“Oh?”
“A thirty percent failure rate is projected. We have three hundred torpedoes, which are tied into the Planetary Defence Grid. Production means we’re adding another four a day to the available units.”
“Could they be tied into our ships?”
“Sir?”
“These torpedoes, they match the physical dimensions of the Mk Thirteen. The next battle will be fought inside this solar system. We will have no requirement for message drones.”
Tsukioka glanced towards one of the developers.
“Yes, sir, I believe so.”
“It gives us another card to play,” Lewis said as mentally he started to slot the new weapons into his plans.
30th November 2067
Lewis lay on his bunk on Warspite staring up at the deckhead, his mind drifting from one possible deployment to another. The great battleship was now out of dock and holding in a high Earth orbit with the rest of the fleet. Nothing new was coming to mind and nothing they’d already considered would stand even the smallest chance of success. All options were on the table, from fielding untested weapon systems to using untried tactics that would have seen a first year cadet kicked out of officer training for even suggesting during peacetime. None of it would work – the Nameless simply possessed all the advantages. If there was an answer to their dilemma, Lewis couldn’t see it. His eyes started to flicker shut as he drifted off.
The main alarm went off with a banshee like scream. Lewis was up and out of the bunk instantly, simultaneously trying to ram his intercom earpiece into place.
“Bridge, report!” he shouted.
“Sir, an alien ship has just jumped in!”
Christ, I thought I had a few more weeks, Lewis thought desperately as he reached for his survival suit. We aren’t ready! Then the officer on the other end of the link said what Lewis did not expect.
“Sir, it’s not the Nameless. It’s... Aèllr?”
The voice on the other end sounded confused. Lewis didn’t reply; he was out of his cabin and heading for the bridge.
“Report!” he barked as he stepped onto the bridge.
“It’s confirmed – contact is an Aèllr Province class heavy cruiser,” called out a bridge office. “It’s one light second beyond the Red Line and at rest relative. Engines are at standby, her gun turrets are trained fore and aft, they are not powered up.”
“The fleet is coming online. We have tactical uplink from all squadrons,” added Captain Sheehan, his chief of staff.
Lewis stepped towards the bridge’s main holo. The red blip for the Aèllr was blinking slowly, but beside it was a second blip, this one green.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Transponder is showing it as the diplomatic cruiser the Mandela, sir. She jumped in at the same time as the Aèllr contact. She isn’t moving. Records say she should be at the Mhar home world.”
“The Mandela is transmitting, sir,” reported a communications officer. “Diplomatic encryption sir… Sir, we do not have the key for that encryption.”
“Sir, signal from Headquarters. Priority One, we are ordered to… ordered to… we’re ordered to stand down.”
“Confirm that!” Lewis demanded.
“Sir, that’s confirmed. We are ordered to stand down. The whole fleet is ordered to stand down. Orders on the authority of Admiral Wingate.”
The bridge went silent. Looking around, Lewis could see confusion on some faces, alarm on others and fear on a few, both officers and crew. Whatever else, a crew needed to think their commanders were in control. On the display the Aèllr cruiser was slowly moving towards one of the outer markers.
“Very well,” Lewis said, forcing himself to speak calmly. “Captain Holfe, please have a shuttle prepared. I may need to return to the surface.”
By the time the shuttle was ready orders had arrived from Headquarters instructing his return. As soon as he landed, Lewis was escorted to Wingate’s office. The atmosphere had changed in the few days he had been away. From one of fatalistic gloom, to something uncertain; junior officers and ratings watched Lewis pass, searching for some clue to indicate whether this development could be viewed as good news or bad.
When Lewis was shown in, Wingate was standing at the window, while Admiral Fengzi was sitting frowning. Wingate held a glass of something in his maimed left hand. They’d never been friends as such, always superior and subordinate, but Lewis had known Wingate for a long time. He knew that those days when his superior poured a very small measure of whiskey into a glass were never good ones.
“Sit down, Paul,” Wingate said without turning. “Gentlemen, I expect you are aware of the new arrival.”
“Yes, sir,” Lewis replied. “Clearly they were expected, sir. So why are they here?”
“Well it’s not to join us,” Wingate said heavily. “Although God knows we wouldn’t turn them down if they did.”
“Then why are they here?” Fengzi asked.
“A few months ago the Aèllr Confederacy unexpectedly contacted our diplomatic mission on the Mhar home world. They made clear that they knew how vulnerable we are. They also made clear that they regard the Nameless as a serious threat to the Confederacy. Because of that, they see no advantage to themselves if we get wiped out. Much of the information we have on the Nameless comes from them.”
“Yes, we’re both aware of that,” Fengzi said impatiently.
“What you won’t be aware of is that with the opening of a direct line of communication to central government of the Confederacy, the Council decided to explore whether they could be persuaded to offer material assistance.”
“From the Aèllr!” Fengzi burst out. “Good God! What the hell...”
“I’m not finished,” Wingate cut across him.
He raised the glass to his lips then lowered it again.
“The answer was a very firm no. Apparently, there are senior elements in the Confederacy’s central government that would favour at least offering logistical support, while we could still carry much of the burden. But it has become equally clear from various Mhar sources that those elements could not carry the Aèllr home world, much less their various colony worlds. For them, this is a war being fought a long distance away, by people they don’t care much about.”
“But something has been agreed,” Lewis said, “or that ship wouldn’t be here.”
“Yes.” Wingate paused to put down the untouched glass. “That ship is here as part of a project codenamed The Lazarus Protocol. While the Aèllr are unwilling to get actively involved at this time, those central government elements are willing to make concessions and the Council has struck a bargain. On behalf of the Council, the President of the United States will be making an announcement in about twenty minutes. She will be informing the planet that a convoy of personnel transports is being formed. Five thousand colonists have been selected from the major nations, who are being lifted into orbit as we speak. Once they’re on board their ships and in hibernation, they will be escorted to the Confederacy border by the Aèllr cruiser. There they will wait for the Battle of Earth to be decided. Should Earth fall, then they will continue on to the Aèllr colony world of Ptioet, on the far side of Confederacy space. It is the newest of their colony worlds, which they only started to settle twenty years ago. One of the planet’s continents has yet to be opened for settlement. We’ve… bought it.”
Lewis and Fengzi exchanged looks of amazement.
“The colony will be an Aèllr protectorate. They have offered guarantees on internal independence, which the Council regards as acceptable,” Wingate continued as he sat down. “Thanks to their position on the far side of Aèllr space from the Nameless, they will be a protected outpost of humanity.”
“The Aèllr? The race against which we fought a war: a war in which they attempted to box us in onto our own planet.”
Fengzi’s tone was no longer angry, but one of utter disbelief. “Last year the Council kept good ships pissing around on the Aèllr border
when Dryad was nearly taken from us!”
“And they’re doing this out of the goodness of their hearts?” Lewis asked in a matching tone.
“Politicians take time to adjust to new conditions,” Wingate shrugged. “Once they do, they can go in unexpected directions. No, the Aèllr are not acting out of some newly discovered fondness for us. Our ships will be carrying a database of our ship designs, technical plus tactical manuals and every piece of military writing from the last two hundred years. That is the price we have paid for their agreement.”
“We can’t give the…” Fengzi started to exclaim.
Wingate slammed his hand down.
“That decision has been made!” he shouted, before continuing more calmly. “The agreement has what is in effect a standby proviso. If we succeed in repelling the Nameless, then the convoy will return without handing over any information. That much I was able to add to the deal.”
“And we really think the Aèllr can be trusted?” Fengzi asked, aghast.
“The Council do and that’s what matters,” Wingate shrugged. “If Earth falls, then our military secrets are valuable only as currency. Our political masters have made the decision and we do as we are bid. The Council is doing what it thinks, what it hopes, is for the best. That isn’t our problem; our problem is making sure this doesn’t break the morale of the fleet.”
“What about Dryad?” Lewis asked.
“Publicly, nothing will be mentioned. If asked, the Council will state that since the Mhar cannot offer any meaningful military protection and none of the Tample can be trusted, the policy towards Dryad is as it always has been – to defend it against all comers. However when Admiral Melchiori was ordered to send the Resplendent home, he was also instructed that in the event of Earth falling, he is authorised to seek political union with the Mhar Union. The three cruisers under his command should provide a sufficient sweetener for such a deal.”
“With us gone, the Mhar would likely seek full alliance with the Aèllr,” Fengzi said, now in a calmer tone.
“Yes. Which since the Aèllr seem to sincerely believe that war with the Nameless is coming, would likely not be refused,” Wingate agreed in a tired voice. “So even if Earth falls, something will remain of humanity. Even if is only as a subordinate species.”
He pulled himself to his feet again and, picking up the glass, returned to the window.
“I think that’s all gentlemen. You are both dismissed.”
The two Admirals lingered for a few moments outside Wingate’s office before, by unspoken agreement, they headed towards the Flag Officers restaurant. Fengzi irritably waved away one of the service staff as he sat down heavily.
“Subordinate species,” he muttered, shaking his head. “To even think it makes me gag. Why did we even bother all those years ago just to roll over now? God damn gutless worms of politicians!”
“It puts the human race’s eggs in more than one basket,” Lewis said. “Not a bad plan as far as it goes.”
“Except it depends on the goodwill of people who don’t have much reason to have any towards us!” Fengzi observed darkly, before shaking his head again. “To have come to this!”
The two sat in silence for a while.
“How is the latest set of tactical simulations looking?” Lewis eventually asked.
“Every damn thing we can think of has been tried,” Fengzi replied. “While some aspects get good results, the overall ratio of our losses to theirs is still coming up short – Far too short. I mean we have some things going for us. In as near as we can tell, they can only jump within a solar system. So they can’t hide their support ships outside the system. Also, since the Nameless ships have to be close to stationary to jump, if we get into gun range we could knock them off like ducks in a row. Problem is there just doesn’t seem to be a way to manoeuvre the fleet into contact without them seeing us coming. Even getting from the highest orbit to the edge of Earth’s mass shadow takes too damn long.”
The both lapsed back into silence, each man lost in his own thoughts.
“Why an entire fleet?” Lewis murmured.
“What?”
“Why are we thinking about getting the entire fleet in,” Lewis said in a still distant tone. “Get into gun range and even a small force could inflict disproportionate damage.”
“Because there is no material difference between getting a small fast force in or a larger slower one. Plus, if they didn’t get into gun range, then they’d be overwhelmed. Don’t get me wrong, there is a role for detached elements – most of the carriers can be more productive carrying out hit and runs from the edge of the solar system than they would be sat in Earth orbit.”
Lewis was still staring into the middle distance and it was doubtful whether he had even heard Fengzi.
“The Nameless cap ship missiles can fire from over a light second out, but to put in serious weight of fire, they have to get within three quarters of a light second of the target so they can use the smaller dual-purpose missiles. So to put in an assault against Earth, they have to get inside the mass shadow.”
“Which still gives them a margin of a good quarter of a light second to play with,” Fengzi said. “If we try to move towards them, then they can slow down fast enough to be able to jump away before we reach gun range.”
“Not if something bottles them up. If by the time they know they’re in contact they’re already under fire, then even if our force is only a few ships we could inflict major casualties on them. They have to come to a near halt and become sitting ducks, as you put it, or try to run in real space, where they possess no acceleration advantage and we could chase them down.”
“Yes, yes! That’s all lovely but we’ve looked at this!” Fengzi replied in exasperation. “The only ships we can reasonably expect to get to gun range are fighters and strike boats. Even with them the only ones to get there will be from our carriers operating from beyond the heliopause. If we used all our carriers, that gives us only six squadrons of space fighters and two dozen strike boats. Even if we got them into position, they could not hold! The Nameless would push them aside, not without loss to themselves, but not enough loss!”
“Then we need something more substantial than fighters. A fast division of line warships,” Lewis replied. “The Nameless would have to cross through their gun range to escape.”
“And how the hell are you planning to get this fast division into this happy position?” Fengzi asked sarcastically. “The Nameless will not put themselves in a vulnerable position knowing there is a force wandering around somewhere in the solar system. This fast division will be chased down and crushed, or forced to retreat to Earth or another mass shadow.”
“The fast division would have to be concealed. The Nameless cannot seek what they do not know exists,” Lewis wondered, half to himself.
“Where?” Fengzi asked, returning to his exasperated tone. “Both my staff and yours have looked at that thoroughly! The only place we could ‘hide’ a squadron would be out beyond the heliopause in interstellar space and that’s no use. As soon as they arrive, the Nameless will jam the FTL frequencies. That will limit this fast division to light speed communications and sensors. If the Nameless do move into this position of vulnerability, the fast division won’t even know until hours afterward.”
“Then we hide them inside the solar system.”
“Hide! There is nowhere we can hide an entire squadron! One or two ships might be able to go silent and not be spotted, but unless the Nameless suddenly become complete idiots, they’ll do a complete sweep of the system and get close enough to Earth to compare whatever we have in orbit with their force projections of us. Except for Saturn’s lower rings, there is no orbit into which we can put a force of ships where they won’t be spotted – and that’s in an even deeper mass shadow, so no use.”
“Then don’t put them in orbit,” Lewis said slowly. “Land them.”
“What!”
“Put the ships down and cut to silent running.
The remaining heat profile can be masked by the surrounding material.”
“Exactly which ships are you planning to do this with?” Fengzi demanded. “We only have a couple of dozen strike boats that are even capable of landing on the Moon!”
“I wasn’t thinking of Earth’s moon. I was thinking of Mars’s – either Phobos or Deimos. The transmission lag between Earth and Mars is about thirty minutes.”
Fengzi opened his mouth to retort, but then stopped and looked thoughtful.
“Mars’s mass shadow is shallow and Phobos is small – escape velocity is what… ten to fifteen metres per second?” he said after a moment.
“About that. Mars has been evacuated. It would need to be a strike group, fast enough to get into contact and strong enough to do damage when it got there,” Lewis replied.
“What ships are you thinking of?”
“Hmm, Warspite, a flak cruiser and maybe half a dozen Statesman class cruisers – or a batch of three Myth class ships, plus destroyers.”
Fengzi raised an eyebrow, “Warspite? Surely it would be better if it was a ship other than the Home Fleet Flagship.”
“On full burn, Warspite can nearly match the acceleration curve of a heavy cruiser. The only other battleship we have that can match Warspite for pace is old Fortitude and she doesn’t have even nearly the same firepower. No it would have to be either Warspite or no battleship at all, and it would need a battleship.”
“That leaves you with a problem of a missing ship. They’ve seen Warspite, when they don’t see her here, that will be a giveaway.”
“No. Her sister ship…”
“Yavuz Sultan Selim? She’s not ready, they’re still building her.”
“She’s mostly done, currently she’s missing several engines. Planetary Defence is already due to take her over and use her as a crude starfort, but what’s important is that a vessel with the correct silhouette will be visible,” Lewis said.
“Well, that still leaves you with a lot of ships to hide and you haven’t explained how you plan to land ships that were built in orbit and were never designed to put down.”
The Last Charge (The Nameless War Trilogy Book 3) Page 6
