Read Online Battle Station by B. V. Larson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: B. V. Larson
Ads: Link
tapped the closest of the six planets on the screen. “That’s got to be it, Marvin. The closest one. It’s cold, but habitable. It also happens to be the original homeworld of the Centaurs. Might as well give them what they really want. We’ll have to do a set of bombing runs on each of the enemy domes, eliminating their production capacity before they can turn it against us. We’ll have to use tactical nuclear bombardment. If we hit them all from space at the same time, they should fall, overwhelmed.”
“I disagree,” Marvin said, focusing a squad of cameras on me and the display.
I glanced at him. “Talk to me.”
“We need the domes—or more specifically, we need the large factories inside.”
“What for? We can’t use them.”
“Oh yes, I believe we can.”
“How?”
“I’ve studied recordings of your prior engagements with these systems. No attempt was made to capture these large scale production systems and turn them into assets. Star Force objectives might have been met more easily if this had been done.”
I blinked at him. “What? You mean we can take them over?”
“You’ve done just that with many factories of Nano origin. The process is not that dissimilar in the case of the larger production systems.”
“But we can’t talk to them. All they ever did was blow up in our faces.”
Marvin twisted some of his tentacles and adjusted the image displayed on the screen. Stock footage of our original campaign against the Macros in South America loaded and began to play. “It was a simple matter of miscommunication,” he said. “These systems do not speak the same language as the Nano ships—but it is similar. Really, it is a more primitive version of the same binary protocol. An earlier version, if you will.”
I stared at him. “You can talk to them? You can change their programming before they blow themselves up?”
“Yes.”
“But we’d have to get you down there, into one of those domes, right?”
“Yes. The domes prevent all transmission from external sources.”
I nodded, remembering. When we’d faced these Macro factories, hiding under clam-shell-like force fields, we’d only been able to get inside with footmen. No form of energy was able to penetrate. Only direct hits from nuclear weapons could break down the force domes themselves. Once that was done, of course, the factory inside was invariably destroyed. But if we could sneak Marvin inside, he thought he could reprogram the machines and make them ours.
The thought was magical and soon consumed my mind. Whole new possibilities opened up. With even one such super-factory, I’d be able to produce huge amounts of whatever source materials I wanted—the more I thought about it, the bigger my eyes and my ideas became.
“We’re going to do it, Marvin,” I said, turning to him. I wondered if my eyes shone with yellow greed. “We’ll do it—or we’ll die trying.”
“That is a logical assumption,” he said.
-7-
Within a few days, we’d moved my force of destroyers to hover over the target, a mountainous world dotted by snow-capped peaks and winding emerald valleys. There was a Centaur satellite here—a big one. I wasn’t surprised about that, after all, this was their home planet. It made sense there would be a large population stationed nearby.
I confirmed through a number of overly-long conversations with the Centaurs that their factories were churning out heavy-weapons kits. Their lighter lasers weren’t sufficient for the task of taking out the big machines. Following our designs for the basic infantry kit, I had them producing as many as possible with their factories. I’d cut the design down from the equipment our men usually carried, but the energy output was comparable. They had a heavy pack, which I’d elongated and based on a harness system that was designed for their four-legged bodies. Each kit was equipped with a nanite-cloth helmet that was completely opaque except for the
“I disagree,” Marvin said, focusing a squad of cameras on me and the display.
I glanced at him. “Talk to me.”
“We need the domes—or more specifically, we need the large factories inside.”
“What for? We can’t use them.”
“Oh yes, I believe we can.”
“How?”
“I’ve studied recordings of your prior engagements with these systems. No attempt was made to capture these large scale production systems and turn them into assets. Star Force objectives might have been met more easily if this had been done.”
I blinked at him. “What? You mean we can take them over?”
“You’ve done just that with many factories of Nano origin. The process is not that dissimilar in the case of the larger production systems.”
“But we can’t talk to them. All they ever did was blow up in our faces.”
Marvin twisted some of his tentacles and adjusted the image displayed on the screen. Stock footage of our original campaign against the Macros in South America loaded and began to play. “It was a simple matter of miscommunication,” he said. “These systems do not speak the same language as the Nano ships—but it is similar. Really, it is a more primitive version of the same binary protocol. An earlier version, if you will.”
I stared at him. “You can talk to them? You can change their programming before they blow themselves up?”
“Yes.”
“But we’d have to get you down there, into one of those domes, right?”
“Yes. The domes prevent all transmission from external sources.”
I nodded, remembering. When we’d faced these Macro factories, hiding under clam-shell-like force fields, we’d only been able to get inside with footmen. No form of energy was able to penetrate. Only direct hits from nuclear weapons could break down the force domes themselves. Once that was done, of course, the factory inside was invariably destroyed. But if we could sneak Marvin inside, he thought he could reprogram the machines and make them ours.
The thought was magical and soon consumed my mind. Whole new possibilities opened up. With even one such super-factory, I’d be able to produce huge amounts of whatever source materials I wanted—the more I thought about it, the bigger my eyes and my ideas became.
“We’re going to do it, Marvin,” I said, turning to him. I wondered if my eyes shone with yellow greed. “We’ll do it—or we’ll die trying.”
“That is a logical assumption,” he said.
-7-
Within a few days, we’d moved my force of destroyers to hover over the target, a mountainous world dotted by snow-capped peaks and winding emerald valleys. There was a Centaur satellite here—a big one. I wasn’t surprised about that, after all, this was their home planet. It made sense there would be a large population stationed nearby.
I confirmed through a number of overly-long conversations with the Centaurs that their factories were churning out heavy-weapons kits. Their lighter lasers weren’t sufficient for the task of taking out the big machines. Following our designs for the basic infantry kit, I had them producing as many as possible with their factories. I’d cut the design down from the equipment our men usually carried, but the energy output was comparable. They had a heavy pack, which I’d elongated and based on a harness system that was designed for their four-legged bodies. Each kit was equipped with a nanite-cloth helmet that was completely opaque except for the
Similar Books
