UnArcana Stars

by Glynn Stewart

It took almost thirty minutes for the last of the gunships to disappear into their designated airlocks, and Roslyn had to wonder if they were being rearmed any faster than they were being recovered.

  “I don’t think we need to worry about a second gunship strike, sir,” she reported to Kulkarni. “Even assuming that they can rearm them fast enough to get them out, they wouldn’t have time to carry out a strike, return and be recovered. They’ll deploy them before the fleet action, but they aren’t going to send them out again.”

  “Not that an extra three thousand RFLAM turrets and six thousand launchers are going to be meaningless in the fleet action,” the Captain said. “I’d almost rather they tried to send them in alone again.”

  Roslyn was selfish enough to silently disagree. Another gunship strike would hammer the destroyer screen—a screen that included the ship carrying one Roslyn Chambers.

  “I’ll watch for the first launches,” she promised the Captain. “That will give us a good idea of how long it takes them to rearm the parasites.”

  “Every scrap of data is worth something,” Kulkarni agreed. “No one has said anything specific to me, but my understanding is that we’ve got that MISS stealth ship swanning around out there somewhere, picking up our telemetry and recording everything in case things go wrong.”

  Roslyn swallowed.

  “So, at least if we die, Mars will know what happened,” she said levelly.

  “Exactly. Can’t say that’s how I would prefer this to end, but at least it won’t be for nothing.” The Mage-Captain shook her head. “I’m still hoping to find out we overestimated the bastards somehow.”

  Roslyn kept her peace. About the only trick left in the Protectorate’s quiver were the decoys positioned throughout the cruiser line. When the fleet brought those online, it would look like an extra two hundred cruisers had appeared from nowhere.

  They wouldn’t fool anyone in the RIN formation—but if the rest of the defenders were throwing enough jamming into space, those extra two hundred targets should screw up their missiles pretty badly.

  “Fifty-five minutes to Republic missile range,” Roslyn stated. “Unless we start moving shortly, almost twenty minutes after that before we’re in range.”

  “It’s the Admiral’s call,” Kulkarni replied. “If we push too soon, though, we’ll lose the decoys. I’d guess we’ll start accelerating after the Republican launches.”

  Roslyn wasn’t sure the decoys were worth the risk inherent in the near-immobility of the defending fleet, but she wasn’t the one making the decisions. She was just the one watching the sensors…and what was that?

  “Jump flare!” she reported loudly. “Multiple jump flares…more jump flares. Dear gods…I’m reading over a hundred jump flares.”

  “The hell?” Kulkarni demanded, the Mage-Captain rising from her seat to study the scanners. “Get me better resolution, Chambers!”

  “I make it…one hundred fifty signatures,” Roslyn said slowly as she ran the numbers. “They’re at the same one light-minute mark that the Republic arrived at. They’re in range of the Republic fleet!”

  Five million–plus kilometers meant that amplifiers or battle lasers were useless, but even police-grade fusion-drive missiles could cross that range. Roslyn didn’t have enough data to say just who had arrived—but neither did the Republic.

  The newcomers hadn’t even opened fire before the Republic battle group vanished in the bright blue flares of outgoing jumps.

  Roslyn waited, letting her scanners drink up the data, then looked up at Mage-Captain Kulkarni.

  “Lead unit is a Dragon-class cruiser flying Amber Defense Cooperative IFFs, sir,” she reported. “Only three ships are under ADC codes, though.”

  “Who are the rest of them?”

  “I’m seeing at least forty different mercenary company codes, sir,” Roslyn told her boss. “Everything from corvettes to guardship-mass medium warships.

  “It seems our Amber friends made it in time after all.”

  47

  “Incoming transmission, my lord,” Rustici announced as Damien breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Put it on screen,” he ordered. The Amberite contingent was still a full light-minute out, regular safe-emergence distance, but they’d spooked the Republic. It was possible that it was over.

  Damien wasn’t counting on it, but it was possible.

  He was relieved to see the stocky figure of Captain David Rice appear on the screen, flanked by an unfamiliar older man in a dull white uniform and a woman Damien knew by image and name. He’d never met Keiko Alabaster, but he knew who she was.

  “Lord Montgomery,” Rice greeted him. “Damien. I’m sorry we’re late. Apparently, if you offer enough money, Amber mercenary companies are willing to take cancellation penalties. We had to stop off at a few places to pick up friends.

  “I hope the wait was worth it,” he finished with a grin. “I also hope you’re going to honor that promise with regards to fees met and service rewarded, because I have promised these folks a lot more money than I am ever going to be able to conjure up on my own!”

  The grin faded.

  “I doubt we’ve seen the last of our friends from the Republic. I make it eleven hours until we’re in orbit, so I’m hoping they’ll give us at least that much. Full specifications on the ADC and mercenary units accompanying me are included in an attachment to this message.”

  Rice shook his head.

  “I’m glad we spooked them, because we couldn’t have won the fight we accidentally courted. On the other hand, I put together a fleet of a hundred and fifty warships. Do I get to call myself an Admiral now?”

  Alabaster gently elbowed him, and the white-uniformed officer coughed.

  “Lord Montgomery, I am Admiral Alistair Casanova from the Amber Defense Cooperative. As Captain Rice has so eloquently put it, most of our companions are here based on the promise of money. And, well, frankly, some of them could probably use pardons, though I’d strongly recommend that they be highly conditional.”

  He shook his head.

  “You should also be aware that the majority of the mercenaries are only carrying Rapier missiles and my own magazines are only loaded with Phoenix VIIs. From the amount of radiation I’m seeing, I guess that you don’t have any munitions to spare to rearm us, so those limitations must be considered in your planning.

  “I look forward to meeting you in person, Lord Montgomery. Your reputation precedes you.”

  The message ended, and Damien chuckled.

  “Damn good to see them,” he said aloud. “Rustici, record for transmission.”

  He faced the camera with a smile of his own.

  “Captain Rice, Admiral Casanova, Ms. Alabaster,” he greeted each of the trio in turn. “The Protectorate is in your debt. I pledged my personal word and the word of our nation that the service called for would be rewarded, and your mercenaries need have no concern. If the ADC could provide me with a listing of each mercenary company’s standard rate for full-hire operations, I will see them compensated…”

  He paused, letting the implication that he would only be paying the standard rate sink in, before his smile widened and he continued.

  “…at, I think, four times that standard rate,” he concluded. That would be expensive, he was sure…but it was cheaper than losing another star system.

  “In any case, I look forward to meeting with the three of you as soon as you make orbit. While I hope that your arrival has sent the Republic running with their tail between their legs, that seems unlikely and we will need to prepare for continued combat operations.”

  He ended the recording, nodding for Rustici to send it, and leaned back in his chair.

  “Mage-Commodore.”

  “My lord?”

  “Are we even going to be able to reload our own magazines?” he asked flatly.

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t think we’re giving the mercenaries missiles.” Damien chuckled again softly. “It’s good to hav
e an excuse. I need them. I don’t necessarily know if I can trust them.”

  From Jakab’s expression, he would have very much doubted the First Hand’s sanity if he had decided to trust Amber’s mercenaries.

  The sheer quantity of ships that David had brought from Amber was deceptive for more reasons than one, Damien realized. The most obvious was the inferiority of the missiles they were carrying. Most of the heavier warships had at least one salvo’s worth of old Phoenix VIs or Phoenix VIIs, but the rest of the missiles aboard the Amber fleet were Rapiers.

  Rapiers were fusion-drive missiles, with a third of the acceleration of the Phoenix VIIIs Damien’s main fleet carried—and roughly the same flight time. Their range was under four million kilometers from rest.

  Then there were simple mass and number of launchers. Sure, the mercenaries and ADC had a hundred and fifty starships, but their total weight was barely a hundred and twenty megatons. David and the ADC command had arrived aboard Rameses, a Dragon-class ship from Tau Ceti.

  At twelve million tons, Rameses was a tenth of the mass of the fleet and almost as large a portion of their firepower. Larger, really, given that the ADC ships were the only ones carrying a full load of antimatter missiles.

  Including the two ADC destroyers, Amber-built copies of the Tau Ceti Lancer design, the Amber force mustered twenty-nine destroyers. There were ten larger ships, too. At four megatons, the Amber-built “heavy destroyers” were on par with the guardships Condor had sent.

  The remaining hundred-plus ships ranged from two hundred thousand-ton ships, specially designed to use pack tactics against Navy destroyers, to seven hundred thousand-ton monitors designed to fight anything smaller than a Navy destroyer.

  A hundred and ten ships that massed less than forty million tons, all told. Their presence wasn’t meaningless—if nothing else, they would fill in a lot of the missile-defense gap that Medici was worrying about—but they weren’t going to contribute to the kind of long-range missile duel this battle had been so far.

  “Those hunter-killers make my teeth itch,” Jakab murmured in Damien’s ear. “Most of the rest are probably at least somewhat legitimate, but those are pirate ships.”

  “I know,” the Hand agreed. “And I’ve all but promised them pardons.” Damien smiled coldly. “We’re also going to use this opportunity to get hyper-detailed scans of them. If they decide to fall back into habits we disapprove of, we’ll be able to find them.”

  Jakab nodded, but he still didn’t look happy.

  “Look on the bright side, Commodore,” the Hand said. “They are the most vulnerable target on the board. If we get into a knife fight, I’ll be glad to have their battle lasers, but right now, they’re going to be screen. And they’re the least likely to survive that role.”

  The Commodore sighed.

  “That might be too cold-blooded, even for me,” he admitted.

  “I have no intention of intentionally sacrificing anyone,” Damien said levelly. “But I’m not going to shed tears for people manning ships designed to murder our Navy.”

  48

  Rhapsody in Purple drifted in an unpowered orbit, closer to Cherbourg than Ardennes and well out of the way of the battle that had taken place. Kelly LaMonte wanted to be pacing her bridge, but informal as Rhapsody’s command structure was, that remained a bad idea for the Captain.

  Instead, she occupied her seat, studying every scanner around her with a watchful eye as she twisted a now-onyx-black strand of hair around her fingers.

  “Should we be bringing up the engines and coming in from the cold?” Jennifer Hilton asked, the stealth ship’s navigator equally locked to her screens. “Milhouse isn’t showing me any trailers from the RIN fleet. It looks like it’s over.”

  Kelly shook her head with a sigh.

  “It’s not over,” she told them. “The Republic jumped out, yes. But they’ll review their sensor data before they keep running, and they’ll realize just how lightweight the force Amber sent is. They couldn’t risk staying in-system with an unknown force in weapons range, and they already had their gunships aboard.”

  “But once they go over their data, they’ll realize it was a bunch of corvettes,” Milhouse agreed. “Hey-diddle-diddle, straight up the middle again, you think?”

  “No. I was surprised enough when they pulled that stunt once,” Kelly admitted. “They had the force for it, but it was setting them up for losses—losses they clearly aren’t willing to take.”

  “So, what then?” her tactical officer asked.

  “Their commander is going to have to decide if she is willing to court a full fleet engagement,” the covert ops Captain replied. “She’s been over-hesitant once already. If her orders are to avoid losses above all else, she’s going to try something clever.”

  “And what exactly are we expecting that to be?” her subordinate said.

  Kelly chuckled softly.

  “If I knew that, the odds of it working would go way down,” she told him. “We’ve got the best view of half the star system from here, and we’re pretty sure the Republic didn’t see us. Keep your eyes open, Milhouse. What we see could make the difference between victory or defeat today.”

  The tactical officer snorted.

  “You do realize that we’re still outmassed by over two hundred million tons, right? I don’t know what I can see that will change that calculation.”

  “Opportunities, Guns,” Kelly said. “I want you to find me opportunities.”

  “To do what?”

  “Ram a battle fleet up the Republic’s ass while they aren’t looking.”

  Despite her fears, Kelly sent most of her crew to their bunks an hour after the Republic fleet retreated. She didn’t know how much time they’d have, but she’d be better off with rested officers than with exhausted ones.

  Not that she was sleeping herself. The Amber fleet was still eleven hours out from Ardennes orbit, and the hairs on the back of her neck were tingling.

  “So, does the Commander ever sleep?” her wife asked, Xi Wu dropping herself into the seat next to her. “The bridge is looking rather empty.”

  “Nothing is going to happen fast enough that I need my crew on deck immediately,” Kelly pointed out. “But someone has to be here, so it’s me.”

  “Right.” Xi’s hand snaked across to squeeze Kelly’s. The Mage didn’t let go, either. “And how far into the center of this are you planning on throwing us?”

  “A long bloody way away, if I can manage it,” Kelly said with a chuckle, squeezing Xi’s hand in turn. “Our job is to be Damien’s eyes and ears, not to take on battleships on our own.”

  “Always good to be sure we know our limits,” Xi replied. “How are you doing on that?”

  “Doing what? Knowing my limits?”

  “Exactly.”

  Kelly sighed.

  “I can keep going for a while yet,” she told her wife. “And someone has to keep their eyes open out here.”

  Xi leaned her head on Kelly’s shoulder.

  “There are over two hundred warships in this system, my love. What makes you think we’re indispensable?”

  “Because we’re the ones the Republic hasn’t seen. The set of eyes they’re not anticipating when they try and be sneaky. They’ve tried to sneak in behind the gas giants before. They may try it again.”

  “That’s not going to do them much good with a fleet.”

  “Maybe not. But just because I’m not seeing it doesn’t mean there isn’t an opportunity there.”

  “Promise me you’ll sleep once Milhouse is up again?” Xi asked. “Someone has to be on watch, but it doesn’t need to be you.”

  “I will,” Kelly promised. “Happy?”

  The Mage snorted.

  “My wife commands a covert operations stealth ship, and my husband commands the flight ops for the shuttles aboard it,” she said. “I’ll be happy when I can wrap you two in cotton wool and keep you safe.”

  “Yes…but I seem to recall someone else in
this marriage being the Ship’s Mage aboard said covert ops ship,” Kelly replied. “Safe isn’t part of our job. We made that decision a long time ago.”

  “I know.” Xi kissed her hand. “Since I can’t get you to rest, I’m going to go fall over. Make sure that our Mage is ready to go when everything comes apart.”

  Kelly nodded and pulled Xi’s hand to her own lips.

  “It’s not over,” she warned quietly.

  “I know. We’ll be ready.”

  Ten hours later, all of Kelly’s bridge crew were back on the bridge, rested and ready. Even she’d managed to get six hours of sleep before returning to the bridge to check on everything.

  The two fleets in-system were an hour away from rendezvous and the system was quiet. No Republican warships, no accidents, no strange reflections off passing meteors, nothing.

  “We’re about ten minutes from Cherbourg eclipsing Ardennes,” Milhouse reported. “We’ll be out of direct communication for an hour after that.”

  Kelly nodded and studied the map. The logistics base was currently on the “inside” of the gas giant, but Rhapsody of Purple was on a long, eccentric orbit. They’d wrap around the outside of the gas giant about ten light-seconds clear.

  “Let’s drop some relays and get them accelerating in the opposite direction,” she ordered. “Make sure we’ve got them dialed in for tightbeams and can reach Ardennes.”

  “Still think this isn’t over, boss?” Milhouse asked. “Surely, if they were coming back…”

  “They’d be waiting to be sure they could jump in and out if they got ambushed,” Kelly replied. “We don’t know what they’re using for FTL, but it seems to follow much the same rules as a Mage jumping. So, we can guess that there’s a cooldown period of some kind involved.

  “Drop the relay, Milhouse.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A new green icon appeared on their screens. The relay dropped with all of Rhapsody’s velocity but rapidly brought up its own engines. Smaller than the ship and not needing to worry about fragile humans, it blasted back along their course at several hundred gravities.