Jenetta had done her best to appear calm as the hours and minutes ticked down towards the Milori arrival, but a nervous stomach prevented her from eating a decent meal at dinner. Expected at just after two a.m., the Milori didn't disappoint, the first ships arriving at precisely 0208. Jenetta and her senior staff had assembled in the CIC at midnight to begin the interminable wait for the confrontation.
Sitting ramrod straight in her chair, Jenetta waited for the Milori commander to make the first contact. The holographic map of the area around the station showed the arrival of the first Milori ships. They took up positions twenty-five thousand kilometers away, creating a ring of warships much like the rings around Saturn. As each new group arrived over the next few minutes, its ships joined the growing circle, filling in wherever gaps existed.
"Admiral, we're being hailed by the Milori commander," the com chief said at 0212.
"Order all ships in the staging areas to move to their designated RP five-billion kilometers from the station. Then put the Milori commander on the big screen, Lieutenant, and open the outgoing broadcast line."
"Aye, ma'am."
A second later, the large monitor at the front of the room filled with the visage of Supreme Lord Space Marshall Dwillaak. A smaller screen showed the image of Jenetta being broadcast over the open channel.
"Admiral, I order you to open your doors and surrender your station immediately, or be destroyed."
"Ahh, Space Marshall Dwillaak, isn't it?"
"Supreme Lord Space Marshall Dwillaak."
"Is that a promotion? Wasn't it just Space Marshall the last time? Congratulations Supreme Space Lord Marshall." Jenetta asked with a perfectly straight face. She was well aware of Dwillaak's rank and title.
"It's Supreme Lord Space Marshall Dwillaak, and no, my rank has not changed," he said, with obvious irritation.
"Oh, sorry. I hadn't expected to ever see you again."
"I've come to erase the dishonor of our last encounter."
"By dishonoring your word to leave and never return? Really, Dwillaak, committing one dishonor to erase another is no way to clear your record."
Dwillaak sputtered. "You lied to me about those ships. They weren't warships at all."
"I never lied to you about those ships, and I never said they were warships. I only referred to them as ships. I'm sure you have video records so you can check for yourself. I was fully prepared to engage your fleet with just my twelve warships. If you jumped to the erroneous conclusion on your own that the others were warships, I can't be held responsible."
Dwillaak forced himself to calm down. He had expected Carver to be beside herself with worry once his armada circled the station. But she appeared as unruffled as when she had dictated the terms of surrender at their last encounter. He wondered if she could possibly believe she had a chance of surviving this new confrontation. The Emperor had charged Dwillaak with the task of bringing back her head, and he looked forward to personally separating it from her shoulders. He felt supremely powerful in this situation, so he could afford to be a little patient. "Very clever, Admiral, but I won't be jumping to conclusions this time. I know you have no ships inside the port. You foolishly sent them off to protect Scruscotto."
"Oh, that's because we don't need them here any more."
Dwillaak flinched, unsure if he heard correctly. "What?"
"I said we don't need them here anymore. We have our new Madness Ray to protect the station if our laser arrays aren't adequate."
"Madness Ray? What foolishness is this? Another attempt to have me surrender without a fight?"
"Not at all, Marshall Lord Supreme Dwillaak. It's an incredible new weapon devised by our Space Command Weapons Research people for defending the station from attack. We're very proud of it. Granted, we haven't perfected it yet, but it's worked incredibly well against twenty-five to thirty percent of the subjects we've used in the tests. A few species have shown remarkable resistance to it, but most exhibit early signs of violent psychosis within minutes, and many have succumbed to complete insanity. The intense aggression they've exhibited has been horrendous."
"I don't believe you. You have no such weapon, just as you didn't have a large fleet of warships at our last encounter."
Jenetta shrugged her shoulders. "I really didn't expect you to believe me, but I had to give you one last chance to leave before we turn your brain to mush. Once we begin hostilities, all bets are off and it will be a fight to the finish."
"My sentiments exactly, which is why I offer you one chance to surrender the station."
"Then I guess we've reached an impasse, for I will never surrender."
"Nor will I."
"Too bad." Turning towards a CPO at the com station, she said loudly, "Engage the Madness Ray."
The chief depressed a button on her console and a fluctuating and piercing, high-pitched whine filled Dwillaak's bridge, and every Milori ship that was watching the open broadcast.
"And this very annoying sound is supposed to drive us mad?" Dwillaak asked with obvious amusement.
"Not just mad, Supreme Marshall Lord Space Dwillaak. It causes you to lose control and begin lashing out violently at anyone and everyone. As I said, it isn't a hundred percent successful yet, but it's effective enough. We haven't pinpointed the problem, but we believe it's owed to refractive resonance of the hull."
Dwillaak sat in the command chair on his bridge and smiled, unwilling to rise to the bait that Jenetta had cast out by scrambling his title for a third time. "More foolishness. Your ploy isn't working, Admiral. Now, before I order my ships to attack, I offer you one final chance to surrender."
Suddenly, the image of Dwillaak's bridge shook violently and several Milora crewmembers behind him sprawled onto the deck.
"What was that?" Dwillaak screamed at his tactical officer.
"We were hit by a torpedo from one of our own ships. Several of our ships have broken formation and are beginning to attack the others." After a few seconds he added, "Now there are dozens attacking. They're beginning to circle the base, firing on our own ships."
Dwillaak screamed into his com microphone, "All ships break off your attack and hold positions. Do not listen to the lying Space Command Admiral. Stop firing immediately and halt your ship. Do not fire on your fellow warriors." Looking at Jenetta, he said, "What kind of trickery is this, you witch?"
"I warned you, Marshall Lord Dwillaak Supreme," Jenetta said smugly, "but you chose to ignore my warnings and forced my hand. Since we don't have sufficient forces to fight you, I must get your forces to destroy each other. In the interest of self-preservation, I suggest you order all your ships to fire on the other ships around them."
Dwillaak glared at Jenetta. "You hope to have me destroy my own ships? No, Admiral, I'm not going to play your game. My warriors are too well trained to keep this up for long. I'll stop them all by myself." As Dwillaak's ship shook violently for a second time, he screamed into his mike, "Stop firing I said. You are being tricked by the Space Command witch. I order all Milori vessels to stop firing immediately and hold their positions. Do not fire your torpedoes or laser weapons at any Milori ships under any circumstances. Do you hear me? Do not fire on any Milori vessels."
Suddenly, Dwillaak's ship shook violently for a third time and then shook again a second later as a fourth torpedo found its mark. Dwillaak's image disappeared from the monitor.
"The transmission was lost at the source, ma'am," the com chief said. The large monitor began showing a view from the port entrance, of the area outside the asteroid. Explosions and laser pulses could be seen in the distance, where Milori ships continued circling as they fired on other Milori ships.
"Close the open broadcast."
"It's closed, ma'am."
"Do you have Dwillaak's last order not to fire?"
"Yes, Admiral."
"Broadcast it continuously, audio only, every thirty seconds."
"Aye, Admiral."
Jenetta sat back in her chair and watc
hed the holographic map. Dozens of Milori ships were circling the base now, firing with abandon at any Milori ships they passed. Nuclear explosions blinked like enormous fireflies everywhere as torpedoes found their targets. The space around the asteroid was alive with a light show of laser pulses.
Jenetta slowly and very deliberately took a sip from her coffee mug. It appeared as if she hadn't a care in the world other than that she might be scalded by the hot coffee. The officers around her watched in nervous but quiet desperation. On the bridges of the Space Command warships in the battle groups, the captains, officers, and crew watched the images of the battle forwarded from the CIC and waited anxiously for Jenetta to indicate they could join the melee. Some marveled at Jenetta's amazingly calm posture and referred to her by her 'Ice Queen' nickname.
The one-sided destruction raged for perhaps fifteen minutes. The ring of stationary Milori vessels began to take on the appearance of a huge vessel graveyard as the circling Milori ships continued to fire an unchallenged storm of torpedoes and laser pulses that opened huge sections of the ships to space. Ships bleeding life-giving atmosphere were everywhere.
When the destruction of the Milori ships was almost complete, Jenetta said, "All Space Command battle groups move in and mop up this Milori detritus."
The circling Milori ships immediately broke off their attack and moved out of the holographic image. The first of the battle groups arrived a few minutes later. As planned, the Space Command ships began circling and firing in a similar fashion on any Milori ship that fired a weapon. The Milori, for their part, liberated from the restriction that they hold their fire, released their frustration by using every weapon still functional. But the destruction rained down upon them by their own had reduced their capability to almost insignificant levels. Nevertheless, the fire drew an immediate return from Space Command vessels and the space around the asteroid once again filled with torpedoes and laser pulses.
The battle seemed to rage forever, but in reality it lasted less than thirty minutes from the time the first Milori ship was struck by a torpedo or laser blast. When space around the station was again clear of weapons fire, the Milori ships had been reduced to near lifeless, destroyed and twisting hulks. The Space Command ships, while mainly targeting those ships returning fire, had poured laser fire into practically everything that might represent a threat, further guaranteeing that no more fire would come from the ship once the fight had ended.
Satisfied the Milori ships posed no further threat, Jenetta said, "All ships break off your attack and secure your vessels."
"What about the Milori that escaped, Admiral?" Captain Donovan, the head of the JAG office asked from just behind her left shoulder. "Aren't we going to pursue them?"
"No Milori ships got away, Captain. Captain Wavala, compile damage assessment lists and begin the clean up. I have a message to send from my office and I'll return when I'm through. Carry on."
"Aye, Admiral."
Jenetta calmly stood and left the Command Center, with her aide, Lt. Commander Ashraf following. Captain Donovan waited until the door had closed behind them before turning to Captain DeWitt, the head of the Weapons Research section.
"What did she mean, 'no Milori ships got away'? I saw them leave with my own eyes."
"Michael, there's no such weapon as a Madness Ray. We simply emitted a low-power, high-pitched noise on all IDS bands. Research showed us that the Milori were extra-sensitive to sounds in that precise range. The hair that covers their body actually begins to vibrate ever so slightly and that makes their skin tingle. The sound was picked up and heard on any ships with open com channels. Since all ships had to remain in constant communication, the sound was acoustically prevalent on all the bridges of the Milori ships. Our own ships filtered the sound frequency, and the Milori could have done that as well if they'd had enough time to solve the problem. Did you notice that when our Space Command battle groups moved in there were only a hundred and one SC ships circling the station?"
"No, of course not. Who could count circling ships during an engagement?"
"Don't feel bad. Dwillaak never noticed that his invasion fleet had increased by sixty-two ships."
"Sixty-two? You mean that the Milori ships attacking the others were ours?"
"Yes," she said, smiling, "they were the M-designate ships that Admiral Carver captured in previous battles with the Milori. They disconnected their Space Command signature transponders before their arrival, so they had to get out of the way before our task groups reached the station. They arrived here in small clusters, like the Milori vessels, and took up positions around the asteroid, interspersing themselves in the ring of genuine Milori ships."
"So the Milori never fired at them because they thought they were fellow ships that had fallen under the spell of the Madness Ray."
"Yes, it's just another of Admiral Carver's incredibly innovative battle tactics. And it worked as well as the Admiral outlined it. She figured Dwillaak would eventually order the other ships to destroy the circling ships, purely out of self-defense, so she planted the idea in his head that she wanted him to destroy those ships. She knew he would resist any such suggestion by her. She had given orders that his ship, once identified, be especially targeted. After he was taken out, the repeating message held the others at bay while they were destroyed, or nearly destroyed. The Milori are trained to obey their commanders at all costs, even to their deaths."
Captain Donovan began to laugh, slowly at first, then more and more heartily. The release of tension became infectious and the normally somber crew in the CIC broke into laughter, clapping, and hugging.
When the merriment had subsided, Captain Donovan said to Captain DeWitt, "I actually sat down last night and updated my Last Will and Testament. I guess I temporarily forgot just who our base commander is."
Jenetta sat in her office and tried to calm down. Although appearing icily calm on the outside while in the CIC, her stomach had been churning and was only now starting to settle. The adrenaline rush was over and her hands were shaking slightly, so she wrapped them tightly around a mug of coffee. She wanted to wait until she was perfectly composed before recording the message, so she used the time to call up and review the latest damage assessments. By the time all ships had reported in with their preliminary information, she was prepared to send her message.
Sitting up ramrod straight and straightening her tunic, she tapped the record button on her com unit.
"Message to Admiral Moore and the Members of the Admiralty Board, Space Command Supreme Headquarters, Earth.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the Milori invasion force arrived at Stewart at 0208 on this date, immediately encircling the station and demanding my surrender. I naturally refused and the battle commenced. Lasting just twenty-nine minutes, the battle is now over and I'm pleased to announce that we have destroyed the entire Milori force of three hundred eighty-eight. We lost no ships, but I regret that we did lose twenty-one crewmembers and have eighty-six injured. We suffered two torpedo strikes and hundreds of laser hits. The station itself never came under attack and so suffered no damage. All ships but two are fully space-worthy. Repairs to the destroyers Lima and Atlanta should be completed within thirty days. Copies of all video logs of the engagement will be forwarded within twenty-four hours for assessment by evaluation teams.
"Jenetta Alicia Carver, Rear Admiral, Upper Half, Base Commander of Stewart Space Command Base, message complete."
Jenetta tapped the send button and sat back in her chair to finish her coffee, then rose and walked back to the CIC. As she entered the Center, she was greeted by loud applause. She smiled and sat in the commander's chair as the clapping died down and everyone got back to work. The brief departure from military protocol was acceptable.
"Any update on the damage assessments," she asked.
"Negative, Admiral. All ships have begun making emergency repairs."
"Should we open the port doors, Admiral?" The port operations officer asked.
"N
ot yet. Let's wait until we're sure the Milori ships near the doors are definitely out of commission. I don't want to risk having any stray torpedoes entering the port from a ship that's playing possum."
"Aye, Admiral, but perhaps we can tow the Milori ships near the entrance to the rear of the asteroid for now so that port operations can begin."
"Very well. Com, contact the M-designate ships to learn if they've reengaged their Space Command signature. If they have, have them return to assist with the cleanup."
"Aye, Admiral."
Several minutes later, the com chief said, "All M-designate group leaders report their ships have reengaged their Space Command signature transponder equipment. They're returning to the base to assist."
"Very good. Tell them to dispatch their space tugs and begin hauling the Milori ships near the port entrance to an area well away from the base. Have them coordinate with Port Control to establish a farm somewhere that will contain the wrecked ships."
"Aye, Admiral."
After that, there wasn't much to do except watch the cleanup efforts. Once the area facing the port entrance was clear, Jenetta ordered that the enormous doors on the asteroid be opened. The port's space tugs began returning the confiscated ships to the farms where they'd been stored before. The freighters that had taken the containers away were ordered to return to the station and restore the cargo farms that had been emptied. It would probably take a couple of days just to get the farms properly re-established.
Remaining in the CIC for several more hours, Jenetta finally lowered the status from 'War Active' to 'Standby' and left for her quarters to get some sleep. She would have to conduct a press conference sometime during the day and she didn't want to be falling asleep on the rostrum.
Rising in mid-afternoon, Jenetta showered, fed her hungry pets, and headed directly to her office. Her aide, Lt. Commander Ashraf, again congratulated her on a stunning victory and then briefed her on the current situation. The station, never having been attacked, was operating normally, although traffic was light on the concourse. Ships were still making emergency repairs. The two struck by torpedoes were secured in enclosed shipyard docks so repair efforts could begin. The station's engineers and the ship's own engineers would not have to wear bulky E.V.A. suits while working on the hull repairs. The Milori ships had all been moved to a farm area, and the crews of the rechristened M-designate ships were going through them one by one looking for Milori survivors. So far, with almost half the ships checked, they had found just a hundred eighty-four Milori still alive.
Castle Vroman Page 24
