by Ryan Krauter
Elco didn't know how to respond to that, so he simply waited for Privac to continue.
"Supposedly this came from Senator Dennix himself," Privac was saying, and the look on Elco's face must have said it all. "It's not all bad, Captain," the admiral said in a consoling manner.
"We'll see," Elco grumbled.
"Short version: you're being given a milk run for your first mission back on front-line status. You'll go with the battleship Majestic and cruiser Cobalt, both from the Ninth Fleet and recently returning from extensive yard work just like you. You're going to do a 'show the flag' to an out-of-the-way system that the Primans have bypassed. The planet's named Lemuria, and it was colonized by a breakaway Drisk contingent a few hundred years ago. It's a single star system, not aligned with anyone else. Their claim to fame is high end computing systems, boards and components built out of exotic elements found on the planet that can actually reconfigure themselves on the fly while in use. It's as close to artificial intelligence as the law allows, and they're damn good at it."
"And the Primans never wanted that tech for themselves?" Elco asked.
"You'd think they would, but we also have to assume their intel was pretty sparse when they arrived on the scene; they probably didn't know or couldn't afford to target them in the opening days of the invasion. Anyway," Privac continued as he absent-mindedly played with a small data card with his fingers, "it looks like the Primans are starting to shore up their flanks now that they've broken through the Talaran Collection. Your tasking is mainly a diplomatic one; go there and say 'hi', and try to impress upon them the fact that the Primans will come calling sooner or later."
"And maybe try to convince them to come to our side, help with the war effort, that sort of thing?" Elco finished the Admiral's thought.
"I doubt you'll have much luck, Sirian, but it's worth a try. The Lemurians are fiercely independent, and have turned down offers of diplomatic relations from us and the Talarans several times. If they're on the Priman target list, though, they might reconsider."
Elco hated that he needed to ask the next question, but he did it anyway. "And could we actually do anything for them if they asked us?"
Fleet Admiral Privac's silence spoke volumes. "It would be hard to offer much," he admitted. "Certainly not much militarily. Maybe we could offer some lift in the form of transports if they wanted to start an evacuation, but even that would take some doing. I wouldn't go around town making promises, but you're not there to sign a treaty; just let them know Confed is checking in with them."
"How long are we supposed to stay there?"
"The order was to run some exercises in the area; give it a couple weeks before packing it in."
"A couple weeks?" Elco couldn't manage to contain the outburst. "Why would we waste the ships for that long? I could understand a few days, but we shouldn't be tying up valuable resources for weeks on end!"
"I feel your pain, Captain," Privac admitted, "but it was a directive to the navy from the Senator's office, so we don't have much room to bargain on this." Privac couldn't admit to Elco that he felt the exact same way; that it was a shame and downright idiotic to keep three valuable hulls out of the fight, but he wasn't in charge of the Confederation. "For what it's worth, Admiral Bak wants to talk to you about the assignment as well. He'll be coming over in a few hours."
Elco nodded in understanding. Admiral Nodam Bak, under house arrest for his part in leaking information that the Primans used in the first days of their invasion, was the person Fleet Admiral Privac had secretly tasked with running the more covert ops in his fleet. Admiral Bak would take any blame for a failed operation and he was a patriot, dedicated to nothing more than the safety of the Confederation. If Fleet Admiral Privac was sending Admiral Bak over, then there must be more to the story and the Fleet Admiral didn't want to have to admit knowledge of anything else that might happen.
"I'll be ready to greet him," Elco replied.
Admiral Bak arrived two hours later and made his way to the briefing room attached to C3 below the bridge. Elco was waiting for him with Loren at his side.
"Captain, Commander," Admiral Bak said, shaking each of their hands in lieu of a salute and then taking a seat at one of the tables. He took a sip of water from the glass in front of him and then got right to it.
"Gentlemen, I don't have too much time, so I'll get going right away." He took a breath and then continued. "Senator Dennix sending you on this tour of the backwater worlds of this part of the galaxy is a sham. We're not sure why, but he's ordered a small number of ships out of the line of fire. Coincidentally, these ships happen to have the best combat records against the Primans."
Loren and Captain Elco both raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing, so Bak continued. "Some would say that he's trying to get the most weary crews a breather. Others would say he's trying to sideline our best units. It's up to you to decide which theory you subscribe to."
Loren almost choked on the sip of water he'd been taking. Was the Admiral really talking about the idea of the Senator and his Governing Committee having ulterior motives?
Admiral Bak chuckled at Loren. "I almost made you spit that water back out, didn't I?" he asked. "I'll have to try harder next time. Look, here's the situation in a nutshell. The Governing Committee has been making some truly irrational decisions. We know the Senator has recently exchanged several of his inner circle of staffers. And now he, as head of the Governing Committee, which makes him the de facto ruler of the Confederation, is marginalizing our best units. He's quietly rewriting rules and laws, gathering power to his office. Does that seem like an alarming trend?"
"Are you advocating something, Admiral?" Loren dared to ask.
"Not at all, Commander," Bak replied. "But I do ask you to keep your eyes and ears open. There are a lot of dots out here to connect, but sooner or later they'll all form a picture. I'm just not sure what that picture will look like or if it will be bad for the Confederation. This trip to Lemuria could be a fool's errand, or it could open our eyes to something new. Something's going on back on Delos, and we need to figure out what it is." He paused for effect, than added one more bombshell to the mix. "Were you aware that a Confederation planet seceded two days ago?"
The look on their faces said they weren't.
"It was a relatively insignificant planet; I don't even remember the name. But they made a formal statement as they announced their departure on the floor of the Senate. They claimed inordinate taxes, lack of anything Confed had promised since the war began, an attempted government takeover of several key industries, and ever-restrictive rules on the trade they could have with other parties. Now, the Confederation constitution makes it easy enough for a planet to secede; it puts the burden on Confed to make planets want to be a part of it. And now, at least one planet has voted to leave. This all goes to the questionable decisions coming out of Delos these days."
Elco gave a heavy sigh and stared out the large windows at the rear of the briefing room. "This is just what we need," he said softly. "Confed falls apart-"
"Or experiences a civil war," Bak added.
"Thank you for that picture, Admiral," Elco concluded. "We can't defeat the Primans if we break apart on our own."
"Precisely," Bak agreed. "I need to you do your best with the Lemurians, gentlemen. We're going to need all the friends we can get; we've already alienated the Talarans and can't afford to lose any more potential allies."
As if rampaging aliens with a god-complex weren't enough, Loren thought. I should have been a hovercar mechanic.
Representative Ravine stood on the bridge of the warship Scythe, hands clasped behind her back as she observed the captain giving orders to her small flotilla. She had wasted no time and had left the very next morning for the first planet on the Commander's list of targets. While the ship's captain was in charge of the assault, she was in charge of the overall operation, and was within her rights to give him orders on how to proceed. Being short on actual combat experience
, however, she had taken a backseat to the captain and let him set up the order of battle.
It had greased the wheels and ingratiated herself to the captain when she had admitted she was short on field experience and would be happy to observe and learn from him, taking any advice and pointers he had to offer. She had seen members of her own family be unable to swallow their pride and accept that there was something they didn't know how to do; she found people were much more giving of their advice and expertise when she offered herself as an eager student. There was no shame in not being adept at a skill at first; it was only a problem if one didn't take steps to rectify that problem.
That brought her here, to the captain's side as his division of a dozen heavy cruisers approached the planet Carline. They were one of the dozens of independent systems that peppered the border area between the Confeds, Talarans, and former Enkarran Empire. Their lonesome status had spared them the Primans attention early on, but now they were just loose ends that needed to be tied up. While they didn't present a significant threat, they were well positioned to attack the flanks and supply lines of the progressing Priman navy.
"We're in position, Representative," Captain Vol began as he turned his chair to face her. "Five cruisers near the northern pole, five along the southern, and two of us sitting back as theater reserve. Ready to broadcast when you are."
"Thank you, Captain," Ravine replied graciously. This captain had been a model of efficiency and effort during the trip, and if he did well today she would have to include him on her growing list of people she would bring with her one day when her status improved. Ambition was something anyone could have; being able to make those ambitions happen was what separated an underling from a leader. Perhaps one day when she was Commander, Captain Vol would lead her fleets for her if he continued to do well.
Ravine took a few steps to a bridge console along the starboard side of the bridge and tapped a key, activating the audio pickup which would broadcast her transmission.
"People of the planet Carline," she started, voice strong and commanding. "This is the Priman warship Scythe. We are here to discuss the terms of your surrender to our authority. Respond within one minute or we will assume you are hostile and react accordingly."
Captain Vol showed a wolfish grin as he looked at the displays at the front of the bridge. It showed the planet below them, which only sported a dozen or so major cities. His ten cruisers in low orbit were high enough that they could cover all the cities on the planet with their guns. Anything unexpected would be dealt with by his ship and her escort.
"Incoming transmission, Captain," stated the communications officer behind the captain.
If Ravine didn't know better, she'd have thought Captain Vol looked disappointed that they were receiving a reply. He looked at Ravine and nodded, her cue to speak in his stead.
"This is Representative Ravine; I'm listening."
A video feed appeared on the display at Ravine's station. "This is Governor Dorcot," the being said from what looked to be a private office of some sort. Ravine recognized him as a Qualin, one of the founding member species of the Confederation. They were among the many species whose evolution the Primans had nudged all those ages ago, more reptilian than mammal in origin but with tough skin and warm blood instead of scales, thanks to her ancestors. Would the species in this part of the galaxy just admit they'd been done a good turn by the Primans and accept their rule?
"You appear to be in a position of hostile intent," the Governor continued. "We are unaligned and neutral."
"We realize your status, Governor," Ravine said smoothly, "but the time has come to formalize your relationship with us. We present two options: surrender and integrate within our structure, or be attacked until you are no longer a threat, in which case we will still integrate what remains of your infrastructure into our forces."
"You'll find the people of this planet are independent and stubborn," the Qualin replied darkly. "You might want to reconsider."
"Yes, or no?" Ravine asked, growing tired with the verbal sparring.
"No." The Governor cut the connection.
"It appears your people will get some action today, Captain Vol," Ravine purred.
No sooner had she said it than the combat officer asked for Captain Vol's attention. "Captain," she began, "I count almost three dozen ships heading for us; some rising from the surface and others launching from the second moon of Carline.
Vol just nodded distractedly as he studied the telemetry on his display. He looked at Ravine and nodded to the board, indicating she was welcome to observe.
Ravine walked over and gave the data a once-over. There were about a dozen ships lifting from the surface and an even two dozen accelerating at max power from the moon, both groups set to converge right in the middle of Captain Vol's groups of ships.
"Anything to worry about, Captain?" she asked.
"While you must always give an enemy credit and not take victory for granted, this battle is lopsided." He looked at her curious expression and continued. "They outnumber us three to one, but their ships are almost exclusively civilian vessels fitted with upgraded technology." He pointed to a random ship in the group heading up from the planet's surface. "You see that ship? It's a merchant transport. Scans show four relatively powerful laser batteries and a shield generator." He started manipulating the display with his hands, grabbing and swiping parts of the ship. "You can see, though, that our computers can scan the inner workings of the ship very effectively. Those four lasers are all fed by one massive power run, as are the shields. Their engines appear to be stock, which means there's almost no way they could feed the engines, shields, and guns at the same time. They can probably fire two at a time at best, and only until their shields start to drain and require more reactor power. They have no redundant systems or internal armor belt. In short, they look menacing, but one or two solid blows and they're dead in space."
"So we stay grouped together where our shields can overlap for support and concentrate fire on one ship at a time?" Ravine guessed.
"Exactly," Vol responded, the satisfied look of a proud teacher on his face. "Our units are combat tested and disciplined. Observe." He turned to his communications officer. "Order the north group to attack the ships from the surface. Take them down before they break atmosphere if they can. Then order the southern group to form a line astern formation and head for the group coming from the moon. Have them run down the flank of the enemy formation and concentrate all fire on one ship at a time. The enemy will lose two or three on the first pass alone, and I'll bet you a week's rations that the enemy's fire control is poorly coordinated."
"You seem confident," Ravine observed as she settled into her customary position next to the captain's chair.
"I can be confident, as long as I don't get complacent," Vol replied.
They both watched the displays as the battle unfolded. The Priman ships, teardrop shaped and smooth with the occasional bump or blister where weapons were located and sporting almost a mirrored finish, expertly formed up by group. The northern group aligned themselves in a nose-to-tail line perpendicular to the ships rising to meet them from Carline's surface, presenting their broadside guns and therefore greatest number of weapons batteries toward the oncoming enemy. It was a classic naval maneuver called 'crossing the T'. The inbound ships were pointing their noses at the Priman vessels, which restricted the number of guns they could bear on the enemy. The Primans, on the other hand, could bring many forward and aft weapons, as well as all the broadside batteries, to fire on the Carline defenders.
The southern group had already accelerated towards the moon, line astern as ordered. Their drives burned brightly as they accelerated as fast as they could, forming up to make a run down the port flank of the oncoming vessels.
The results were predictable. The ships from the surface were decimated and one by one fell out of formation in flames, falling back to the planet's surface while shedding parts and escape pods. Only two managed to
make it into orbit, and they only scored a handful of hits on the Priman cruisers before they became silently expanding balls of oxygen, drive plasma, and hot gases. Captain Vol ordered the northern five ships to join the southern force as they dueled with the two dozen enemy ships that had come from the moon.
"Communications," Captain Vol snapped, "find me the source of the Governor's transmission."
The tech only spent a few seconds tweaking the data from his terminal before announcing he'd found it. A blinking light appeared on the surface of the overhead-view map to mark the position.
"Excellent," said Vol. He turned his head to Representative Ravine. "Would you care to do the honors?"
Ravine tried to keep her composure at the suggestion as she gave a regal nod to the captain. All that power and destruction at her command? It was exhilarating. "Weapons," she began, proud of herself for maintaining a steady voice, "bombard that position. Take it at least fifty feet below street level and then scan for underground structures we may have missed."
The weapons tech complied and Ravine saw bright streaks of laser fire ripping from the front of her ship to the surface. The video feed was soon filled with blossoming explosions at ground level, and soon so much dirt and debris was kicked up that the video feed was useless. The weapons tech shifted to a composite image combining thermal, LIDAR, and triangulation-based imaging to provide an almost real-life image for the displays. It showed the impacts, but not the debris that obscured the naked eye. The building that had once occupied that location was no more, and after only a minute or so bombardment ceased.
"People of Carline," Ravine said into the audio pickups again. "Your message was received and you have seen our response. We'll call you shortly to resume our talks after we finish off your patchwork navy."
She was happy with her effort; confident but not gloating. She looked at Captain Vol, seated in his chair and exuding a commanding presence. "You're free to move however you like, Captain," she offered.
