EMPIRE: Warlord (EMPIRE SERIES Book 5)
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“Really, Ma’am? With our advantage in ships?”
“Yes, Admiral. I may out-mass a honey badger, but I wouldn’t want to fight barehanded against one that was defending its nest, its babies.”
“I see, Ma’am. I understand.”
Dunham was meeting with his military commanders, Imperial Admiral Howard Leicester and Imperial Generals Martin Kraus and Brian Daggert of the Imperial Marines and Imperial Guard. In attendance were Consul Geoffrey Saaret and Amanda Peters, the Empress.
“I have intelligence eighteen of the independent star nations have voted to go to war with Sintar, gentlemen.”
“We’ve heard nothing, Sire,” Leicester said.
“Nonetheless, Admiral Leicester. It is from a most credible source.”
“Eighteen, Your Majesty?” Kraus asked.
“The Kingdom of Estvia stood aside, General Kraus.”
“I see, Sire.”
“Estvia? They neighbor Pannia, Berinia, Celestia, and Annalia, is that right?” Daggert asked.
“And us. That’s right, General,” Leicester said. “They’ve likely been paying attention to what happened in Pannia.”
“The Battle of Castaway will deserve no more than a footnote when this war is over, gentlemen,” Dunham said. “I need to inquire as to our prospects. This will be primarily a naval war, I believe. Your assessment, Admiral Leicester?”
“Yes, Sire. We believe the independent star nations possessed six to seven million homegrown warships prior to their purchasing modern warships from the DP. Estimates of how many of those they have purchased vary, but the range is from three to four million. They thus outnumber us in warships, even with our recent buildup. Additionally, our carriers will be of little use in a full-up naval war.”
“That’s not historically supported, Admiral Leicester.”
“That’s because the analogy between space navies and historical wet navies on Earth breaks down, Sire. Our carriers sortie Marine attack ships, which are designed to support ground forces, not attack capital ships. The better analogy to carrier-based airplanes is our picket ships, although the analogy to the later cruise missiles is even more on point.”
“I see, Admiral Leicester. Continue.”
“Yes, Sire. The disadvantage in hulls is aggravated by our ability to crew only about three million of our seven million warships at any one time. The unmanned warships use only half the crew of a manned ship, but we only had one and a half million manned warships before the current buildup began.
“The countervailing consideration in number of hulls is the role of the picket ships. Their attack capability has given us something like parity, especially if we can use them in the way most suited to them – massed, surprise attacks against ships that do not have a coordinated defense in place.”
“They were effective in the most recent incident in Garland, Admiral Leicester.”
“Yes, Sire. But at a numerical advantage of over six to one. We have analyzed the sensor recordings most carefully. It is clear the Garland ships were aware the nose cones of the picket ships are immune to laser point-defense fire. Their coordinated defense only attacked ships on which they could get the angle for a hull shot.”
“I see, Admiral Leicester. So for the initial major hostilities, we will likely need to use, and expose, the ECM systems on the picket ships.”
“Yes, Sire. We do not need to expose the ECM capabilities of missile salvos yet, and the existence of one does not necessarily imply the existence of the other, so we may keep that hidden for a time.”
“Very well, Admiral Leicester. Another question then. Have we implemented the total-fission weapon if it becomes called for?”
“Yes, Sire. We have a few dozen freighters with containers of depleted uranium available for deployment as required.”
“What about smaller versions, Admiral Leicester?”
“Don’t forget the picket ships, Sire. Every picket ship has a depleted uranium nose cone. Picket ships mass under a hundred tons, but the nose cones mass over five tons apiece.”
“You’re telling me every one of our picket ships is a total-fission weapon, Admiral Leicester?”
“Yes, Sire. With a yield on target of one hundred fifty megatons. I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I thought you had been kept apprised on this project.”
“No, Admiral Leicester. Well, I did say I wanted it kept very secret. Still, that’s amazing. I guess I could have figured that out for myself.”
“I understand it was quite a stunning revelation to the team as well, Sire. They were trying to figure out how to deploy such devices, perhaps using picket ships, and someone said, ‘Wait. Don’t picket ships already have five tons of depleted uranium on board?’”
“Well, that’s an amount of firepower I hadn’t considered, Admiral Leicester.”
“Yes, Sire. At the same time, it is something of an all-out weapon. And the legality of its use against planetary targets is an open question.”
“Understood, Admiral Leicester. I think, however, there could be ways of using it against shipyards and space stations. If you down-transitioned a picket ship within a hundred miles of the surface, but its velocity was pointed tangent to the planet’s surface, out into space, wouldn’t its energy be directed along that axis?”
“Yes, Sire. That is in our plans.”
“Excellent, Admiral Leicester. Very well.”
Dunham consulted his notes in the bottom half of his vision in VR.
“Back to the question of the disparity in ships, Admiral Leicester. What are your plans for addressing that?”
“The best way would be to catch them before they’re really ready for us, Sire. We’ve worked up a couple of scenarios on that. The best way is to catch them mustering their fleets, and then just flood them with picket ships. Whether we can do that or not after they declare war is an open question.”
“After they declare war, Admiral Leicester?”
“Yes, Sire. My assumption is they won’t declare war until they are actually prepared to meet us in battle, perhaps just prior to their attack. Catching them mustering their fleets may not be possible.”
“I have no intention of waiting for them to declare war, Admiral Leicester. I know they have voted for war. If we see them mustering their fleets for war, we will attack them, declaration of war or no.”
“Isn’t that sort of against the rules, Your Majesty?”
“This isn’t a boxing match where both parties have agreed to fight, Admiral Leicester. It is a one-sided attack on a peaceful polity. The Marquis of Queensbury rules do not apply. The only rule is to win.”
“I see, Sire.”
“You should make your plans and deploy your forces to take maximum advantage, Admiral Leicester. When we see them mustering, we will attack at a moment of our choosing, at the moment of maximum effect. Let’s see if we can’t catch them napping and destroy that advantage in numbers before they even kick off.”
“Very well, Sire.”
“You’ll only get one bite at that apple, Admiral Leicester, so make it a good one.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Late that evening, Admiral Leicester dropped into the VR hyperspace map of Project Far Sight. The officer of the watch signaled Rear Admiral Dorothy Conroy, the commanding officer of Project Far Sight. She lived on Imperial Fleet Base Pannia, where it was just after six in the morning. She was already up and about, and dropped right into VR. The good thing about VR was her avatar was always in uniform ready to go, even though she was seated at her kitchen table in housecoat and slippers.
She checked the time in Imperial City.
“Good evening, Admiral Leicester.”
Leicester turned to look at her, turned back to the map.
“Good evening, Admiral.”
The hyperspace map sprawled out in front of him. All of human space, nearly five hundred thousand inhabited planets, with over a quadrillion human beings. The green and yellow tracings of military fleet movements in hyperspace, te
ns of thousands of them, glinted like a shower of knitting needles caught in mid-fall. There the green-tinted volume of the Sintaran Empire, there the orange-tinted volume of the Democracy of Planets. And another nineteen smaller tinted volumes, their adversaries in the coming war.
“Can I help you, Sir?”
“They are going to do it, Admiral. They are actually going to do it. Tear all this down. Plunge humanity into major warfare, yet again.”
Leicester shook his head, then turned to her.
“This is your final war warning, Admiral. All the independent star nations other than Estvia have voted to go to war against Sintar. You are to monitor their fleet movements looking for their war preparations. Looking for their mustering points. At the most propitious time, when we can catch the greatest number of their ships by surprise, we will attack them at their mustering points.”
“Without a declaration of war, Sir?”
“Yes. They have the advantage on us. When you are out-massed, Admiral, you don’t wait for the aggressor to throw the first punch. When he advances on you – when he presents a clear threat – you take him down if you can. Fighting fair is for idiots.”
“I see, Sir.”
“When they start mustering, that will confirm our intelligence. We need to pick that one best moment, when we can do the maximum damage with our attack, and hit them while they think the game clock isn’t yet running. Catch them flat-footed. I expect you to make that call, Admiral.”
“Me, Sir?”
“Yes, Admiral. You know this map like the back of your hand. By this time you can probably feel it. We don’t need to waste time having you explain to me why it is the proper moment. Make the call.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Consider our own flight times as well, Admiral. Have our forces come out of hyperspace simultaneously, across a broad front, and hit as many as we can before they think hostilities are under way. We can field four million picket ships in a single wave if that’s what we need to do. You’ll see in advance where their mustering points are, can tell my tactical group where we need forces, and in what proportion. How many ships are headed to each point. All that sort of thing. We’re already forward deployed, but fine tuning as we go forward, as the time approaches, will be helpful.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And then, Admiral, name the moment – Time Zero – far enough in advance our ships can all get to their Time Zero attack points simultaneously enough that, even with QE radios and instantaneous notice of the attacks, nobody can get organized quickly enough to repel that wave of picket ships, even though they know they’re coming.”
“Very well, Sir.”
Leicester looked back to the map.
“If we can negate or reverse their numerical advantage in the opening stages, maybe we can minimize the damage.”
He stood for several more seconds studying the map and shook his head.
“Damn fools,” he muttered, and then he was gone.
“I don’t get it, Chief,” Petty Officer First Class Anton Kowalski said. “We got a week’s unscheduled leave? What the hell does that mean?”
“It means go and have a damn good time, Kowalski, because shit’s about to get real,” Chief Petty Officer James Fordham said.
Fordham didn’t tell Kowalski the senior chief on the HMS Raptor, Senior Chief Robert ‘Fitz’ Fitzhugh, had told him to check the ship’s Imperial Navy battle ensigns and honor ribbons. They didn’t fly them from any mast or flagpole, but they would hang in place of the Sintar flag in the enlisted messes if the ship spaced for war.
War Councils
Queen Anne, as chairman of the council of independent star nations, which still did not have a formal name, sent out the invitations to the defense ministers and operational heads of the navies for the meeting of the war council. All of them showed up at the appointed time, in a meeting room in VR. This meeting room was similar to the one the rulers had used, with tiered seating facing a speaker’s well, but without the fancy chairs that had been part of the program for the rulers.
Darrell Dunning took the speaker’s well.
“As defense minister for the chairman of the council, I call this meeting to order.”
People quieted down, and those standing took their seats.
“Our first order of business is to elect a chairman. The floor is open for nominations.”
“Wait. What are we calling this group?” Genevieve Dumas, Defense Minister for Terre Autre, asked.
“That’s a good question, I suppose. Any suggestions?” Dunning asked.
“Keep it simple. Alliance War Council,” Matt Preston, defense minister from Abelard, said.
“Seconded,” Mark Connors, defense minister of Wingard, said.
“We have a motion and second for Alliance War Council,” Dunning said. “We’re voting. Hands, please. Ayes? Nays? The Ayes have it. We are the Alliance War Council.”
‘Alliance War Council’ appeared as the title on the display behind Dunning, and there was a smattering of applause.
And so the Alliance got its name.
“Back to the original question, nominations for chairman. The floor is open for nominations.”
“I think you’re doing a fine job, Darrell. I nominate Mr. Dunning as permanent chair,” John Cox, defense minister from the Rim said.
“Seconded,” Connors said.
“I would prefer someone more aggressive. I nominate Mortimer Hollifield,” Daniel Chandler, defense minister for Berinia, said.
“Seconded,” Patrick Ansen, defense minister for Annalia, said.
“Any more nominations?” Dunning asked.
With no more nominations, Dunning called the vote. It was a clear choice. Hollifield was the defense minister for Garland, King James’s defense minister. But these were, by and large serious people, who made life-and-death decisions daily. There were only a few loose cannons among the thirty-six of them, and Hollifield was one of them.
“OK, we’re voting. Someone else take the count, as I’m a candidate. Hands, please. Dunning? Hollifield?”
“It’s Dunning,” Preston said.
“All right. Thank you, everyone, for your confidence. What is our first order of business in prosecuting this war?”
“Our strategic plan, I would think,” Marian Blood, defense minister of Midlothia, said. “Mustering our forces, our initial attacks, our defensive postures at home.”
“Let’s start with those,” Dunning said, and ‘Strategic Plan’ appeared on the display, with the three sub-categories.
“As far as mustering, we need to do it far enough from the Sintaran border they don’t see us,” Chandler said. “Berinia has some experience there. Experience we’d rather not repeat.”
“I think we need a statement of goals before we even talk about the rest of this,” Cox said. “What do we hope to gain from this war? If we can’t state that, I don’t see how we can decide the rest.”
‘Goals’ appeared on the display above strategy.
“A good point. Can someone state our goals simply?”
“Defeat Sintar,” Ansen said.
“Perhaps a bit less simply,” Dunning said.
“Force Sintar to accept the requests the Alliance Leadership Council presented to them,” Cox said.
“More than just that!” Hollifield called out.
And the debate was on.
The Sintaran Empire’s Imperial Navy, under the unitary command of its Emperor, was much further along. Imperial Admiral Howard Leicester was also in a meeting, with his strategy and tactics group.
“Our goals in this war are simple, ladies and gentlemen. To protect the citizens of the Empire, to protect the Throne, and to render the Alliance of independent star nations unable to credibly threaten the Empire in the future.
“Now, we have always maintained forces sufficient to prevail against any independent star nation or alliance of several of them. Fighting an alliance of all of them is a pretty big lift, even with our recent bu
ildup. Our strategy in the first stages of the war, then, is to take steps to neutralize or reverse the advantage in hulls they have against us.
“Some of that advantage is on paper, because the warships the Alliance had were a mixed bag. It’s the three to four million new warships they bought from the Democracy of Planets that are the bigger threat. We more than match those in numbers.
“The wildcard here is the picket ships. We have eight million of them, at least half of which we would be able to field in our opening sorties. If those four million each take out an Alliance ship, we may be able to gut the core of the DP warships they’ve purchased.
“They’re also working with a lot of green crewmen. They have had to crew their buildup, where we have not. The countervailing fact is we can’t crew all our ships at once, but careful timing can likely work around that.
“We know they have voted for war. We know they will declare war on us once they are ready. We do not intend to wait for that declaration. This is not an agreed-to boxing match, with rules and the like. This is the attack of a criminal on an innocent, and, once the threat of death or grievous injury is credible, that innocent has the right to defend himself with deadly force without regard to artificial rules of conduct.
“Sintar is the innocent here. We will not wait for them to throw the first punch. We are outmassed, and we will strike first, before they are ready. We will know their mustering points and their disposition of forces prior to these engagements.
“Any questions?”
“Sir, how credible is our intelligence?” Fleet Admiral Stepan Cernik asked.
“The intelligence they have voted for war, Admiral, or the intelligence with regard to their mustering points and disposition of forces?”
“Well, both, Sir.”
“With regard to them having voted for war, I personally consider that intelligence to be ninety percent. I can imagine scenarios in which the sources and methods behind that intelligence are wrong, but not many. More likely is they may step back from that vote before hostilities actually begin.