Starfarer's Dream (Kinsella Universe Book 4)

by Gina Marie Wylie

  She tapped keys, tapped more, after a minute she looked at David. “Mr. Zinder, my apologies. You have trod the proverbial path where no man has gone before, at least not recently. Quite a few sneak attack scenarios, only four long term war campaigns -- although none quite like your suggestion. Nothing at all in more than fifty years. The comp is dipping into the older archives.”

  She looked around. “Do you all understand the significance of Mr. Zinder’s suggestion?”

  Toby nodded as well as the young Chinese girl. The rest didn’t.

  “Quite simply, this will be a multiple ship action -- there will be lots of planning points. Oh, how I need those!” Bethany’s smile remained winter cold. “Most of you want ship command points. This will produce those in spades. Every single person on Black Force who desires it will have a ship command, and most of you will be element commanders as well, if that is your wish. I’d guess we’d have three division commanders as well.

  David saw her eyes fix on him. Bethany had stopped talking as her eyes scanned the words only she could see on the computer screen. That’s a human computer in operation, David thought. What she was going to come up with wouldn’t be something he was going to like.

  “Mr. Zinder, at least for this, I think you and I, sir, will swap hats. You will be our operational commander: CommTaskFor.” She grinned wickedly. David was quite sure she expected him to fail miserably.

  “I will assume your slot, Deputy for Operations, for the duration of this scenario.”

  David had had to command ships to get where he’d gotten; he’d had to command more than one ship in a unit. It wasn’t going to be quite the chore for him that Bethany seemed to think. On the other hand, the same thing, only in reverse, had to be true for Bethany. She hadn’t gotten to this level without her own time as a staff weenie. She might underestimate him, thinking he was unprepared -- but he wouldn’t do the same towards her.

  There was a chime and she turned to the comp. “Gosh,” her voice was subdued. “Gosh wow! This is really good! Scenario Dragon Two.” Bethany met David’s eyes for a second, her expression was unreadable.

  Bethany turned to the others and said briskly, “You are dismissed. Admiral Zinder and I will go through your CVs and match them with the mission specs. I promise you, all of you, that you will get your heart’s fondest desire, when it comes to mission and ship assignments.”

  “And if you think that’s a good thing,” David interjected, and then paused. He’d been quick off the mark, as soon as Bethany had given the scenario name, pulling it up and looking at the summary. “Well, you are going to be sadly disabused.” He saw Bethany’s eyes on him -- agreement. Something he had never expected to see from her.

  For an hour they went over the scenario the computer had presented; they had preliminary intel on the Fleet base and their own force’s initial dispositions.

  David looked at Bethany, after about an hour. “This is...”

  “Yeah,” her voice was hard and bitter, mixed with mild disbelief and a huge portion of reluctance.

  “We’re out on a limb here -- this isn’t what we think it is. There’s something more,” David said, not wanting to spell it out either.

  “Oh yeah!” Bethany muttered. “It’s no secret the Fleet has a vested interest in the sims; they have their own stuff hiding in the wings. They never tell you -- but this is more than a little obvious.”

  “Yeah,” it was David’s turn to speak, trying to get over what he’d read. Not a scenario for the faint of heart or those with weak stomachs.

  She had looked up at him, and then grinned, when he’d echoed her.

  “So...”

  “First off, the professional basics,” David said with authority. “I simply don’t trust the intel on this base. Maybe this patrol schedule is what the previous CO was doing; your father would be taking over. He will not be this sedentary.”

  “No. When he takes over, a proper patrol schedule will commence at once.”

  David looked at the view again. “Would he overreact? Push a little hard at first?”

  “Well...” Bethany said, thinking, “It looks like he overreacts. But he doesn’t, not really. I really am sorry about the collision, the other day.”

  “The third apology isn’t as charming as the first,” David told her. “I believed you the first time. My father is a lot like yours. Everybody, he says, makes mistakes. What makes you the person you are is how you respond to your mistakes, and to the mistakes of others.”

  “And I didn’t acquit myself well. I am, Mr. Zinder, a prisoner of my gender, genes and environment. And of late, a few hormones as well. This is not an excuse; it’s just my explanation. Don’t try to take advantage.”

  “I always try to take advantage,” David said, trying to sound a little stuffy. To his surprise, Bethany laughed.

  “And I would too. Forget it. I’m sorry, really.”

  “Bethany... let it go.”

  She pursed her lips, before shaking her head. “I’m not, am I? Stupid! I hate stupid! So, Mr. Zinder -- what else do you have to say about the scenario?” She waved at the computer.

  “We know your father will start more energetic patrolling as soon as he takes command. I can’t believe he would keep the same verisimilitude in regards to command laxity as the computer has. The question is, should we attack with a better recon or just go straight in? Myself? I think, straight in.”

  “And my father thinks you need some experience in risk-taking?” Bethany asked, shaking her head ruefully. “Obviously, I’m not the only one underestimating you.”

  “A risk, yes. And not tomorrow or the day after. Tonight, after dinner. Just straight in. Everything at once. A big toss of the dice.”

  Bethany whistled; a whistle that lasted amazingly long. “Good grief, Zinder! We can’t be sure of the force level opposing us -- you said that yourself! We need to recon it! The brief says roughly equal forces. Any warning at all and it will be tough. And if the intel is wrong, we’re toast.”

  “Most of the defending ships will be inside the fan well. Perhaps we could send a few ships in first and hold the others back far enough to be invisible on low fan, close enough to see where their ships are. As soon as they react, we jump to intercept. That should be a surprise; maybe not a complete surprise... but something close.”

  “Why shouldn’t I build up planning points?” Bethany made a come-along gesture. “Explain that to me, Mr. Zinder!”

  “What’s your goal? Points or winning?”

  Bethany was silent for a moment before she shrugged. “Now isn’t that something! Being lectured like I was a newbie, forgetting the basics! My father was right, Mr. Zinder. I need you.” She laughed and shook her head. “So far though, you don’t need me.”

  “I do,” David said positively. “Maybe not how you or your dad figured, but I do. I watched the others a while ago. When you talked, they listened. When I talk -- people check their comps to see how much longer I’m likely to take.”

  “Well, you’re improving. I’m listening. The others -- they’ll listen too. You know, we probably won’t win; considering it’s my father, we almost certainly won’t. But if we rush them, if we make them have to react quickly... If we have surprise... You’re right. No dinner for us!”

  For another hour they planned in detail. Finally David looked at her. “You’ve been hinting around it; I’ve been hinting around it. Neither of us is willing to come right out and say it. We’ve both known the truth since we first looked at the scenario.”

  “Pirates. I’ve done pirates,” Bethany said quietly. “Raiders, after this or that loot. I’ve done raiders. Military raids against defended targets -- I’ve done that. Space battles, us versus them. I’ve done that. This... I hadn’t realized how different the mind set has to be. The mission objectives demand the nature of the attack. Our op order will leave nothing to the imagination.”

  “We attempt to destroy a human-occupied planet; a planet with a half billion men, women and chil
dren on it,” David said it baldly, feeling sick to his stomach at the words. “We smash the defenses, the defenders standing between us and it, and then we smash the planet. Priority is on smashing the planet.” He grit his teeth. “Genocide. Mass murder.”

  “It’s enough to make me ill,” Bethany agreed. “And I thought I had a rock iron stomach. Yet... if my father was here, I know what he’d say.”

  David nodded. “This is an exercise. A training device so that if we are ever faced with the reality, there would be training and experience to fall back on. I’ve done hundreds and hundreds of leadership, piloting and engineering sims,” David told her. “Sims where everything has been done to me, including leaving me powerless, heading down, with no hope at all. This is worse than that. Much worse.”

  “So, Admiral, what do you propose?” Bethany asked quietly.

  David showed her.

  Bethany contemplated David’s latest attack plan. It had evolved considerably from the original -- now it was faster, leaner, harder. Bethany made a few comments, and then, together, they tidied up a few details.

  “It’s not much of a plan,” Bethany told him. “Still, simple is good. This is simple. Elegant, but simple.”

  “Yes. Considering the lack of intel and the compressed mission clock, it’s pretty solid.”

  “Yes.” She tapped keys on her comp, pulling down the email menu, recalling the others. It took nearly a quarter hour to reassemble their captains.

  “Admiral Zinder, conduct the preliminary brief.”

  David nodded, and then stood up.

  The chart of the target system appeared on a wall screen.

  “We shall attack a Fleet class II base orbiting a colonial world, Category B; intel says there are twenty-two cruisers, six smaller vessels and eight orbital missile platforms in defense.” David reached out to his own comp; tapped the dozen keys. “I have set the attack for 1810 hours this evening. Citing scenario priority, you should all be available. I need to know now if this is going to cause a conflict for any of you. Be aware that the odds are, we’ll go anyway, without you.”

  No one moved; no one spoke. There were a number of stunned expressions. “You have all selected ship preferences; most of those are a slam dunk. Gail Wu, please hold up your hand.” David looked at the young girl with the haunted eyes.

  The thin-as-a-rail twelve-year-old held up her hand.

  David continued as if this was standard. “As per the general rules, I have selected you as Division I commander.” David named the other two three-ship element commanders in the first Division. “Your force will consist of eight ships; you will jump close to the planet, aiming for two light seconds. There, you will expend forty percent of your weapons load out at the planet. Twenty per cent against the orbital bases, and when the six ships out system jump inside the down bound missiles, you will engage them with twenty per cent of your load out. At that point, you will begin to withdraw, firing your remaining weapons at aloft targets of opportunity.”

  The young woman blinked, and then looked at the scenario again. “Aye, aye, Admiral.” Her voice was grave; to her this wasn’t the game it was to some. She understood what she’d been ordered to do.

  “Admiral Booth will command Division Two. Division Two will consist of ten ships. They will drop two light seconds from the base, and will expend forty percent of their load out against it. Ten per cent against the planet, twenty percent against either the hasty defense of the base or against anything else that looks worth expending weapons against. Upon completion of that, Admiral Booth, you will assist Division One recovering from the fan well.” Again, David named two element commanders.

  “I will be with Division Three; Toby will command the division. The group will consist of seven ships. Three of us will jump against Habitat Mining One, two ships each against Mining Two and Industrial One. After those habitats are destroyed, two ships from my element will jump against Ag Two, the other two elements will launch single ship attacks on the five fuel stations around the gas giants. I will be coordinating the battle after the initial attack against the habitat; Toby will have operational command of the rest of the Third Division elements.

  “After the habitats are destroyed, which should take no more than thirty percent of load out, third division will jump to support the other divisions, clearing the planet.

  “Our primary mission is to destroy the planet. The secondary mission is to destroy the base. The next priority is space infrastructure, then armed vessels aloft, and finally unarmed vessels aloft.

  “I expect the battle to unfold in this fashion:

  “The three divisions will emerge on the tick. The base will have two to three minutes warning, the planet slightly more. The habitats none. I expect that the six ships out system will, seeing the attack on the planet, jump to interpose themselves between the down bound missiles and the missile targets. You will have a number of ship killers in the initial salvoes, on standby. As soon as they have targets, attack. Then, follow on and attack any survivors in force. That should keep those ships busy and will almost certainly result in the destruction of all or most of them. Division One would then turn their attention to orbital platforms, which would be coming on line about then.

  “Division Two should be able to bag most of the ships at the base and the base itself. By launching a strike, however small, against the planet will further divide and confuse the defense. Division Three will be the general reserve, out beyond the fan well, able to intervene at need and where needed.

  “Shock and surprise; plus our opponents’ desire to prevent the success of our mission.” David tried to look and sound professional, but it didn’t completely work. “These should result in a victory.”

  “I’ll be damned if I will participate in this!” one of the younger boys, perhaps fourteen, said. “I will never, ever, take part in something like this!”

  Bethany spoke for the first time in the mission brief. “It’s your choice. You will be listed as refusing a mission. Finding another might be difficult and you will certainly be demoted -- but that’s not our call, but the General Board’s.”

  Bethany looked at the others. “Yes, even as a theoretical exercise, this is appalling. Please note, we gave the computer a general request, one that I’ve heard was going to be a priority in the coming months, one Admiral Zinder has heard about as well. Both Kriegspiel and Fleet Command.

  “This isn’t an accident -- this is deliberate. This is an exercise, a theoretical game, to make the chances of this sort of event actually happening as close to zero as humanity can make it. At a certain point, a doctor cuts into his or her first patient. We are Black Force. With the exception of Admiral Zinder, all of the rest of you volunteered for this -- you told the BuPers pukes this is what you wanted. Adjust, adapt, overcome -- you have what you wanted.

  “I repeat, this isn’t an accident. I believe the short elapsed time will surprise my father. I think. I’m almost certain that this is planned as a field test of the concept. Which means, he’s going to expect this attack at some point or other. Let’s just get this over with. Once he’s had even a few days with his group our chances will go down substantially, no matter how clever a plan we have. And this, for such a short time, is one very clever plan. It’s simple, direct, and applies the maximum force at point after point.

  “My last point is that no matter what the scenario, no matter what else, I’m here to win.” She pointed a finger at the recalcitrant “captain.” “Mister, make up your mind! There are those of us who have to go over everything as carefully as we can in the time available. We have,” she checked her comp, “less than two hours until the exercise commences! One last time: will you take your command?”

  “Maybe it’s a test to see what we will stomach, like the Germans in World War II. They want to know if there are orders we won’t obey,” the boy said, sounding a little desperate, staring directly back at Bethany.

  “You, sir, stand relieved for cause.” This time it was Gail Wu, t
alking to the young man. Her voice was confident and clear. “Admiral, I do not believe this officer can be relied upon to carry out his mission orders.”

  “Return to your quarters, commander, and keep your mouth shut,” Bethany told him. She looked around at the others. “Anyone else?”

  The young First Division commander spoke quietly. “A fleet ex is a fleet ex. If all they wanted to practice was attacks by Boy Scouts, they’d have a whole raft of merit badges ready to go. When it comes time for the pilots in my division to start shooting, that’s what they’d better do! We’re Black Force! This is what we do!”

  No one else said anything, but there certainly were a few less than enthusiastic element leaders. David made notes, but there was nothing to be done at this time; next time -- well, next time would be next time. One way or another, things would be different then.

  Then it was planning, planning, planning...

  Finally David looked at his comp time. “Ten minutes. Potty, powder your noses and suck up some chocolate; be sure your milk and cookies are lined up for afterwards. Be at the simulator section before the tick.”

  He stood up and followed Bethany, the two of them left the room together, David staying a step behind her.

  “Milk and cookies?” Bethany said with a giggle, turning towards him, when they were alone in a corridor.

  David shrugged. “Hey, it worked for me for years; those two things got me through a lot of night battles. My lucky rabbit’s foot.”

  A few minutes later they were in the simulators, and Bethany spoke to the Black Force captains. “Okay, it’s like this: it’s dinner time for most everyone. It’s rude to interrupt people’s meals. Sorry, scenario parameters say a surprise attack is a surprise attack. In two minutes, a lot of people are going to be leaving their evening meal or hopping out of the shower or sack -- whatever their pleasure was. That will be the tick when we drop from fan. The scenario will freeze for five minutes, exactly. Time enough for those otherwise occupied to get to the sims. Alas, time for a few of the clever ones to think about what’s going to happen.