A Call to Arms

by Bradley Hutchinson

  “A week?” Captain Takagi parroted James in disbelief. “Just how long have –”

  “It’ll take at least that long to assemble the necessary forces to attack J-24,” Captain Shinmen Musashi butted in, his eyes a swirl of electrical energy as his virtual-vision flashed data across his vision. “If not longer – and it’ll take us just as long to reinforce Elysium for this so-called trap.” He frowned severely as his ocular implants powered down. “How sure are you – are we – that the Hegemony will take the bait?”

  “The Hegemony knows they can’t afford to let us to complete the expansion of this shipyard,” Garret said. “This expansion would almost double the output of our shipbuilding capabilities at Elysium – in a year, we could overwhelm them in numbers. Especially when this new expansion can be easily supplied by the newly expanded mining operations on the fifth planet…”

  “And how are we gonna crew these new ships? The only reason we haven’t embarked on this kind of project before now is because we have no capacity to –”

  Hawthorne raised a hand, and Takagi fell silent. Everyone present at the meeting knew the problems they’d had with recruiting and training personnel. It was a problem to be dealt with elsewhere. “That is information the N’xin do not have, Captain Takagi, and it is a discussion to be had at a later date, if and when the problem demands a solution.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “How will the Hegemony even know… ah.” Numberi cut himself off. “We’re going to leak…”

  James nodded, offering a smirk. “Yes, one of our techs is going to be sloppy with an encrypted transmission, and spoil everything for us.” He pointed at the map. “It’s a six day journey between Elysium and J-24; our fleet will be positioned just three days away from J-24, in the Damocles system, before jumping to the edge of J-24.”

  Musashi raised his hand. “Since we’re coinciding our attack to begin just a few hours before they arrive at Elysium, what are we doing to make sure that they stay where we want them?”

  “I hardly think they’re going to reverse course and high tail it back to their space,” James said archly. “They’d arrive nearly a week after we’ve pummelled J-24, far too late to do anything except clean up the mess we leave behind.”

  “I meant, what’s to stop them from breaking off into smaller groups and tearing through the Commonwealth on a killing spree? Our fleet can hardly be deployed to adequately cover all points of interest that deep in our territory.”

  “That is a risk, yes,” James said. “And I’m afraid there isn’t much we can do to pin them in place.” He shrugged. “We’ll just have to hit them hard and fast and keep them angry enough to stay and make a fight of it… and if not, then we’ll disengage and pursue them if they decide to run amok.”

  “Besides,” said Garret, “With all the interference J-24 will be suffering through, we can’t even be sure the N’xin will be aware of what’s going on in their own backyard.” He nodded. “They’ll slug it out with us at Elysium.”

  “I concur, I don’t think they’ll cut and run, either,” Vice Admiral Malcolm Rush, Hawthorne’s main deputy and the current chief of the Office of Naval Intelligence, said heavily. He was an imposing figure, if a bit overweight. His ebony skin was washed out by the bluish tinge of the holographic stream. “Standard Hegemony practice has been to stand their ground and fight to the last man.” He stroked his beard, his eyes narrowing. “I’m more concerned about our ships being affected by the CME – projections suggest that it’ll take at least three days to subside, but the data isn’t conclusive. It could be more… or it could be less.”

  In order to give the Commonwealth a major advantage, James’ plan demanded that one of the few Commonwealth stealth ships they had available would launch one of their new super-weapons into the star of J-24, igniting a storm of solar flares and mass ejections that would adversely affect the Hegemony’s installations, ranging from their power systems, to their ability to communicate with each other.

  Unfortunately, the science on these things wasn’t exact, so there was no way to ensure how long – or how severe – these coronal ejections would be, meaning the Commonwealth fleet could arrive and get blasted by their own weapon – it would be dangerous enough for them entering battle at the tail end of a CME; it would be near-suicidal going into battle in the midst of a CME.

  “We could deploy the weapon earlier,” Garret suggested. “Though the danger with that is the solar storms could subside, and allow the N’xin to affect some repairs to their defences before we get there.”

  “But not enough to be a great hindrance to us. Generally, the more sophisticated a system, the more difficult it is to repair,” Rush said, nodding. James thought he was being a little too cautious – the longer it took for the Commonwealth to destroy the N’xin forces at J-24, the more N’xin reinforcements – undamaged and able to fight – could arrive. “I’d support launching the CME weapons much earlier than this.”

  “Very well,” James conceded, accepting their points. Both men were most likely correct, and even if they weren’t, the difference it would make on the battlefield would be minimal. He nodded silently at David, who no doubt was amending the mission plan bring forward the timetable.

  “What if the N’xin decide to hit something a bit more vulnerable, or something that’s a bit closer to home? Like one of our refugee worlds? Or the smaller repair yards closer to the border?” Musashi asked.

  “I don’t think that’s terribly likely,” James said archly. “And even if they do, well… we can weather whatever damage they inflict.” He shrugged, trying to make the gesture look casual, and the office descended into silence, no doubt many were concerned with his flippancy about sacrificing. “As long as J-24 falls, we can weather whatever assault they throw at us elsewhere.”

  “Anyone else have any objections?” Vice Admiral Anita Halsey, head of the First Fleet, finally asked. She was a small woman, but had a powerful personality, with flaming red hair that seemed to match her default mood, and beady eyes that could penetrate into your soul with little effort. Despite being respected, her lack of recent combat experience had been a cause for some corners of the military apparatus to request her reassignment.

  Takagi raised a hand hesitantly. “While I still think this plan is more than a little insane, I have to concede that it is sound, and I think it’s better than anything else we’ve been working on.”

  Musashi, Rush, and Numberi nodded in agreement. It wasn’t a ringing endorsement, but then even James had to concede his plan was ambitious. But Takagi was right. Most of the other proposals that had been suggested involved slugging it out with the N’xin for the next three or more years – that was how long Intelligence estimated the N’xin could keep fighting before being completely overwhelmed. Chopping off the head and allowing the body to wither is the only way to end this war quickly.

  “Alright, then,” Hawthorne said, gesturing to grab everyone’s attention. “I’ll give you guys 48 hours to tinker with Captain Hunter’s plan, submit your proposed amendments to him to review. Jim, give me your revised battle plan in three days; we’ll reconvene then and vote on which of these paths to victory to take.”

  *

  As it turned out, there weren’t all that many alterations suggested to the overall battle plan – Admiral Rush, naturally, wanted to reinforce the number of ships defending Elysium, preferring to send a smaller fleet to J-24. Numberi and Takagi, on the other hand, had both suggested increasing the size of the force striking at J-24.

  The committee accepted Rush’s suggestion; while wiping out J-24 was vital, holding onto an undamaged Elysium – which was to the Commonwealth what J-24 was to the N’xin – was absolutely essential. Even moderate damage to the infrastructure of the system would send shockwaves throughout the Commonwealth, and would delay progress on the war for months… or more.

  In the worst case, it could actually cost the Commonwealth the war.

  On the other hand, even moderate damag
e to N’xin fortifications in J-24 will cripple their war effort. Intelligence already believed that they were having personnel problems – fighting to the last man tended to do that in a war – and the Commonwealth isolating some of their profitable supply routes was crippling their ability to wage war, or even defend themselves. Total victory wasn’t necessary in J-24, it would just be a nice bonus – the boon to morale alone would be worth the strike. And total destruction of the infrastructure would have prolonged repercussions.

  “I will be commanding the strike force,” Hawthorne told James, his eyes scanning the datapad James had handed him. “I’ll be making the announcement once the High Command signs off on our plan… which should be in about ten minutes.”

  James smiled. They both knew that the High Command – composed of a dozen admirals, most of whom were more politicians these days than actual soldiers – really had no choice but to agree to James’ plan.

  “I thought you might want that job.” James nodded slowly. “If it’s all the same to you, Admiral, I’d prefer to remain behind at Elysium. This is my plan, I should be the one to shoulder the risk… and the blame, if it goes pear-shaped.”

  Hawthorne shook his head, looking regretful as he turned to stare out the viewport in his office. The blue-green world of Elysium spun lazily in place as the Bellerophon – currently undergoing a complete pre-battle inspection – orbited high above it – from this angle, James could just see the tail-end of the cruiser Endurance flying as escort.

  “No, Admiral Halsey will be leading the defence of Elysium, Captain.”

  Days of pent up frustration erupted out of James. “Admiral, you can’t be serious!” The outburst surprised James, but it was how he felt. He glanced back at David Garret, who look mildly perplexed at the eruption. “Halsey has been babysitting Earth for the last three years. She hasn’t seen any major combat in nearly five. You’re putting her in charge of protecting the most vital piece of real estate in the sector?”

  “She is the most senior officer in the system, Captain…” Hawthorne frowned. “You’re like, the sixth most senior… unless you’re angling for a promotion?”

  James screwed his nose up in contempt. “Don’t be absurd, Admiral. Halsey has seniority, certainly, but that doesn’t make her superior to anyone.”

  Hawthorne’s right eye began twitching, and James thought he’d finally gone too far, but Hawthorne let out an explosive sigh. His expression – brow furrowed, eyes narrowed to slits – was, surprisingly, not one of anger or annoyance, but of contemplation.

  “What would you have me do, Captain?”

  “Look, Admiral, she can remain in command officially, I just don’t want her on my ship, or getting in my way, during a battle.”

  Hawthorne arched an eyebrow. He’d probably been expecting this conversation. “So unofficially, you’d be in command?”

  James nodded keenly, his eyes narrowing as if they were zeroing in on prey. “Of the defence forces and deployment, yes. Admiral Halsey can oversee from the C&C on Elysium. Or on the Matador. Or anywhere, really, except for where I am.” He shrugged fractionally, adding, almost as an afterthought, “I’m happy to listen to any advice she provides. I simply don’t trust her to be able to competently adapt to a shifting battleground as well as I can.”

  “That’s so generous of you, Captain,” Hawthorne said smugly, smirking. “The ol’ ‘look, but don’t touch’ approach, eh?” Hawthorne asked, and James shrugged, nodding.

  “Captain’s Garret and Takagi concur with my opinion, Admiral,” he said, as if that settled the matter.

  It didn’t. There was such a thing as a chain-of-command, and it was quite clear.

  “Garret agrees with everything you say, Hunter,” Hawthorne snapped sharply, then paused, letting out a sigh. “You know there are three other admirals in the system on a permanent basis? Some of them have more recent combat experience than Halsey – Khoury, for instance. What am I supposed to do about them? Do you expect them to play by the same rules you want to impose on Halsey?”

  Hunter didn’t even skip a beat. “Pretty much, yes, unless you can convince me that they’ll do a better job of pulling this battle off than me.”

  Hawthorne offered an amused chuckle – after all, James had no leverage or means of enforcing his demands other than cold logic. Unless I go play politics, and bring my family into this. The political connections his family wielded were considerable, if not outright excessive, and it wouldn’t take long – or much effort – to ensure that he got his way.

  Which would ultimately undermine any actual influence and power I would normally wield.

  “James, you know I cannot order this. Aside from the pushback from the admirals in question – two of which aren’t even aware of this plan – the High Command would never go along with it.” Hawthorne rapped his knuckles on the top of the table, holding up a hand as James opened his mouth to rebut. “But I will strongly recommend that Admiral Halsey accede to your tactical suggestions. Good enough?”

  “It’ll do, as long as she actually takes the advice.” James said, trying hard to sound grateful. He thought he was successful. It was, he reflected, the best he could have hoped for, and the only viable political outcome.

  Hawthorne studied him for a long moment, as if weighing up whether to continue the discussion or not. “Fine,” Hawthorne said resignedly, waving a hand wearily. “Dismissed.”

  James saluted smartly – one of his few genuine ones – and pivoted on his heel, nodding at David, who fell into step behind him as they exited the office, proceeding to the right along a stark white corridor that was deserted.

  “Are you going to be okay with this?” David asked.

  “I’ll make it work, David,” James said, injecting his tone with a confidence he didn’t feel. He was hoping that Halsey wouldn’t make his life too difficult; she was, after all, a woman, and should easily recognize that he was a better strategist than her.

  Check the vanity, James, she’s an admiral for a reason, a voice in the back of his head butted in sharply. But it’s true, another voice said, this one with the smarmy smugness of Troy. James cursed silently as he silenced the voices in his head – he didn’t need to be distracted by a debate in his own head.

  “You know what’s interesting, David?” James asked, his voice light and airy – it was the sort of voice Troy would use when trying to sound naïve or innocent.

  “What?”

  “Twenty years ago, my only interest in life was in being a good lawyer and a good husband. If you’d told me that I’d be more concerned about being a good soldier, or a good strategist, I’d have probably laughed in your face at the absurdity of the notion.” He shook his head. “Now, I’m a good soldier, a good strategist… and a terrible husband.”

  “Could be worse.” David snorted. “You could be terrible at all those things.”

  James sighed in defeat as David smiled gloatingly. “Glad we had this chat, David.”

  Chapter Four

  Jeremy Hawthorne tugged at the end of his duty uniform as he stepped off the turbolift and onto the bridge of the Bellerophon, lazily returning the salutes of the guards flanking the entryway. The bridge was, as expected, a hive of activity – the fleet had only just emerged from its long FTL journey, and was now in the process of recharging their FTL capacitors to continue on to their objective.

  “Captain Shanthi, let the record show that the war was won on August 5, 2439,” announced Hawthorne clearly, trying to imbue a sense of confidence onto the bridge. Several of the bridge crew erupted into half-felt cheers and applauded – the rest were too busy to pay him much heed.

  As Hawthorne had come to expect, the slender black woman didn’t smile at the pronouncement. Shanthi merely stood implacably at her customary place beside his command chair, merely arching an eyebrow as she surrendered the seat to him.

  “Well, hopefully that doesn’t jinx us.” He grinned ruefully as he looked out the viewport. Beyond the formation of escorts that
swarmed around the Bellerophon, the dim star of J-24 lay directly ahead of the pointed prow of the dreadnaught, just barely half a light-year distant – literally a quick hop away at FTL speeds.

  “Hopefully,” Shanthi said diplomatically, handing him a datapad deftly. “There are no indications that we have been detected. Long range probes detect nothing abnormal in the system, and our estimates on their remaining forces appear to have been accurate.”

  Which meant that Elysium would be fighting for its life soon. Hawthorne didn’t say that out loud, of course: he didn’t want a panic distracting his crew from their duties in the upcoming battle. Too much was at stake at J-24; worrying about a battle half a quadrant away wouldn’t be productive for anyone.

  Elysium would be fine… hopefully. If it wasn’t… well, Hawthorne rather suspected that in the worst-case scenarios, he wouldn’t live long enough to regret the decisions he’d made in the lead up to this moment.

  Nodding encouragingly, he continued past his own private misgivings. “Excellent. Is my flagship ready, Captain?”

  “The Bellerophon awaits your command, Admiral,” Shanthi said formally. “The fleet is assembled, and show green across the board.”

  He loosed an anxious sigh as he took in the activity of the bridge around him – his VA assured him that every station was at the ready, awaiting orders. “Begin the countdown, Captain, and ready the fleet for departure.”

  *

  Chiming the door to the Ready Room, David Garret had expected to simply stroll right in. Instead, the doors remained resolutely shut, the indicator light on control panel in the wall next to it indicating the doors were locked. Frowning, he pressed the chime again, holding the button down this time.

  “Yes, yes, come in, damnit.”

  The doors swished open quickly, the darkness beyond them retreating quickly from the light in the corridor. David stepped in, and the doors sealed shut behind him, and David found himself squinting into the darkness that surrounded him.