“I’m just painting with a wide brush at the moment, my friend. The display is needed for the next step, then we’ll get into the net to fine tune things.”
“That’s just my point. I’m reasonably certain that everyone else’s eyes have rarely left the displays. They’re seeing details while you’re seeing the whole picture. Might it be a technique Chandrajuski and M’Coda would benefit from?”
“Hmm. It’s not the way we trained to manage a battle like this.”
“You’re completely focused, Ray. What more could a commander ask for? Let’s leave the displays out of it for now. You’re stuck in that tank, and I want everyone in a room that’s completely devoid of displays for this meeting. We’ll see what develops. We can always adjourn to the displays later.”
“Well . . . okay, but I’m certain we’ll end up back at the operations center.”
“They will, but you’re not needed there. By then, it will just be a matter of grinding out work assignments. They can do that. In fact, I suspect they’ll all stay here for a while, and I’m making arrangements. Chandrajuski is not going to give up three more hours before working on ship dispositions. With all of you here, it’s putting all our eggs in one basket, so to speak, but look at the synergy we could develop.”
“There aren’t enough displays and net portals, and there aren’t enough tight beam transmitters in operations.”
“The Chief is working on it. It’s a serious limitation, but we can use the displays and net portals on the bridge in addition to the ones in the operations center. This ship is not going into action, so the bridge won’t need them for fighting.”
While they talked, two chairs were brought in and partitions went up around a fairly large area. Gamordians took up a lot of space. Seeton disappeared, and Trexler reviewed the strategic situation in his head. It seemed fairly straight forward to him, but he was concerned about the Rebel reinforcements. He really wanted to force them in, but he wanted to find a way to do it on his own terms, not theirs.
Chandrajuski came into the partitioned-off area. M’Coda was right behind him, and the moment he stopped, his upper hands went to work on his whiskers. Sam Taylor settled into a chair with a grim expression on his face. Seeton sat beside him.
“Is Steve Brinson coming?” Trexler asked Seeton.
“No. We might need some detailed information from the ops center. He’s our eyes.”
Chandrajuski wasted no time. “What’s this all about, Ray?”
“Let’s see if I can summarize for you. We have 160 squadrons, and they have 500 or so. Am I right?”
“The numbers have stabilized, and you’re very close.”
“The first problem is to identify which ships are carrying Chessori, right?”
“Correct.”
“It’s also fair to say that any Chessori we identify will not be paired with regular squadrons. They can’t function together.”
“Until proven otherwise, that is the basis of our planning.”
“We have 84 Terran-manned squadrons of which 21 are fast. We have 80 purely Empire squadrons, of which 27 are fast. That gives us a total of 48 fast squadrons.”
“Those are the numbers Ray. We’ve been living with them for hours.”
“Okay. Stick with the numbers. We’re just after the big picture here. How are the Rebels organized?”
“Groups of four squadrons. In a few cases, larger groups. I believe the large groups will attempt to push through our defenses.”
“You’ve been out of touch for three hours.” He looked to Seeton. “Harry, would you please check with Steve to see if the wings are still forming?”
“I just came from there. They are.”
Trexler focused back on Chandrajuski. “We call the groupings of four squadrons a ‘unit.’ The larger groups are called ‘wings.’ It appears that all the Rebels are forming into wings. Our battle will be fought against 40 wings. For us in command, we’re not fighting 500 Rebel squadrons, we’re fighting 40 wings.”
M’Coda’s upper hands went still, then started a frantic preening. Chandrajuski just stared at him, but Trexler could see his thoughts were deep and elsewhere.
A smile found its way to Sam Taylor’s face as he considered the implications. “I think our jobs just got a lot easier,” he stated softly.
“How certain are you of these wing configurations?” Chandrajuski demanded.
Trexler looked to Seeton, who answered for him. “Pretty certain, Admiral. Steve Brinson has a very nice display of trajectories if you’d like to go see them. It’s pretty complex, and it’s not easy to decipher yet, but it soon will be.”
M’Coda’s upper hands were still in motion. “Two quick probes by Terran fast squadrons to expose all the Chessori wings, then we can assign targets. It will become an issue of attrition.”
“For the Terrans, yes. For the Empire ships, no,” Trexler said. He nodded to Seeton who stood up to face Chandrajuski’s looming figure.
“I’ve known for a long time that a great battle would be fought here, sir. Some will criticize the path I chose, but none here in this room will today. I’ve gambled everything I have on this battle, as it was foretold I must.”
Chandrajuski’s triangular head lowered on his long neck to within inches of Seeton. “Everything?”
“Everything, my friend. They’re waiting a short jump away. Actually, we’ve already called for some of them.”
“How many, Harry?”
“673.”
Chandrajuski stayed in Seeton’s face for a time, then with all his elegance, he backed away, lowered his back legs, and then lowered his head. It was his method of bowing. “You chose well, Harry. We are in your debt.”
“I told you some time ago that I would stand by my oath to the Queen. That has been my guide.”
“Your example will guide all of us, today and for a long time to come.” He went to Trexler’s bedside and looked down on him. “You promised me that if I came, I would leave here looking down on the battle from a perspective of superiority. You have delivered on that promise, Ray. Thank you.”
His head swung around to take all of them in. “Should we go fight a great battle now?”
Trexler spoke up. “We might want to consider a few of the nuts and bolts first. Our goal is not yet clearly stated, and we have a number of options to choose from to achieve that goal.”
“The goal is quite clear, Ray.”
“It was, but it can be more now. We set out to take Aldebaran Sector from the Rebels. I would restate that goal. We want to defeat them. They’ll have reserves, sir. We want them, too.”
Chandrajuski backed away, deep in thought. “A challenge, but I accept. We will have to position ourselves in such a way that we draw them in. You’ve considered this, I take it?”
“I have, but I don’t have a good solution. Harry already called for 200 of his ships, leaving the rest waiting. If we brought all of them now, we might scare the Rebels into a full retreat, and we don’t want to do that. With the 200 ships, I think the Rebels will believe we’ve called in our reserves, and the numbers are still in their favor. You’ll have to position yourself in such a way that they’ll reinforce where you want them to.”
Chandrajuski looked to M’Coda. “Do you have a suggestion?”
“That will take sitting in front of a display, sir. In concept, I like the suggestion. Perhaps we can hit one area hard, leaving their forces strong elsewhere. The weak area is a likely area for them to reinforce. We’ll work it out.”
Trexler looked to Sam Taylor. “Have you started transferring crews?”
“Not yet. We were just finishing up assignments when I left to come here.”
Trexler turned back to Chandrajuski. “We can do as you suggest, use our 21 fast squadrons to bump them, see if the Chessori are there, or we can just make every one of our squadrons a Terran squadron. From a management standpoint, it would greatly simplify things if every ship was equal. Any squadron could be sent to any target.”
“Are you suggesting we use the 63 slow squadrons? That will take too long.”
“No, sir. Another option exists, but it has calculated risks. Waverly has hundreds of men who can function as gunners. If we abandon the Terran fast fighters, we’d pick up another 250 Terran pilots and a bunch of gunners. We could staff every cruiser we have with Terrans, and there would be enough left over to staff almost 200 of Seeton’s cruisers. Then it wouldn’t matter if they encounter Chessori or not. The whole crew could be in the net. If the Chessori are encountered, the Empire crews drop out. If the Chessori are not encountered, the Terrans drop out. You might even want to beef up the Terran gunners on our cruisers rather than sending them to Harry’s ships. I don’t think any of Harry’s ships are going to encounter Chessori. I think the reinforcements will all be Rebels.”
Chandrajuski looked to M’Coda, who said, “We need to take the time to model it. I like the idea of beefing up the Terran gunners. Right now, each gunner controls an entire battery, far too many guns for one person. What do you think, Admiral Taylor?”
“I’d like to beef up the gunners, and my fighter pilots are up to flying cruisers. In fact, they’d rather be flying cruisers. They don’t like risking their lives for nothing, and with this new strategy of just going after Rebel cruisers, they’re essentially useless. And transportation is not a problem. Each fighter pilot has a ship. He can take his fighter to the planet, load up the Raiders who will stay with him, and go to the cruiser he’s going to fly. The fighter can just stay in the landing bay there. We’re talking, what, maybe a day or two for all of them to complete the transfer? Waverly’s guys are going to be tired, but with a few hours of rest they’ll be ready to go.”
Trexler called over the partition. “Jim, does that work for you?”
“You can have them, but go through Major Wilkes. When he’s done with the city, he’ll have some clean-up to do in other areas. I don’t want any Chessori left alive on the planet.”
Chandrajuski slid the partition aside and looked down on the person in the bed. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Colonel Waverly, sir. You must be Admiral Chandrajuski. A pleasure to meet you.”
Chandrajuski’s mouth opened wide to display his many, many sharp teeth. “The pleasure is mine, Colonel. You’ve done us all a great service. We’ll talk later.”
The discussion became technical, with general assignments, timing and dispositions, and capabilities of certain groups of ships. Trexler stayed silent. Chandrajuski and M’Coda were truly in their element now, and they had become aggressive rather than defensive. They left the room in a group, still in heated discussion, headed for the operations center. It was time now for the displays.
Waverly’s eyes were still closed when he said, “I knew you flyboys had it soft, but running a battle from your bed?”
“Well, you freed a world with a telephone.”
* * * * *
Trexler knew he wasn’t needed at the moment. In fact, he probably wouldn’t be needed any more at all. He went to sleep. When he next awoke, they were taking him out of the tank.
“Sorry, sir,” the nurse said. “Someone else needs this more than you do.”
They encased his foot in a plastic container filled with goo and settled him next to Waverly who was asleep. Trexler, too, went back to sleep. When he next awoke, he was laying on a table with his foot stuck in a box. Waverly was awake beside him, lifted up on one elbow and staring at him. Stevens was beside Waverly with a small bandage on his leg. Walters was beside Stevens, his whole upper body and head encased in bandages. He, too, was looking at Trexler.
“What’s up, guys?”
“Not us, that’s for sure,” Waverly answered. “They worked on your foot last night. I think that table you’re on is portable, so you can get back to work whenever you want.”
“I have to stay on this table? How am I going to work from this thing?”
“I don’t know, sir, but it’s the best they could do. There’s a lot of equipment under the bed that’s tied to the box on your foot.”
“Jeez, it’s just a few toes. I need out of here.”
“I don’t know, Ray. That doctor is one tough lady, and she’s not brooking argument from anyone. I think she’s been up all night.”
“Are they still bringing in wounded?”
“No. I get the feeling we’re nowhere near the planet. If my guys are done, the hospitals on the surface will be back in operation to take care of them.”
“Hmm. Who’s guys are going to get treated first? We need to address this issue before your next fight. Should we try to get you back there?”
“All in good time. I’m not making any waves yet. Your guys have their hands full, and I have some good officers down there to take care of things. I’m not needed at the moment.”
“Nor am I, it seems.”
Waverly smiled. “My guess is that you gave them enough to do the rest.”
“If you think I’m going to let a few toes keep me from my job, think again. They’ve been going for hours, maybe days, without rest. They need relief.”
The doctor showed up, deep lines of strain showing around her eyes. “How do you feel, Admiral?”
“Fine. I need to get out of here.”
“Maybe in a few days. Maybe.”
“What if I just pull my foot out of this thing and leave?”
“You can’t. You’re well secured in there. If we take you out, you’ll lose the pain relief. Trust me, you don’t want to do that.”
“Can I at least get a communicator? I need to check on things.”
“There’s one right there beside your bed. Didn’t you know?” She lifted a communicator from a nearby table and handed it to him.
“How do I reach the operations center?” he asked.
“Just speak into it and ask. It’s connected to the AI.”
He spoke into the unit, and an ensign picked up on the other end. “Admiral Taylor,” Trexler requested.
“He’s busy, sir.”
“I don’t doubt that he is. Would you let him know that Admiral Trexler would like to speak to him when he’s free?”
“Yes, sir. Standby.”
A very tired sounding Sam Taylor came on the line. “Hi, Ray.”
“How’s it going up there?”
“Actually, I’m going off duty for a few hours. Seeton and Brinson are filling in for me. If you’re up to it, I’ll stop by and bring you up to date.”
“I’m up to it.”
When Taylor arrived, he looked truly exhausted. “How long have you been at this, Sam?”
“Days. I caught a few winks on the way over from my ship. I’m taking a break now before the fighting gets started, then Seeton can take a break. We’re still positioning, but it’s going well. It’s strange though, all this waiting to get into position. I don’t think a shot has been fired yet.”
“Is the plan working out?”
“Beautifully, and if they break up their wings, all the tags are in place. We’ve marked every single cruiser. All our fast ships are manned with Terrans, and we’re almost done manning the rest of the capital ships with our guys. We’re holding the fast ships back for the moment. They can get into position quickly enough that we don’t want to give away our strategy. The slower ships will be as positioned as they can be by tomorrow. The attack will happen all at once, all over the system.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“It is. We give little away until it’s too late for them to do anything about it. I feel real good.”
Waverly spoke up. “How’s it going on the surface, sir?”
Taylor turned to him. “I really can’t say, but they’ve released some 250 gunners to our fast ships, and they’ll give us another 120 tonight for the cruisers you brought from Orion III.”
“Then they’re just about done. Is there any way I can get in touch with them?”
“Not at the moment. We can’t use normal communications or we’ll give
away our position for sure, and the tight beams are in continuous use. Once the fighting starts, a lot of our communications will be in the clear and you can call then, but the tight beams will be very busy. I think we’ll take a hard look at our communications requirements after this is all over.”
“Do you need me up there?” Trexler asked.
“It’s pretty crowded with Chandrajuski and M’Coda in the operations center. I’ve been working from the bridge, but it’s crowded there, too. We might be able to squeeze you in. When you’re ready, we’ll take all the help we can get.”
“Okay, go take your break, Sam.”
Sam looked around the vast room and spied an empty bed. He went to it and appeared to be out cold before his head hit the sheets. Lieutenant Stevens got up from his bed and covered Sam with a blanket.
Trexler thought for a moment, then said one word: “Ship.”
A light on his communicator began flashing, and the unit started an angry vibrating. He picked it up and said, “Trexler.”
“General transmission is not permitted in sick bay, Admiral. How may I be of service?”
“Is there a hook-up to the net in here?”
“No.”
“Are there hook-ups elsewhere that are not in use?”
“Seven on the bridge, two in the captain’s quarters, three in Engineering, one in the landing bay, one in each gun battery, one in the officers mess . . .”
“Okay, stop. What if the captain is sick? How does he communicate from sick bay?”
“There are provisions for six input stations in sick bay.”
“How do I get them activated?”
“Only the captain or executive officer can authorize activation.”
“Connect me with the captain, please.”
A moment later, “Bridge.”
“This is Admiral Trexler. I’d like to speak with the captain.”
“Standby.”
“Captain Klipgg. What can I do for you, Admiral?”
“Are you busy?”
“Not at all. I’ve been ordered to stay out of things for the time being.”
Knights of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book Two) Page 43
