“Nice dodge not outright implicating me. However I think you’ll find that convincing anyone over here that they’ll survive leaving this system alive, at least as anything other than a prisoner of war, a very hard sell,” said Manning.
“Then isn’t it fortunate we have rules and regulations in place that don’t require convincing trained officers, sworn to their duty, to obey the legal orders of their legal commander on the field of battle, Vice Commandant?” I sneered.
Manning’s face was stone as he stared back at me. “Please don’t make this harder than it is, Admiral Montagne,” replied Manning, “all I’m doing is trying to keep a lid on things and keep this fleet together until after the battle is over and we’re victorious.”
“A victory you claim no one ‘over there’ with you believes is possible is that it, ‘Admiral’ Manning?” I asked.
The former High Captain winced. “I make no apologies for doing what’s necessary to keep this fleet together,” he finally said.
“Mark my words, Manning. I’ve stood aside for the good of Sectors 23 and 24 once. Now the shoe's on the other foot and I expect the same. It’s time for your people to show if you acted out of principle or if you’re no more than greedy, power-hungry politicians in uniform,” I replied coldly.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” said Admiral Manning, his face hardening.
“How trite,” I sneered, “your people used a pack of lies and left a string of broken promises a lightyear wide to get my fleet down there and pulled the old switcheroo as soon as the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet showed up.”
“Your bitterness helps no one, Fleet Commandant,” Manning said with a bite to his voice, “these are entirely different situations and no one is trying to have themselves appointed commander of the fleet over your head before this battle.”
“Conveniently leaving out what happens after this battle, aye?” I inquired mildly.
“Your paranoia knows no bounds. How can you run a fleet acting like this?” Manning asked with seemingly genuine curiosity. “I can understand your ire with me but to be eaten up inside like this over mere matters of status, things that happened in the Droid Wars,” he shrugged helplessly, “how can you lead us if you’re so mired in the past?”
“You claim to know me and yet you’ve still got me all wrong, High Captain,” I chuckled, “I’m not mired in the past obsessing over what happened. Nor am I bitterly holding onto power by the tips of my fingers. I realized from the jump that my term in this office and command of this fleet was time-limited. So, quite the opposite of being bitter and obsessed, I actually admire the way you’re people have played the game.”
“This is not a game,” growled Manning.
“Exactly why all the bad PR, the way you allowed everything you didn’t like about the battle for Elysium and the liberation of 23 and 24, to fall on my shoulders while claiming the lion’s share of the accolades and adoration for the success, hurts the entire Spine so badly now. I’m here, legitimately citing the good of the people as the reason for the 23 and 24 warships to come back to the Sweet Saint Murphy and follow the very orders they swore to obey!” I roared back
“You can yell all you like but it’s not going to change anything. We can’t look to the past, we can only look to the future. And no one in this group that I’m trying so very hard to keep together cares about how badly you think we did you wrong,” yelled Manning.
“You know, from where I’m sitting it’s entirely possible none of this would be happening if it weren’t for you. It’s almost enough to make one think that you planned all this,” I said, throttling the urge to explode with fire and fury.
“I don’t follow you. Or, if I do, it just goes to show how unready you are to lead this fleet,” he said.
“Don’t you dare try to put this on me. Aren’t your oh-so-very-loyal mutineers doing so out of a belief their commanding officer is a person of low morals and incompetent? A 'Droid lover' and such who wins 'pyrrhic victories,' if he has any victories at all,” I snarled.
“Can you deny any of it?” Manning asked.
“My record of accomplishments speaks for itself,” I retorted.
“Not from where they’re sitting. All they see is a man who may have been quite effective at lower levels but who, once he reached the top most levels in his Sector and now in the entire Spineward Sectors, brings home victories so punishing even Core Worlds can’t always bear them—and that’s when he wins at all.”
“So that’s what this is. At its heart you think you could have done a better job than me,” I said, finally nodding with understanding.
Manning turned red. “No, that’s not what this is. What I think is irrelevant. I’ve followed orders like a good little boy and when orders didn’t cover it I moved to ensure this fleet stuck together by forming a task force of the disaffected officers. What I’ve done may or may not have been entirely according to regulation, but I’ve kept things together by hook or by crook! Can you say the same? Frankly, I resent being questioned like this. I resent the way you’ve just stood there letting the enemy hammer us, while soaking up losses we cannot by any conceivable measure absorb if we aim for victory, and all done in the name of some plan you claim to have cooked up. A plan, need I say, that your second in command—that’s me if you will finally recall—still has no idea what any of it is about,” he shouted.
“You may be one of my two Vice-Commandants at the highest administrative levels, but I’ve already designated my second and third in command should I fall out of communication with this fleet for any reason—and you’re not on that list,” I said. “As for our losses, a large number of the damaged ships are the very ones that refused to follow orders, exerting their independence and independent commands in the face of the enemy fighter attacks, with predictable results,” I said.
Manning leaned back and shrugged. “You can try to spin this however you want. The fact is we took a lot of losses throughout every contingent in the fleet. Including Battleships. So tell it however you like, tell nothing but the Demon’s own honest truth but it won’t matter. We’re down Battleships, including your flagship, Grand Admiral. Accept my goodwill or throw it back in my face, the ball is in your court, Sir. I’m done arguing with you,” he said wearily, “the enemy is finally coming out from behind that asteroid field and whether any of us like it or not, it’s really all up to you whether you can keep this fleet together and somehow win this battle.”
“Keep those ships in line and on formation with the rest of the First Fleet or they’ll be fired on. This is their last warning. I’ll speak with you after the battle,” I said.
Manning shook his head in disgust and cut the channel.
But he wasn’t as disgusted as I was. I couldn’t help it if the politicians in my Sector and both the politicians and Admirals, including the oh so virtuous Grand Admiral Manning, had poisoned the well. They’d reap what they sowed right alongside the rest of us.
Perhaps if it all fell apart they would realize the irony of their ways before they died right along with rest of us.
Which is why, in addition to continuing to do my beset to keep this fleet together, it was fortunate for all concerned that if my plans came together in just the right way, it wouldn’t matter what he or the Sectors 23 and 24 contingents did.
Victory was still within our grasp.
All we had to do now was lure the Glorious Fleet of Liberation and the Imperial Flotilla from behind that asteroid belt and into the outer star system.
Chapter 49: The Imperial Grind
Just like Jason Montagne, Grand Admiral Manning and the rest of the First Fleet, the Imperial Flotilla and their old Confederation allies had the same sensors and could see the way portions of the Spineward Sectors Fleet left the main formation as individuals and then started to form up into a fleet of their own.
“Either they’re finally ready to come out and meet us in a head to head battle, or our good friend Vice Admiral Montagne is having trouble keeping c
ontrol over his fleet,” Senator Cornwallis said with amusement.
“Unless they’re pulling a double blind and trying to lure us into a false sense of security,” said the Mighty Punisher’s Captain. He hesitated, “as unlikely as that may be.”
“A good point,” agreed Cornwallis.
“Well even if it is some kind of ruse, the way they just continue to sit there like an animal waiting for slaughter, it can’t be doing anything to inspire confidence among the ranks,” said his Chief of Staff.
“Even the most brilliant of tacticians can be brought low, and all his plans destroyed if he hasn’t the trust of his men,” said Senator Cornwallis.
The other men nodded.
“What’s the status of the Glorious Fleet?” he asked.
“The Glorious Fleet of Liberation continues to advance as ordered. Although some of the individual contingents have decided to…rearrange their place in the order of battle under their own initiative,” the grey bearded Commodore said diplomatically.
“And here I thought I relied upon you for your straight talk, no-nonsense, and refusal to cater to the whims of your superiors,” the Senator said.
“No, I cater to the whims of my superior officers, otherwise I’d still be a Senior Lieutenant or Lieutenant Commandeer. I just refuse to play the kiss up is all,” the Commodore said wryly, “although I have to admit that I’m unconvinced any of that is why you keep me around.”
“Smart man,” Cornwallis said.
“New movements orders, Praetor?” the Flag Captain asked once the contingents of the Glorious Fleet had moved sufficiently far ahead and advanced through and out of the asteroid field.
“Eager to head out and meet the enemy up close and personal, Flag Captain?” asked the Senator.
“I’m an Imperial officer,” said the Captain of the Mighty Punisher, as if that explained everything.
For the Senator it did.
“Very well, signal the fleet. We advance,” said Senator Cornwallis.
While the Flag Captain eagerly turned to relay the Praetor’s orders the grey bearded commodore spoke.
“I realize that Montagne hasn’t shown us anything special ‘yet’,” he said stressing the last word, “but I’d like to once again advise caution. Even though his fleet appears to be in disarray we still have no idea what he’s capable of.”
“As the saying goes, doubt not the man you use and use not the man you doubt; if the Little Admiral has forgotten or never learned this lesson then he’s already lost. If on the other hand it’s a ruse…well, we have better ships, more ships and a superior strategist and tactician,” said the Senator.
“That doesn’t answer the concern, Praetor,” said his Chief of Staff respectfully.
“If you are referring to this new jump technology then, while we do not yet know its full capabilities, the truth is we do in fact have some idea. We know it can jump more than one starship, we know that they do not have to be touching for this jump, and we know that Montagne and his fleet have been seen jumping both in and out of a star system from well within the traditional hyper limit,” said Cornwallis.
“But why are we moving into the outer system, Sir? Why not let them come to us, Sir?” asked the Commodore.
Cornwallis frowned at him. “I have nine hundred warships at my beck and call, well over a thousand jump capable starships in total. Facing me are now fewer than two hundred fifty, counting losses closer to two hundred twenty. I outnumber the enemy four-to-one and I have a decisive advantage in weight and I have a decisive technological edge. How can I cower behind this asteroid belt when as far as I can tell I have every advantage?” the Senator asked rhetorically. “When overwhelming force is at your command in the key moment, you use it.”
“Montagne was observed running into the outer system to make his jump. He was observed jumping into the outer star system. We have no indication that he can jump into the middle or inner portions of a star system,” said the Commodore, “I understand why you feel honor compels you to leave the safety of the belt but is it really the smartest move here?”
“For all we know the enemy has only shown us what they want us to see and, given time, they can jump anywhere they like, including in the middle of our formation,” asked the Senator.
“Sir, I didn’t mean to sound like I wish to avoid combat. I’m only advising caution in dealing with a foe that has defeated Imperial forces in the past. That’s all,” the Commodore said retreating.
“The truth is this is a chance to defeat them once and for all. Maybe it’s all a ruse but I can’t simply sit here jumping at shadows; if we let fear dictate our actions then we really will have lost. Or considering the vast differences in our combat capabilities, at least we will have given up the advantage to the enemy Admiral,” the Senator said with a sigh.
“You’re the Fleet Commander,” said the Commodore taking a step back.
Cornwallis sighed again. “Truthfully you have a point. We could wait and let them come to us or leave this star system and try again. On the other, hand what if they can jump deep into a system? The whole notion defies common sense, but then so does their ability to jump in past the hyper limit in the first place,” explained the Senator.
“It’s a gamble,” agreed the Chief of Staff.
“I don’t gamble. I take calculated risks. War is a series of calculated risks, and no one is better than the Empire at riding a risk straight into victory,” said the Senator.
“To tell the truth, I’m glad you decided to attack. It's what I would have done,” said the Commodore.
Cornwallis arched a brow. “After all the protests I’m surprised,” he said finally.
The Commodore chopped a hand dismissively. “I’ve been an Executive Officer. A Chief of Staff isn’t that different. I know the drill,” said the Commodore.
“Well, regardless, the die is cast: it’s time to crush the locals and finish this now. We still have countless worlds in the Spineward Sectors to conquer and bring into the Empire,” said the Senator.
“I just can’t believe how spineless the Confederation’s being with their own people, effectively selling seven Sectors of their own star-nation to the Empire. It boggles the mind,” the Commodore veritably sneered.
“When a star nation has police actions instead of wars of conquest or defense, cries with outrage and horror at thousands of lives lost instead of millions, and shills with horror at its own value system instead of proudly spreading their beliefs to the rest of the galaxy, you can rest assured that star nation has rotted from the inside and is now in decline. Someone meaner, hungrier and more willing to shoulder the costs, like the Empire, will gladly take its place,” Cornwallis said dismissively.
“I think it more likely it was when the Confederation began to invest in the medical sciences instead of the war sciences that its fate was sealed,” demurred the Commodore.
“No, its fate was sealed when it sold seven Sectors to the Empire,” Cornwallis said flatly.
“But their decadence knows no bounds, Sir. Healthcare for all, 109 genders, politicians directly elected by the people at every level of government...it smacks of the hysterical,” admitted the Commodore.
“Truth be told, I find our people’s stance against the Confederation medical system hard to fathom. Life rates have done nothing but expand since the Confederation led the charge into biological research. It’s an area where they clearly outstrip our own Empire—at least in terms of that which is widely available,” Cornwallis admitted, “as for the rest of it. Show me a gender that can fight better than the male one and not only will I sign them up by their millions and send them out to fight, I’ll apply for Confederation style genetic re-laything. All I care about is victory. Wear a tutu suit, rouge and bright pink lipstick and, if you’re built for murder, I’ll employ you and make it the new uniform of the day. Results are what matter, people, nothing more and nothing less.”
On that note, the conversation fell silent.
Not nearly
as silently, the engines of the Imperial warships flared to life and, with military precision, the Flotilla left the gas giant behind.
Over the next several hours the Imperial Command Carrier and her smaller, older, sister carriers welcomed home their broods of surviving Strike Fighters.
While the Confederation contingents of the Grand Fleet of Liberation proceeded to maneuver in front of the Spineward Sector forces, the Imperial Flotilla rearmed, refueled and rested their space fighters for the next big and hopefully final push.
Under the orders of the Praetor, while the Flotilla was refitting their fighters and catching up, the first advanced formation of the Glorious Fleet was given the order to attack and tie down Spineward Sectors Fleet.
Task Force 47.
Chapter 50: Carrying Out Orders
Vice-Commander Task Force 47
In advance of the rest of the fleet was Task Force 47. Consisting of twenty nine Cruisers and fifty eight Destroyers of the Glorious Fleet, some 87 warships in total, Task Force 47 was given the unenviable task of ‘pinning down’ the enemy. Or, in the longwinded words of the Task Force’s current commander, one Front Admiral Martin Barragan of old Mohaka, 'sticking to them like glue and shooting out their engines if they tried to run away from Praetor Cornwallis and the main body of the Glorious Fleet.'
Of course, right now the Spineward Sectors Fleet resembled a crippled, slow-moving turtle so that wasn’t really an issue…for now. But if the locals decided to abandon their cripples and speed things up, things could get hairy.
“This is insane. We’re nothing more than a speed bump, a sacrificial lamb, there to keep an eye on the Spineward Sectors' Fleet and die holding the line until the Empire finishes taking its sweet time coming out from behind that asteroid belt,” Commodore Fritters said bitterly.
Admiral's Nemesis Part II Page 51
