Exodus: Empires at War: Book 3: The Rising Storm

by Doug Dandridge

  The Commodore nodded and the transmission ended. The Admiral pulled up the personnel file of the commanders of the hyper VII ships he was interested in, This Captain Mei Lei looks like one competent commander, he thought. A future task force commander. Or she would have been, if she didn’t have to sacrifice her ship to save the heir. And this other captain, von Rittersdorf. A young man with a reputation for thinking on his feet. Also with a bright future ahead of him, if he got out of this alive.

  The Admiral stared at the plot for a moment longer, wondering what his best move would be. Rear Admiral Montgomery was also out there, prowling space on a search for the heir. She would find him too, as long as he didn’t stray too far from a straight path toward the fleet base. If they were being chased, there was no guarantee they would stick to that straight line. And if not, then he had no idea where to look. He could send ships out in small scouting parties, and then ran the risk of having them snapped up by the enemy, whose dispositions he also was not sure of.

  “I’ll have a meeting with my staff,” he said into the com to his adjutant. “One hour.”

  I don’t think any of us will be getting much sleep tonight, he thought. Or much in the days ahead, until we either know that young man is alive, or dead.

  An hour later the Admiral met with his staff in a large conference room, the view port looking over the planet it orbited. Some other constructs were visible in that port, shown by the reflected sunlight. An industrialized world, with facilities planetside and in space. A well-defended world, and he was planning to take much of its defense away from it.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, sir,” said Commodore Blanca Gomez, his fleet intelligence officer. “I mean, uncovering the sector headquarters.”

  “A fleet is not made to sit in a defensive position,” said Rear Admiral Joshua Peritelli, the commander of the scouting force. “It’s made to go on offensive operations.”

  “If we lose the headquarters this soon in the war, we are in serious trouble,” said the Commodore. “Sir,” she said, looking over at Mgonda. “I feel this action is a mistake.”

  “Be that as it may,” said Mgonda, glancing at Peritelli, then back at his intelligence officer, “this is the decision I have made. That young man, out there in the dark, is more important to the Empire than any single base.”

  “You don’t even know that he is alive,” said the Commodore, her voice pleading. “This could be all for nothing.”

  “We will do this, Blanca,” said the Admiral. “And I want you on the flag bridge of my ship with me. Can you do that, despite your misgivings.”

  “I will do my duty, sir,” said the woman. “To the best of my abilities. But I have a question for you, Admiral. All of the other ships involved in this, mess, are hyper VII, theirs and ours. What are you going to do with a bunch of hyper VI ships if they don’t come down and play?”

  “I may have the answer to that, Blanca,” said Admiral Peritelli. The holo over the center of the desk sprung to life, showing a pair of large missile colliers moving into the system.

  “And what is that?” asked Blanca, leaning forward.

  “A whole shit load of hyper VII missiles,” said the scout force commander. “The resupply for all the hyper VII ships in the sector.”

  “Can we use them?” asked Mgonda, wanting to hope that this might be the way they could strike at this enemy.

  “I don’t see why not,” said the lower ranking Admiral, while his many superiors in the room started to talk among themselves in whispers. “We can fire them in VI and translate them up to VII, where they can go after the enemy.”

  “But can our ships launch them?” asked Vice Admiral Duchoveny, one of the battle line task force commanders.

  “The battleships can launch the battle cruiser missiles,” said Peritelli, pulling up schematic diagrams of the weapons. “They’ll fit in the battleship launch tubes. The cruisers can use light cruiser missiles, dropping them out of their hangar bays and cargo holds. And my destroyers can do the same with the destroyer missiles.”

  “Not the most efficient way to use those weapons,” said Duchoveny, shaking his head. “But definitely better than nothing.”

  “That will deprive us of armaments for all our hyper VII ships,” said Montgomery, her concerned face looking at the Mgonda, who had the final authority.

  “Again, they are weapons made to be used, not stored,” said Mgonda. “And I mean to use them. So,” he said, looking over at his Fleet Commander, Fleet Admiral McIntosh, “what do you have in your cupboard, Ruth?”

  “I think I can provide the Admiral with a sufficient force to handle most anything we run into, with the exception of a major enemy battle fleet.”

  “So we just have to hope we don’t run into one of those,” said Gomez. “Otherwise, cake.”

  “What about your destroyers and cruisers?” asked Mgonda, looking over at Peritelli.

  “I can give you a hundred ships,” said that officer. “Maybe a few more. I assume you want us to leave as soon as possible, and to scout far ahead.”

  “No,” said Mgonda, shaking his head. “I have a very specific deployment in mind. Sort of a net to catch our strays. How long before we can start loading those missiles on board my ships?”

  ‘They’ll be in orbit in about six hours,” said Peritelli. “Say another six to get the missiles onto all of our ships. Maybe eight.”

  “Could we head for the limit and load the ships on the way?”

  “No, sir,” said Peritelli. “They can’t reverse course before they get to orbit. And we need the docking facilities here in orbit to offload and transfer those weapons.”

  “Fifteen hours,” said Mgonda with a frown. “I want the fleet boosting for the hyper barrier in sixteen hours. Maximum accel/decel profile. We’re going to war, ladies and gentlemen. Now, let’s get to work.”

  * * *

  HYPERSPACE, OUTSIDE OF SESTIUS SYSTEM.

  “All ships have finished translating,” said the Com Officer, his words slow in his illness.

  Why do we, of all creatures, have to endure so much nausea when jumping in and out of hyperspace? thought the Admiral, forcing his gorge back down. It seemed so unfair that the people who were destined to rule the stars were so afflicted by this illness that was part of travelling between the worlds.

  “The last of the enemy ships in the diversionary force has been destroyed,” called out the Sensor Officer. “Catastrophic translation is reverberating through hyper.”

  And they timed it perfectly, thought the Admiral. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t count on it also obscuring our own translation. We should be out of their range anyway, as they are just at the very edge of ours.

  “So they don’t know we are here?” asked the Admiral.

  “They shouldn’t,” said the Sensor Officer. “No, my Lord.”

  “All ships are to accelerate at the same rate as the enemy,” he ordered, looking at his bridge officers. “I want to stay on the very edge of our detection range, until I say otherwise.”

  The bridge crew all gave indications of acknowledgement and went to work. And unknown to the humans seven battleships, eight cruisers and twelve scout ships of the Imperial Ca’cadasan Fleet followed on the trail of a human force they outmassed five to one.

  * * *

  CONUNDRUM SYSTEM, APRIL 8TH, 1000.

  The hole in space opened up and the destroyer slid out of hyper. Ahead was the bright sun of the system, at this range not much more than a fierce point of light. The viewer immediately centered on the inhabited world, Conundrum III. What was on the screen was impressive, a developing world with well-developed space industry, huge factories in high orbit around the planet. Over five hundred million souls called the world, the sector capital, home, and it was a magnet attracting people who wanted to move from the core worlds, but still wanted the defenses that five orbital forts and significant ground artillery gave it. A sixth fort was under construction in orbit.

  The Captain
ordered the viewer to switch to a zoom out view of the system, to take in the other planets. Several million more humans lived on the other worlds, harvesting their resources. Millions more called the asteroid belt home, and utilized their riches to feed the space industries of the planet.

  Further in from the planet, closer to the energy of the sun, were the antimatter production sats that turned photons into the field used to flip the charge on protons, and turn them into antiprotons. While not of the magnitude of the core world plants, they still gave the system a large boost to the antimatter it could use to fuel military and commercial ships.

  And there were many of those vessels in the system, as shown by the holo plot which took the place of the real space view at the order of the Captain. Hundreds of military vessels, thirty of them dedicated normal space defense vessels, the rest regular fleet units. There were also over a hundred commercial vessels in system, and a convoy of empties was on the other side of the local space, heading for the hyper barrier.

  “It looks even busier than the last time we were here,” said Lasardo, looking at the information on his own targeting board.

  “Funny how a war will do that,” said von Rittersdorf.

  “We’re getting a signal from Kleinfeld,” said the Com Officer. “They wish us luck, and are going to high speed run into the system.”

  “Give them our thanks,” said the Captain. “If we have to worry about an alien attack here, we’re in more trouble than I believe.”

  The ship accelerated into the system at eighty gravities, her max at this time, for five hours before they were contacted by a source identifying itself as the superbattleship Frederick de Grosse. The Com Officer listened for a few moments, then switched the com signal onto the viewer.

  The Captain sat up in his chair as he saw the visage of Grand Fleet Admiral Duke Taelis Mgonda on the screen. “Captain von Rittersdorf. This is the Sector Commander. I understand that you last saw the heir. I am ordering you to send your logs to this ship over the com. I have dispatched a courier to pick you up from your ship and bring you aboard mine. Please order your second to take your ship to space dock, where I have ordered expedited repairs to McArthur. Mgonda out.”

  “Wonder what that was about?” asked Lasardo. “And he said his ship, so he must be preparing to go on an operation.”

  “That would be my guess,” said the Captain, looking at the tactical that showed hundreds of vessels heading toward the hyper barrier. “You have the con, Lasardo. I’m going to try and get a little sleep before that courier gets here.”

  Maurice tried to sleep, but it did not come his way. His mind was too active, trying to figure out what was going on. That it had something to do with the Emperor, and that the Sector Commander was going to be in the thick of it, was obvious.

  The courier was an interesting vessel. Only ten thousand tons, with a crew of fifteen and room for twenty passengers, the ship was capable of hyper VII translation and could pull seven hundred gravities. Only the attack fighters could accel at a greater rate. Maurice finally fell asleep on the trip in, a least time acel-decel trip to get him to the Admiral’s ship as quickly as possible, before they left the system. He woke up on final approach, looking at more battleships than he had ever seen on his room viewer.

  Maurice watched the superbattleship on the screen as the courier matched velocities with the warship. It was one of the most powerful warships in the Imperial inventory, but the Captain realized it was no longer the most powerful ship in human space. The larger Ca’cadasan warships now held that honor, though he hoped their crews weren’t as good as those aboard human vessels.

  A huge hatch opened amidships, leading into a large hangar, big enough to accept the ten thousand ton hyperdrive ship. Marines were waiting for the Captain as he disembarked, rendering a rifle salute, then leading him from the hangar to the nearest lift. Maurice rode the lift, thinking about what it would be like to command such a ship. It could take on fifty Dot McArthur’s and destroy them without trouble. But they aren’t as fast, thought the Captain, knowing that he would rather have one of the hyper VII light cruisers, or possibly a battle cruiser, something that could plow through hyper as fast as anything made.

  The corridors were full of people hauling things all over the place. The Captain and the Marines were required to step aside several times as robotics haulers towing pallets of boxes made their way down the corridor, sounding warning sirens whenever weaker organics got in the way. Looks like they’re getting ready for a deployment, thought von Rittersdorf, recalling the smaller fast cargo vessels he had seen cruising up along the side of the great vessel. And he also recalled the numerous ships he had seen displayed on the screen, enough to make up a respectable battle force.

  “Here is the young officer you called for, Admiral,” said one of the Marines when they walked onto the flag bridge.

  Maurice stiffened to attention as soon as he saw the officer who turned and looked at him. He rendered the proper salute to perfection, then stood stiffly, waiting for the officer to acknowledge him. He had, of course, recognized Duke Taelis Mgonda, Grand Fleet Admiral and ranking officer in this sector. There was an equal ranking army officer in charge of ground defense, but that man was not in von Rittersdorf’s chain of command.

  “At ease, Duke von Rittersdorf,” said the Admiral with a smile, then held his hand up to stop the protest from leaving Maurice’s mouth. “I understand from the log you transmitted that our runaway prince was handing out titles and promotions right and left. I guess the titles will stand, once he get on the throne. Probably the rank as well.” The Admiral looked at the central plot that was alive with vessels, over two hundred warships and several hundred supply ships hustling to get things aboard the fighting vessels. It was obvious that this was a hasty deployment, without long term planning.

  “What I want from you is your impression of where they went. I know it’s in your log, but I thought I should hear it from your mouth as well, and any information that might not have made it into the log.”

  “They definitely were heading for Sestius, Admiral,” said the young officer, sure what the first question would be. “The Emperor wanted to rescue the people there after he learned that they were under siege.”

  “And she just let him lead her by the nose on a damned suicide mission,” said the Admiral with a snarl. “Only, knowing Mara Montgomery, she would have found a way to get him back.”

  “The Emperor felt it important to save those people, Admiral,” said von Rittersdorf, not sure why he was defending the younger man, when he knew the decision had been stupid.

  “He’s not Emperor yet, Captain,” said the Admiral with a scowl. “And if he doesn’t get back to the throne before they crown some other idiot, which is exactly what the Lords wants to do, he will never be Emperor.”

  “But, I thought they would have to wait.”

  “Normally they would,” agreed the Admiral, looking over at the plot and making a gesture toward a crewman sitting at a control board. “But we are in the early stages of a war against an enemy from our worst nightmares, and people will demand a leader. If the Lords can ram a vote through all the houses of Parliament they will be able to put whatever little shit they want on the throne. The Fleet won’t support it, and that might lead to more trouble.”

  Like civil war, thought Maurice, wondering if such a thing were possible. And what it might do to the military while they were trying to rally to fight the Ca’cadasans.

  “It was a nice gesture to try to save the people from one frontier planet,” said the Admiral, interrupting the Captain’s thoughts. “But as you can see on the plot, Sestius is the least of our worries.”

  Maurice looked up to see that the plot of the system had been replaced by a star map of the Sector. Over five hundred stars were lit bright, signifying colonies or important industrial concerns. And fifty of those were blinking red, showing that enemy incursion had occurred in those systems. Thirty-two of the blinking dots became solid red,
the systems the enemy has taken.

  “We’ve lost twenty-eight frontier systems to date that we know of, and it could have risen since this information was gathered.” The Admiral looked at the Captain with a glare, as if accusing him of causing this to happen. “And four developing systems, each of which was a hell of a lot more important than all the frontier systems taken, combined. And the Lost Prince decided to go rescue one.” The Admiral smacked a fist into a palm and glared at the plot.

  “What I’d like to know from you, Captain, is how we fight these things and win,” said the Admiral, turning back to von Rittersdorf. “I’ve fought them in normal space, but this time we’re likely to meet them in hyper. So, how do we fight them?”

  “You're using hyper VI ships, Admiral,” said von Rittersdorf, shaking his head. “As long as they stay in VII I’m not sure how you fight them, unless you lure them somehow into VI. Unless you have enough VII ships to engage them up there.”

  “I’m afraid we don’t have any available,” said an officer wearing a Commodore’s rank. “With the exception of a couple of destroyers, everything else is out scouting. And Mara took the majority of what we had with her. So, we don’t have ships that can bring them to contact in hyper. So we have to lure them down to our level.”

  “Unless we use those missiles on them that can reach to VII,” said the Admiral, excitement in his voice, pointing to another screen that showed the image of a destroyer class hyper VII missile. Something that von Rittersdorf was very familiar with. “Reloads for our hyper VII ships. And the perfect weapon for engaging a foe that won’t come down to us.”

  The Admiral turned back to the Captain and patted him on the shoulder. “Fine job in bringing your ship back, young man. Now I think you need to get to the space dock so you can oversee having her repaired and refitted. We’ll take it from here.”

  * * *