Exodus - Empires at War 04 - The Long Fall (Exodus Series #4)

by Doug Dandridge

  “I wish you would return to the Home System, your Majesty,” said the Admiral. “There is no reason for you to continue here, not when you have business at home.”

  “After this battle I will go back. Don’t take too many chances yourself. The large enemy force will be here in four days.”

  Com was still coming through the wormhole, then relayed by subspace radio. Some of the force that had hit Cimmeria was on its way back to Conundrum, and a force from that would probably head back here. And they just didn’t know what might be coming from up the Persius Arm. Not until the wormholes had been delivered to the Republic, and they had established a stationary picket to let the Empire know what was coming.

  “Enemy ships will reach translation point in one minute.”

  “Get ready,” said the Admiral. “I want all of those warships taken out as soon as they come out of hyper.”

  The warships were acquired as soon as they came out of hyper, fat and sassy, with no reason to suspect a trap. Their screens were down to the level needed for travel at point oh one c, the speed they were translating down from so they would stop at the station. Their missile batteries were not ready, and neither were their lasers or particle beams. They came to a knife fight with their blades sheathed, and over a hundred capital ships unleashed every light amp and particle weapon they could bring to bear moments after the ships translated.

  This was a battle where they could see the damage moments after it was done. Terawatts of laser power ate into hulls as kilograms of antimatter exploded on metal armor. The five capital ships, tough as they were, withered and died under the fire in less than a minute. Then scout escorts died, and then any ship that looked like a tanker or a troop transport, which left twenty-two ships that had the appearance of freighters or liners.

  The Marines attacked these ships, leaving their assault shuttles in close proximity and flying to them in their combat suits after the warships breached their hulls with laser fire. Six of the ships self-destructed with the Marines onboard. Four more were taken with no survivors. While on the others.

  “We have prisoners, Admiral,” called out the Marine force commander. “Spacers, technicians, and females.”

  “Females,” said Sean with glee. “Something we haven’t seen.”

  “And a lot of tech we can send back to R and D,” said the Admiral with a smile. “Now will you go back to the Home System, your Majesty?”

  “I will,” said Sean, looking at the tactical plot of the system. The orbital docks, the factories, the asteroid mines, even the newly raised antimatter production facilities on the moons of the gas giants, all had been shattered. This was no longer a productive enemy base system. “Good work, Admiral. I want you to bring your fleet back with me. I will not take any further risks here. And I want you to ready yourself for another mission. We will do this in another system. Because this is not enough pay back for what these bastards have done to us.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  All subjects have the right to life and liberty. Imperial, System and Planetary Governments shall not infringe upon these rights, except under due process of law. Systems and Planets may codify criminal guidelines and punishments under Imperial oversight, and guided by Imperial laws and limits. Article One, Imperial Bill of Freedoms and Responsibilities.

  CAPITULUM JEWEL, JANUARY 20TH, 1001.

  “Well, that went well,” said the Emperor, sitting at the conference table in a large room aboard the Central Docks. He was looking over the brief of the mission and liked what he saw. They had destroyed a total of seventeen of the enemy’s battleships, which were really more of superbattleships, as well as fifty-four smaller warships, and almost a hundred logistics ships, tankers and freighters, and troop transports. They had also taken out all of the enemy’s antimatter production facilities, based on the moons of gas giants where they could use hydrogen in fusion plants to power the process. Add to that docks and mines, and they had really hurt the enemy.

  And we didn’t lose a ship, he thought, shaking his head. Several were damaged, a couple severely. But all had made it home through the gate.

  The second raid had almost gone as well, though the surprise had not been as complete and they had lost some ships.

  “They’re sure to keep more ships back in their base systems,” said Grand High Admiral McCollum. “It will be much harder to pull the same trick.”

  “If they have to keep vessels back from the front, then we have achieved our purpose,” said Admiral Thomas Thompson, the man who had led both missions. “Every ship back is one they can’t throw at our systems.”

  They’re all our systems, thought Sean, feeling the anger rise in him. “The wormholes are too powerful a weapon,” he said after he had calmed himself a bit. “We must find ways to keep using them. To keeping the enemy off balance.”

  “We are working on it, your Majesty,” said McCollum. “I have R and D looking into new uses. And our tactical experts into variations of what we can already do. I’m sure we can come up with something that will take them by surprise.”

  “What about the null inertia ships?” asked Sean, pulling up a schematic of the next weapon system he was hoping to deploy.

  “We’ve had some setbacks there, your Majesty,” said Vice Admiral Chuntao Chan, a woman who had never commanded a ship, yet was one of the most valuable officers of the Fleet. As head of Research and Development she had a hand in almost every tech advance over the last twenty years. “There have been some instabilities when shifting from inertialess back to normal flight profile.”

  “How bad?”

  “We’ve lost over forty test platforms in the last month,” said the scientist with a grimace. “That’s over forty test pilots.”

  Sean felt his own heart sink at those numbers. It would have been so much easier to use robotic craft. But this technology had implications for making ships almost invulnerable during part of their flight profile. And no one was about to trust that kind of tech to an AI.

  “The first of the hyper VII carriers will be ready in two months,” said McCollum.

  “And while that is useful,” said Sean, looking over at his CNO, “without the null inertia tech they are not the initiative shifting weapons we need them to be.” He looked back over to Chan. “I am sorry, Admiral. But we need those ships. I know it is a heavy sacrifice, but we need them. If you are having trouble getting volunteers…”

  “No, your Majesty,” said the woman. “We are having no trouble getting volunteers. Young men and women line up by the hundreds to get on those ships. They too realize how important they are, and the rewards we offer are very tempting.”

  “What is the problem, Chuntao?” asked McCollum. “Everyone I’ve talked to says the ships break light barrier just fine, and come back down as well.”

  “It’s the inertia feedback,” said the scientist, holding out her hands. “It comes in too fast when the negative matter screen is dropped. And then the ship converts to particles. And anything that is within a hundred thousand kilometers of the ship is hit by the blast wave from a teraton explosion.”

  “Sound like a hell of a weapon,” said Thompson, looking at a holo that showed one of those explosions.

  “With absolutely no accuracy,” said Chan, shaking her head. “When the ship is in null inertia they are effectively unable to interact with the Universe around them. They must rely on dead reckoning, which can’t take into account the movement of their target. They can’t see anything until they drop their negative matter field, and then it’s too late.”

  “So we have to relegate that weapon to the future,” said Sean. “Hopefully there will be one. Now what about those ten thousand gravity missiles we’ve been promised. Why aren’t they in the pipeline. I mean, the stealth attacks are already using them.”

  “The problem, your Majesty,” said Admiral Hiedoki, the officer in charge of Fleet Logistics, “is that those missiles have such high tolerances and need such pure alloys of supermetals, that we can only manufact
ure them in small lots. Just enough for our stealth attack. There is really no hope of producing enough for our battle line.”

  “We might be able to help you there, Admiral,” said Chan, looking down at her flat screen. “We’re studying how the Ca’cadasans put their grabbers together, and coming up with some ideas on how to make ours better. I think we can give you some eight thousand gravity weapons in a month or so.”

  “It’s great that we’re getting all this help from their captured equipment,” said Thompson. “So, what are they getting from ours?”

  “Definitely not the wormhole tech,” said Chan with a smile. “Even capturing one does them no good, since we can turn it off on the other end.”

  And as long as we hold the Donut we have that advantage, thought Sean.

  “We’ve had another problem with some of the missiles already in the pipeline,” said Hiedoki. “Seems that some of the grabber units were shorted their allotment of superplatinum.”

  “And who is responsible for that?”

  “We’re still investigating, your Majesty,” replied the Logistics Chief. “It seems the company that manufactured them was partially owned by Duke Streeter and some other Lords. And some of our ships have had malfunctions with their grabber units as well.”

  “Let me guess,” said Sean, putting his head in his hands. “From the same company. I guess it’s a good thing for the Duke that he disappeared.” He looked over at Hiedoki and pointed his finger. “I will appoint a special judiciary to this. Make sure they get all the evidence. This is treason in time of war, and I will see those responsible for this pay the ultimate price.”

  From the nodding heads Sean could tell that he had the military on his side in this, since he was obviously on their side. These were his people. Not the Lords or the other members of government. It was these people he needed to protect, so that they could protect the rest of the human species.

  The trip back to the Palace was not what it used to be. No more views of the twin worlds in their phases as seen from the shuttle. Instead it was a quick step and suddenly he was fifteen thousand kilometers away, stepping out into a room of the Hexagon. He really didn’t feel like taking the aircar, so he rode the underground shuttle car that was made to take the Chiefs of Staff to secret meetings at the palace, or the Emperor to them. It only took minutes in the specially designed car that accelerated and decelerated at a hundred gravities.

  The news that night showed scenes from the raids on Massadara and Florenza systems, along with the tally of enemy ships destroyed. Jennifer smiled as she sat next to him, especially when they showed the approval rating for the Emperor. It still wasn’t great, but was getting close to even.

  At least they can’t vote me out of office, he thought, then remembered what had happened with Constance the Great and the Emperor she had deposed.

  *

  SECTOR VII FRONTIER, JANUARY 25TH, 1001.

  “We’re picking something up in hyper VI,” said the Sensory Officer of the light cruiser HIMS Lancanshire.

  Captain Stella English looked up from her command chair from where she had been reading the latest dispatches from Sector VII HQ. This was a quiet sector, facing as it did the upper Galactic Rim. Stars were farther apart up here, on average forty light years, which meant that though the sector covered as much space as the others, there were only a third of the stars in that volume. But there were still populated worlds here, and they needed protection, even if the sector fronted no other major powers.

  And we’re the only ship on patrol for fifty light years in any direction. “How many are you picking up?”

  “A couple of hundred,” said the Sensory Officer. “I can’t tell yet at this range, there’s too much cross interference.”

  So is it a good thing or bad that we’re here? We were in the right place to pick them up. Now, do we get rolled over before we can get the information back to base.

  She looked over at the tactical plot. Her ship was moving along the border in hyper VI, on a north by Galactic west heading at point five c. The unknowns were coming in on a heading that would take them past the light cruiser. And there was no way Lancanshire was going to be able to get away.

  “Battle stations, all crew to battle stations,” she called out of the intercom, and the alert Klaxon sounded a moment later. Maybe we can hurt them, a little. Though the odds of that were low as well. Then it struck her. “Sensors. Did you say hyper VI?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m getting a clearing read now. Estimated two hundred and thirty-seven vessels, all in hyper VI. Resonances match military and civilian vessels from Kingdom of New Moscow.”

  “Everyone stay sharp,” ordered the Captain after a moment of relief. “This could be a trick. But no one fire until I give the command. Understood, Tactical.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said that officer, a look of relief on his face as well.

  “And if this is a trap, it’s a well laid one,” she mumbled to herself.

  “They’ve picked us up, ma’am. Their hyperresonances are changing, and I think they’re decelerating.”

  “Helm. Do as best you can to match velocities with them. I still intend to check them out before they’re allowed through.”

  “And what are you going to do if they’re crewed by Cacas, ma’am,” came the voice of the XO in CIC over the personal com.

  “I’m not really sure, Exec. But I’ve got to do something.”

  The waiting seemed to go on forever. That’s the problem with space. As fast as we go, it’s so damned big that we spend most of our time waiting. But time continued to move in its one direction.

  “We have visual, ma’am,” called out the Sensory Officer. The main viewer brought in the sight of the leading ships of the fleet heading their way, against the bright red backdrop of hyperspace. They looked much like Imperial battle cruisers, with a few aesthetic differences. And behind them were the still indistinct shapes of other ships.

  “We’re receiving a com,” said the Com Officer, looking back. “Open cast in standard Terranglo.”

  “Put it on,” said the Captain, knowing this would be a story she would want to hear.

  “This is Admiral Gregor Chomsky of the Czar’s Navy,” said the bear like man who appeared on the holo. “We are refugees from the Kingdom of New Moscow, seeking asylum in your Empire.”

  “Why did you come in through this route, sir?” asked the Captain, looking at a plot of their vector to this current space.

  “We were in danger of being pursued, Captain,” said the Admiral, his haggard eyes looking into hers. “There was no way we could outrun them, so we went up above the Galactic Disk and then down. It added a lot of time to our travels, but as you can see, we made it.”

  “We have a count, ma’am,” said the Sensory Officer on a private circuit. “Fifty-two capital ships, thirty-one cruisers, twenty-eight escorts, and one hundred and twenty-six commercial or logistics ships, thirty-four quite large.”

  “You are welcome to our space, Admiral,” said the Captain. “I hope you won’t take this wrong.”

  “But you want to inspect our ships before cutting us loose to head for a base,” said the Admiral. “I don’t blame you. Am I to assume that you are also at war with these invaders from our worst nightmares.”

  “You assume correctly,” said the Captain. “And yes, I would like to inspect your ships, as soon as we can match velocities with you.” Can’t take any chances that those ships are manned by Cacas, with a couple of human front people to fool us.

  “Understandable. My navigator estimates you can match velocities with us in six hours, if we adjust ours as well. You have hyper capable shuttles?”

  “Three of them, sir. Looking forward to meeting you in person.”

  Six hours later the shuttles were leaving the light cruiser, heading for three randomly picked vessels in the refugee fleet. And one shuttle was heading for the Lancanshire, bearing the Admiral to her ship. Captain English met the man in her conference room after the shu
ttle had docked, been searched, and he had been scanned. As she was showing him to his seat, images were coming in on her implants from the search teams. Images that showed crowded refuges along the corridors of the battleship, heavy cruiser and liner that had been selected. Predominantly women and children, all looking frightened and relieved at the same time.

  “Definitely looks like you’re legit, sir. How many of your people did you get out?”

  “Five hundred and eighty thousand civilians,” said the Admiral with a sigh. “And about two hundred and fifty thousand military personnel. As far as I know we’re the only survivors of the Kingdom of New Moscow.”

  “But, there were billions of people in that kingdom,” said the incredulous Exec, who was also attending the meeting.

  “Almost fifty billion humans,” said the Admiral. “And several billion subject aliens. But we didn’t see any of the nonhumans being put to death by the conquerors.

  “You saw that yourself, sir?” asked the Exec.

  “No, I did not. But my daughter did. And many of the other people we were able to rescue. My wife was one of those they executed, like a farm animal they were preparing for dinner. I wanted to stay and kill the bastards. But my Czar commanded that I get all I could to safety.”

  The man covered his face with his hands and started to cry. Stella felt embarrassed for the man, who had seen so much of his life destroyed. “They have hit us hard too,” she finally said as the sobs started to slow. “Your people will be welcome, as will your ships. We can use all the warships we can get. And your civilians will be welcome to asylum.”

  “And how are your people doing against the Ca’cadasans?”

  “We’re getting our asses whipped so far,” said English, looking over at her Exec, who nodded. “But we’re hurting them, too. Probably more than they expected. I’m sure high command will want to pick your brains about anything that might help us hurt them more.”

  When the shuttles came back they parted ways with the Admiral, who shuttled back to his own ship with one of her junior officers, who would lead them through Imperial space. She watched the Refugee fleet move on and disappear from her scanner. Lancanshire changed vectors and went back to her lonely patrol.