Exodus: Empires at War: Book 12: Time Strike
Page 31
Some of his people still looked distracted, and the news of the near disaster back home was all that many could talk about. According to the news, a group of terrorists under the leadership of a renegade nobleman and a discredited scientist had tried to change time, after infiltrating the Donut. Taelis knew the truth, or as much of it as anyone knew. He hoped that those in the Capital could keep the young hothead under control, and not allow any more disastrous decisions to be made.
And what would you have done, Taelis, if you had been presented with the possibility of saving hundreds of millions of lives? he thought. He was more than happy that such an opportunity had not been dropped into his lap.
“I still think it’s an unwarranted risk to put those VI ships out there like that,” complained one of his task group commanders, attending the meeting by wormhole com. “In fact, Admiral, several of my captains are refusing to put their ships at risk transiting into VII.”
Mgonda glared at the officer. Many people hadn’t liked the idea of moving hyper VI ships into hyper VII by wormhole. The ships were not able to enter and leave the space on their own. They had enough hyperdrive capability, if pushed to near the maximum, to stay in VII. They could be transported there by wormhole gates, entering hyper VI and leaving into hyper VII through a specially constructed gate. That type of gate was in short supply, and without them, those ships were doomed to eventually fall out of hyper in a catastrophic translation.
But he needed hyper VII ships to carry out his plans, and though he had many more than had been available at the beginning of the war, almost a third of his force, that still left two thirds of his fleet unable to chase down and get in front of the Caca forces. His VI ships could launch missiles into the higher dimension, but only if they were in the proper alignment. Otherwise, he was restricted to bringing them to battle within normal space, which took the cooperation of the enemy. Right now it didn’t look they were going to cooperate.
“Those captains are disobeying orders?”
“That’s what they are doing, all right,” said another officer, turning her glare onto the other task group commander.
“All three of the officers are refusing, and threatening to resign their commissions before they allow their ships to go through the wormholes,” continued the first task group commander.
“They can resign their commissions,” growled Mgonda. “After they have been tried for cowardice in the face of the enemy. For now they are to be relieved of command and thrown in the brig. And they will be aboard their ships when they translate into VII.”
That brought some murmuring from the officers present. Mgonda slammed a hand down on the desk and glared at each officer in sequence as he swept the room.
“Make no mistake. I will not tolerate failure to obey orders. Fleet personnel are expected to go into combat at the risk of life and limb. I wouldn’t tolerate a ship commander refusing orders to close with the enemy, even if the odds are against he and his ship coming back. As far as I’m concerned, this is the same thing.
“Now. Let’s get to business. Half of the fleet will be in position to take out this finger of the right wing in this system, while we take this one in hyperspace before they reach the same system. Which leaves this, the largest central formation.”
“And they are heading right for the same system?”
“Yes. They are. And I hope to be there to meet them. I know there is the risk that they will be warned by the other Caca formations, since they are sure to have wormhole coms. The question then is, will they try to evacuate by wormhole gate, or will they bring in more ships through the same gate, and present us with a more potent force?”
That was the question. Intelligence thought there was another fleet out there. They still thought it was going to strike the center of the frontier between the Republic and the Fenri Empire, an expanse of almost two thousand light years. But what if they brought them here instead, building up enough of a force to defeat and destroy his fleet? Then we will just have to fight another delaying action until Len and the rest of the fleet gets here.
* * *
“Enemy ships entering sensor range ahead,” called out one of the bridge officers. “Straight ahead, and on a heading right for us.”
The high admiral grunted as he gave a head motion of acknowledgement. The enemy would probably try to change their vector when they saw how big his force was. They just didn’t have enough hyper VII ships to challenge him in this dimension, and he knew for a fact that a large number of those ships were closing in around the system he was on the way to reinforce.
“Three hundred ships so far, my Lord. About a third of them capital class.”
The high admiral was not worried. He had eight thousand ships, a quarter of them superbattleships. At most they would send a thousand vessels at him, maybe two. And he would blow them out of hyperspace with his weight of missiles, even if they had wormhole launchers. Those missiles would still be dangerous, but they couldn’t sneak up on him like they could in normal space, since they had to maintain their own hyperfield once they left the launchers.
“Six hundred, my Lord,” said the tactical officer with a grin.
“We will have a good total this day,” said another of the officers.
And why are they not starting to change their vectors? thought the admiral. They might not have detected his entire fleet, but surely they had picked up enough of it to know that they were outmatched.
“A thousand, my Lord. With more coming.”
The high admiral stared at the plot, wondering how many ships they had. They can’t have many more, can they? They sure didn’t look like they were panicking at the sight of a superior force. The ships kept appearing as they entered range. Two thousand, then three, four, five.
“All ships, prepare to fire.” It was too late to try and avoid the enemy force. They were committed. If they started to decel they would just slow their passing, lengthening the engagement. And they were already going as fast as they could in this dimension.
“Fire.”
Eight thousand ships fired all their tubes, releasing over a hundred thousand weapons to fly through hyper VII at the enemy. Moments later the enemy returned fire, two hundred thousand missiles appearing on the plot, many in the groups that denoted wormhole launch. Thousands more entered every second along with their firing ships, and suddenly the high admiral realized that he had fallen into a trap.
More icons appeared on the plot, these smaller and more numerous than the offensive missiles, most moving in the same clusters as the wormhole launched weapons, boosting at full power to separate. Some of the initial Ca’cadasan volley disappeared as the smaller icons detonated, filling space with plasma and radiation that formed a screen between the enemy fleet and his ships. Nebulous clouds moved out from the front of the enemy fleet, the ancient plasma weapons of the humans, firing matter that would only last seconds in hyper, long enough to engulf some more of the wave. Some still got through, and some of the enemy ships still died. But not enough.
His ships got off thirteen more volleys, those that could, before the last one died.
* * *
“What do we have going on, Sondra?” asked Sean, picking up the anxiety of the woman from her body language. He himself was still feeling some trepidation in interacting with subordinates who knew about his almost empire ending error. The riot act had been read, and he was now on his best behavior, having no doubt that they would bring him down if he ever tried another stunt like that.
“The anticipated third Caca force is on the move, your Majesty. And as we thought, they are coming through the center.”
“And Len is in place to take them on?”
“He is, your majesty. The only problem is the disparity of forces.”
“What are we talking about, Sondra?” asked the Emperor, rubbing both sides of his nose as he felt the tension growing. “We had predicted the same size as the others, right? About thirty thousand ships. Maybe a quarter more.”
&
nbsp; “At least fifty thousand, your majesty. Intelligence thinks they are throwing everything they could gather on this side of their empire at us.”
“That many?” gasped Sean as he pulled up the latest situation map of the front. Mgonda was still engaged with the Cacas in the former Fenri empire. There were still twenty thousand enemy ships on that front. They had been retreating under the pressure of his force, but now the indications were they were once again advancing. “They will slice right through Len’s force and into the heart of the empire.”
“It will still take them a week to get through the empty space of the front and into the empire, your majesty. What we are recommending is for Mgonda to give up most of his force. He was successful in delaying them before. He should be able to do it again.”
“And send those ships to Len? Will they be enough?”
“Maybe. Probably not. We still don’t know if this is all of their attacking force, your Majesty. There could be another wave coming through. I recommend that we send everything we have, Home Fleet, the closer sector fleets, everything our allies can give us.”
“And risk giving them another opening, another weak point.”
“It is a risk,” said Sondra, her eyes narrowing as her jaw clenched.
She’s scared out of her wits, thought the Emperor. He was, too. If they guessed wrong, this could be the final battle. If they guessed right, they might gut the Caca fleet, which would leave Ca’cadasan space open to invasion. If he had enough left to mount an invasion.
“Do it. If anyone complains, do it anyway. If some member of Parliament threatens action, let me know. I will deal with them. And you get to deal with Mgonda.”
Sondra groaned for a moment. “That’s my job. If you can just keep the Lords off my tail.”
“I will. Now what about more of our fighters? Can we get more of them into the action?”
“We already have all our trained crews deployed.”
“What about those in training?”
“They’re not ready, your Majesty.” The CNO looked away for a moment, then back at her monarch. “Sean. Those crews are not ready. We could send those in their last cycle, but even then they would take heavy casualties. And any we send would not be available in the future, when we’re ready to attack their empire.”
“If we don’t destroy this fleet, we won’t be attacking their empire. We will be open to an overwhelming force, coming right down our throats. So put every crew that can fly without running into stray asteroids into the field. I know it’s a shitty deal, but we need them, now.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get them moving.”
“Look at this as an opportunity, Sondra. We have a chance to take out their entire fleet. Or at least what they can afford to deploy for offensive operations.” And if you believe that, I might have to find something else a little smarter to run my Fleet.
“I’ll start getting everything moving, sir. Just don’t let those idiots in Parliament get in my way.”
* * *
“Dammit, Sondra. I need those ships.”
“I know you do, Taelis. But without them, Len will get crushed. It isn’t what we wanted to do, your Grace. But it is what we have to do.”
Mgonda shook his head, feeling his face burn with anger. Of course she was right. But he was on the verge of bringing the remainder of the enemy fleet into battle and destroying them. If they got away from him now, they could retake every system he had liberated from them. And all of those Imperial troops and rebels would again be under bombardment from orbit.
“Can you give me two days, Admiral. In two days I could hit them hard enough to shatter this force, and then liberate the rest of former Fenri empire with what you leave me.”
“Shit, Taelis. I’ll have to run that past the Emperor. And I’m pretty sure I know what he is going to say. In a week they will be into Sector IV. A week later they could have overrun most of the sector.”
“Let my tactical staff look over the situation,” said Mgonda, a slight smile on his face. “Maybe we can turn our delay into a surprise against them.”
“Make your plans, your Grace,” said Sondra, shaking her head. “I’ll talk to Sean. But I promise nothing. Go ahead and make your plans for moving those ships back to Len as well. I think that is the most likely result, no matter how you beg.”
“I don’t beg, Sondra,” said the laughing duke. “I make reasoned requests. And anyone with a lick of sense soon realizes I am right.”
* * *
“What do you think, Sondra? Is his plan feasible?”
“It could work, your Majesty. He’ll be working on the slimmest of margins, but if anyone can pull it off, Taelis can. And Len will not be ready to strike for another hundred hours or so. He has enough in place to make contact and shadow the enemy. And enough to sting them.”
“But the decision is mine,” said Sean, frowning into the holo.
“Yes, sir. The buck stops with you, as I think some old Earth leader once said.”
Harry Truman, thought Sean with a smile. He had watched old documentaries on the man, who had made the hard decisions, and blamed the outcomes on no one but himself. Quite a role model. And at least they were still letting him make these kind of decisions, something to be grateful about, even if it was hard on him.
“Let Mgonda hold onto his toys for another forty-eight hours. That gives him time for one massive strike. If that doesn’t send the Cacas running, he’ll have to deal with the remainder of their fleet with what we leave him.”
“I was hoping you would make that decision, your Majesty. Or at least part of me was.”
And I feel the same way, thought the Emperor. On the one hand, delaying giving the forces to Len could lead to higher casualties on that front. But on the other, if would be inhumane to force the former slaves to have to undergo another invasion by the Cacas and the Fenri, after they had already sacrificed so much to resist and delay. Not to mention the Imperial forces that were still under siege.
“Keep me informed,” said Sean, looking into the face of his senior admiral. And thanks for forgiving my slip into madness.
* * *
“We cannot win this offensive, Supreme Lord,” stated the analyst, keeping his eyes to the floor.
“Look at me while you are speaking,” hissed Jresstratta. The male hesitated for a moment, then looked up, locking eyes with the Emperor. We have to get rid of this fawning subservience, thought the monarch. He wanted confident males to tell him the truth, not beings too afraid of his wrath to speak their minds. “Now, why do you say we cannot win?”
“They have destroyed most of the fleet in Fenri space in the last ninety-six hours, Supreme Lord. Their ships, of which they seem to have an endless supply, will soon be reinforcing their center. And in that center they are also exacting a toll with their new weapons. Add to that the new offensive predicted on the Klavarta front, and we are in a no-win situation. We must pull back and prepare to defend our own space.”
“Never,” yelled the Supreme Admiral.
“You forget yourself, Supreme Admiral,” growled the Emperor, turning a glare toward the officer. “I will listen to this officer’s counsel. Then, it will be my decision to make, and no one else’s.”
“Forgive me, Supreme Lord.”
“According to my analysis, Supreme Lord, we will be able to ambush them along the way as they penetrate our space, using our major systems. We can fortify, impede their progress, and then bring them to battle when we have more of the new weapons we are working on.”
More of the weapons the humans have surprised us with, thought the Emperor. He wondered if they would ever catch the damned creatures, much less surpass them. It was looking like a hopeless stern chase.
“That is not the way of a warrior race,” mumbled another male, closing his mouth when Jresstratta turned his glare that way.
“He is correct,” said the Supreme Admiral. “Forgive me, Supreme Lord, but warriors attack. They don’t fall back and defend.”
“They are weak creatures, Supreme Lord,” hissed the admiral. “We are the strong. And the strong do not retreat.”
“We retreat if I so order,” roared the Emperor, slamming all of his fists on the table. “And I order a retreat. Now carry out my wishes.”
The males vacated the room in a hurry, some turning hostile looks at the Emperor for a moment before leaving. Jresstratta sat at the table for some time, thinking about the unheard of attitude of the high ranking officers. Past Emperors would have had everyone who had raised a voice in dispute put to death. He couldn’t afford to lose those males, not yet. But if this kept up he might have to.
JUNE 22ND, 1003. FENRI SPACE.
“Yes,” shouted Mgonda, pumping a fist in the air. He knew that war was terrible, that on his orders hundreds of thousands of intelligent beings had just died. But by the Gods, the rush of winning the ultimate contest was like nothing else he had ever experienced.
On the viewer, transmitted from one of his wormhole equipped ships, a Caca superbattleship exploded in a bright flash, glowing plasma speeding out from what had been twenty-five million tons of warship. If they were correct, that had been the flagship of this particular wing of the Caca invasion, the last one he had to deal with. And hopefully the last one that carried a wormhole.
“The other ships are starting to group together,” called out one of the flag bridge techs a couple of minutes later.
Of course they are, thought Mgonda. They just lost the brains of their fleet, and whomever just took over has fallen back on doctrine and habit, just like I hoped he would.