A Charter for the Commonwealth

by Richard F. Weyand

  “Relief efforts, obviously. Assuming they got out, we have fifteen million people living off the land.”

  “Well, not quite. They apparently didn’t bomb the farms. That would be hard to do anyway. So there’s plenty of beef and chicken, and lots of fruits and vegetables. With that climate, they have three growing seasons. And the cities are all located near fresh water. Probably the biggest things they need are trucks and fuel, to make sure they can move all the food to where it needs to be. Next priority is all the infrastructure items to get back up and going again. Construction equipment, generators, hospital equipment. All that sort of thing.”

  “How do you rebuild a whole city?”

  Orlov shrugged.

  “One brick at a time, the same way you built it the first time.”

  Westlake took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “What do you think the ESN is going to do now? Are they going to hit any other planets we can’t defend?” Westlake asked.

  “I don’t think so. Doma is where the charter was signed, and so it stuck out. And Jablonka is where you are so it sticks out. No other planet really stands out enough from the rest to be a target. And any other planet Andrews hits, the family with the charter on that planet will turn against him, hard.”

  “So you think they’re coming here.”

  “Yes,” Orlov said. “It’s either that or go back to Earth. But their plan was to have you gone, so Jablonka would have been leaderless on the short term, making it an easier target. So I think they’re coming here. I hope they’re coming here, because we’re ready for them.”

  “Mann’s report said they had seventy-some frigates and ten bigger ships, and another dozen frigates arrived in ones and twos before they left the system.”

  “That’s fine. Most of those bigger ships are going to be freighters, smaller freighters that can keep up with Bruneau’s combat elements. If they knew they were going to destroy Doma’s infrastructure, they knew they couldn’t restock and refuel, so they had to bring all that with them. They may have a couple of larger combat units, old stuff they pulled out of mothballs.”

  “And you’re not worried we can handle them if they attack us here?” Westlake asked.

  “No. At least, Admiral Sigurdsen isn’t.”

  “But the ESN is likely to get here while Sigurdsen is still on Earth. Is Admiral Holcomb going to be able to handle them?”

  “Sigurdsen has complete confidence in Admiral Holcomb,” Orlov said. “Brian is another former ESN admiral – rear admiral, I think – and he was Sigurdsen’s chief of staff back in the day. When he retired from the ESN, he followed Sigurdsen here. So we’re in good shape if and when the ESN shows up here.”

  “All right. I guess I better get relief efforts organized for Doma. Trucks and fuel, you said?”

  “And then hospital equipment, and then construction supplies. Oh, and probably a couple thousand military-type mess tent setups, with all the cooking appliances and such. That’s before the hospital equipment, so you can feed everybody.”

  “Got it. I’ll have to see what we can put together. You have some freighters I can use?”

  “We have those extra ten we bought and didn’t convert. I’m not sending any of them to Earth until this is all straightened out. They look just like our battleships. And they’ll take two thousand containers apiece, easy. Three thousand in a pinch.”

  “Good. We’re going to need them. And soon. It’s two months for them to get to Doma, even if we run them flat out. We need to get things started heading in their direction as soon as we can.”

  “Sir, we’ve done some experimentation with the system periphery. We basically took some older freighters, hooked them up with automated controls, and then ran them into hyperspace unmanned. They were programmed to transition back out of hyperspace after a delay, and we ran them further and further into the system periphery. We measured stresses on the hull, and we kept increasing the distance until they broke up. So we think we know what we can get away with. If we run one of the battleships in partway, and measure the stresses, we can compare that to the curve we have and figure out the maximum we’re willing to press it,” Captain Steven Taylor said.

  “If we can hyperspace transition closer in, why is the published system periphery where it is?” Admiral Brian Holcomb asked.

  “The problem is the system periphery isn’t constant, Sir. It changes over time, and no one knows why. But it changes slowly, over a period of years. What we’re talking about is where the system periphery is right now, and for the next few months.”

  “How much closer are we talking about?”

  “About twenty percent. Maybe twenty-five.”

  “Excellent. I was afraid it wouldn’t be enough to make a difference. That will definitely make a difference. What’s the next step?”

  “We need to have one of the battleships do a test run, Sir. Maybe ten percent less at first. To get some hull stress data,” Taylor said.

  “Ask the captains for volunteers. See who you get.”

  “Captain Benjamin Olsen of the Intrepid heard about what we were doing. He already volunteered, Sir.”

  “All right. Darryl, cut orders detaching Intrepid for the experiments, please.”

  “Yes, Sir,” said Captain Darryl Hadfield, Holcomb’s chief of staff.

  Admiral Holcomb, Captain Hadfield, and Captain Katelyn Walker were giving a videoconference briefing to the captains of the four divisions of Commonwealth battleships tasked with protecting Jablonka.

  “Good morning, Captains,” Admiral Holcomb said. “We expect the ESN fleet to be here in the next two to three weeks. You’ve all heard what this particular fleet did to Doma, and we want to give them the proper reward for a war crime of that magnitude. We have a plan, and I think it’s a good one. Captain Walker is a particularly devious person, and she’s proved it yet again with this plan. With that introduction, I’ll let her go ahead and brief you up on it. Go ahead, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Sir. This plan depends on the fact the Earth fleet has to make transition at or outside the published system periphery. That will likely be either due north or due south of Jablonka, as the point of closest approach of the system periphery to the planet. Anything else increases their spacing time to Jablonka, and Earth’s rather rudimentary doctrine is to make their hyperspace transition at that point. I suspect that is because the ESN has never faced a real space-based military threat before.

  “Admiral Bruneau also tends to be pretty doctrinaire in his approach to problems, which gives us more reason to anticipate a hyperspace transition at zero mark ninety or zero minus ninety at the published system periphery. That was also his approach in Doma, where he made transition at zero mark ninety on Doma-5c, their initial target.

  “Our Plan Alpha assumes their transition at one of those two points, probably at zero minus ninety because that is closer to the line between the Jablonka and Doma systems. We also have several contingency plans in case they make their hyperspace transition somewhere else.

  “Basically, they have to make their hyperspace transition somewhere. Thanks to Captain Olsen and the Intrepid, however, we know we can currently make hyperspace transitions twenty-five percent closer to Jablonka than the published system periphery, and they don’t know that. Which means, for an entire day, they will be trapped in our hyperspace volume.

  “And, thanks to a couple of radio operators who didn’t know any better, we can now communicate in hyperspace, and they can’t.

  “Okay. That’s the background. Now let’s look at the details....”

  “How’d the briefing go, Sir?” asked Commander Brian Livingston, executive officer of the Intrepid.

  “Well, I hate to sound overconfident, Brian, but this looks like it’s going to be shooting fish in a barrel,” Captain Benjamin Olsen said.

  The ESN Home Fleet

  When Admiral Jarl Sigurdsen’s ships reached Earth, they held in hyperspace, taking positions three-quarter light-seconds out fr
om the normal hyperspace transition points on the system periphery above and below the planet. Dropping out of hyperspace into a hostile system without first looking to see what was going on was not in Sigurdsen’s plans.

  “All divisions report in position, Sir,” Lieutenant Commander Nancy Ganka said. “Independence and Challenge divisions reporting at zero minus ninety, system periphery plus three-quarter light-seconds, and Charter and Triumph divisions reporting at zero mark ninety, system periphery plus three-quarter light seconds.”

  “Are the Star Maiden and Star Princess in position as well?” Sigurdsen asked.

  “Yes, Sir. They are reporting system periphery plus ten percent, at zero minus ninety and zero plus ninety respectively.”

  “All right, Ms. Ganka. Option Peekaboo. Send the order.”

  “Transmitting, Sir.”

  Star Maiden sat outside the normal transition point, waiting for orders. She and Star Princess were unconverted freighters, carrying three thousand containers of extra provisions for the fleet. But what they also were was an extra set of eyes and ears.

  “Orders, Sir,” Lieutenant Hans Starmans said. “Option Peekaboo.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Starmans,” Captain Jack Batchelder said. “Hyperspace transition when ready, Ms. Whalen.”

  “Yes, Sir. Hyperspace transition now,” Lieutenant Patricia Whalen said.

  “Stand by on sensors, Ms. Schulte.”

  “I’m recording, Sir,” Ensign Barbara Schulte said.

  “Hyperspace transition complete,” Whalen said.

  “Twenty ESN frigates sitting on zero minus ninety on the planet, Sir. System periphery plus one-quarter light-second. I have clean scan,” Schulte said.

  “Hyperspace transition, Ms. Whalen. Take us out of here.”

  “Hyperspace transition now.”

  “Hyperspace transition complete.”

  “Transmit Ms. Schulte’s scans, Mr. Starmans.”

  “Transmitting, Sir.”

  On the north side of the system, Star Princess had done the same.

  “Sir, Star Maiden and Star Princess both report a detachment of twenty Earth frigates watching the standard hyperspace transition points at zero mark ninety and zero minus ninety, above and below the planet. Those frigates are at the system periphery plus one-quarter light-second, pointing through the transition point toward Earth,” Ganka said.

  “Somebody’s idea of a mousetrap,” Sigurdsen said. “That’s why you go look-see first before you go blundering in.”

  “Yes, Sir. Kind of stupid if you ask me,” Kirby said.

  “The ESN isn’t used to fighting a real navy. We’ve got to be careful, though. People learn fast when they’re getting shot at. Ms. Ganka, transmit orders to Independence and Charter divisions. Option Flasher.”

  The twenty ESN frigates had seen a large freighter transition well behind them, and then transition back out, but couldn’t make heads or tails of its actions.

  “Maybe they botched the navigation on their transition, and figured they would take another shot rather than spend an extra couple days getting to Earth,” one captain mused to another.

  “We have scans from Star Maiden, Sir,” Ensign James Oconnel said aboard Independence. “Transferring to gunnery console.”

  “Mr. Scott?” Captain Marc Heller prompted.

  “I have the scans, Sir. Twenty ESN frigates maintaining station at zero minus ninety plus one-quarter light-second. They are in our range from here,” Lieutenant Shell Scott said.

  “Mr. Asnip?”

  “Rotating ship to firing position, Sir. Standing by for hyperspace transition.”

  “Independence division ready for transition, Sir. Reported to the Flag. Challenge division has also reported ready,” Oconnell said.

  “Let’s wait and see what the Admiral wants to do,” Heller said.

  “We have orders from the Flag, Sir. Independence division, Option Flasher.”

  “All right. Orders to Independence division, Mr. Oconnell: Option Flasher, Firing Plan Alpha, guns free, fire at will.”

  “Transmitted, Sir.”

  “Orders to Independence division: Transition on the mark. Count it down, Mr. Oconnel.”

  “Hyperspace transition in four, three, two, one, now.”

  “Hyperspace transition now,” Asnip said.

  “Targeting. Focusing. Firing eight. Firing eight. Firing eight,” Scott said.

  “Targets destroyed,” Lieutenant Karl Stodden reported from the sensor console.

  “Call it out, Mr. Oconnell.”

  “Hyperspace transition in four, three, two, one, now.”

  “Hyperspace transition now,” Asnip said. “Hyperspace transition complete.”

  “All units report hyperspace transition complete, Sir.”

  “Well, that was nicely done, everyone,” Heller said. “Mr. Oconnel, report to the Flag.”

  “Independence and Charter both report all twenty ESN frigates on station destroyed, Sir,” Ganka said.

  “All right. Let’s post some eyes and ears and see what they do about it. Option Watchtower, Ms. Ganka. Send the order.”

  “Transmitting Option Watchtower, Sir.”

  “Orders, Sir,” Starmans said. “Option Watchtower.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Starmans,” Captain Batchelder said. “Hyperspace transition when ready, Ms. Whalen.”

  “Yes, Sir. Hyperspace transition now,” Whalen said. “Hyperspace transition complete.”

  “Maintain watch on sensors, Ms. Schulte.”

  “Maintaining watch on sensors, Sir. Whole lotta nothin’ out there at the moment.”

  “What do you think they’ll do, Sir,” asked Captain Morgen Kirby, Sigurdsen’s chief of staff.

  “I’m not sure, Morgen. They’ll probably come out after us. That would be normal doctrine. We can’t be sure who’s really in charge here right now. Admiral Bruneau might be here, or he might be away. At Jablonka, for instance. And we can’t be sure how much the navy is calling the shots and how much the civilian leadership is calling the shots. That’s always been a problem for the ESN.”

  “What if they don’t come out after us, Sir?”

  “Then we’ll have to go in after them. We can’t earn our bacon sitting out here.”

  “Did the amount of activity in the system look normal to you, Sir?” Kirby asked.

  “From the little look we got? Hard to tell. It was certainly not usual to have twenty frigates watching the standard transition point. There are a few freighters and passenger liners in transit to the hyperspace transition points on the system periphery. That looked normal. As for traffic around the planet itself, there’s a lot of clutter there. It’s hard to tell much from way out here.”

  “Shit!” ESN Vice Admiral Courtney Ballard said. “So much for Mr. Andrews’ ‘great idea.’ Did he really think Jarl fucking Sigurdsen was going to transition in here all fat, dumb, and happy?”

  “What was going on with the freighters that transitioned in, then transitioned out?” ESN Rear Admiral Robert Amsler asked.

  “When it happens both above and below the system in exactly the same way, at exactly the same time, that is not a coincidence. I think they transitioned that far out so they could safely see what was going on at the transition point and then go into hyperspace and tell the battleships what they saw. Which means they’ve figured out some way for their ships to communicate in hyperspace. Which means we are seriously screwed if we go out there after them. Which Andrews will probably order anyway.

  “Civilian control of the military is all well and good as long as they let us do our goddamn job. There went a full third of what forces I had left after Bruneau took half the fleet with him. Now I have to defend this system with eighty ships.”

  “That’s still a ten-to-one advantage in ships, though,” Amsler said.

  “You think so? Why would you think Jarl Sigurdsen would show all his forces if he didn’t need to? Best guess is he has double that strength. Now you’re looking at five-to-one odd
s. We jumped just one of those damned battleships four months back with nine frigates, and even caught by surprise it killed them all like it was swatting flies. Worse. Swatting a fly usually takes two tries.

  “But Andrews has some cockamamie idea those battleships are nothing more than Q-ships crewed by amateurs. I guess you could call them Q-ships if you want, but Sigurdsen’s been retired over ten years. We have no way of knowing how long he’s been training his people, but I know damn well he didn’t space with green crews.”

  ESN Captain Doug Harrell walked into the Command Center from Communications.

  “Orders from higher, Ma’am.” Harrell said, and handed her a printout.

  “What’d I tell you? ‘You are to gather your forces and engage the enemy.’ Shit.”

  “Sir, we have a group of ships leaving orbit and heading this way,” Schulte said.

  “How many ships? Can you tell at this distance, Ms. Schulte?” Captain Batchelder said.

  “Looks like seventy or eighty, Sir.”

  “Are any ships heading north?”

  “No, Sir. Everything is headed zero minus ninety from the planet. I guess if there were some headed out zero plus ninety, I might not be able to see them.”

  “Understood. Let’s transition and report. Whenever you’re ready, Ms. Whalen.”

  “They’re coming out to meet us. This has to be some civilian’s idea,” Sigurdsen said.

  “Looks like just the southern approach, Sir,” Kirby said.

  “He doesn’t want to divide his forces, Morgen. That’s smart. For being such a stupid move overall, that is.”

  “What do you want to do, Sir? They’ll be four more days getting out here.”

  “Let’s order Star Maiden back to her watch position, and have her report in every twenty-four hours or whenever something changes significantly. Jack Batchelder is smart enough to be able to run with those orders.”