by John Carr
“I know that my First Rank will value such a commitment. Of course, as commander of this operation, he will make all decisions as to the disposition of the forces under his command, and as he sees fit.”
Emory nodded. “Naturally. I believe the - suggestion - was meant to reinforce Dannevar’s intent, like my own, to simply - emulate - your First Rank’s methods to ensure the operation’s success.”
Althene sent a look of understanding. As the steward returned to refill their cups, she added: ”Do you know, he has never lost a naval engagement of which he was in command?”
“Yes.” Emory kept the irony from her voice, but her eyes said that there was a first time for everything.
Fifteen
Alone in his office, Diettinger reviewed the files he had been working on for the better part of a week. Detailed operational and strategic plans for the invasion of the Imperial capital of Sparta. Every reserve of Sauron troops and materiel were committed, every facet of Sauron’s commerce was harnessed to the operation. The remainder of the Fleet, which High Command assumed was even now subjugating Tanith, was estimated and accounted for. Every one of the Allies who had joined in Sauron’s Declaration of Secession; several Outworld coalitions; even a Claimant fleet of respectable size had been secured, from a world whose governor had been promised that his dubious Imperial bloodline would assure him the title of Emperor in the puppet regime which Sauron would install after victory.
The plan was finished, ready for his briefing to the High Command in the morning. And Diettinger knew it would all be for nothing if the Imperials at Tanith had fought Morgenthau the way they had fought against him.
He reached for his drink, missed and struck the container, spilling some, still clumsy from the loss of stereoscopic vision. The first treatment for regeneration of his eye was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, immediately upon conclusion of his briefing, and he was frankly eager to have the whole thing over with. Movement in the orbit of Sauron caught his eye, and he turned to look out the viewport.
Besides his own heavy cruiser Fomoria, the only other vessels currently in orbit at the Homeworld were Emory’s Damaris and the Keegan under Dannevar, both full battleships. Despite the similarity in their designs, Diettinger nevertheless fancied it was the Keegan which he now saw, moving across its arc over the northern continents, gleaming with reflected light which was itself reflected from the Homeworld below.
All is at peace, Diettinger thought. Tomorrow I will deliver the plans that will send us all - Dannevar, Emory, myself and whoever is left - to our deaths. Simply because the High Command will not listen...
There was a spark in the sky outside.
Diettinger frowned; a brief flare in the darkness, then another, three in all. Instinctively, his hand slapped the communications link on his desk.
“Communications here, First Rank.”
“Traffic Control.”
Boyle had learned; Diettinger’s commo panel began sounding instantly.
“ -ders or you will be fired on. This is Sauron Traffic Control -”
Another sweep of Diettinger’s hand cut the signal. With a speed possible only for a Sauron, he was on the bridge and securing the straps of his acceleration couch. “Sensor status.”
“Phase array bearing on signals, First Rank.” The hands of the sensor station duty officer were a blur across his board. In response, Fomoria’s main detection array sought out the vessels Diettinger had seen appear at one of Sauron System’s six Alderson Points.
“Navigation.”
“First Rank.”
“Set course for the Dropshot Alderson Point and hold. Stand by to initiate flve-G thrust.”
“Five-G thrust, affirm.” Navigation sounded an alarm that notified Fomoria’s crew of imminent high-thrust maneuvers.
“Engineering.”
“First Rank.”
“Stand by to provide five-G thrust on signal from Navigation.”
“Five-G’s affirm. Standing by.”
“Communications.”
“F...First Rank.” Boyle actually stuttered; Diettinger changed completely when the Fomoria went into battle; flesh and blood metamorphosed into something metallic. Boyle sometimes wondered if the First Rank wasn’t part Cyborg.
“Restore Traffic Control signal.”
Traffic Control had ceased to attempt contact with the incoming vessels; their time, literally, had run out. The Fomoria’s bridge crew now listened as the Homeworld’s defense systems began vectoring small craft and missile boats to intercept the intruders.
Diettinger kept looking down, over Communications Rank Boyle’s shoulder; the signal panel still showed no sign that the Sauron Naval Command wanted to talk to him. Are they Sauron ships, then? he wondered. “Full tactical.”
The walls of Fomoria’s bridge, her floor and ceiling all but disappeared, replaced by the panorama of Sauron’s System spread out around them. The Homeworld loomed above, while directly ahead, several bright flashes of blue light converged on Alderson Point Three.
Diettinger tapped his controls; targeting reticules swept across the holographic images, stopped over the glowing pinpoints of slowly moving light, then began to travel with them.
Diettinger trapped the area around the reticules and enlarged the image. Six Dragon-class system defense boats - little more than maneuvering engines, Langston Fields and missile racks - were closing at high-G acceleration to engage three identical class starships of moderate size.
And all three starships were Imperial.
“First Rank.” Boyle’s eyes flickered to the signal panel.
“Speak.”
“Signal from NavCom.”
“Open. Fomoria here, Diettinger commanding.”
“Your vessel, the Keegan, the Damaris, and System Defense Force 980 now comprise Task Force Fomoria, Proceed immediately to Alderson Point Three. Intercept three Imperial vessels at that position. Engage and destroy.”
No confirmation of orders was expected or required; the Communications Rankers and their planetside Naval Command counterparts confirmed transmission and receipt almost automatically. Which freed Diettinger that many precious fractions of a second sooner:
“Signal Keegan and Damaris. Patch in the Dragon squadron leader.”
All of the commanders responded visually. The System Defense Squadron Leader was facing away from the screen, coordinating the initial attacks on the Imperial vessels. The first minutes after enemy ships emerged from an Alderson Point were crucial, as system defense forces attempted to inflict as much damage as possible on the intruders before their crews had fully recovered from the disorienting effects of Jump Lag. The best advantage lay in being close enough to an emergent vessel to attack before its systems and crews had recovered, but that was the height of good fortune, and such was not the case today. The intruders were far beyond weapon range.
They would not be for long.
Diettinger was surprised at first to see his own Second Rank on the bridge of the Damaris, then remembered she was visiting First Rank Emory for dinner. That was bad for the Fomoria; Second Rank was his most able tactical commander.
“Keegan; take up position three thousand kilometers port of Fomoria to bracket the intruders. Damaris; move to position between the intruders and the Jump Point. Commit all of Damaris’ Jump Point mines along the Alderson Point arc.”
Emory cocked an eyebrow. “Confirm signal, please, Fomoria; all of Damaris’ mines?”
“Confirmed. Under no circumstances are any of the intruders to be allowed to escape back through the Jump Point. All vessels of this task force are expendable for this consideration. Fomoria out.”
Diettinger had seen the look in his Second Rank’s eyes at his last order. There was nothing to be done. Reconnaissance reports from the intercepting Dragons told him that the three Imperial intruders matched the description of similar vessels recorded by sensors during Fomoria and Damaris’ escape from Tanith System. The fresh damage they bore on entry into Sauron
space, and the known lack of Sauron naval assets anywhere else, meant they could only have come directly from the battle in the Tanith System. That meant the Imperials controlled the Tanith Jump Point, and that meant they had won. Should even one of these three ships escape to relate the paucity of Sauron defenses, the entire Imperial Fleet at Tanith would descend upon the Sauron System, as fast as they could get through the Alderson Points between there and Sauron.
But if they were all destroyed here, on this side of the Alderson Point, the Imperials would have to assume that Sauron’s defenses were too strong to risk attacking them without reinforcement. Diettinger was trying to buy time for the Homeworld, at any price.
“Vessel assessment.” It was Fomoria’s Weapons Ranker.
“Speak.”
“Three cruisers, Imperial Canopus class. All have suffered battle damage. Estimate offensive capabilities reduced thirty percent overall.”
But heavily shielded, Diettinger knew. Canopus class ships were pre-Secession War, designed for commerce raiding. Multiple redundancies in their Langston Field capacitors allowed them to suffer tremendous punishment by escort vessels and still engage the cargo ships.
Any doubt he might have had regarding the mission of these Imperial ships was removed. They can only be a scouting force. Even as he formed the thought, one of the reticules on the display flickered, drawing attention to itself, and began to move.
“Enemy vessel Canopus Two initiating maneuvers, First Rank.”
Two of the Dragon system defense boats detached themselves from their attacks and altered position. Both loosed volleys of torpedoes against the Imperial designated “Canopus Two,” while continuing to maneuver themselves between the Imperial and the Jump Point. Dozens of white flares danced over the surface of Canopus Two’s Langston Field, each such flare a twenty-megaton infusion of destructive power designed to drive the target’s Field up through the spectrum into Violet and out of existence. Canopus Two’s Langston Field rose no further than a dreary terra cotta that looked almost bored.
Diettinger watched the Damaris, the only ship of his ad hoc task force capable of engaging the moving Imperial before it re-entered the Jump Point.
Maybe.
Diettinger checked the identification codes on the Tactical Display. “Communications.”
“First Rank.”
“Wide band link to Task Force.”
Boyle was so surprised he nearly hit the wrong panel; broadband was unsecured communications, and so was never, ever used in action against an enemy, who could always be presumed to be listening for just such a mistake.
But he had learned, at long last, that Fomoria and her First Rank had their own rules, so Communications Fifth Rank Boyle followed the order without hesitation.
And so saved the day.
“Keegan and Dragons Three through Six,” Diettinger slowed his speech in the Battle Tongue to just faster than a human norm ear could follow; the Imperials would have to run it through their computers for syntax as well as translation. “Concentrate fire with Fomoria on Canopus One. Damaris, initiate ram course.”
Damaris’ course changed with a lurch, and the great battleship bore down on Canopus Two as it crawled toward the Jump Point. The impact would cripple the Damaris for good, even if she survived. Of the Canopus, there would not be enough left to register on sensors.
Canopus One hung motionless for another three minutes, then began to move.
“Canopus One withdrawing; Canopus Three advancing to shadow.”
‘Shadowing’ would place Canopus Three between the Saurons and Canopus One, where Three’s fresh, black Langston Field could take the brunt of the attack Diettinger had ordered while Canopus One could cool its own Field. Once Canopus One’s Field was black once more, the two ships would trade places again, constantly leap-frogging back toward the Jump Point and escape. Diettinger’s numerical superiority would render such a tactic ineffective, given time to maneuver into an encirclement of the two ships, but time was something he did not have.
Diettinger watched the Damaris closing on Canopus Two, all her weapons pouring destruction into the retreating Imperial’s Field. A digital counter was suspended in midair beside the Damaris on the Fomoria’s Tactical display; seconds to impact. The display was green, indicating a collision could still be easily averted. As the minutes flowed past, the digits would warm to a crimson inevitability, and Damaris would very likely die.
Diettinger had no desire to sacrifice Damaris or her crew, or his own Second Rank; but he also had few options.
Canopus One had almost disappeared behind Three, both ships still moving backward as their Navigation Rankers - for some unknown reason, the Imperials called them ‘Sailing Masters’ - searched for the elusive thread of spatial displacement that revealed the Alderson Point through which they had come.
The readout beside Damaris was now yellow.
Diettinger checked to see that the broadband line was still open. “Navigation.”
“First Rank.”
“Intercept and ram Canopus Three. Communications, signal Keegan to ram Canopus One; Dragons, stand by to destroy any surviving fragments of Imperial vessels.”
“Affirm, Fomoria” The acknowledgments came back and the thrusters of the Fomoria and Keegan began firing.
On the screen before him, Diettinger saw that the herald of Damaris’ demise had gone to a warm amber, when the orange bubble of Canopus Two abruptly surged away from the oncoming Sauron battleship and hopelessly out of position to flee through the Jump Point.
Diettinger saw that his gamble was beginning to pay off. Imperials were just as willing to sacrifice themselves in battle as Saurons - often, he knew, even more so - but now it was important that at least one of these ships survive to escape Sauron System and carry back the news of what it had seen. It was just as important for the Saurons to prevent that, and while the Saurons could afford to sacrifice vessels to their purpose, the Imperials, by definition, could not.
Nor were any of the Canopus class ships as yet in position to make such a sacrifice as would ensure the escape of any of the others.
That was not the case for the Saurons, however, and the Damaris began the laborious process of changing vectors to come about and, once again, attempt to ram Canopus Two.
Canopus One and Three, meanwhile, found themselves literally between a rock - the Fomoria - and a hard place - the much larger Keegan. ‘Shadowing’ was not an easy operation at the best of times, and the incoming Saurons were pressing the two ships in upon one another, reducing their maneuvering room. Now Fomoria and Keegan had their own digital countdowns-to-impact with the Imperials.
Diettinger suspected he was the only Sauron who knew how dangerous the game he was playing truly was. He had fully intended that the Imperials should hear and decipher his commands to the Task Force, as he had no doubts they were willing to sacrifice themselves to get one ship back through the Jump Point. But the ship with the best chance to do so had lost that opportunity; now their own fatalism would begin to work against them.
Forced to choose between being rammed or relinquishing their mutual defense, the Imperial Captains held fast, determined that at least one of them should reach the Jump Point and bring word back to the Empire that the despised Sauron Homeworld was defenseless.
Diettinger decided it was time to close the trap on these two. “Communications.”
“First Rank.”
“Secure lines.”
“Lasers up.”
“All vessels, cease acceleration. Maintain intercept headings but abort rams. Dragons, close to encirclement formation.”
The Dragons further contained the ever-tightening circles of the Imperial cruisers, and at a mere hundred kilometers from the Jump Point and safety, Canopus’ One and Three collided. Canopus Three’s Field went down, victim of an internal power failure, and a salvo of torpedoes from the Dragons obliterated the vessel. Keegan and Fomoria brought all their guns to bear on Canopus One, now apparently unable eve
n to maneuver. The designers of the triple-Fielded Canopus class ships had never envisioned the magnitude of firepower now flowing into Canopus One’s Langston Field. Even so, burn-throughs and their resultant destruction took another hour. The Task Force then regrouped, hunted down Canopus Two, offering her crew surrender terms. Her Captain agreed, then, as the prize crew was being shuttled over, tried to ram Keegan - no feint, this. Canopus Two was sent to join her sisters.
Sixteen
Three days after the battle, a meeting of the High Command received a briefing on the near-debacle by Fleet First Rank Diettinger and Vessel First Ranks Emory and Dannevar. Despite repeated urgings on Diettinger’s part, the High Command seemed convinced the three Imperial vessels had been no more than raiders. At best, they were surveillance ships, apprehended before they could attempt to hide in Sauron System’s vast asteroid belt.
Emory was cautiously supportive of Diettinger’s assessment: “May I suggest to the High Command,” the Damaris’ commander adopted as diplomatic a tone as she knew how, “that several vessels operating in nearby sectors be recalled for Home System defense - on a temporary basis, of course - in the event the Imperials are planning similar raids.” Her eyes flickered briefly to lock with Diettinger’s.
The High Command considered the proposal, asking for a concurring opinion from Emory’s fellow commanders. Diettinger agreed readily; anything to get more ships into the Home System. But Dannevar was noncommittal, and without unanimity on the part of the commanders involved, Diettinger knew that the High Command’s over-confidence would doom the idea.
“If I might add, First Citizen,” Diettinger put in, ”All the ships mentioned by Vessel First Rank Emory are elements of the special operations fleet I have been instructed to compile. If they are brought into Sauron System now, they can be refitted and rearmed early, clearing the docks for those First Fleet - ” he caught himself before saying “survivors” - ”elements which will soon return from Tanith. The readying of the Sparta invasion fleet may thus be completed ahead of schedule, allowing the timetable for the operation itself to be moved up. And the sooner we can press our - advantage - the greater our prospects for success.”
