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“Pardon the statistics, but they are important. There are one million occupied stars in the Sovereignty and another hundred million or so that either lack habitable worlds or where intelligent life never developed. If the Broa are completely clueless as to our location, they will have to search a spherical volume of space some 7000 light-years in radius. A sphere that large contains approximately a billion stars. Since the sun and its cousins represent only five percent of the stars in the galaxy, that leaves them with fifty million G-class stars to search before they find us.
“However, we do not believe the Broa are clueless. Or rather, they shouldn’t be. Sar-Say’s ship was thrown into our neighborhood when the stargate it was transiting overloaded. When a ship appears in normal space following a single-ended jump, the gravity wave is omnidirectional. However, waves generated by stargates are not. That is, when a ship jumps, the gate emits two gravity waves aligned along its axis. These two waves race outward from the gate, traveling in opposite directions. Each wave expands as it moves through space, sweeping out a volume that describes a relatively narrow cone.
“If the Broa assume that Sol lies somewhere within one of these expansion cones oriented along the axis of Sar-Say’s stargate, which indeed it does, they can reduce their search considerably. In fact, they will only have to check some 500,000 G-class stars before they find us.
“This is the situation we simulated.”
Landon activated the display. In the cube, scattered stars began to turn red, indicating that they had been searched by a Broan ship launched there in a single-ended jump. These were confined to two lanes emanating in opposite directions, lanes that broadened as they extended outward. At first the scattering of red stars grew apace, but then began to slow. Before the lanes reached two thousand light-years in length, the expansion halted.
“What we learned,” Landon said, “is that if the Broa use their stargates to search candidate G-class stars, they will never find us. Searching via single-ended jump is exceptionally expensive. They will run out of resources before they cross from their arm of the galaxy to our own.”
#
Where previously the audience had buzzed in reaction to being startled, this time they roared. Dozens of questions were shouted at the dais.
The furor died to a dull roar within a few minutes and Dan Landon began signaling for silence. He pointed to a gray-haired woman in front.
“Ma’am, do you have a question?”
“Alicia Silvergaard, Member from Australia,” she said in a voice that betrayed her origin with the first word. “Could you please expand your last statement, Admiral? What resources? Why must they stop looking?”
Landon explained: “The problem with using single-ended jumps is that it eats up stargates. Normally, the Broa listen for electromagnetic emissions before they send a fleet to conquer a new species. The fleet carries with it at least two disassembled stargates, which they erect once they have completed their conquest. Those gates are used by the fleet to return home. The gates themselves, however, are left behind. The Broa have no way to retrieve them. That is the reason the Vrathalatar gate was still in the system a century after it was destroyed. Searching five hundred thousand stars eats up a lot of gates. The effort is beyond Broan economic capability.
“Yes, sir?” Landon said, pointing at an MP in the back row.
“Giles Narden from North Europe Five, Admiral. I can’t say that I care for Mr. Vasloff and his Peace Now! people, but haven’t you just made his point? If the Broa can’t afford to search for us, why are we preparing to kick their asses? Why not let sleeping monsters lie?”
“Because, they aren’t sleeping. The scenario I just showed you is only one possibility. The situation changes if they adopt our stardrive technology.”
“They don’t know about the stardrive,” the M.P. objected.
“They most certainly do. We demonstrated it to them at Sabator, and less blatantly at Pastol. Moreover, we believe they’ve known about it for a long time.”
“How?”
“Physics is universal, Mr. Narden. Just as we quickly figured out the principle of the stargate once we actually saw one, they will have no trouble divining the science behind the stardrive.”
“Then why don’t they have faster-than-light ships?”
“Because the technology is too disruptive to their empire. They suppressed it rather than let their slaves slip their chains. That doesn’t mean the technology cannot be resurrected. That was the next possibility that we simulated.”
Another touch of the controls and the holocube changed once again. At first, the same translucent band of stars hovered before them. The red dots appeared in the two expansion cones as before. But this time, instead of slowing as the search progressed, the expansion accelerated. The geyser of red marks reached the dark band separating the Perseus Arm from the Orion Stub, and continued apace to engulf the emerald dot that was Sol.
As pandemonium once again erupted, Nadine Halstrom noted a distinguished man in the second row rise to his feet and signal for attention. When the crowd was once more under control, she said, “Yes, Minister Hargrove? What is the question from the Leader of the Loyal Opposition?”
“You people seem damned cheerful, having just announced the end of the world, Nadine,” Hargrove growled. “What’s going on?”
“The Admiral isn’t quite through, John. Hear him out.” The Coordinator swiveled in her seat and said, “You may proceed, Admiral Landon.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.” He turned to the audience as the corners of his mouth turned up in the expression his staff referred to as his ‘evil grin.’
“Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the long buildup. However, it was necessary to give you the background before I explained our strategy. As you can see from the time hack, if the Broa adopt the stardrive, they will be here in approximately seven-and-a-half years. We found that result as startling as you have.
“You have seen our attack plan. We do not believe the Broa can defend against it. A starship has an inherent advantage over a stargate. It is impossible to predict where or when it will drop out of superlight. Since starships do not produce gravity waves, they are free to wreak havoc at will.
“On the downside, starships have the advantage that a single ship can inspect multiple stars for signs of human habitation. Starships have no need to leave a trail of discarded stargates in their wake. With the Sovereignty’s population and productive capacity, even after we have done our worst, the Broa will be able to convert their existing fleet to stardrive at a rate that is literally mindboggling.”
Landon paused to let the audience’s curiosity build. It seemed to be working. After ten seconds, he continued:
“The incontrovertible fact, ladies and gentlemen, is that a lone planet cannot defeat a galactic empire, no matter how clever that planet’s people might be. To defeat the Broa, we will need allies. Luckily, our attack will provide us with billions of potential recruits to our cause.”
Minister Hargrove spoke again. “You expect the Sovereignty’s slaves to rally to our side?”
“We do. In fact, we have been pursuing a secret program to win them over for some time.”
“What secret program, Admiral Landon? Why have I not heard of it?”
“It is called Operation Trojan Horse, and you will hear of it now.”
#
Chapter Forty-Seven
The yellow star was merely the brightest light in an ebon firmament sprinkled with the diamond points of even more distant stars. Below and to the right, nearly to the edge of the screen, a patch of haze covered one full angular degree of starscape. Even at a distance of 700 light-years, the flower-like Crab Nebula was one of the most prominent objects in the night sky. Hanging low and to the left, an insignificant point of light was visible only to those who knew where to look. That was Hideout, from whence the fleet had departed a month earlier.
Dan Landon sat in his command chair aboard TSNS Devastator and watched the chr
onometer count down toward H-Hour, M-Minute, and S-Second. He was clad in his vacsuit, minus the helmet, as was the bridge crew around him.
It is a conceit of modernity that people speak blithely of “the end of an era” each time a fashion in popular music changes, or when a beloved holo star dies. Such labels are too precious to be thrown about lightly. They should be saved for occasions when something truly important requires them.
The chance encounter between alien and human in the New Eden system a decade ago had been such an event.
Dan remembered that first gravity wave and the chill he’d felt as something beyond his experience pierced Magellan. Seared into his brain was Jani Rykand’s excited expression as she reported two battling alien craft near her scout, the last view anyone would have of her. Then had come the desperate improvisation with which he killed the Broan attacker and the excitement as Harlan Frees reported a lone survivor aboard the damaged alien transport.
For a million years, Homo sapiens Terra had lived secure in the knowledge that they alone in the universe possessed God’s gift of intelligence. Then, a silly-looking near-monkey materialized from out of empty vacuum and changed that idea forever.
The long days and nights spent planning the assault on the Broa had altered Landon’s view of the enemy. They no longer seemed as formidable as on that day when he’d watched that Avenger coming straight for him. The four-meter tall monsters of those hectic few minutes had given way to smaller creatures in his imagination. It was true that the Broa were masters of the Perseus Arm of the Galaxy. However, their power was not due to any innate competence or talent on their part, but rather the fact of a simple historical accident. The Broa had been first to discover the stargate.
The gates were a technological trick that gave them power over every other species with which they came in contact, but only for as long as it remained the only trick available.
The pseudo-simians had run out of luck that day at New Eden. Unlike their previous victims, humanity possessed a different means for reaching the stars. And while inferior to the stargate over long distances, the stardrive had an inherent advantage over the stargate. Starships did not betray themselves with gravity waves when they transitioned to or from superlight.
That the Broa had used the gates to subdue a million other species was impressive from the vantage point of a race whose possessions consisted of a single home world and a dozen struggling colonies. But Landon had spent many long hours looking down on the Broa from a simulated point high above the Milky Way. From that perch, they were not impressive at all. In fact, their realm was but a small colored egg afloat in a sea of 200 billion uncharted stars.
Which brought up an obvious question.
What other galactic empires lurked unknown within the galaxy’s vastness? Was there another raging menace just beyond Earth’s interstellar horizon, a threat worse than the Broa would ever be? And what lay beyond that?
“Great fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite ‘em,
And little fleas have lesser fleas, and so ad infinitum.
And the great fleas themselves, in turn, have greater fleas to go on,
While these again have greater still, and greater still, and so on.”
Landon shook himself. These were hardly thoughts worthy of a commanding admiral whose far-flung fleet was about to embark on the greatest gamble of all time.
He turned his attention back to the main viewscreen. The star that had given rise to the Broan species was but one light-month distant. Around it, the firmament was sprinkled with points of light that were more distant stars.
Ships like Landon’s floated at the edge of many of these stars. They, too, were waiting for the chronometer to count off the seconds. If there were bigger challenges and worse overlords elsewhere in the galaxy, they would have to wait their time and their turn. At the moment, humanity had its hands full.
How does one eat an elephant? One bite at a time.
It was time to take that first bite.
“Five minutes, Admiral,” the communicator-on-duty announced.
“Thank you,” he responded. “I want to speak to the other two ships of the strike force in two minutes. Where’s the freighter?”
“Twelve light-minutes off our ventral airlock.”
“Okay, too far to participate. Like the scouts, they’ll have to hear about it in the history books.”
Task Force Alpha consisted of just six ships: the Blastship Devastator, two cruisers, Hilo and Fordham, the bulk freighter, Largesse, and two destroyers, Aardvark and Penguin.
The blastship and cruisers comprised the actual strike force. They would deliver the first blow against the enemy home star. The freighter, which carried all of their consumables and spare parts, had broken out of superlight too wide of the rendezvous point to close the gap in time. No matter. Largesse’s captain would have plenty more opportunities to improve his astrogation before they saw home again.
The destroyers dropped sublight at the rendezvous just long enough to check in, and proceeded to their stations on opposite sides of the Oort Cloud. They were now comfortably ensconced among the floating icebergs of creation, preparing to observe the attack and to destroy any replacement stargate as soon as it emitted its first gravity wave.
Other strike forces hovered near stars throughout the Sovereignty. The initial attack would isolate 263 separate systems. Following first strikes, each task force would split up and begin whittling down a long list of secondary and tertiary targets. That was the reason freighters were accompanying the warships. They gave the task forces the endurance to hit many more systems before they were forced to return to base for resupply.
“Admiral, a report from the cruisers. They have run through their pre-attack diagnostics. All systems are operational.”
“Very well.”
“Three minutes, sir.”
“All right, put me on the net.”
“You’re on, Admiral.”
Landon keyed for the intercom. His words were relayed to the cruisers by comm laser. They also echoed from speakers in every compartment aboard Devastator.
“Ladies and gentlemen of Strike Force Alpha. Our time has come. Shortly we will initiate a battle against an enemy that outnumbers us a million to one. I know each of you will do your jobs and do them well.
“Once the attack begins, the fight will continue to victory or death. We are not the first people in history to face such a choice. When Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon, he told his men ‘Alea iacta est’… the die is cast.
“You know the plan. We will have twelve seconds on target. Get in, take your shots, confirm your kills, and get out. I want to see all of you back here within half a minute. We will take stock and exchange observations before going our separate ways. We rendezvous again for supply in three weeks at System Beta Nine.
“Secure your suits and check your straps. We are one minute from Zero Hour. Good luck and good hunting.”
Landon put on his helmet, checked for pressure integrity, sat back and tried to keep his voice calm despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
The chronometer clicked down toward 00:00:30.
Einstein had once postulated that there is no such thing as simultaneity in a universe where light speed is finite. What did Einstein know? All over the Sovereignty, other captains were doing the same thing… securing their helmets, watching the time, and figuratively chewing their nails.
The chronometer read 00:00:20.
Damn this was nerve wracking!
The chronometer read 00:00:10.
All around him, he could hear the simultaneous cessation of breathing over the command circuit.
The chronometer said 00:00:05… :04… :03… :02… :01… :00.
“Execute!”
#
Captain Lars Biedermann, of the Cruiser Exeter, watched the reddish sun in his viewscreen as the chronometer ticked down to zero. His target was a thousand light-years distant from Planet X, a crossroads system
the Q-ships had observed two years earlier.
When the chronometer flashed 00:00:00, he keyed his intercom.
“Execute Plan Delta, Ms. Ferris!”
“Aye aye, Captain. Plan Delta!”
There was a moment in superlight, followed by a sudden flash of ruby light as a great, burning coal of a star filled the viewscreen. Two quiet thumps announced the launch of their SMs.
“Hit!” an exultant voice screamed over the intercom almost immediately. “Both missiles hit! Target is destroyed!”
“Withdraw,” Biedermann ordered.
Another moment of superlight, and the red star was once again a point of light. Screams of joy swamped the suit microphones, producing a cacophony in his earphones. Somehow, he didn’t mind.
#
Chapter Forty-Eight
Captain Mark Rykand of the Q-Ship Xavier del Bac, a Type Seven Freighter, sat in his command chair and held his breath. Ten seconds earlier, the Cruiser Lancer had disappeared from his sensor array, en route to its target, a Sol-like star a light-month distant. All across Broan space, other ships were doing the same.
The assault on the Broa had begun!
At this very moment, stargates all over the Sovereignty were being vaporized by hailstorms of hypervelocity shrapnel. Fifty-generation-old trade routes were gone in a microsecond. Ships carrying vital cargos suddenly found themselves trapped in whatever star system they were traversing. Some of these systems lacked habitable planets.
Other systems were home to species ruled over by the Broa so long that their written histories did not record a time before the pseudo-simians. As for the Broa themselves, the masters of a million suns were being rudely introduced to the fact that they had acquired a competitor.