Exodus: Empires at War: Book 06 - The Day of Battle

by Doug Dandridge

  Sean put a hand on her arm and led her through the crowd of reporters, who had parted like a sea before the Imperial Secret Service agents who moved them.

  Jennifer found herself on a comfortable old couch in a sitting room, sobbing, not really sure how she had gotten there. Sean sat next to her, holding her in his arms. She drew in a breath and looked into the face of the man she loved.

  “There’s the rub, your Majesty,” she said, sorry immediately for using that term as she saw her lover wince. “I will never be acceptable to the people. Nor will any heir I produce.”

  “You let me worry about that,” said the Emperor, holding her tight. “There are ways around the genetics. We can have the child engineered to have all the Imperial genes.”

  “But will it be mine?” asked the young women, hanging her head. She knew there was no answer to that question, and she was grateful that Sean didn’t try to provide one they both would know for a lie.

  * * *

  Sean looked at the ship in the viewer with growing excitement as the shuttle made its approach. He could have walked aboard through one of the ship’s wormhole gates, the one that was configured as a passenger portal while the vessel was not prepared for combat. But it’s such a good view coming in from the outside, he thought, marveling at the vessel that would be his flagship for the coming campaigns.

  “She looks different,” said the Emperor, zooming the viewer in on the ship.

  “The Bureau of Ships decided to make a few changes on the craft,” said Captain Javier Montoya, the commander of the Dreadnought. “It added some mass to her, and now she tops out at twenty-seven million tons.”

  “Making her the largest warship in human space, including those of our enemy,” said Sean after a moment’s thought. Dreadnought seems like such an awkward term, though. If I remember my history correctly, Dreadnoughts came before the big battleships of the twentieth century Earth fleets. But then again, super duper battleship sounds kind of awkward as well. So what in the hell do we call the next bigger class of ships. That would not be a problem for quite some time, but there were sure to be bigger, more powerful ships coming out of the yards of all the major powers before this war was over. If we make it to that point.

  Barely visible on the viewer behind the massive ship were four more just like her, all that would be available for this operation. There would be more coming out of the yards, but the completion date for the next five was six months in the future. He put that thought out of his mind and concentrated on the toys he had to play with now.

  “When will the skins be deployed?” he asked the Captain as he looked at the ship to his front. The shuttle started to loop up over the Augustine I, the first of her name. Sean made note of the six laser rings, two more than carried by a regular battleship, each with thirty percent more power, giving her almost twice the light amp firepower of a fifteen million ton warship. He knew that there were six matter antimatter reactors onboard, each only seventy percent of the capacity of a battleship’s or superbattleship’s. Still, those six gave her two point one times the energy generation of a battleship, or one point one times the power profile per weight. And losing one reactor was not as big a deal as it was in the smaller ships, with their two units.

  “We hope to begin deployment by the end of the week,” said the Captain, a frown on his face.

  “I know, Captain,” said the Monarch, putting an arm around the man’s shoulder. “But think of the expression on the faces of the Cacas when they see what we have planned.”

  The Captain smiled at that, shaking his head. Sean knew it sounded like a mad scheme. But if it worked, it would go down as a stroke of genius. If not? Then Sean might find himself a figurehead or the rest of a very short war, if he survived.

  The hangar deck was also oversized. Maybe not in the same category as those on carriers. Still, the deck stretched ahead over two hundred and fifty meters, with a width of one hundred. And it was only one of eight aboard the ship, which also doubled as a strike carrier with forty-eight attack fighters aboard. The shuttle came through the cold plasma field and into the hangar that was completely empty, all of its vessels moved to others to make space for the receiving ceremony.

  As soon as the shuttle made it through the entrance the thick armored doors of the hangar started to close. Most times the doors would stay open while the ship was in port. The cold plasma shield was normally enough for safety. But not to the babysitters of my Imperial ass, thought Sean, watching the huge doors close behind the shuttle. The shuttle touched down with a light thump, just as the hangar doors closed with a vibration through the deck plates.

  Sean walked down the short ramp from the shuttle to deck, following the head of his Marine security detail, who was checking out everything on the deck of the hangar. My God, thought Sean, looking at the man. He can’t seriously think I’m in any danger here, on my own flagship. The Captain of the ship was the only other man ahead of him, and that worthy raised a hand into the air and started the show on the road.

  The ship’s band, which had just formed up on the deck, started into the Imperial March, the tune that had been played to welcome Emperors for over eight hundred years. The Marine honor guard, an entire company in dress reds, snapped to attention and rendered their rifle salute, while the several hundred officers and senior CPOs in formation delivered a hand salute. Sean stepped off of the ramp and returned the salute.

  Captain Montoya introduced his XO and senior officers, then moved on to the contingent that was Sean’s personal staff.

  “Admiral Kelso,” said Sean, reaching out a hand to grasp that of the Rear Admiral that was his Flag Captain. “Good to see you again.”

  “Your Majesty,” said the smiling man, his freckled face showing a wealth of laugh lines that indicated his character. “Allow me to introduce Captain Mary Innocent, your Intelligence Officer.”

  The woman smiled and offered her own hand, while Sean attempted to keep from laughing at the name of his chief military spy. “How did someone named Innocent end up in intelligence?” he finally asked.

  “That is a long story, your Majesty,” said the woman.

  “Perhaps you can regale his Majesty with it at the staff gathering tonight,” said Admiral Kelso.

  There were some more introductions, then Sean was escorted to the Flag Bridge, preceded and followed by Marine and Secret Service security. It was much as Sean remembered, a huge room fifty meters in length by forty wide. There were over a hundred workstations in the chamber, from the pit around the central holo to the two tiers that rose above the floor around the perimeter of the room. Only this time those stations were mostly occupied, while ratings and junior officers walked from place to place carrying messages, or supervising those under their charge.

  “This is your station, your Majesty,” said Kelso, gesturing to the raised dais that looked over the lower floor and the enormous central holo. “But when we are in combat we have something else rigged up for you.”

  Sean bounded up the steps to the station and threw himself into the comfortable chair that could reconfigure into an acceleration couch on command. Holo projectors were recessed into the floor around the chair. A couple of steps down from the chair on either side were two other stations, manned by a commander and lt. commander respectively, the Fleet Tactical Officer and Chief Com Officer.

  Sean allowed himself to sit in the chair for ten minutes, looking around his new command post. He called up the holos around the chair, moving them through the circuit of what they could show him. The holos cycled from a view of the command bridge, to the bridges of other ships, to views outside the Augustine I. He stopped cycling through the smaller views and looked at the large central holo tank, twenty meters by ten, in the exact center of the bridge. It showed the entire solar system in a tactical view, and from his perspective seemed to cover an area twice as large as it was. With a thought through his link he expanded the view to the entire Supersystem, the bright dots of the eight stars in three dimension
al array around the central black hole. The names of the objects appeared beneath them. Tens of thousands of smaller dots sat in the holo, planets, moons, stations, even the ships of the Fleet. As soon as Sean concentrated on any one dot it expanded in his view, until he was looking at a world, or a battleship.

  “Beautiful,” he said to the Rear Admiral. He yawned in mid-sentence, and smiled with embarrassment at the officer. “I think I will retire to my quarters for a bit of rest.”

  His quarters were slightly different from the way he remembered them. The main entrance, through the guard room, was now occupied by Marines behind a desk with a transparent barrier overhead. On the other side of the entryway was a door that led to the sleeping quarters of the duty squad. He noted that the walls were much thicker here than the rest of the central capsule rooms, something he hadn’t noticed before. They’re trying to protect me from threats internal and external, was his thought. He shrugged his shoulders and continued on into his living quarters, a large room with conversation area, dining area, even a pool table that could convert to other gaming surfaces.

  Killer, the Himalayan kitten that Duchess Lei had gifted him with, looked up from the couch where he was laying and came running. The cat was all long legs, in the way of growing kitten, and it was excited to see the man that had been imprinted onto its little mind. Sean bent and picked the kitten up, cradling it in his arms while it purred away. Almost feels like a cheat, he thought, looking into the blue eyes of the feline. I didn’t actually earn the thing’s loyalty by raising him. He dismissed that thought. He was here now, and the cat would be welcome company to help relieve his stress.

  “Is there anything I can do for your Majesty?” asked the onboard steward, John Jacobs, coming out of his quarters across from the small but well-appointed kitchen.

  “Maybe something to eat in a bit,” said Sean, stifling another yawn. “But first I would like a nap.”

  “Your bed is ready,” said the man, who Sean noticed moved with exceptional grace for someone middle aged.

  Of course. He’s enhanced. Leave it to my babysitters to think of everything. “I’ll just take this little bundle of destruction with me and go catch some zz’s,” he told the man, heading to the door that opened onto his sleeping quarters. Again the room he entered was well appointed, with another door leading into a bathroom, and one into a large walk in closet. Sean thought he might check them out later, but for now the large bed beckoned.

  After taking off boots and jacket the young man threw himself into the bed, the kitten bounding up to cuddle next to him. He fell asleep in moments to the deep purring of the feline laying against his side.

  * * *

  Samantha Ogden Lee stared at the man sitting in the chair before her like he was excrement left on the street. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to see you disappear, like your predecessors, thought the young woman. She was really too young to be Regent, which was a position normally filled by an elder counselor, sitting in for an Emperor who was not yet of age to make legal decisions. But she was only forty-two, much too young, though only twelve years older than the Monarch she was sitting in for.

  “I must warn you again, young lady,” said Archduke Percival Marconi, the newly appointed head of the Loyal Opposition, “that should the Emperor continue to make the kind of decisions he has made, we will press for a vote of no confidence.”

  “And what kind of decisions would you have liked him to make, your Grace?” asked the young woman, feeling the anger rising within her.

  “Well,” said the man, looking down his nose at someone he obviously felt was his inferior, despite her inclusion in the Imperial family. “He could try to actually win some victories with the Fleet we give him. It is a disgrace that we are losing territory to these, invaders, and that so many people have had to die.”

  You pompous asshole, thought Samantha, recalling that this man had no military experience, yet felt himself qualified to judge military decisions. “And how would you do things differently, your Grace.”

  “I would meet them in battle and defeat them,” said the man, the expression on his face showing that he thought such a question could only come from an idiot.

  “Yes, but how?” asked Samantha, biting off each word in anger. “How would you, a noted tactician and strategist, fight and win against an opponent that outnumbers and outclasses us, all the while trying to preserve the Fleet so that said enemy doesn’t drive a spear into the industrial heart of the Empire?”

  “I am not an idiot, young lady. And will not be treated as such.”

  No, your Grace. You are an idiot, but are so caught up in yourself and your birthright that you cannot see it. If I didn’t know better, I might think you are one of the shape shifters, in the guise of the Archduke. “So, what is your solution, your Grace?”

  “My solution is to put the best interests of the Empire and the Human Species ahead of the privilege of one man, and let those of us with more wisdom do what is right for our people.”

  And you amateurs would see us fight the decisive battle, then lose it all in a day. “I am afraid that his Majesty has no intention of stepping down as supreme commander. Nor will the military accept being run by a council of competing Lords.”

  “They will have no choice, if we vote no confidence in the Emperor.”

  “Why you pompous ass,” said Samantha, tiring of the man and his threats. “The military will not accept that vote. Neither the Imperial Army nor the Fleet have any confidence in you people, and will not stand for your meddling in military affairs. And I am sure the many employees of the Emporal branch of government will also let you know what they think of your idea.”

  “That would be treason,” said the Archduke, his eyes narrowing. “And traitors are subject to arrest and execution.”

  “Treason is decided upon by the winners,” said Samantha with a cold smile. “And do you really think the Lord’s Security Force can handle the military.”

  “This is a Parliamentary Monarchy, young lady,” said the man, jumping to his feet and glaring down at Samantha. “With emphasis on the Parliamentary. We make the laws.”

  “And we are at war, your Grace. And don’t have time for political tomfoolery like you and your cronies want to pursue. The only thing that matters at this time is winning this war, and preserving the race.”

  “This isn’t the last of this,” growled the Lord, turning and storming from the room.

  You could have handled that better, Samantha, thought the Regent, standing up and walking to the credenza to make herself a drink. But that’s probably the way Sean would have handled it as well, she thought, taking a sip of bourbon, then a larger gulp. And if he gets enough of the people behind him, it won’t matter if we have the military behind us. They can’t fight without the support of the civilian industry, and that’s controlled by the workers, when it comes down to it.

  Chapter Three

  SECTOR IV SPACE. AUGUST 10TH, 1001.

  “We’re picking up the Cacas,” said the Sensory Officer, looking back at the Commodore.

  “Right into the bag,” said the Tactical Officer, smiling.

  We can only hope, thought Commodore Mei Lei, looking at the holo that showed the icons of a number of enemy ships, in hyper VII and decelerating down to translation speed. The only other icons in hyper were those of the convoy that was the bait, traveling in hyper V and right on target.

  I wish we could stop with this sniping shit and just take them on, thought the former scout ship commander, who had only recently earned a squadron command. But that way led to defeat. And even sniping wasn’t always the safest thing to do against this enemy. Several groups had been badly mauled trying to take on what should have been surprised and outgunned Ca’cadasan task forces. And one had completely disappeared.

  “Shit,” she said quietly, watching as more icons appeared on the holo, until the force that appeared was over the threshold of what she was supposed to commit to. “Get me Captain von Rittersdorf,” she said
, looking over at her Com Officer.

  Almost instantly the face of Maurice von Rittersdorf appeared on the holo, the bridge of the hyper VII destroyer James Komorov behind him. “What do you want me to do?” asked the young Duke over the wormhole com.

  “What do you want to do?” asked Mei, not really sure what she wanted to do in this situation. Doctrine called for her to refrain from engagement. Doctrine called for any ships that could get away to do so. All of the escort ships, besides von Rittersdorf’s, were hyper VI vessels with terrific acceleration curves. They could easily leave the slower merchant ships behind and get away, building up enough velocity that they would be out of the sensor range of the enemy before they got through with the merchies. James Komorov was the only hyper VII ship in the escort, and the only reason she was there was her ability to communicate with the Commodore’s flagship through her own wormhole com.

  “I hate leaving the commercial vessels behind,” said the young man, who had earned his Duchy through his heroic actions in helping to rescue the Emperor, just like the Commodore.

  I know how you feel, she thought, shaking her head. The commercial vessels were actually auxiliary warships, fitted out with the best armaments and protective fields that could be provided, and crewed by Fleet personnel. The only things they didn’t have was military class armor, or the acceleration of a warship.

  Mei looked over the holo again, seeing what appeared to be the end of the enemy concentration, based on the time that had passed since the last had appeared. Her force was still outnumbered, and outgunned, if it came to a fair stand up fight. Which I have no intention of getting into.

  “OK,” she said, looking into the eyes of the young lion on the holo. “Keep them heading our way. Here’s what we’ll do.” And she outlined the strategy that she hoped would give her a victory.