“If there were, the Horde would get them,” Steve muttered. “Continue firing!”
The Horde pressed closer, as if each of them were eager to put an end to the human fleet personally. They were, Steve realised grimly; they all wanted the glory that came from taking out the human ships. And it was working in his favour; from time to time, one of the ships would deliberately block another’s path, just to try to prevent them from scoring a decisive blow. He smirked as he imagined the enemy commander’s feelings, then concentrated on the battle. They needed to keep inching backwards…
“The minefield is active,” Kevin reported. “A few more minutes and we will be ready to give them such a blow…”
“Let us hope so,” Steve muttered.
Yss!Yaa watched, powerless to affect events, as his ships danced around the human vessels, firing madly into their shields. It was insane! They should have been able to overwhelm the humans with ease, but they simply weren’t cooperating! At least one starship had been lost through another starship nudging it away… right into human sights. It was absolute madness… and yet he knew he wouldn’t be able to call a halt. His people were angry; they wanted blood. Worst of all, he knew, he wouldn’t even be able to penalise the idiots after the battle, because they would look like victors!
I wonder if the humans have these problems, he thought, savagely. He clacked a claw against the side of his throne as a human starship slammed several pulses of energy into his ship’s shields. Unlike his people, the humans seemed to have mastered rotating their shield generators to provide additional protection, damn them. And if they don’t, why not?
But he knew the answer, even if it wasn’t something he could admit outside his own head. Everyone who might push for change had a strong incentive to keep matters precisely as they were… and everyone who didn’t had no real power to force change, not even him. He might be their leader, but there were limits to his power.
“The enemy is retreating,” the weapons officer said. “They’re trying to pull back.”
Yss!Yaa sighed. “Then take us after them,” he ordered. “Let us put an end to this.”
Steve watched grimly as the alien ships gave chase, pushing forward recklessly to try to claim the kills for themselves. They’d stealthed the minefield as best as they could, using a mixture of human and alien technology, but he had few illusions about just how long the cover would work if the aliens started to really hunt for them.
“The mines are active,” Kevin reported. “I’m supplying them with targeting data directly.”
“Good,” Steve said. If the mines had started to use active sensors of their own, the Horde would have known they were there at once. But by broadcasting targeting data from the starships, the mines could remain passive. “Do they have total lock?”
“Yes,” Kevin said, after a moment. “They’re locked on all remaining Horde starships.”
Steve sucked in a breath. “Fire,” he ordered.
“Energy spike,” the sensor officer snapped. “All around us!”
Yss!Yaa opened his mouth to shout orders, but it was already too late.
The mines were simple enough. Nuclear bombs had been taken from Earth and converted into bomb-pumped lasers, each one capable of stabbing out one single blast of ravenous energy. Unlike a conventional nuclear blast, which would have largely been deflected by a starship’s shields, the needle-like laser struck the force fields and burned right through them.
“Mines detonated,” Mongo said. “Steve, I think we got them.”
Steve nodded. Only two Horde warships were left, both heavily damaged. One of them seemed to have enough motive power to start crawling towards the planet, the other seemed to be completely stranded. Given that it was leaking atmosphere from a dozen hull breaches, it was quite possible that the crew was already dead.
Because they don’t bother with spacesuits or even light protective gear, he thought, shaking his head at the sheer unfairness of the universe. How had a bunch of primitives barely entering their Iron Age been allowed to obtain interstellar starships? But then, they’d never understood the ships they operated or how to actually produce more technology to replace what they’d bought, begged or stolen from the Galactics.
“Start deploying combat teams,” he ordered. “I want those ships secured as quickly as possible.”
“Aye, sir,” Mongo said.
Steve nodded, then looked over at Kevin. “Contact Edward,” he added. By now, the soldiers who should have gone to Ying would have assembled at their training base. “I want him to send five companies of space-trained soldiers to serve as reinforcements, just in case.”
“Understood,” Kevin said. “Sir… what about the homeships?”
“I would have expected them to run,” Steve commented. But all five homeships were still there, sitting in interplanetary space and waiting. “But we can secure them too.”
He looked down at his display as his subordinates got to work, silently counting the cost. Shadow Warrior hadn’t taken any major damage, but two of her shield generators were gone and three more probably needed urgent replacement. Enterprise had been badly damaged; looking at the reports, it was a minor miracle that the Hordesmen hadn’t managed to finish the job before they were defeated. Only Captain Perry had escaped almost completely. Steve wondered if the starship led a charmed life… or if the Hordesmen had wanted to recapture her rather than simply blow her out of space.
The other ships hadn’t done any better. Five q-ships had been destroyed, three more were completely beyond easy repair. And the older ships they’d turned into the ghost squadron had been destroyed, of course. But they’d taken more than their fair share of enemy spacers with them. All things considered, Steve told himself, they’d been very lucky.
But it wasn’t true for the civilians on Earth, he reminded himself, sharply. Eleven cities wiped out by long-range missiles, several coastlines pounded by tidal waves caused by the final missile. The death toll would be in the millions and rising fast as people died through lack of health care and other provisions. Handling such a global catastrophe would push even the most competent government to the limit.
“Deploy as many of the shuttles, surveillance gear and fabricators as can be spared to assist with the rescue operations,” Steve ordered. Mariko would kill him if he didn’t try to help — and besides, he certainly wanted to help. “Clear it with the local governments, then spread our assistance as far as possible.”
“There’ll be bitching if we don’t put New York first,” Kevin commented. He sounded calmer now, but there was still an undercurrent of rage in his voice. “Lots of us have emotional connections to the city.”
“But we have a global responsibility,” Steve said.
“Picking up a message from the boarding parties,” Mongo said, suddenly. “They need someone who can talk to the Horde women in their own tongue.”
Steve frowned. “Call Heinlein,” he said, finally. “Tell them to send our alien friend.”
Cn!lss had never really expected to set eyes on a woman of his kind, not after he’d effectively joined the human race. Even if he’d stayed with the Horde, it was unlikely that he would ever have been able to breed. The stupidest warrior was still strong enough to take any woman from him, no matter what he said or did. And besides, the women themselves were reluctant to breed with someone who wasn’t considered a hero.