The New Species 37 (Patreon)

Chapter 37

Subject: Captain Wong

Species: Human

Description: Mammalian humanoid, no tail. 6'2" (1.87 m) avg height. 185 lbs (84 kg) avg weight. 170 year life expectancy.

Ship: USSS Valor

Location: Sol

"Tim, how many do we have left?" I asked.

"29,683,271. We have destroyed 8,471,282... 283... 284... 286..." Tim replied.

"Right, I get it. Well, let's keep at it."

The Omni-Union had attacked about ten minutes after Tim had told me that our invasion had begun. Not all of our ships had had the chance to apply the FTLD patch, but the Valor had. The AI that insists on following me around does have its uses.

Despite the patch, we were ordered to defend the Thanatos. All ten frigates and one hundred fighters were deployed in a defense perimeter. The USSS Valor, Pride, Shield, Rosenthal, Spear, Gambler, Grateful Carnivore, Bulk, and the freshly repaired Sword. I rolled my eyes when I remembered the Bulk. We've really got to find a better way to name our ships.

The way it currently works is that the engineering crew that constructs the ship gets to name it so long as the name isn't already taken or profane. There's an entire quality assurance team of over one hundred thousand individuals from different cultures to make certain that the engineering team doesn't get too clever with puns.

Like the Phallic Phalanx. If you didn't speak any Latin, that would seem to be a military maneuvering tactic. The QA team had a tough time on that one because most translators get confused with it. Both words are Latin in origin but are also considered part of the English language. So a translator would read phallic phalanx as phallic phalanx. The only way it didn't slip the net was that nobody knew what it meant so they had to check the definition of phallic and phalanx.

The phrase phallic phalanx, as it turns out, means a formation of shield carrying soldiers in the overall shape of a penis. The situation made interplanetary news because it ended up costing enough to make it the most expensive dick joke of all time.

"Target identified. Firing," Babanin said in a bored tone.

We were ordered to hold position and target anything that targeted our formation. We took this to mean anything that looked like it might start targeting our formation. Even so, the Omni-Union was painfully unaware that the Thanatos was currently host to the commanders of the joint fleet.

Admiral Heckett and Fleet Leader Onaya had both taken up residence on the Thanatos in an attempt to better coordinate the fleets. Heckett had said that he liked the ship more than the science station. The importance of our assignment didn't make me feel any better about not being in the thick of it, though. Especially once the casualty notifications started rolling in.

"Kill confirmed. No further targets," Babanin reported with a slight yawn.

The Lowelana was still docked. If things went south the plan was to have the fleet leader board the Lowelana and have Uleena do his best to evacuate him. It was certainly a last ditch plan, though. If things go badly enough that the Thanatos is at risk of destruction, there's almost no chance the Lowelana's getting away.

--

Permission to pursue fleeing target?

-Captain Samuels USSS Sword

--

Reynolds had made me squad leader for all ten ships. I had expected some pushback because most of the captains are more tenured than I am. But everyone had done exactly as they were told without a single complaint. Well... a single complaint to ME.

Samuels, on the other hand, wasn't more tenured than I am. As a matter of fact, she just received this command three months ago. Which is probably why her ship was the only casualty in the second assault. No, that's not quite fair. Nobody really believes that an enemy will kamikaze until it happens.

--

Denied. Hold formation. Our job is to protect the Thanatos, killing the enemy is just a treat we get for doing so.

-Captain Wong USSS Valor

--

"I'm going to die of boredom, Babanin," I said.

"I could give you access to a copy of The Alumari Renegade, sir," Tim chimed in with a literal chiming sound.

"Wasn't talking to you, Tim. And I hate romance novels," I replied tersely.

"Ah, but you know about it. What, read it already or something?"

"Everyone knows about The Alumari Renegade. A trashy smut novel that the author wrote to expand his horizons. It ended up becoming more popular than his more serious works. Every author's worst nightmare," I said with a chuckle. "Now get back to work you bucket of bolts."

"Aye, sir," the AI responded. Then after a second of silence, "I do want to point out that I don't have any buckets or bolts, though."

"Can it."

Lieutenant Babanin chuckled at the exchange and said, "Well, sir, dying of boredom isn't all that bad. It could be worse."

As he said the accursed phrase I watched two enemy destroyers on the tac-map turn to target us directly. I nearly got my mouth open to say something about it when two friendly MAC rounds began sailing toward the enemies at unbelievable speeds. I glared pointedly at Babanin, who saw the exact same thing I did.

"Don't do that again, lieutenant," I said.

"Aye aye, sir," he said with a smile.

I leaned back in my chair, finally accepting my fate as a spectator. The last battle had had a different tone to it. Well, if you could call that a battle. It had been closer to a very quick slaughter. They jumped into the system and were destroyed before they could get a single round off.

Scuttlebutt had said that the OU were basing their attacks on how many ships we had in the system, so everyone was expecting the last fight to end fast. We had been dreading this one, though. With good reason. Nearly 40 million ships had warped into the system and immediately began attacking.

But by now most of the fleet had finished the FTLD patch and were warping with wild abandon, which caused the casualty notifications to slow down significantly. These robotic bastards definitely didn't account for that. Sol was going to get a massive economy buff after all this fighting. Mars and Titan both had the tech to unpack the balls of atoms that were left over from the A2 cleanup.

Once we won this war we'd probably have to assign policing units to make certain that the conglomerations don't war over the salvage rights. Sol was riddled with corporate conglomerations that were more bloodthirsty than even the Daluran. Hell, they'd probably lobbied for the Daluran's extinction to try to get mining and colonization rights to their home-world.

All that's above my pay-grade, though. I'm just a captain of a warship that's watching a battle play out instead of fighting in it. Still, it beats being stuck aboard the Thanatos at the moment. That ship is absolutely lousy with AI right now. And if I had to listen to another argument between John and Omega I was going to lose it.

I sighed as I remembered AI John. What the hell had possessed it to choose the most motivated personality possible was beyond me. The marines get a kick out of him, and high command adore him. The rest of us hate him. He's a dick. I was surprised when his avatar turned out not to be a penis in a uniform. Might suggest that to Omega...

No, I'm sure that there'd be consequences to that. And officers shouldn't be thinking about pulling pranks, either. But it beats just staring at the tac-map, watching enemy blips disappear. The OU was fighting back as hard as they could, but it's impossible to outmaneuver US ships when you have outdated warp tech.

"Target identified. Fi... Never mind. Sword got it," Babanin said in a sad tone.

"We'll get 'em next time, lieutenant. Keep your eyes peeled," I said encouragingly.

I reminded myself once again of the importance of our assignment. On top of the Admiral and the Fleet Leader, there are currently several other Republic officers on the Thanatos coordinating their ships with ours. They weren't exactly doing a great job, though. The US had taken about a hundred total casualties, but theirs were in the thousands.

Honestly it was a miracle they hadn't been routed yet. They had their ships in firing lines. Who does that? There isn't a single tactical benefit to it in space. On the other hand, their mobility is limited so it makes sense that they're not zooming around the battlefield. But a spherical formation would make more sense than a fucking line does.

I watched as some of the OU ships tried for a flanking maneuver. Blue ship indicators suddenly appeared behind the red ones and the red ones started to disappear. Quickly. If our ships hadn't interfered with that, it would have been disastrous for the Republic's forces.

But that's above my pay-grade too. I scratched the back of my head as it dawned on me that Tim might be right about seeking a promotion. I'd miss the Valor and its crew, but I'd been thinking more and more about things that I have no business thinking about. It's not that being a captain is boring or unfulfilling, it's just... I feel like I can do more than I'm doing now, I guess.

That fucking ridiculously cheerful robot. Even if I got the star on my collar and was reassigned, it would probably follow me. I wonder if all of the AI are obsessive. Omega is obsessed with humans, Tim is obsessed with me, John is obsessed with duty or whatever, and I don't know enough about Violet to tell one way or another.

"Target iden... Dammit, Sword got 'em again," Babanin said while slapping his knee in sarcastic frustration.

"Let them have it. We've had more than they have, it's time to share."

"Yes, sir," he replied in a mockingly deflated tone.

"How many left now, Tim?" I asked out of curiosity.

"11,247,312. We've destroyed..."

"Nope, stop that."

"Buuut siiiiiiir," Tim said, doing an impression I was unfamiliar with.

"That'll be all, Tim."

"Yes, sir. I eagerly await your next enemy casualty count request."

God, we're running through them quick. They'd started with about five times our number half an hour ago, and now we were nearly even. There really is something to be said about rapid mobility in ship to ship combat. I'm thankful that our FTLDs are back in action.

Unlike the Republic's FTLDs, ours only use a certain amount of charge per jump. The amount of charge is dependent upon many variables, including the distance between the warp points. The amount of variables makes the overall charge depletion pretty random, though. We can typically get ten jumps in system before having to hang out and recharge.

Sometimes it's nine, sometimes it's eleven. Other times it's fourteen or six. The worst part is that it sometimes changes between jumps. So if your first in-system warp took 12 percent of your charge, there was no guarantee that the next would as well. No way to tell until you try the jump.

Even the AI haven't been able to come up with an accurate predictive model. Not that it would be super helpful. It would take about as much time to check the prediction as it would to just try to jump. If you warp, you warp. If not, you need to initiate a recharge.

Part of our command training covered this little curiosity. The manual says to charge whenever you get the chance, unless you don't intend to warp. Newer captains ALWAYS kept their drives charged, until they get reprimanded for wasting reactor fuel. The fuel's not that expensive, but it adds up pretty quickly.

"Target identified, firing!" Babanin said rapidly. "HA! Target destroyed. Suck it, Sword."

"Congratulations, lieutenant. You beat them. Woo hoo," I said in a monotone.

Babanin gave me an exaggerated frown and said, "Sir, it's important to keep up a competitive spirit!"

"Yeah, sure it is," I smiled.

I thought about asking Tim for another enemy casualty count. Or rather, how many were left. But there weren't enough to bother with it. I rested my head on my hand as I watched red ships disappear faster and faster as we began to outnumber the enemy. Then, they were gone.

"And that's that," I said. "Prepare to return to the Thanatos."

"Aye aye, sir."

I sent the return request and waited for the response. Docking granted. I gave the order to return and sent a quick message to the other captains to do the same. We had successfully defended the Thanatos. And such a thrilling defense it had been. Sitting around and taking potshots at whoever gave us the opportunity.

Well, at least the next fight will be harder.