“What do you think, Jimmy?” asked Doctor Yu of the IIA agent that was her security shadow, and her lover. Jimmy Chung had gotten her the clearance to find out just what the hell his agency thought about these new infiltrators.
“I think we may be hearing from our friends yet again,” said the short Asian man. “And I thank the Universe that they did not succeed with the Emperor.”
“Thank God for that,” agreed Yu, a Reformed Catholic herself, while she knew Jimmy was a Buddhist. “This Emperor has been a whirlwind since he got back. I didn’t think he would accomplish half as much as he has.”
“This may have made that just a little more difficult,” said Chung, putting out a hand to keep her from stepping into a corridor while a company of Marines jogged by. After the one hundred and eighty men and women had passed on their daily run Jimmy waved her back into the corridor.
“Why would this assassination attempt make his job harder?” asked Lucille, looking into the agent’s handsome face. “I would think that he would garner the sympathy vote with the people.”
“The people don’t vote in the Lords,” said Jimmy, shaking his head. “And now the Lords have been hurt, if not gutted. There may be whispers about this being the Emperor’s fault, if not something he planned to garner that sympathy.”
“People couldn’t believe that,” said Yu, her hands going to her face.
“Doctor Yu. You are a certified genius, one of the most brilliant people in your field. That means you are very unqualified to judge the stupidity of the common man and woman in the street.”
Later Yu was seeing just what Jimmy was talking about, while sitting in her quarters and watching an almost real time cast from Jewel. A guest from the Lords was making the very point that there was suspicion that someone in the Emporal Branch, being careful not to mention the Emperor himself, might have orchestrated the attempt. A member from the Commons was on as well, as she vehemently denied that any such shenanigans would be perpetrated by any Emperor. She eventually turned the cast off in disgust, feeling sorry that the fine young man she had met. To be made a victim, and then blamed by some for the tragedy.
“I’ve got some good news, ma’am,” came the voice of Doctor Suzie Burnes, the new expert on negative matter. “I think we may have found a partial solution to our problem.”
“How much of a solution?” asked Yu, excited, and trying to keep a tight rein on that feeling lest she be disappointed, again.
“I think I can increase production by twenty percent,” said the woman on the other end of the com. “At least that is what I am seeing in my lab.”
“That’s wonderful,” said Lucille, sitting up in her chair, looking at the process coming over her flat comp. Yes, she thought, looking at the mechanics of the process. We can do it with very little in the way of upgrades. And twenty percent more negative matter across the board. That will be good news for the Emperor and the Fleet.
An hour later the good news was tempered with bad, as the tale of another piece of sabotage flew across the station. And a tenth of the negative matter production on the station was taken offline.
*
SECTOR IV SPACE, NOVEMBER 8TH, 1000.
“The one’s hanging back,” called out the Tactical Officer, looking back at his captain with the question of what to do in his eyes.
I can see that, thought Lt. Commander Jane Wyman, watching the two vessels on the holo. The supercruiser was hanging back, just within the edge of the quantum teleporter’s range. While the scout ship was coming in close.
“If we hit the supercruiser, we’re going to have to put all of our power into the transmission,” said the Tactical Officer, telling the Captain what she already knew.
“I don’t see any other choice,” said the Captain of the Q-ship Inixius. “Everything you’ve got into the engineering spaces of the far ship. Then we’ll switch over to the scout with the other loads.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the man in charge of the ship’s main weapon, what would not even be considered a weapon on most vessels of war.
“We’re receiving a message from the scout ship, ma’am,” said the Com Officer. “The normal blather about us not being harmed if we surrender.”
“Send them the normal blather back, and stop acceleration.” We might have an opportunity here, if we play it right. She knew that the destruction of the supercruiser in itself would be a fair exchange for her converted tramp freighter. Not that she wanted that kind of exchange. She wanted to get herself and her crew back to home space. But she was out here to take risks.
“Quantum teleporter is charged and ready, ma’am,” said the Tactical Officer.
“You may transmit when ready,” said the Captain, her hands grasping the arms of her command chair tightly.
The lights dimmed on the bridge, and just over three seconds later there was a bright flash on the warship sitting five hundred thousand kilometers away. That flash was followed by an explosion reaching from the bowels of the ship, ejecting matter into space. A second later the entire ship went up in a massive explosion as the antimatter aboard lost containment. The ball of plasma spread out for tens of thousands of kilometers in seconds, until there was nothing left of the enemy supercruiser.
“Teleporter charging,” shouted the nervous Tactical Officer. “The scout seems to be confused.”
The Inixius shook from a laser hit, then again from a particle beam strike. “Their confusion didn’t seem to last all that long,” said the Navigator.
“Start the transmission,” she ordered the Tactical Officer, knowing that her own ship only had seconds to live. The electromagnetic field was strengthening, though that was taking power from the teleporter. And there was no way she was going to survive a battle with even a scout that she outmassed by a factor of ten.
“Transmission started,” yelled the Tactical Officer, and the lights dimmed again. “We only got a partial transmission,” said the officer, looking back with panicked eyes as the ship shook again from multiple hits.
The enemy ship showed on the viewer with flashes along her hull, then a great explosion that took half of her bow. The ship started to tumble, but the stern grabbers started to slow her right away.
“This is engineering,” called out a voice over the com. “We’ve taken critical damage, ma’am. One of the antimatter cylinders is moments away from a breach.”
“Can you eject it?”
“No, ma’am,” yelled the engineer. “The hatch was welded shut from their lasers.”
“Captain Frazier,” she called over the com to the Marine Force Commander. “Your men are to assault that enemy ship, immediately. The naval crew will be on your tail, so strike fast and get us a foothold.”
“Yes, ma’am,” called back the eager Marine. “We go in fifteen seconds.”
I hope that’s enough time. “Sound ship wide evacuation. All personnel are to make sure they are armed and abandon ship. Repeat, ship wide evacuation. Prepare to board that enemy vessel.”
As she finished that call icons blossomed on the holo, two hundred battle suited Marines in space and accelerating toward the enemy vessel. As she watched a few of the icons flashed red and dropped off the holo. Soon more icons appeared as the naval personnel began to bail out.
Jane made her way off the bridge, grabbing a rifle from the armorer as she passed his station. “What the hell am I doing?” she said as she ran down the corridor to the outer airlock. This is like something out of the days of sail. But I really don’t have any other choice, do I? They’re about to blow this ship apart, and we only have one hope of survival.
She checked her armor tell tales before stepping into the lock with eleven other spacers. The inner hatched closed and the outer opened without waiting for the air to be bled out. They all blew out into space, and Jane oriented herself to the enemy ship and engaged her grabbers.
Another laser slashed from the enemy ship, then a pair of particle beams, then a pair of missiles. She wondered if she had anyone le
ft on board, knowing there was nothing she could do about it if there were. She looked back while continuing to boost toward the enemy, seeing the particle beams eating holes in the hull of her command. Then the missiles hit, and the ship shuddered as large pieces blew out into space. At that moment the antimatter containment failed, and Inixius converted to plasma. A dozen crew icons blinked and fell from her HUD, too close to the ship to escape.
Her HUD showed her the way to a hangar whose hatch was opened. There were already a dozen spacers with weapons holding the hangar, and more were landing and streaming in every moment.
“How are we doing, Frazier?” she called into her com.
“We really caught them off guard, ma’am,” replied the Marine. “Only a handful of them were in any kind of battle armor. We’re sweeping them before us.”
“Keep it up,” said Jane as she watched her spacers join in the fight. She ran through the hatch in the ship, taken aback by the size of the opening and the corridor beyond. She gripped her rifle and ran on. They had to take this ship or they were all dead, and now was not the time for the commander to hang back.
Jane found herself in one firefight, the spacers with her taking the engineering section. The Ca’cadasans fought hard, but were at a disadvantage with their size. Jane was able to hide her armored body in areas that the huge aliens couldn’t use. She used that cover well while gunning down a Caca engineer. There were only seventy-two living Cacas in the ship when they boarded, some of the rest killed by the blast that blew off the nose, many more when the inertial compensators failed in parts of the vessel while it was being accelerated by the blast. All the healthy Ca’cadasans fought to the death, but a half dozen injured specimens were captured and stabilized.
In the end they took the ship, the first operating vessel ever captured by the New Terran Empire Fleet. She still had one hundred and sixty-three Marines, and all but twelve of her three hundred and seven spacers. It took several days to make sure everything worked, and learn how to run it. Then it was a slow speed run back to base with the prize in hand.
*
CONUNDRUM SURFACE, NOVEMBER 10TH, 1000.
Preacher had been the hunted many times in his long career in the Imperial Army. He preferred being the hunter, but had learned than while conducting special ops he didn’t always get the choice. Now he and his whole command were the hunted, and he was trying to figure out how to turn that around.
If that’s even possible, he thought, hunkering down in a small hollow in the forest. He was learning the tricks of this forest. Conundrum was considered a class five risk planet, slightly less dangerous than old Earth. Which didn’t mean it was without risks. Just not as many dangers as Sestius, a class two risk planet.
If only I had a working com system, was his next thought. He dismissed that thought as soon as it came. One of the reasons his battalions were so effective was because they had no electronic signature, and were therefore very hard to track. But without face to face contact there was no command and control. And no reinforcements, or way out, he thought, second guessing the wisdom in bringing them to this continent in the first place.
Something moved, a crackling of a branch, a rustling of leaves. A flurry of bird analogues took off from some trees about fifty meters away, the sign of another predator moving. And from the sounds they were making in the foliage these were not natural predators.
Maybe I can sting them before I move off, thought the Preacher, who had no illusions about getting his unit back together in the near future, or even getting himself out of the mess he was in. He also had no illusions as to his own worth, and knew he was one of the best men he had. And had the best chance of hurting this Caca patrol and getting away with it.
He slid into position with the stealthy moves of a great cat. The pores on his uniform were closed, trapping his body heat and not giving a thermal signature, not even through the lenses of his head covering. It made it hotter than a bitch on the body, and would eventually cause a buildup that could make him pass out. He didn’t intend for his maneuver to take that long.
Sliding into a covered position that overlooked a game trail he made ready. Soon the first of the Cacas appeared, the huge shape in battle armor trying to move quietly and failing. They may have been the top predators of their ecosystem at one time, but they sure aren’t stealthy now, if they ever were.
Preacher waited for a moment to see if others would come, and was rewarded by the appearance of a second one following ten meters behind the first. Preacher sighted in on his scope, aiming for the unprotected face of the creature, wondering why they were patrolling without that armor in place. Because they’re bored and frustrated, and have not seen contact with the enemy in quite a while, if ever. He placed the crosshairs on the ugly face that was a symbol of the threat to his people, wondering for just a moment if the soldier had a family, someone he thought about, who would miss him when he were dead. Well, too damned bad, thought Preacher, visualizing the dead and soon to be dead among his own species, taken out by this threat.
The rifle bucked hard into his shoulder he fired, giving out a muffled sound through the noise suppressor. The fifteen millimeter round struck right where the crosshairs had been centered, and the space between the Cacas eyes splattered with blood and gore. The creature fell to the ground in the limp posture of death.
Preacher didn’t see the fall. He knew as soon as he had squeezed his trigger that the creature was dead, the hard ceramic bullet piercing its skull. He moved the rifle just a bit and lined up the next Caca, standing still in shock. Another squeeze and that one was dead, while two more appeared on the path behind him. One pulled down his visor, protecting his face, while the other ran forward and knelt beside the second kill, his face still unprotected.
The Brigadier was tempted to take out one more, but he hadn’t gotten to his age by making stupid mistakes. Doctrine called for making one shot and moving, shoot and scoot. He had taken two because the second target took no extra appreciable time to engage. Now it was time to move.
Preacher jumped up, keeping the brush between himself and the Cacas, who were now running in from all sides. He ran as fast as his feet would carry him, making no more noise than a passing wind. He could hear the roaring speech of the Cacas behind him, at first getting closer, then fading as he continued to run flat out. That should slow that bunch down a bit, he thought, angling down a hill to a stream. He put his rifle down and dove into the stream, opening the pores of his skin suit and pulling his head cover off, letting the liquid drink his heat, then gulping as much water as he could hold to replenish the sweat he had lost.
Moments later he was again on the move, once again the hunter, determined to sting this enemy as many times as possible.
*
SECTOR IV SPACE, NOVEMBER 20TH, 1000.
Mei Lei looked at the holo with a frown on her face. She had six ships in her current force, the two experimental battle cruisers, a light cruiser and three destroyers. Behind her was a force of over thirty ships, all in hyper VII, all moving at a higher velocity than her vessels. Her ships could do a bit better than the old Jean de Arc, up to point nine one five c. The enemy could still do point nine five, and would eventually catch them. The fact was, they wouldn’t have to catch them, as they could launch missiles well before reaching her force, and those weapons could handle more velocity induced radiation than a manned vessel.
“What do you want us to do, Admiral?” she asked Grand High Admiral Lenkowski, looking at his face in the holo screen of the wormhole com. “I really didn’t expect this many of them to come after me. We could just continue on and lead them away from the task force.”
“We have to deal with what we have,” said Lenkowski. “I will not order you to sacrifice your ships. If we have a fight on our hands we’ll just have to fight.”
“Yes, sir,” agreed Mei, looking back at the holo showing the enemy, then the tactical plot. “We’ll start taking fire about ten minutes before they come within range of t
he task force.”
“Unleash hell on them, Commodore,” said Lenkowski. “Give them everything you’ve got.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the Commodore, looking over at her Force Tactical Officer. “Open fire, all hyper capable missiles.”
The Tactical Officer acknowledged and started working his board, sending the commands to the Jean de Arc and the other ships in the force. The light cruiser and destroyers launched their limited complement of missiles, which started their deceleration toward the enemy at five thousand gravities. In about two minutes one hundred missiles were in space. The Tactical officer waited for five minutes, allowing the missiles from the smaller ships to kill some velocity and fall back toward the enemy.
Then the battle cruisers started to fire, or it should be said that they signaled the firing platforms at the end of their wormholes to do so. The wormholes aboard ship had rotated to mate up with the stern tubes, and now they literally unleashed hell. Each tube fired a missile a second, each ship one hundred and twenty missiles a minute. They moved through the thousand kilometer long acceleration tubes and exited the wormholes at over fifty thousand kilometers per second. As they left the ships their own grabbers cut in with five thousand gravities acceleration. In six minutes the two ships had fired fourteen hundred and forty missiles, all staggering their acceleration until they joined as one mass. With that the missile tubes went silent, for the moment, all the missiles at the acceleration tubes expended. It would take ten minutes to move new magazines into place. The wormholes at the other end rotated away from the acceleration tubes and mated with another construct.
“The enemy is firing,” called out the Tactical Officer, and red icons appeared on the tactical holo as eight Ca’cadasan battleships, twelve supercruisers and ten scouts opened fire. They could put a lot of missiles in space, really an overwhelming amount.
Exodus - Empires at War 04 - The Long Fall (Exodus Series #4) Page 15
