Exodus: Empires at War: Book 7: Counter Strike

by Doug Dandridge

  The holo showed the G4 star that was at the center of this system, as well as the eight planets that orbited around it. The fourth world was the system prize, one which had until recently been a border outpost of the Fenri. That world was green and blue, and with a thought the Admiral expanded it on the holo, looking at the shape of large continents sitting amidst deep oceans. A world they had freed from the Fenri, all of its slaves now free citizens of the New Terran Empire.

  It would be so easy to just fortify this system and let them come at us, thought the Admiral. That the territorial xenophobe carnivores that were the Fenri would try to take this system back was a given. Such a plan would have the greatest chance of success. They could totally crush the bulk of the enemy fleet, with minefields, orbital fortifications, and well hidden fleet units that could engage when they wanted to.

  The only problem was they had troops trapped behind enemy lines, a lot of soldiers. And the Empire was not about to leave them in that position. So we have to fight our way there, relieve the Army, and defeat the enemy so totally that they are out of this war.

  He continued to look at the holo, moving his view out to beyond the hyper barrier, where the warships were gathered, almost a thousand of them, the remains of the original expeditionary force, with some reinforcements. And a couple of hundred ships that were recognizably not those of the Empire.

  “Do my eyes deceive me, or are those Magravi ships?” asked the Admiral, looking at a battleship that, while built along general human lines, was still subtly different. The Empire supplied them with the tech they had needed to build up their own fleet, after their liberation from the Lasharan Autocracy.

  “That they are, Admiral,” said the Captain, nodding toward the ship the senior officer was studying. “They arrived seven hours ago, and we are expecting some Klashak as well.”

  Both were really unexpected additions to his order of battle. The plan had been for both alien forces to contain the Lasharans, but many in the Admiralty were sure that the religious fanatics were well and truly contained, after the total defeat of their fleet, and the merchant ships they had tried to use to smuggle guerilla fighters across the borders. Obviously, the two alien governments had thought they had more ships than needed for that task.

  The Klashak were an interesting species, one of live bearing amphibians who required a humid environment to survive, whether that was on their planets, ships or suits. Klashak were physically strong and mentally agile, and had been valued slave labor to the Lasharans. Until the Empire had interfered, and taken all of the amphibians’ systems away from the Autocracy.

  The Margravi were even more interesting. A ten limbed insectoid race, their exoskeletons only allowed them movement on light gravity worlds. Their muscular systems required a higher level of oxygen than most species, and the number of worlds that suited their forms were limited. Instead, they used other species as allies to farm their worlds, while they mostly inhabited great space habitats and asteroids, low gravity environments that allowed them freedom of movement.

  The most unusual attribute of the insectoids was that they were a true group mind. An individual Magrav was about as intelligent as a Terran cat, the old, unimproved variety. With their minds linked together with the radio emitting organs of their brains, they were frightfully intelligent. The only weaknesses of the group mind was the limited range of their transmissions, and the susceptibility of their linkage to jamming. On ships that was not a problem. Their strength was that each military unit fought as a whole, with little regard to the fate of any single member of the swarm, as long as the mission was accomplished. The weakness to their organization was that the makeup of the mind changed according to its number of living members, and that makeup could change with illnesses and death. It was like a huge brained organism going into battle, and losing some of its mind, memory and processing power with every death.

  Because of that difference from other species, Len knew he would have to think carefully about how he deployed the aliens. That he would use them was a given. The insectoids were totally fearless, incapable of feeling any kind of individual sense of self-preservation. Only the species was important, and only the mission of the group was vital to its existence, as it affected the survival of the race.

  About a light minute in from the flagship was the most important construct going up. The frame was almost completed, three kilometers on a side, able to handle even the huge superfreighters that would be bringing materials to this area. Lenkowski looked at the information below the still uncompleted gate, seeing that the estimated time of completion was a little under three hours. And then we can start bringing in ships from the Supersystem, thought the Admiral. Many of those ships would come from the same force that had just won the battle against the Ca’cadasans, those with little to no damage. None would have wormholes on board, since it was considered much too risky to send ships through a wormhole gate with other holes aboard. Other ships could bring more wormholes out to this region, in about three weeks to a month, long after the operation had started, and hopefully finished, successfully. But the technology of wormhole gates would be primary to this battle, allowing communication between task forces, and in bringing major fleet forces to bear that could be sent back to the Supersystem after the battle to be redeployed for the next operation against the Cacas.

  We’ll be doing most of our planning on the way, thought Lenkowski, trying to will the gate to get finished faster, and of course failing to have any effect on its construction time.

  “Show me to my office,” he told one of the bridge officers, then followed the man to his day cabin just off the main corridor leading to the flag control room. The office was spacious enough for several admirals to work in, with holographic windows on the walls looking out over the local space, beyond the hull that was five hundred meters away from this most protected area of the ship. It had the feel of an observation room, without any of the drawbacks.

  Len sat at the huge desk and opened the holographic control panel, getting to work on setting his dispositions and strategies for the attack. He already knew what was coming through the gate, and what he had in hand, and now his task was to come up with the best allotment of forces to get the job done with maximum damage to the enemy, and the least possible harm to his own fleet.

  The time passed by quickly with the mental effort of work. So quickly that the Admiral was not aware of how much had gone by, until the com signal brought him back to the here and now.

  “They’re coming through, Admiral,” said the voice from the flag bridge.

  Lenkwoski didn’t need to ask who they were. He got up from his desk after shutting down the holographic control panel, then headed up the corridor to the flag bridge. More of the stations were manned now, people monitoring the new arrivals and transmitting their gathering points to them. The central holo tank showed a couple of new icons moving from the gate to the outer system, identification text under each. A viewer on the forward wall was centered on the gate, and the next ship coming through.

  It was a standard battleship, fifteen million tons, with the ID Prince Walter Konev underneath. It came through almost sedately, since there was no emergency on this end, and no one wanted a massive warship slamming into the frame of the gate. As soon as it was completely through, moving at a half kilometer a second, it accelerated away at a hundred gravities, clearing the vicinity of the gate at almost a kilometer per second per second. Moments later the nose of the next ship poked through, repeating the procedure as it headed off on the tail of the last vessel. The third battleship in that squadron came through soon after, then the first unit of the next group.

  A couple of minutes later the first of the ships that Len had been waiting for with anticipation. A twelve million ton hyper VII fleet carrier that was not intended to engage other ships in close combat. No, each carried over a hundred inertialess fighters, just like the ones that had caused so much damage to the Cacas at the Battle of Congreeve. None of these ships had been
blooded in that battle, but they were four more ships and attack wings that would gain their experience against the Fenri, before being later unleashed against the Cacas.

  Two hours into the transfer the scout force started off, over a hundred battle cruisers, two hundred light cruisers and four hundred destroyers, the eyes of the fleet. They would sweep space in four task groups, each with one wormhole equipped flagship, giving Len near real time intelligence. Hopefully they would be able to blast through anything the Fenri tried to put in front of them. If not, they would at least fix the enemy forces so the main fleet could come up and destroy them in detail.

  After four hours all of the warships that were going to come through had exited the hole, one every ten seconds on average, with a few longer breaks as new units maneuvered into place. Over fourteen hundred ships, predominantly heavier units. And Len looked over his new order of battle, over four thousand ships, besides the scout force. He figured the Fenri would still outnumber him in total units, but not in tonnage and firepower. And even if they did outnumber the humans in the last two categories, Len was still sure the New Terran Empire’s tradition and tactical flexibility would carry the day.

  The next half an hour was spent with the Fleet train coming through. Freighters, superfreighters, antimatter tankers, missile colliers. And ten assault ships, carrying three more heavy divisions, the relief force for the troops still trapped in the Fenri Empire. More ships would come later, troop transports, more freighters, and the ships that would escort them from here to Len’s battle force.

  “Fleet reports ready,” said the Fleet Com Officer, looking back at Lenkowski.

  “Is my staff aboard?” asked the Grand Fleet Admiral.

  “Their shuttle is on final approach,” said the officer. “They should be docking in three minutes.”

  “Order the first task groups to jump to hyper, then,” said Lenkowski. “Let’s go ahead and raise the curtain on this thing.”

  Moments after the order was transmitted the first task forces jumped to hyper. Minutes later the next TFs jumped, and after them others.

  “Jumping now,” came the voice of the ship’s Captain over the com, moments after Len had been informed that his staff was on board. The hole in space opened up in front of King Edward II, and the twenty million ton ship left normal space, heading into harm’s way.

  Chapter Five

  I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end.

  Margaret Thatcher

  CAPITULUM, JEWEL. NOVEMBER 25TH, 1001.

  Samantha Ogden Lee sat at her desk and shook her head. What next?, she thought. Isn’t it enough to have to fight a war with the Lords, as well as with several enemies from without the Empire. Now they want me to put together an Imperial wedding. Just the security on that thing will be a nightmare.

  The wedding of an Emperor, or, in a few cases in the past, Empress, was just about the biggest deal there was in Imperial Society. The only thing that was bigger was a coronation, and they had just gone through one of those. Not only would Sean be legally bonding himself with Jennifer, making her the vessel of any heirs he would be bringing into the Galaxy, but she would be considered the Empress. Of course, if Sean died, she would not assume the throne. She would be the Empress Mother if there was an heir, or a Dowager Empress if there wasn’t. Sean’s closest living relative would be the next in line if there wasn’t an heir.

  The problem with an Imperial Wedding, at this time, was the people who would have to miss the ceremony due to wartime duties. Everyone and anyone would want a seat at that wedding, and some who would otherwise be automatic attendees would leave empty seats, which many would be fighting for. Security would also be a nightmare, especially with the shape shifters, the Yugalyth, added to the equation. Everyone would have to be checked out, and there would be more guards than were the norm, making the space even more dear.

  The ceremony would normally be held in the Reformed Catholic Basilica in Capitulum, which could seat several hundred thousand people, while several million more waited outside to see the couple when they left the church. They could seat more people if they held the ceremony outside, perhaps on the palace grounds, or in a major stadium, of which the city had many. That would lead to even greater security problems, with the Emperor and his bride exposed to long distance fire. Technology could provide some protection, but would it be enough?

  And the Lords will raise hell that the Emperor is marrying a commoner, she thought with a frown. It doesn’t matter that she has been given the title of duchess. They will still see her as a commoner, and the Emperor’s choosing of her, and not someone from an old family line, as a collective slap in the face.

  Samantha sighed again, wishing she was still a serving Fleet officer. At least then she only had to worry about dying.

  “You have a call from the Prime Minister, ma’am,” said the voice of her assistant over the com.

  “Haruko,” said Samantha as the holo of the Prime Minister, Countess Haruko Kawasaki, appeared. “How goes Parliament?”

  “Like herding especially obnoxious cats,” said the small woman on the other end of the com. “Though I do have report a major triumph.”

  “The Archduke?”

  “”That’s the one,” said Haruko, nodding. “It seems he underwent a religious conversion while he was with the Fleet. He came back a full convert, and immediately attacked Countess Zhee and her clique in the Opposition Party.”

  “And Zhee? What was her response?”

  “She was livid. The good Countess threatened to throw Marconi out of their party. Then she stormed out of the chamber after she called for a walkout.”

  “Shit. That doesn’t sound good.” Samantha was already having a lot of problems with the Opposition Party. With an angry Zhee stirring up trouble the problem might be rising to the proportions of a true crisis. And I would sure hate to have to throw that clique into jail. Well, that’s a lie. I would love to throw them all into a cell. But the problems would outweigh my pleasure.

  “Actually,” said the other woman, her smile growing, “it was very good. Only about a third of the party followed her from the chamber. The rest stayed, in a show of solidarity with Marconi.”

  “So we broke her power base?” asked Samantha after a short laugh.

  “Or we added to his,” said Kawasaki, nodding. “She will never be able to muster more than forty percent of the vote for her platform, even if she can convince all the other parties who are her group’s historical allies. It’s more likely that she’ll carry less than twenty five percent of any vote.”

  “So she won’t be able to swing a No Confidence against Sean?”

  “Not after what Marconi did after she walked out,” said Kawasaki, smiling once again. The woman shut her mouth and continued to smile.

  “Don’t keep me in the dark, my dear,” said Samantha finally, her anxious wish to know overcoming her desire to not play the Prime Minister’s game.

  “He asked to speak before the Lords. And he gave a speech that made him sound like Sean’s greatest fan. And a staunch supporter of the Fleet and Army. Marconi is a dynamic speaker, one of the reasons he was such a pain in the ass to us up to this point.”

  “Maybe we should ship some more of the Lords to the front lines,” said Samantha, after a moment’s thought. “If it doesn’t convert them, it might at least get rid of a couple of the fools.”

  “And maybe Marconi should be the Prime Minister,” said Haruko in a quiet voice.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He’s much more effective speaker,” said the Prime Minister. “He has a much easier time rallying the troops.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to trust him that far, Haruko,” said Samantha, choosing her words carefully. “You are someone I can trust. That Sean can trust. Plus, you aren’t that bad at swaying a chamber yourself. So, no. I’m not letting you out of your job.”

  “I would prefer to serve where I am,” said the Countess, a look of relie
f on her face. “And what about the Donut? I heard that the attack was foiled through official channels, but nothing about how much damage the Cacas caused.”

  “It was close. Too damn close, as far as I’m concerned. It will take months to repair all the damage. Maybe as long as a couple of years. But she’ll be making wormholes again this time tomorrow, after they check out all the generating systems.”

  “That is good,” said the Prime Minister, nodding. “I don’t know what we would do without it.”

  “We lost communications with the Elysium Empire at the time of the attack,” said Samantha, something she also was worried about. “The earliest we can expect a message through the hypercom link is late tomorrow,” she continued, referring to the line of stations that sent com lasers through hyper VIII, moving the signals at one hundred and sixty thousand times the speed of light through that higher dimension as compared to normal space. Elysium was just over two thousand light years from Jewel, and the relay could send a message from one capital to the other in one point seven days. That had been considered blazing fast, until the wormhole system came along. And we won’t have that in place until we send another one by hyper VII ship to the Elysium capital, which will take weeks.

  “What do you think happened at the other end?” asked the Prime Minister, her eyes wide.

  “I don’t know, but it can’t be good. Their end of the wormhole was on a heavily guarded station, so it would have taken a major assault force to take it. And estimates are that at least two thousand of the damned things came through from Elysium space. Add to that a blast of considerable proportions that came through the gate, and the fact that the Cacas were dealing in hundred gig warheads, and I have a bad feeling that something horrible has happened there.”

  “I hope they are OK,” said the Prime Minister. “I have liked all of the Brakakak I have met.”