The Shadow of Cincinnatus

by Nuttall, Christopher

  And if he had, we would have attacked somewhere else, Charlie thought, ruefully. The long-range sensors on the probes hadn’t located the Federation’s Fifth Fleet, but Charlie hadn’t expected anything else. Perhaps through Point Gamma...

  “General,” Lieutenant Juneau said. “The Marsha are requesting permission to advance.”

  Charlie hesitated. One way or another, despite the absence of several Federation Navy battle squadrons, they were about to make a leap into the unknown. The entire war could be determined by who won or lost the Battle of Boston. He couldn’t wait to tear into the enemy, but at the same time his caution warned him to be careful. The Outsiders couldn’t afford a victory that left most of their fleet shattered and broken...

  But leaving Boston alone was the first step to accepting eventual, inevitable defeat.

  “Order the assault drones to commence the first advance,” he ordered. “And prep the communications drones for transit. They are to signal as soon as they pass into Boston.”

  “Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Juneau said. “And the Marsha?”

  “They are to move once the drones are through,” Charlie said. If they wanted to get stuck into the enemy, he wouldn’t stop them. Besides, it might teach them that the most important thing on the battlefield was not honor, but victory. “And then ready the first assault formations to proceed.”

  * * *

  Roman jerked awake as the alarm sounded. “Report,” he snapped. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. “What’s happening?”

  “We have probes being reported at Points Delta, Echo and Foxtrot,” Lieutenant Thompson reported. “All three Asimov Points are being probed, but no actual warships or assault drones yet.”

  Roman splashed water on his face, hastily. All three Asimov Points were being probed? It was odd, to say the least. Coordinating it would be a bitch, even assuming the Outsiders had managed to round up enough StarComs to copy Admiral Justinian’s favorite trick. Unless they had found a new way to send signals at FTL speeds...if they had, the war was within shouting distance of being lost. They’d have a colossal advantage in flexibility while the Federation had to struggle to coordinate its forces across multiple light years...

  He shook his head. Everything they’d seen – and everything they’d picked up from intelligence operatives – suggested the Outsiders had the same problems as the Federation, not a mythical FTL communications system. There was no need to panic. They’d probably timed the probes...unless, of course, they planned to repeat the assault on Sapphire. But that would be suicide...

  Unless they have far more ships than we think, he told himself. It didn’t seem likely. If the Outsiders had enjoyed such towering supremacy, they would have taken Boston in their first push into Federation territory, cutting Roman off at the knees. No, only one of those assaults is real. But which one?

  He grabbed his jacket, then ran up to the CIC. This time, at least, he had real-time data from each of the Asimov Points, but the enemy probes seemed to have stopped. It puzzled him for a long moment – the enemy knew they had to move fast, if they hoped to catch the Federation on the hop – and then he dismissed the thought. There was no point in wondering just what the enemy was doing...

  Maybe they decided the fortresses were too hard a target, he thought. It was reasonable; no matter what technical advantages the attacker had, charging through an Asimov Point was always a meatgrinder. Admiral Justinian had certainly found out as much, during the Battle of Boskone, and the Outsiders had learned from that war.

  But there was a nastier possibility. Or maybe they’re looking for us...

  He looked over at Lieutenant Thompson. “Is the fleet ready to depart?”

  “Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Thompson said. “The 45th Cruiser Squadron is experiencing delays, but her CO estimates that she will be ready to depart in ten minutes.”

  Roman nodded. “Hold the fleet here,” he ordered. The moment the real assault began, he would take the fleet towards the Asimov Point, but until then he couldn’t move. There was a very real danger of being caught out of position. “Anything on the planet’s surface?”

  “Not yet, sir,” Lieutenant Thompson reported.

  “Good,” Roman said. He reached for his headset, then placed it over his ears. This was a private call. “Elf?”

  “Roman,” Elf said. She sounded tired and irked, although it wouldn’t have been clear to anyone who didn’t know her very well. “There’s no sign of trouble yet. I’ve deployed platoons of Marines to reinforce General Yaakov, though. There’s no way of knowing what the local insurgents will do when the attack begins in earnest.”

  “They’ll do their best to take the defenses down,” Roman predicted. They’d done everything they could to secure the planet-side facilities, but there were too many weak points for his peace of mind. “Inform the crews that I want the orbital fortresses put into lockdown, right now. We cannot afford to take chances.”

  “Understood,” Elf said. “Roman...don’t worry about it. Right now, the enemy is coming to you, as you planned.”

  “Thank you,” Roman said. She was the only person he’d confessed his doubts to, when the plan had first been drawn up. “And good luck yourself.”

  “Thank you,” Elf said. “You have a good plan. Now all you have to do is keep it alive in the face of the enemy.”

  She broke the connection. Roman returned the headset to its compartment, then forced himself to think rationally. The enemy was doing...what? They’d probed three Asimov Points and then stopped. If nothing else, it had wasted a few thousand drones. Maybe they could afford the losses – or thought they could – or maybe they had something else in mind? But what?

  * * *

  Tanya could feel the tension rising on her command deck as the seconds ticked away, with no sign of an enemy attack. The crew were starting to question themselves, wondering if the enemy was just waiting for them to relax or if they had merely intended to force the fortresses to battlestations without any actual plan to attack the system. Both were equally bad, Tanya knew; the former would have her crew on edge, while the latter would force them to lower their guard. But there was nothing she could do without making the problem worse.

  “Automated Platform Series Alpha through Gamma are reporting ready,” Midshipman Quick reported. “They’re on full alert.”

  “Platforms Golf through Mike are reporting ready,” Midshipwoman Jones added. “They’re on full alert.”

  “Excellent,” Tanya said. How had her crew become so young? Or how had she become so old? She’d barely seen anything of the Justinian War, apart from the first assault on Earth. But she’d been on the Gateway and only seen the battle from a distance. It galled her to realize that some of her crew had more experience than she. “Keep the platforms ready to engage the enemy.”

  She sighed, inwardly, as the seconds kept moving onwards. What was the delay? Logically, the enemy should have attacked with minimum preparation and reconnaissance, perhaps even none. This way, they were just giving her time – far more than she needed – to bring her fortresses to battlestations. She knew better than to believe it, but it was really terrifyingly easy to start wondering if the enemy merely wanted to annoy them. If so, they were succeeding nicely.

  “The CSP is reporting overstretch,” Lieutenant Janelle said. She sounded peeved, much to Tanya’s irritation. If she’d wanted excitement, she should have gone into command track and aimed at starship command. “The CAG is requesting permission to withdraw them to their bases, then launch a replacement flight.”

  “Launch the replacement flight first,” Tanya ordered. The enemy had to know she wouldn’t panic, didn’t they? There were few surprises in assaulting an Asimov Point. It was definitely starting to look as though the real objective had been to force her to alert her crew, then waste time and resources responding to a non-existent threat. “And then bring back the CSP...”

  “Incoming,” Midshipman Quigley snapped, as red icons flared into existe
nce. “I have multiple drones transiting the Asimov Point! Tactical computers assess them as assault drones; I say again, tactical computers assess them as assault drones.”

  “Launch starfighters,” Tanya snapped. This was no mere probe, then. A hundred assault drones had interpenetrated and vanished in flashes of radiation, but there were hundreds more, just getting their bearings before they attacked. “All batteries, commence firing!”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The main advantage gained by the defender during an Asimov Point assault is that he knows where the enemy must appear. But the attacker’s advantage is that he gets to choose the time of his assault.

  -The Federation Navy in Retrospect, 4199

  Boston, 4100

  Tanya sucked in her breath as the assault pods oriented themselves and opened fire, spewing cargos of missiles towards her fortresses. They were largely short-range missiles, but it didn’t matter. They’d find their targets before their drives burned out. Her starfighters were picking off as many of the missiles as they could, but there were just too many of them. The remainder simply continued towards the fortresses.

  “All hands, brace for impact,” she snapped, as the missiles entered point defense range and closed in. “I say again, brace for impact.”

  The tidal wave of missiles roared down on her fortresses, blazing through a web of deadly point defense fire. Hundreds died, but hundreds more survived as they entered engagement range and slammed home. The fortress rocked violently as a dozen antimatter warheads slammed against her shields, the lights flickering and flaring as power was hastily diverted to the backup shield generators. Tanya held the armrests of her command chair and prayed, silently, as the missiles hammered her command. A single failure at the right – or rather the wrong – time could shatter her fortress, followed by the datanet link holding the defenses together.

  “Commodore,” Lieutenant Janelle reported, “the drones are screaming past the defense line.”

  Tanya’s eyes narrowed. The enemy had launched communications drones through the Asimov Point as well as assault pods. And that meant...what? They had to be trying to communicate with someone inside the system, because there could be no other explanation for expending so many drones, but why? Did they have an entire assault fleet lurking on the edge of the system, just like Commodore Lopez? Or were they hoping to coordinate an assault through multiple Asimov Points?

  They’re not stupid, she told herself. They have to have something in mind.

  She activated her implants, linked her mind into the fortress’s datanet and ran through the figures. It would take hours to get a message from one Asimov Point to another, unless the enemy had somehow managed to build a miniaturised StarCom and fit it on a drone. Somehow, she doubted it; even if they had managed to solve the problem of making it small enough, they’d be insane to send it into an enemy-occupied system. No, there was something else at work, but what?

  “Commodore, a second wave of assault pods is transiting the point,” Midshipman Stevenson snapped. “They’re spewing out missiles now.”

  Tanya nodded. That, at least, was more conventional. The starfighters prowling around the point were doing their best, but they were taking losses. Unsurprisingly, the antimatter the enemy was using for warheads was sweeping space clean of starfighters, ensuring that few starfighters survived their attempts to take out the pods. And the missiles were also wiping out the minefields, piece by piece. She’d known the mines wouldn’t last long, but watching them die without harming the enemy in the slightest was more than a little galling.

  She watched, grimly, as a second wave of missiles fell on her fortresses. The enemy didn’t seem to have had time to conduct any assessment of their earlier strikes, because the missiles went after targets at random rather than trying to hammer the fortresses that had already been badly damaged. That was a relief; the fortresses were designed to soak up missile hits, but the sheer immensity of the barrages was doing real damage. Two of her fortresses had lost some of their shields, while three more had taken minor damage. It looked as though her network of automated platforms were also taking a beating. By the time the enemy started launching warships through the point, she might not have anything left to stop them.

  “New contacts,” Midshipman Quigley warned A wave of red icons appeared on the display. “They read out as freighters...”

  Tanya leaned forward, puzzled. There was no point in sending twelve freighters through the Asimov Point. Her starfighters were already swooping down to engage...realization dawned and she reached for her console to call them back, but it was already too late. Space flared with brilliant light as the freighters dropped their containment fields, allowing the antimatter in their holds to touch matter. The resulting explosion was truly staggering. Even at a distance, the sensor network took one hell of a battering, while the starfighters were literally swatted out of space. Mines were detonated or simply knocked out of commission.

  “The sensor network has been weakened,” Lieutenant Janelle said. “I’m having to reboot large segments of the datanodes and...”

  Her voice trailed off. New red icons appeared on the display.

  “Incoming ships,” Midshipman Quigley said. “They read out as gunboats, small shuttlecraft and bulk freighters...correction! The freighters are small carriers. They’re launching fighters now.”

  “Contact Admiral Garibaldi, inform him that we require additional starfighter cover,” Tanya ordered, although she knew it would be too late. The enemy ships were already launching starfighters, while the main body of the Federation fleet was light hours away. “And inform him that this appears to be the main axis of attack.”

  The gunboats roared towards their targets as another wave of missile pods appeared in their wake, then started to spew missiles into space. Tanya gritted her teeth as the missiles launched, targeted – once again – on her fortresses. The point defense network, badly weakened, kept firing, taking out as many missiles as they could. But there just wasn’t enough firepower to make a difference. Her fortress rocked violently as missiles slammed home, knocking down her shields. Three more fortresses vanished in tearing flashes of light, their containment chambers failing as the missiles detonated against their armoured flanks and wiping them out of space. The remaining fortresses had all taken heavy damage...

  Five thousand dead, part of her mind noted. The enemy gunboats were closing in, launching missiles towards the automated platforms as they entered engagement range. There will be more dead soon.

  She sucked in her breath as yet another wave of red icons appeared on the display. This time, they were small cruisers, their sensors already probing space for possible targets. If the Outsiders hadn’t damaged her defenses so badly, the cruisers wouldn’t have lasted long enough to orient themselves, let along scan local space and send their results back to their commanders. But now, they had all the time they needed to check on the results and send a message home. It wouldn’t be long before the battlewagons started to transit the Asimov Point, then secure local space.

  “Commodore, the shuttles are closing in,” Lieutenant Janelle reported. She sounded puzzled, as if she didn’t understand what she was seeing. “They’re scattering...”

  Tanya frowned. It didn’t quite make sense...

  “They’re launching assault troopers,” she said. She keyed her switch, then checked the firearm at her belt. “All hands, prepare to repel boarders. I say again, all hands prepare to repel boarders.”

  She cursed under her breath. Boarding actions were rare, almost unheard of outside adventure stories and bad movies. The enemy would have to gamble she wouldn’t blow the fortress, just to prevent it falling into enemy hands. But if they succeeded, they would have taken possession of a useless hulk. She’d definitely have time to purge the command network, if nothing else...

  “And send a signal to Admiral Garibaldi,” she added. On the display, a green icon representing a fortress flashed and vanished. Another two thousand men and women ha
d just been wiped from existence. “Inform him that we will continue sending updates as long as we can.”

  * * *

  “Admiral,” Lieutenant Thompson said, “there are smaller attacks at the other two Asimov Points.”

  Roman cursed under his breath. The enemy was trying to be clever, which he’d expected, but there was something about the timing that bothered him. At least the assault on Point Delta was too strong to be anything other than the main assault...unless the Outsiders were far stronger than he had believed possible. No, the assault on Point Delta had to be the main assault. And that meant...what? Why was the enemy probing the other Asimov Points?

  He stared down at the display for a long moment, then understood. The Outsiders hadn’t anticipated the StarCom network. They’d launched three assaults, two of them feints, just to distract him, believing that he’d hear about the assault on Point Gamma first. And he would have done, if he hadn’t been using the StarComs. Instead, he knew which of the assaults was the real one.

  “Set course for Point Delta, best possible speed,” he ordered. By the time they arrived, the enemy would likely have secured the Asimov Point and started to advance into the system, probably heading for Point Alpha or Point Beta. But they would have to take out his fleet before declaring victory. “And contact Commodore Lopez. I want him to bring his fleet to alert status now.”

  “Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Thompson said.

  Roman sat back in his chair and forced himself to relax.

  * * *