“Enemy contacts! It looks like the resupply convoy but they jumped in at least an hour away at normal drive speeds, Sir!” reported the Sensor Operator.
I frowned. The enemy was a little farther out than I would have liked. I could send fast-jumping Cutters and Corvettes over in 18 minutes and 35 minutes, respectively, but Destroyers jumped at right around the hour mark. It would almost be faster to run them over in normal drive, while the rest of our Cruisers and Battleships followed along behind. But something about that plan sat poorly with me.
I didn’t want to split my fleet into what would be essentially three groups, with each ship type out of range from each other. I was willing to do that last time, but even if the Imperials didn’t know we had intercepted their supply convoy’s itinerary, they had to know I was gunning for them and after our attack on their Task Force 3. It was a certainty they’d take countermeasures.
I straightened in my chair and leaned forward.
“Rear Admiral Dark Matter wants to know the plan of attack,” Lieutenant Steiner reported, “he’s demanding to speak with you, Admiral.”
I shot a look over at Dark Matter’s command. All 29 of his Sub-Formation Three’s warships were still holding formation around the Rear Admiral’s Battleship, but they’d started to drift forward. Like dogs pulling at the leash, it wouldn’t take much for them to slip free and lunge at the prey in their sight.
“Inform the Rear Admiral he’ll have to wait,” I told her and then turned away. “In the meantime, I want to know everything there is to know about that supply convoy. If they so much as squart I want to know about it.”
I could see Tactical Officer Hart and Captain Hammer exchange significant looks, but unless they were about to rise up in bloody mutiny I didn’t have time for them either.
“Sensors, where is that convoy’s protective detail?” I demanded, my eyes roving over the scan returns.
“Admiral, I’m reading a pair of Corvettes to the fore and aft of the supply train,” said the Sensor Officer, shooting a map of the convoy with the highlighted images of the Corvettes on it.
“Interesting,” I mused while scratching my chin.
“Admirals Silverback and Dark Matter are both asking when you’re going to give the order to jump or advance. Silverback is being quite insistent, Sir,” reported Steiner. “Problem, Sir?” asked Hammer.
I hesitated and then decided to take her into my confidence. “There must be over thirty large freighters in there,” I said, pointing at the convoy.
“Thirty four,” Hammer interrupted, “if you aren’t counting the other ships.”
“Yes, the Corvettes,” I accepted the correction without missing a beat, “thirty four large freighters, presumably packed to the brim with supplies for their fleet, and yet for such a large and important supply run they only have four Corvettes—and of a design, I’ll note, that we haven’t seen before?”
“That’s not entirely surprising, sir,” Hammer pointed out.
I cocked my head and motioned for her to go on. “Even back in my day,” as soon as she said that, Lieutenant-Commander Leonora Hammer looked distant for a moment and then she shook it off, “they were fazing them out. The Imperials never really liked Corvettes; they thought that, as a class, they were too small and ineffective. I’ve done some reading and in the time between when I went into the freezer and when I came out, they’ve almost entirely removed anything smaller than a Destroyer from the standing fleets. Oh, they’ve kept a few around for specialty niches like infiltration missions and garrison duty. But they sold off the rest to private individuals and the provinces.”
“I see,” I demurred. This was a new take on it that I hadn’t even known to ask about, “But even so, I’m not entirely sure how that signifies it could be SOP?”
“I’m not sure it does, but since we’re dealing with former Imperials—or maybe even current Imperials, at this point who knows—then they’re going to have a Imperial’s scorn for Corvettes,” she said.
“I take your point…but it only seems to reinforce my own. Why would they send so few of a ship type they disdain to defend a convoy this size, especially when it’s supposedly so important?” I asked.
“I guess I’m just pointing out that using Corvettes for convoy defense wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. The opposite would in fact be true; I’d expect them to use Corvettes for something like escorting freighters during the middle of a war,” she said after a moment’s thought.
“But only four?” I asked.
She frowned. “That does seem to be a little strange,” she replied, “maybe they were attacked along the way, or the rest of they send part of the convoy screen ahead and due to jump cycle times the other half catches up afterwards?”
“That sounds more likely than anything I’ve heard so far,” I said, but with a lack of anything obviously wrong I had to make a decision. I either jumped in with both feet, trying to take a bite at the low-hanging fruit in front of me, or I let it pass…and letting it pass just didn’t seem to be in the cards.
Although the supply convoy felt unusually short of what I would consider sufficient escort ships, from the increasingly distorted look of my subordinate’s sub-formations it looked like either I gave the order and tried to control the attack, or I let them run amok and chip away at my authority until I was the leader of this fleet in name only.
Right or wrong, I had to act. Inaction would lead to the disintegration of my command.
Firmly committed, I leaned forward in the chair.
“Enemy warships seem to be panicking they must have spotted us, Sir! They’re diving into the star system to try and get away before we can short-jump to their location,” exclaimed the Sensor section before I could issue any orders, “they’re trying to get within the hyper limit.”
I sat bolt upright in surprise. “New order to the fleet: all ships are to maintain position around the Flagship,” I instructed and then turned to the Hammer. “Captain, lay in a pursuit course for the convoy and bring the Royal Rage up to maximum speed on the normal space drive.”
“Aye, Sir.” the Captain and the Comm. Officer replied.
“You aren’t going to want to send the Corvettes and Cutters ahead with a coordinated short jump?” Hammer asked in a low voice.
“No. They can’t reach the convoy before the freighters and their escorts move inside the hyper limit, and the freighters are relatively slow. We can catch up to them easily enough once we’re inside the limit,” I explained seriously. “There’s no need to split the fleet just yet, and since they’re moving they can’t jump anytime soon.”
“You’re the Admiral,” she said with a shrug and turned back to her console. However, I noted her looking at me out of the corner of her eye once when she thought I wasn’t watching, but the second time when I glanced over I saw her giving me an enigmatic look.
With a mental shrug, I turned away. I could almost understand why the convoy headed into the system instead of staying still and charging their hyper drives. It wouldn’t save them in the long run; their escort warships were too weak to stand off more than fifty Corvettes and Cutters if they stood still and tried to charge their hyper drive. Their lives, or at least their freedom, would be extended a short time but…
It’s not that I couldn’t understand the determination to fight until the very end, or to not go gently into that good night. There was also a slight—and I mean slight—chance that if they all split into different directions, one of the freighters could get away. I mean, it wasn’t a very good chance considering I had three ships for every one of theirs but it was a chance. However, on the off-chance they knew something I didn’t, I was going to hold off breaking my ships up for a general pursuit until after we moved inside the hyper limit. Then we’d see.
“Admiral! The Corvettes of Sub-Formation Two are reversing thrust; they’ve started charging their hyper drives,” reported Sensors.
“Unacceptable,” I snapped, “Lieutenant Steiner, message to the
Corvettes of Sub-2. They are to rejoin formation and continue to the hyper limit with the rest of the fleet.”
“I have Admiral Silverback on the line, Sir,” she said quickly. “He’s demanding to speak with you.”
I suddenly changed my mind. “Relay the message directly to the Admiral Silverback, Lieutenant,” I growled. I’d save a direct appeal to those Corvettes as a last measure and do what I should have done from the beginning followed the chain of command. “Copy it to corvettes at the same time.”
Steiner turned back to her console, “Message relayed.”
“No response from the Corvettes, Admiral,” Tactical Officer Hart helpfully pointed out after several seconds.
“The Admiral says he’ll take it under advisement as he continues to direct his sub-formation, Sir,” Steiner added.
I smiled to hide my now clenched teeth. “Inform Silverback that I will speak to him as soon as his Corvettes start moving and not before,” I said. These were exactly the times when I really wished I wasn’t the leader of a coalition force. I didn’t outnumber or outgun my sub-formation leaders, so I couldn’t force them to follow my orders and I had no close ties with the home governments of their leaders. All I had was a reputation for tyranny and success—thanks to the Cosmic News Network—and the moral authority that came with being the appointed leader of the Grand Fleet.
While being the proper leader was helpful, it felt a thin reed to rely on. As for the reputation, it looked like I was going to have to see how far it would take me after all.
“The Corvettes are still falling behind, Sir,” reported Hart.
I nodded. “We continue as planned,” I said as if nothing were wrong, when in fact we were experiencing a near-mutiny of fifteen corvettes. ‘Mutiny’ might be too strong; the chain of command told them to follow the orders of the Admiral in command of their sub-formation instead of the Admiral in charge of the Fleet as a whole. And, technically, I had merely relayed to them an order I’d given to their commander. I hadn’t directly ordered them to do anything…yet.
Steiner listened to something in her ear and winced, casting me a look as she continued to listen before eventually looking away.
Silverback. The man was testing me. The only question currently was whether I was going to pull a rabbit out of my hat or give into his demands. On general principle, I hated doing what my enemies—in this case, a politically-minded subordinate—wanted. However, I was all out of rabbits.
I knew what the man wanted: more say in how this fleet was run. But I would be good and blasted before I allowed any formation with me at the top to be run by committee.
Unfortunately, it looked like I just might have to be good and blasted. As little as I could afford to have my authority tested like it currently was, I might have to compromise in private and throw the other man a bone.
Unless….
My eyes narrowed and I smiled. It might fail just as spectacularly as my first attempt, but this latest thought was worth a shot.
“General message to the fleet: due to enemy actions and the need for tactical flexibility, I am taking the fleet to Tactical Formation Beta 2. All affected ships are to signal your understanding and compliance with these orders,” I commanded. After making sure Steiner had the message and was transmitting it, I continued, “Get me Commodore Kling. Now.”
A moment later and the Commodore appeared on my screen. “What do you need from me, Admiral?” the Commodore asked cautiously, keeping whatever he really thought about the current situation carefully hidden.
“Only what we’d originally planned if we activated Formation Beta. Take control of those Corvettes, Commodore,” I said my eyes drilling into him, “and then move Sub-4 in front of the main fleet and just as we originally planned; we’ll use them as a screening force.” It was a big task I was giving the man, but I knew he was the man for the job. If I was wrong, it was time to eat some humble pie and talk to Silverback.
His face suddenly hard, Commodore Kling nodded.
“Aye, Sir,” he said before cutting the connection.
None of the Corvettes in the Grand Fleet belonged to Aegis; they were all from small fry worlds, powers that didn’t dare offend the big boys. To this point they could say that they had stayed out of any ‘confusion’ at the top by strictly following the orders handed down by their chain of command, but it was time they made a choice.
They needed to remember I wasn’t just the titular head of the Grand Fleet—I was one of the big boys too. I’d had enough of powerless, ceremonial fleet commands with my last one, so they could either anger Silverback—and maybe Aegis as well—or they could obey orders and do what I blasted well told them to do.
Now I had to wait.
For a long minute, nothing happened. Then a pair of the fifteen Corvettes that had been preparing to short jump after the convoy moved.
“The Corvettes that are moving have stopped charging their hyper drives,” reported Sensors.
I sucked my teeth as I watched and nodded. Then five more Corvettes moved and a split second later, as if a dam had broken, and all but one of the corvettes started accelerating to best speed in order to catch up with the rest of the fleet. It was almost half a minute later that the final Corvette belatedly went to full burn and hurried to catch up with the rest of its squadron mates.
I clenched my fist and stuck up my thumb. “Tell the Commodore that was excellent work, Lieutenant,” I instructed and then turned. As if it was an afterthought, I added idly, “Someone please get me the name of the Captain and ship registry for that last Corvette, then forward the information to me electronically for review after the battle.”
“Yes, Sir,” said Lieutenant Hart while Steiner was busy speaking into the microphone along her jaw. I waited until there was a short lull in the Comm. Section and caught her eye.
“You may now inform the Aegis Admiral that I am ready to speak with him, Lieutenant,” I informed her and then added, “and, in the interest of full disclosure, make sure I’m speaking to him on an open channel—encrypted so only our fleet can hear it, but not otherwise restricted.”
Steiner gulped and then, looking a little wide-eyed, bobbed her head quickly and started to set up the conference call.
I wondered what exactly Silverback had been saying to cause such a reaction from her, and as I did so I had to work to keep a frown from forming on my face.
“Two seconds, Sir,” she said and then, right on time, the ugly mug of Admiral Silverback appeared on my screen. Well…it’s not as much that he was ugly as that I didn’t care for his personality, and I happened to be in an ugly mood at the moment.
“Montagne!” he snapped, red creeping down his neck and his words next door to curse.
“Admiral Silverback. As promised, now that confusion with the Corvettes has cleared away, I am free to speak with you,” I said, forcing a congenial expression, even while on the inside I couldn’t help a small amount of gloating. Take that! I silently sent out to obstructive Admirals everywhere.
Still, it was an important idea to be generous in peace and congenial in victory, even if the other side didn’t deserve it. That idea, in my mind, went right along with the maxim that ‘death is never too good for my enemies.’
“You go too far, Montagne!” he growled in a rising voice, clearly struggling to keep his voice on the right side of proper. It was never good to shout at your superior after all.
“I go too far, Admiral?” I asked coolly my eyes sharpening, even as I made it a point to use his rank when speaking to him.
“Those Corvettes were a part of my formation, they properly belong under my command! You had no right to take them…” he said, and then reluctantly added as if the word was dragged out of his mouth by an amateur dentist, “Sir.”
“I see you have finally remembered the proper way to address a superior officer,” I said flatly, “but, correct me if I’m wrong: as far as I’m aware none of the warships in Sub-formation 4 came from Aegis, and thus were never unde
r your command until I assigned them to you.”
“I will not be lectured to by the most wanted criminal in known space—a man not even half my age,” Silverback said glaring at me.
“Not that it would matter even if they did fly the Aegis Flag,” I continued, as if I hadn’t even heard him, “since, as the duly-appointed Grand Fleet commander, the disposition of the various warships into formations and squadrons is under my exclusive purview.”
“If you think for even a moment—” snapped the other Admiral.
“You forget yourself, Admiral Silverback,” I shouted over him.
“Just who do you think you are? This Fleet would be nothing without Aegis and the other Core Worlds,” Silverback demanded right back. “If we withdraw then this fleet falls apart at the seams. First you pass by a golden opportunity to catch the freighters before they could try to run, forcing us to waste time and fuel expenses chasing them down, and now you just think you can reassign the ships of my formation whenever you blasted well feel like it? You’d better figure out—”
“I understand if you’re embarrassed you weren’t able to keep all the ships assigned to your group in formation—despite what was clearly your best effort to follow my orders—yet Commodore Kling managed the same job in a fraction of the time,” I said in a deliberately pitying voice before, continuing in a tone that suggested I was attempting to cheer him up. “They were, as I have pointed out, not members of the Aegis SDF. There’s no shame in admitting you simply weren’t up the job of handling a multi-world force.”
“Shame?” Silverback barked, turning completely livid. “The only one who’s going to be ashamed is you—”
Just at that moment there was an alarm from the Sensor Section, almost exactly 35 minutes after the resupply convoy jumped into the star system.
“Contact! I’m reading multiple contacts arriving from jump space and they look to be arriving in formation around the original location point of the freight convoy,” reported the Lieutenant at Sensors in a tension-filled voice. “Early returns indicate the ship sizes roughly correspond with known Reclamation Fleet warship classes and not general freighter classes.”
Admiral's War Part One Page 26
