was taking liberties now, as I’d allowed him to fly within the pressurized central chamber of Phobos. It seemed he was gliding everywhere.
“Possibly, they viewed the failure of the first attack and are biding their time.”
I shook my head. “They didn’t really fail the first time, they almost had us. If I were the enemy commander, I’d unload five times as many waves of missiles and make them hit us thirty seconds apart. I mean, only one out of fourteen of their ships has fired anything.”
“There is another possibility,” Marvin said in his perky tone. “They may have decided to come in closer before firing again.”
I nodded. “That sounds more like it. But that will cost them. They don’t know about our range. When will they be in reach of our big crusher?”
“Assuming you mean the gravitational effect weapon—they are within range now.”
I frowned at Marvin. “They are? Why wasn’t I informed?”
“It is extreme range, I can’t be sure I’d hit the target. Also, the weapons systems were offline until the last few minutes.”
“Are we as close as we were to that battleship when you killed it?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t care about the details. We should be firing right now.”
Miklos stepped up. “I thought we might wait just a few more minutes, Colonel.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want them to be able to escape. If they close now, they will have a hard time reversing course due to their inertia. Also, if we could hit more precisely than before—”
I didn’t listen to whatever else Miklos had to say. I’d heard enough. He was playing the game cautiously again. I didn’t see that we had that luxury. There were far too many enemy ships in the field. Every second counted.
“Marvin,” I said, turning away from the Commodore. “You’re my weapons officer. Is your armament ready to fire?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been working hard on precision. Is your digitized control system now capable of striking with a more precise, narrowed area of effect?”
“It is a great achievement, if I may be so bold. I’ve perfected—”
“That’s great,” I said. “I want you to pick out an easy ship in that line and punch the smallest hole you can in its hull. Make sure it ruptures, that’s all that matters. The important thing is that you can recharge the weapon quickly and retarget—the way you did with the missiles. Do you think you can get a shot every minute?”
“More than that. I can—”
“Commence firing! Now!”
Marvin glided away and soon the ship gave her familiar little shiver. I knew the big gun had fired, and all we had to do was wait to see the results. I wheeled and faced Miklos and Sarin, my face was getting red.
“I demand to know why I wasn’t called to the bridge the moment the enemy was within extreme range.”
“Well sir, the range was extreme, as you say, and—”
“In my office. Now.”
I turned and didn’t wait for them to follow. I felt a surge of anger that I knew was going to result in a lot of shouting. I didn’t like to do shouting and demotions in front of the staffers. It wasn’t good for morale, especially during and on-going battle.
I shut the hatch behind them by slapping the interior wall. They looked at me worriedly.
“What’s going on?” I demanded. “You two are my most senior officers. If you can’t follow basic instructions—”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Jasmine began. “But we just don’t think we can win this one.”
I looked from one to the other, dumbfounded.
“Do I have to start relieving people?”
“That is your prerogative, Colonel,” Miklos said stiffly.
“Kyle,” Jasmine said, gaining my attention, “there are seven thousand of them out there. If we fire once a minute and never miss, it would take days to destroy them all. They will reach us in much less time, and we can’t defeat them when they do. They know about our defensive measures and our weaknesses.”
I finally reached the point of no return. I was pissed off.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” I asked. “I’m not a total fool. I know what the enemy can do. I’m mystified as to why they haven’t done it yet, in fact. But I also know what we can do. And I know that in every battle there are two wars going on simultaneously: the war of machines and the war of minds.”
They looked at me the way my beginning programming students had often done back in my college teaching days—like they were scared and had no idea what I was talking about.
“Morale, people. I’m talking about morale. One side will break first, and it won’t be us. If we’re tougher than they are, they might buckle even when they have the upper hand. They aren’t fighting for a cause they believe in, remember. Once they start taking terrible losses from a weapon they can’t even understand—can’t defend against at all—they’ll start thinking about retreating.”
Miklos raised a single finger, requesting permission to speak.
“What?” I demanded.
“Sir, we have no way of knowing if that is true. Those ships are probably crewed by the most loyal of Imperial personnel. They have endured countless days of propaganda, every hour of which has informed them of our evil ways.”
“Propaganda?” I asked incredulously. “Propaganda doesn’t make a thug lay down his life for a sham emperor.”
“Hold on, sir. That statement doesn’t hold with history.”
I grunted, knowing he was right. There were plenty of cases where good men died for the worst of dictators. They would fight for their homes and their comrades, if nothing else.
“All right,” I said. “We’ll see how the next phase goes then decide whether it is time to withdraw or not. In the meantime, array our fleet. Launch half the fighters after we punch the first holes in their line.”
They agreed, but they weren’t happy about it. They didn’t want to commit. They were still hoping I would see reason and limp out of the fight through the Tyche ring. Fortunately, I was the one in command.
We all walked back onto the bridge and assumed our places. Staffers looked at us and whispered if they dared. I ignored them all.
We were about an hour out from real contact. For that single hour, we were going to rule this battlefield. Part of me knew that my urge for revenge was driving me. I didn’t want to run after a beating like a whipped dog. I wanted them to feel some pain for all the damaged they’d done and the men they’d killed with their missiles and cyborgs. In the back of my mind, I knew that I might reconsider after we’d softened them up and they came close enough to use their lasers.
“Have we got optical confirmation on any hits?” I demanded.
“Not yet, Colonel,” Marvin said. His limbs worked his console with blurring efficiency.
I frowned and approached him. I looked at the numbers. He’d already fired several times.
“Why am I not seeing any damage?” I asked.
“I’ve tried twice to strike this vessel, ship number nine hundred and ninety-seven.”
I frowned. The ship was right there on the screen, and it looked untouched.
“You missed?”
“Unknown.”
“What do you mean ‘unknown’?” I said, raising my voice.
“We should have hit it, but it’s still there. Two shots—no reaction.”
I stood there, staring. My heart sank. I had all kinds of reasons swimming in my head why this might be the case. None of them were good. Maybe the battle had damaged the unit. Maybe Marvin was missing—or damaged himself. Maybe…worst of all, maybe the enemy had some kind of defense against our weapon.
My face was a mask. “Why that ship, Marvin? Why hit it twice?”
“Number nine hundred and ninety seven is the highest prime number under one thousand. One of my favorites.”
“Too bad,” I said. “Fire at another one. The one next to it. Fire now.”
“That’s not a best case target—”
“You’re targeting sucks! Follow my orders!”
I knew I was losing it, and I forced myself to take a deep breath to regain control as he tapped the ship I’d indicated and nailed it. A little while later, I indicated more targets, and he shot at them in sequence. I chose even numbered ships every time—just to make sure they weren’t one of his happy little prime numbers.
Marvin seemed agitated. “Sir, these are not the optimal targets.”
“Why not? Explain yourself.”
“The even numbered ships have fired many missiles. I was trying to hit the ships that didn’t fire at all. Those vessels presumably have full ordnance and are more dangerous—thus they are higher-valued targets.”
I nodded, understanding his logic. “I still don’t understand why so few of their ships fired at us,” I said.
“Colonel!” Jasmine shouted. “A hit, sir!”
I applied my fingers to the screen. I panned and zoomed. She was right. The first one I’d ordered Marvin to fire upon was a puff of gas and twisted metal. From this vast distance, it was difficult to see exactly how the ship had taken the hit—but we could tell it had been destroyed.
I ordered Marvin to keep firing on the ships. I let him choose his targets. I watched with growing relief as five ships were destroyed in short order. They went up one at a time with less than a minute between strikes. Marvin’s control over the ship’s systems had greatly improved. He was now capable of using small, focused charges with the weapon which allowed for shorter power recharging times. I was certain he could control it better than Tolerance had himself.
But after about five hits, we started missing again. I hurried back to Marvin’s targeting screens.
“Put a circle around every ship you fired on,” I ordered. “Make the circles yellow on hits, blue on misses.”
Soon, they were appearing. I noticed something immediately. “You’re firing on odd-numbered ships again!”
Marvin’s tentacles writhed. He looked upset. “You gave me permission to choose targets. I went back to firing upon ships that haven’t yet released any missiles.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and nodded. “Marvin, from now on, I want you to target only ships that have fired upon us previously. Do you understand? Leave the rest alone.”
“That is not—”
“You have your orders. Carry them out or be relieved as gunner.”
I was bluffing, of course. No one else could operate this monstrosity of alien tech.
“There’s no need for threats,” he said, sounding a little miffed. “I will fire on the approved targets.”
I watched as he worked the controls. Soon, we were scoring hits again.
Miklos came over to me and watched. “It might be a few drops in the bucket, but at least we’re making an accounting for ourselves.”
“How long until our fighters hit their lines?” I asked.
“Twenty more minutes.”
“Get me in contact with our wing commanders.”
Miklos gave me a strange look. I knew what he was thinking: here goes Riggs, micromanaging again, but I didn’t care what he thought. I was beginning to suspect something, and if I was right, nothing else mattered.
I talked to none other than Wing Commander Becker. She’d once given me a tour of space in her fighter—and regretted it.
“Becker?” I asked. “Listen, I want you to coast. You don’t have to decelerate, but get your foot off the gas and glide in.”
“That’s not our normal procedure, Colonel.”
“Yeah, I know. Just do it.”
“May I ask why, sir?”
“I want to destroy a few more ships before you hit them. By our calculations, you won’t reach their line for about forty minutes if you start coasting now.”
She was quiet for a second, then: “Sir…if we do that, we’re liable to take more losses from their counter-fire. These little ships don’t have a lot in the way of armor.”
“I know that. Sit tight for updates. Riggs out.”
Jasmine felt the urge to approach me next. “Colonel, there are seven thousand of them. Our fighters are probably on a suicide mission anyway. If we destroy a few more of the enemy—even a hundred more, it won’t make much difference.”
“On the contrary,” I said. “It will make all the difference in the world.”
She gave up after that. The battle, if you could call it that, went on.
Battles in space aren’t always fair. This one was a case in point. Often, due to extreme ranges and varied ship design, one side or the other had a significant advantage during a given stage of the conflict. At the start of this combat, they’d shot missiles and we had no viable response. We could have fired our own missiles, but with so many ships we’d calculated they would have destroyed them with defensive fire. Because they’d outranged us, they’d been able to work us over and nearly take out our key ship.
But now, things had changed. We had the range on them at this distance, and they had no viable defense against our gravity cannon. I began to smile after we trash-canned their sixtieth ship. The smile just kept growing after that.
Unfortunately, few of the others on the bridge shared my enthusiasm. It was the sheer number of the enemy that daunted them, I knew. In their minds, we’d already lost. I understood their logic perfectly: What did it matter if the enemy had six thousand nine hundred ships, rather than seven thousand? We would still be wiped out when they came in close enough to use their lasers.
I refused to accept that. I wasn’t beaten yet. Far from it.
“Colonel?” Jasmine asked me suddenly.
I turned to her, and she looked surprised. Her pretty eyes were wide.
“The enemy is attempting to contact us,” she said.
I nodded. “Put them on the screen.”
This time, unlike a dozen previous such contacts, we were not treated to a little propaganda vid showing Crow doing something altruistic. Instead, the steel eagle appeared and vanished quickly, replaced by an admiral’s face.
I was glad it wasn’t General Kerr. I would have liked to kill him, but I hated him so much that I couldn’t have enjoyed this situation fully if I’d been forced to deal with him.
“Rebel ship,” the admiral began stiffly, “this is Admiral Newcome of the HMS Tasmania. I’m contacting you to discuss terms.”
Newcome looked and sounded British. His pink skull and jowls were frosted with white hair. Every last lock of it that hadn’t fallen out due to age had been carefully groomed into an individual, spiraling curl. To me, his hair resembled lamb’s wool upon a badly shaven lamb.
“HMS?” I asked. “Oh, I get it…Crow is ‘his majesty’ right?”
“Am I correct in assuming I’m talking to Kyle Riggs?”
“Yes. I’m Colonel Riggs.”
“Colonel? A strange appellation for a pirate.”
He seemed angry. I smiled at him.
“Yeah,” I said. “We pirates make up all kinds of fancy names for ourselves. Like Emperor, for example. Now tell me if I heard correctly Newcome. You wish to surrender your fleet, right?”
“What? Certainly not. We understand you have an impressive weapon with a tremendous range. But you cannot prevail, sir. We outnumber you by more than ten to one. I would suggest to prevent further loss of life on both sides that we—”
“They’re fake,” I said suddenly, interrupting him.
“What was that?”
“Decoys. Illusions. I’m impressed by your new technological developments as well, Admiral Newcome. And you are quite an actor, sir. But unfortunately, in the calculus of war, a weapon that destroys the enemy is better than a trick—as effective as your trick is.”
Newcome looked stunned. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked at me with something new in his eyes. I’d seen that look before: it was fear.
“We outnumber you, Newcome,” I said. “We always did. Your ships are larger, I’ll give you that. But in total tonnage you don’t have anything that even comes close to the firepower of Phobos.”
“Phobos?” he stuttered.
“It means terror in Greek, I believe. And that’s what this big alien ship is: the embodiment of terror.”
It took a moment, but the admiral seemed to regain some of his composure. “Colonel Riggs, this battle is unnecessary. It is, in fact, insane. We should all be facing the real enemy together, the aliens. Why can’t you see that?”
At that moment, I decided I liked this guy. I turned my head to Marvin.
“Gunner? Ceasefire.”
I turned to Jasmine next, who looked stunned. She didn’t seem to quite grasp what was going on, but she was going with the flow.
“Captain Sarin,” I said, “Tell our fighters to decelerate. Stop the countdown on the missile barrage. The Admiral and I need time to talk.”
I saw her open her mouth, but then close it again. I knew she’d been about to ask me what missile barrage I was talking about. None were scheduled as we were planning to hold on to those assets as long as possible. But she didn’t say anything to throw off my little stage play.
“Standing down, Colonel,” she said.
I turned back to the screen, where Admiral Newcome was staring back at me. He looked very worried, but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes.
I’ve got you now, I thought.