“Do you think that SpaceCom would be upset?” the CO said, shrinking to normal size and suddenly wearing glasses. He’d also developed a stoop and was rubbing his hands together like a squirrel. “Really?”
“Did… (puff, puff) Did Spruance run at Midway?”
“No!” the CO said, swelling back to his monstrous size and placing his hand on his chest.
“Did Dewey (puff… puff) turn away from the Spanish Fleet?”
“He wasn’t outnumbered a thousand to one,” Prael said, suddenly nearly normal in appearance. “The brain-ship alone outmasses us by more than that.”
“Still,” Weaver said, puffing away and filling the compartment with smoke. “Fight the effect, Captain, but think… (Puff, puff, point stem at the CO) This station is a monumental victory (puff, puff) or an enormous defeat. Holding it could (puff) turn the tide of the war. Losing it (puff, puff… ponder) If the Dreen can learn to control stars?”
“We Cannot Defeat That Fleet!” the CO said, back in anime form.
“The Tree (puff, puff) can. Blood of my fathers and all that. Just (puff… ponder… puff) keep the boarders off if you can, would you be a dear?”
“If It! Is Falling! It Must! Be Destroyed!”
“Oh, I rather think, yes,” Weaver said, setting his pipe down. “Special munition?”
“The Largest We Have!” the CO said, nodding and holding out his hand. “The Megadestroyer Bomb! That Will Destroy A Star! We will evacuate the noncombatants. Good luck, Mr. Weaver!”
“Oh, one ‘noncombatant’ (puff, puff) will have to stay.”
“Who?!”
“Sou da ne bokura atarashii jidai wo!” Miriam shrilled, boucing in front of her keyboard. “Mukaete mitai ne kisekiteki ka mo ne!”
“Nooo!” the chimpanzee behind the drum set screamed, nonetheless banging away for all he was worth. “Not J-pop!”
“Load Mine Tubes!” the CO barked as the Blade made its way around the Tree and into the shadows. “Deploy All Mines As We Clear The Field!”
“Deploy All Mines!” the COB shouted. “Arrrrrh! We’ll blow them to smithereens so we will! We shall sail under the Black Flag and space shall be our empire, shiver me bones!”
“Not Until We Clear The Field! You Imbecile!”
“You hurts me with those words, Cap’n…”
“Put Yourself! On Report!”
“Am I still supposed to put myself on report, CO?” the COB asked.
“No, but we’re still dropping mines. Just as soon as we modify them a little.”
“It’ll be okay,” Weaver said, uncomfortably patting the linguist on the shoulder. “Seriously. Nobody will know.”
“You could hear it through the entire solar system!” Miriam screamed. “And the Blade records EVERYTHING! Oh My God. My reputation is so ruined. I’m going to have… otaku!”
“Hey, I was a chimpanzee for God’s sake,” Carpenter said. “And what are… Oh-ta-… whatever.”
“Anime fans,” Bill said darkly.
“Oh. Them.”
“She was playing J-pop!” Gants said, bouncing on the deck and waving his arms over his head like a monkey. Some people took longer to get over the effects of the field than others. “Sou da ne bokura atarashii jidai wo!”
“Jesus, man,” Red snapped. “Get ahold of yourself. You’re embarassing me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
‹Drive systems failures in Units 57,035,837 and 8,808,992. Infestation at seventeen percent in Unit 779,877. Cleaner Systems Class One through Three production initiated in all units.›
Ensure uninfected conditions in Units 125,867 and 7,507,434. Dispatch to anomaly. Escort: three Class Fourteen Space Combat Units, one Class Nine. Escorts are not to enter anomaly docking bay. Begin construction of Class One and Two cleaners, enroute. Launch fighters. Twenty percent to escort boarding parties.
With the infection of the primary ground unit construction ship, Unit 779,877 which the Blade had identified as a cruiser, the entire mission to explore the anomaly and retrieve its scientific and technical data was in jeopardy. If the infestation could be brought under control, though, in time the fleet could be completely reconstructed. Well, except for…
‹Units 57,035,837 and 8,808,992 entering retrograde orbit.›
Destroy them.
There was a pause from the secondary entity that handled communications within the massive brain-ship.
Since Dreen sentients occasionally fissioned — breaking off a lower-level sentient for colonization or to create a new brain-ship — explanations were apparently in order.
When Organism 8139 consumes all functional material in the units, the organism will break out, spilling into space. The units will be on our direct course to the anomaly. Destroy them now, maximum firepower. Ensure all units of Organism 8139 eliminated.
‹Order sent.›
“Sir, we’ve got two interesting things going on here,” the TACO said. The Blade had reached the edge of the warp-denial field and was shadowing the massive Dreen fleet, hoping against hope that Weaver and Miriam could figure out how to use the Tree to defeat it.
“Go,” Prael said, looking over at the boards. A number of ships had broken away from the Dreen fleet. Six of them seemed to be accelerating towards the Tree while the other two…
“We’ve got a Dreen task group, consisting of one cruiser, Sierra 31, two troop carriers, Sierras 38 and 42 and three destroyers, Sierras 48, 50 and 53, accelerating towards the tree. The group has been designated CruRon One.”
“We need to set up to intercept that task group,” the CO said. “Get Astro started on a course.”
“Yes, sir,” the TACO said. “Message already sent to Astro, sir. The odd thing, though, is this other task group. I’m not even sure that’s the right thing to call it. The Dreen fleet is in deceleration to match orbit with the Tree at this time. Two ships have stopped deceleration. That means that they will arrive near the Tree before the rest of the Dreen fleet.”
“Another attack group?” the CO asked.
“I don’t think so,” the TACO said. “They simply stopped deceleration. The cruisers and destroyers have enough legs they can accelerate from their current position and still decelerate later. Not much accel, but it will get them there faster. This group is just… drifting if you will, sir. And on their current course they’re on a retrograde orbit. Unless they get under power soon, they’re going to miss the Tree and slam into the star. They are, however, pulling away from the rest of the fleet.”
“Bomb ships?” the CO asked. “A suicide run? Can the Dreen get the star to go nova or something?”
“Possible, sir,” the TACO replied. “But then why not accelerate? I think they’re just… broken, sir. Looks like drive system failure to me.”
“Well, let’s hope so,” the CO said.
“Whoa,” the sensor tech said. “The Dreen are firing.”
“On what?” the TACO said. “We’re not in range.”