Winds of Vengeance

by Jay Allan

  “Yes, Admiral. Gunnery reports main batteries have ceased fire. Emergency cooling procedures underway.”

  “Very well…launch first pair of missiles.”

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  An instant later Starfire shook lightly. It was barely perceptible, but Strand could feel it.

  She stared at the display, watching the two small dots appear…her two missiles. They moved toward the warp gate, accelerating at maximum, burning their fuel supplies at a rapid rate. But it didn’t matter. They weren’t intended to maneuver, or to target enemy ships specifically. That wouldn’t even be possible in the gravity well of the warp gate. No, they were sprint missiles, fired directly at a point in space, where they would detonate. It took pinpoint targeting to make sprint missiles work in normal combat…but the warp gate’s core was less than ten kilometers in diameter, and that meant the missiles’ lethal zone could cover a good portion of its surface area.

  She felt the ship vibrate again, the next two missiles launching. And two more dots appearing on the display.

  “Admiral, Intrepid reports her missiles are armed and ready to launch.”

  “Very well.” Strand closed her eyes, focusing on the neural connection. It was a little disorienting switching back and forth between interacting with the ship’s AI and snapping orders to her officer. She took a deep breath and centered herself. They’d taught meditation techniques in the Academy when they’d introduced the neural links. But the direct connection to a ship’s AIs was a new system then, still experimental, and she’d only had a brief introduction. She knew the officers now at the Academy would be more comfortable interacting with their AIs…but none of them were with her now, so she had to make the best of it herself.

  “Commander, Intrepid is to commence launching as soon as our tubes are empty. Same procedure, two launches every ten seconds.”

  She turned to look at the display, but then she stopped and closed her eyes again. She didn’t need the screen…all the data was there, pushed right into her mind by the AI. It was fascinating and disturbing, but there was no question she had a better view of what was happening. She could see her missiles, moving toward the warp gate. The lead birds had exhausted their fuel…they were ballistic weapons now, moving forward at close to 0.3c toward their detonation points a few klicks from the warp gate.

  She watched as the lead missiles moved closer…and a new enemy ship slipped out of the warp gate and into normal space. She saw her warheads approaching. She knew it wasn’t the actual events she was seeing, just a recreation the AI was projecting into her mind. She watched the missiles move forward…and then detonate. The first pair bracketed the enemy vessel, one exploding about a kilometer away. That was close enough to cause massive damage, but none of that mattered. Half a second later, the second missile detonated…less than two hundred meters from the enemy vessel.

  The stricken ship was blasted with immense radiation. Its hull was superheated, melting and then vaporizing in a fraction of a second. Strand’s lips moved, morphing slowly into a smile, one that widened as the next enemy ship transiting suffered the same fate. It was working. The two capital ships had enough missiles to bombard the warp gate until their main batteries were cooled and ready to resume fire. That didn’t mean she could hold the warp gate forever…but it definitely extended the time she could last.

  The enemy has to run out of ships eventually…

  Don’t they?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Excerpt from President Compton’s Speech Emergency Declaration

  My fellow residents of the republic, I come to you today on a matter of the greatest importance. As you all know, some time ago we lost contact with the vessel Hurley, which had been assigned to deep space exploration and warp gate cataloguing. In response, I ordered Admiral West to assemble a search and rescue mission, and Admiral Frette took command of the expedition. We have now received word from the admiral, and the news is grave.

  Our forces have been engaged in battle, and they have confirmed the identity of the enemy. Ships of the First Imperium.

  The old enemy has returned, and battle has been joined. I don’t have to remind anyone of the threat First Imperium forces represent, not only to Admiral Frette and her fleet, but also to the very survival of Earth Two and the republic. I cannot help but think of the days of the old fleet’s journey, something many of you will remember, as no one who was there will ever forget. And now, as then, the deadly danger requires decisive action.

  I have signed an executive order, effective immediately, indefinitely postponing the election planned for next month. I know this will be upsetting to many who oppose my continued leadership, but we now face a grave threat, and we cannot now afford the risk of internal dissent. Further, I have declared martial law and suspended the constitution for the duration of the crisis.

  I will address you again when we have more information, and further details on the steps we will be taking to prepare for what we now face.

  To all the people of the republic, Tanks and Natural Borns, Mules, those who support me…and those who have opposed my candidacy…I ask you all to join with me now, to rekindle the spirit that brought us here, that saved the fleet from certain destruction. For we are one, and our differences shrink to insignificance when we are confronted with an outside enemy.

  The republic…forever.

  Navy Headquarters

  Victory City, Earth Two

  Earth Two Date 12.09.30

  “I guess I should be grateful for the First Imperium. They certainly gave me a better reason to seize power than the stuff we came up with.” Harmon’s voice was dark, ominous. His tone wasn’t exactly sarcastic, but his comments were definitely a sort of gallows humor.

  West just nodded. She might have been angry at someone else for making a joke out of mankind’s great enemy. She’d lost too many friends, too many comrades to the First Imperium, Terrance Compton right at the top of that list. But Max Harmon got a pass as far as she was concerned. He’d fought as hard as anyone in the war…and he’d been one of the small group that had infiltrated the enemy home world and destroyed the Regent. Besides, he’d been even closer to Compton than she had been…and he’d been devastated at the admiral’s death.

  “So, what do we do? We have no idea what Nicki Frette and her people are up against. The reports suggest they got through the battle with relatively light damage…but now she’s taken her forces deeper into space, following Hurley’s course.”

  “What can we do? We don’t have anything concrete, at least no actionable data. For all we know, Admiral Frette destroyed the entire enemy force. We have faced such groups since the Regent’s destruction.” Connor Frasier sat along the one edge of the large conference table. He’d had his armor on earlier, prepared for any unrest that might have occurred after Harmon’s speech, but the Marines had things well in hand, and Frasier had taken the chance to ditch the cumbersome suit.

  The streets were quiet, even the political candidates staying out of sight. Harmon had taken no chances…he wasn’t about to allow the politicians running against him to suggest he was lying about the threat. After his speech, he’d broadcast the footage Frette had sent back, scenes that left no doubt, none at all, including visual images that chilled the blood of every pilgrim watching. Human forces had again faced those of the First Imperium.

  The younger residents of Earth Two had been raised to fear the First Imperium above all things, to view the ancient robots like some kind of bogey men, something fit for nightmares but not to face in reality. And for the Pilgrims it was even worse. The republic’s older residents had already faced the forces of the terrible enemy…and they knew the horror was real.

  “We haven’t been attacked in more than twenty years.” Erika West’s tone was no less dark than Harmon’s had been, perhaps more so. “There is something different this time. The fleet is out there…facing God knows what…”

  “You think she made a mistake, don’t you? You think s
he should have turned back.”

  West forced herself to look back at Harmon. “Yes, sir…” Another pause. “I don’t know, sir…I’m just worried…”

  Harmon nodded, giving West a sympathetic glance. “Nicki knows what she is doing, Erika. She can take care of her people…and herself.” He said the words, but he wasn’t sure he believed it. He owed his life to Frette, and she was among those few he counted among his true friends, but he found himself wishing West was with the fleet instead. For all her skill and courage, he knew Frette was treading new ground…while West had more than her share of fleet command experience. He scolded himself for sending Frette, for not taking the threat seriously enough.

  West just nodded, looking just as uncertain as Harmon felt.

  “I’m also concerned about these minor discrepancies in ship masses and designs. Are these newer ships than the ones we fought before? Or older ones that had been deployed on this far frontier?” Harmon wasn’t expecting an answer, but he looked around the table anyway, gauging reactions.

  “It seems we have two choices. Do we send reinforcements to Admiral Frette, another fleet to meet her forces…and bring them back to Earth Two? Or do we stand here, prepare our defenses…and wait to see what happens?”

  West fidgeted in her seat, but she didn’t answer. Harmon knew what she wanted to say. West was a fighter, and her every instinct would drive her to offensive action. But it was more than just that. West’s thoughts would be on Nicki Frette. She would want to go to the aid of her lover, that was a natural enough reaction on its own, but he suspected there was more. He guessed that West was also afraid Frette was in over her head, that if no aid was sent, she would die…and the fleet would be destroyed. He guessed she was thinking that for a simple reason. He was thinking it too.

  “My first impulse is to send a relief force. We do not leave our people out there alone, not when we have the strength to come to their aid. It is not who we are. I learned that at the side of Admiral Compton, and I know if he were here with us, he would send the fleet.” Harmon paused, his eyes dropping from West’s gaze to the floor. “But the admiral would have thought of his duty to Earth Two as well, to the people of the republic. If we send another significant fleet, will we have enough to defend our home system if we are attacked? Admiral Frette took a significant percentage of our active and commissioned ships…sending another force that size would gut the Home Fleet.

  “Our fixed defenses are strong, sir. Even with a skeletal fleet remaining, we can protect ourselves.” Connor Frasier spoke tentatively. Harmon suspected Frasier considered naval affairs outside his area of expertise, but he also knew the Marine believed one thing to his core. You didn’t forsake your people when they were in trouble. It was almost a religion to the Marines. He knew Frasier would support a relief mission…but he wasn’t sure how much he should listen to his old friend’s words. The Marines would always choose death over dishonor, but Harmon was responsible for the life of every man and woman in the republic, and his position denied him such noble stands.

  “Perhaps, Connor…but we are talking about gambling the lives of every man and woman on Earth Two.” Harmon paused…then he turned his head as the door to the conference room opened.

  Hieronymus Cutter came walking through, followed by Ana Zhukov…and Achilles and H2.

  “Achilles, thank you for coming.” Harmon stood up, extending his hand, not entirely sure how the Mule would react. The two had been commanding opposing forces on the verge of combat…but immediately after declaring martial law, Harmon had ordered the Marines to stand down, and to fall back several kilometers from the compound. It had been a difficult decision, a show of faith, an attempt to defuse a conflict he knew should never have happened. He’d been nervous about what the Mules would do, but that concern only lasted a moment before he saw the battle bots also pulling back. Achilles’ response had been immediate, and he had answered Harmon’s good faith gesture with one of his own. After that, the two men had resolved their issues with a com session. The peace still hung on each man’s willingness to honor their word, but each one had decided to trust the other.

  “Of course, Mr. President. It seems we have a major problem; one I trust my people can help to resolve.” Harmon noted the Mule’s use of his title.

  Another gesture…if Achilles really wanted the Mules to be independent, he wouldn’t call me ‘president.’

  Harmon picked up a small tablet and handed it to Achilles. “The repeal of the Prohibition, as promised.” Harmon paused. “And my apologies. This should have happened years ago.”

  The Mule reached out, took the small device, glancing at it for a second, perhaps two. “That is the last we need speak of it, President Harmon. What is past is past…and it seems our true problem now is what lies ahead. As has so often been the case in human history, an external threat has made our own disputes seem unimportant.”

  “Again, thank you, Achilles.” His eyes looked past the Mule toward the others. “Hieronymus, Ana, H2…please sit. We need everything you all have to offer.” He turned his head, looked toward the others at the table. “We have been discussing whether to send reinforcements to Admiral Frette…or whether to concentrate what forces remain here to defend against any attack that may come.”

  Achilles sat at one of the empty chairs toward the end of the table. “I believe there is one thing we must consider…forgive me if this has already been discussed…” The Mule paused for a second. “My studies of the war against the First Imperium, and the conflicts back in human space, are noteworthy for the lack of the enemy’s use of weapons of mass destruction against planetary targets…even in response to the coalition’s employment of such ordnance.”

  Achilles looked around the table. Everyone else was silent, clearly wondering where he was going with his point.

  “The same was true during the fleet’s journey across the imperium…and our study of First Imperium records holds the answer. The Regent, as sophisticated and capable as it was, operated in accordance with a number of directives. This may seem an unlikely fact, to our perspective, and likely that of the Ancients themselves when the Regent turned on them, but it is nonetheless true. And one of the primary directives prohibited the use of nuclear and antimatter warheads against imperial worlds. Indeed, look at the ruins the fleet encountered on so many planets. There was widespread destruction, ruins ravaged by the passage of time, even the remnants of the biological warfare designed to kill the Ancients themselves. But no radioactive wastelands, no worlds bombarded into lifelessness.”

  “What you say is true, Achilles. Indeed, the unwillingness of the First Imperium to use such weapons became a major component of coalition strategy during the war.” Harmon wasn’t sure where Achilles was going, but everything the Mule had said so far was correct. “What do you believe we can draw from these facts? That the First Imperium will not bombard Earth Two?”

  “No, sir…quite the contrary. My point is simply this. Every analysis we have done, every review of the records left behind by the Ancients suggests one fact irrefutably. The last of the warriors of the Ancients chose this world…they selected it for many reasons, its climate, its resources…and its location. Outside the borders of the imperium.” Achilles paused, his words hanging in the air.

  Harmon stared back at the Mule. “Are you suggesting the First Imperium forces would not be bound by their previous restrictions. That they would attack Earth Two with weapons of mass destruction?”

  Achilles looked back across the table. “I am saying we must consider that a significant possibility. Even a probability.”

  “So, you believe we should hold the fleet back to protect Earth Two against such an attack?”

  Achilles sat motionless. “No, sir, I am proposing precisely the opposite. We should take the offensive, seek out and engage the enemy as far from Earth Two as possible…and do everything we can to ensure the war is fought far from here.”

  “I’m not sure I understand your logic, Achilles.�
��

  “We are not a world, Mr. President, though we possess one. Ninety-six percent of the population lives in Victory City, or within fifteen kilometers of it. The enemy does not need to conduct an extensive bombardment to depopulate the republic. A single antimatter warhead will destroy almost all our physical constructions…and at least nineteen out of twenty of our people. One shot, one missile slipped through the planetary defenses, and the war is lost.”

  “Doesn’t that make it all the more crucial to concentrate our forces here? To defend at all costs to prevent such an attack from succeeding?”

  Achilles shook his head slowly. “I understand your impulse, Mr. President, but I urge you to consider the facts in greater detail. First Imperium ships have maximum acceleration rates well beyond even those in our newest vessels. Their apparent access to large quantities of antimatter—something that seems to be confirmed by Admiral Frette’s report—allows them to attain maximum thrust of nearly 100g. They have demonstrated their willingness to sacrifice ships in suicide assaults to attain tactical goals. I believe it is unlikely that we could reliably protect Earth Two from a deadly missile attack, even if every ship of the fleet was held back on the defensive.”

  Achilles turned toward West. “Admiral West, have you considered the tactical problem of dealing with a massive enemy attack, say several hundred ships, that emerge and accelerate at maximum thrust toward Earth Two? Could your forces—and the planetary defense systems—intercept every ship before any are able to fire against the planet? And could you intercept every missile they launch?”

  West exhaled softly. “I have never reviewed such a scenario, Achilles.” She paused uncomfortably. “But I am inclined to agree with Achilles’ concerns. If a large force attacked, it is unlikely we could intercept every ship and every missile. If a massive enough force attacked, it would trend toward mathematical certainty that one would manage to get a missile through…particularly since their own survival in the attempt does not appear to be a priority.”