The admiral was imagining that the dining room would be a massive affair, with numerous tables. Instead, they were ushered into a small room with one long table, about thirty places set. Only flag officers and senior members of the government were present, and Beata found herself seated between the president and a high ranking admiral in the Nation's fleet, another Alpha.
“We are still not sure how we want to use your force, Admiral,” said Grand Fleet Admiral Jrasstra Klanarat in a haughty tone, setting his wine glass on the table while the Beta servants bustled around clearing the plates away.
Beata found herself staring at the servant, who looked like an Alpha sans the gills, standing about a half meter shorter than the dominant subspecies. She wondered if they had been created as a slave race by the original rulers of this star nation, the psychopathic clones of the people who had come here from Earth. From what she understood the subspecies were also the primary workers in Klavarta industry, from the sweeping of floors to the designing of new factories. So, not a slave species after all.
“How do you mean?” asked the admiral, coming back to the matter at hand and looking over at the other officer, trying to figure out where the man was coming from.
“Well, the Imperial forces have been a boon in support of our fleet at the front,” said the other admiral, placing his hands on the table. “But now, with you here, we might run into problems with the chain of command. I'm sure you can see that.”
What she could see was that this insecure male was afraid he might lose his position as the supreme commander of this front. Beata didn't want supreme command, as long as she had operational control of a fleet. This male seemed to be wedded to the position of supreme commander, and was not about to put up with any challenge.
“I'm thinking that we might want to keep you and your people back from the front, ready to respond to the actions of the Cacas. You have a powerful force, and bringing them in at the right time could cause extreme problems for the enemy.”
While you destroy the weakened Caca fleet, a weakness that was brought about by the actions of the Imperial Fleet on the other front, and we sit back and watch, thought Beata, frowning. She and her fleet hadn't come here to sit in the wings while someone else garnered all the glory. Of course she knew that combat was not all glory. In fact, most of the combat she had experienced had been bouts of terror interspersed with long periods of boredom. Blood, death, the guilt of sentencing people to death from her decisions. That was her experience with combat.
Still, she was good at what she did, and didn't want to find herself and her force sitting out the war on this front, while someone else of lesser capabilities wasted lives. Also, if the Cacas were so weak that the Klavarta fleet could defeat them easily, there was really no reason for her and her ships to be here. They could be back in Imperial space, supporting one of the other grand fleet admirals on their drive toward the Caca capital. Of course, the New Earth government had asked for her and her ships, so it didn't look like they were yet in a position to kick in the Caca defense and roll over them.
“Where would you want me to deploy, Admiral Klanarat?” Not for the first time she was wondering if the admiral was a relative of the president, and had gotten his position due to nepotism. She didn't understand the relationships among these people, and whether that name meant a familial relation, or just the designation of a certain genetic line.
“I'm thinking maybe here in the capital,” said the Alpha, glancing at her sideways. “I would like to take most of your combat power and distribute it among my battle groups. What remains would make a good reserve that could speed to whatever area had the greatest need through the wormhole gates.”
Beata felt a flash of anger as she listened to the self-important ass who was trying to take everything away from her that she had brought to this space. If he intended for her to use the wormhole gates to get to the trouble spots, that would mean he expected her to relinquish all of her wormholes. And he expected for Imperial citizens to fight and die under him while their own designated commander watched. Not something she was willing to put up with.
“My Emperor sent me here to fight the Cacas,” she said in a low voice, her eyes boring into those of the Klavarta. “His intent was that I could add weight to your next offensive so that it might forge into Caca space. Not that I wait here in the capital system and sit on my hands.”
“Now see here, Admiral Bednarczyk,” growled the other admiral, returning her glare. “I am in supreme command of this region, and you have been subordinated to me. So you will do as I say, or I will have you sent back to your Empire.”
“Admiral,” said the President, raising a warning finger. “Sean sent Admiral Bednarczyk out here to command the ships he gave her. If she goes back, so do her ships.”
“Can't we keep them?” asked the Klavarta admiral in a petulant voice.
“What. Steal them from our ally. I think we need all of the good will we can garner from those people. So no,” said the President, shrugging his shoulders. “Admiral Bednarczyk is in complete command of all the Imperial forces in our space. It is up to her to dispense her ships or not to your groups. And I will say here and now that I expect her to lead a force at the front, if that is her wish.”
“So she has a totally independent command in our space?” asked Admiral Klanarat, grimacing. “That kind of a split command could lead to disaster.”
“Me and my force are at your beck and call, Admiral,” said Beata, giving the Alpha a slight head bow. “Yours is the overall strategy. Give us a mission, and we will do it to the best of our ability, under my command.”
“And the support we are used to having?” asked Klanarat, eyes narrowing. “What about that?”
“We will give support to all of your battle groups with our wormhole equipped ships,” replied Beata, planting both hands on the table. “And half of the newly arriving wormholes will go to your fleet.”
Beata wasn't sure that she was completely on board with that decision, but it had been made above her pay-grade. She would still have the seventy-nine wormholes already assigned to her, with thirty more coming her way. The Klavarta had one hundred and ninety-three already in their inventory, with thirty more coming from the Empire, and four or five a week being produced locally. It wasn't in the same ballpark as the fleets of Lenkowski or Mgonda, who could call on many hundreds of wormholes each, plus the other hundreds involved in the wormhole transport network.
The Alpha admiral still looked like he didn't like it, but after what his president had said he didn't have much choice.
“What do you think about taking on the Cacas, Admiral Bednarczyk?” asked another of the alien officers, this one an admiral from the allied Slarna. “This will be your first time combating them, yes?”
“What?” gasped Admiral Klanarat, turning a stare toward the human female. “I thought the Emperor was sending us a battle tested commander. Not someone who has risen through the ranks through staff work.”
Beata felt her anger rising, and she was just about to fire an insult at the Alpha when Montgomery spoke.
“Why you little pipsqueak of a creature,” said Mara, her mostly hidden accent coming to the fore with her rage. “We've been fighting for our lives and the lives of billions against the murder Machines. If you've never heard of them, be glad. They would have kept you up at night shitting your britches in terror.”
“Why....” Klanarat looked like he was about to have a stroke. Obviously he was not used to being talked to in that manner. Especially not in front of his own leader.
“That's enough, Mara,” ordered Beata, chuckling inside that Montgomery had said what she had wanted to.
“That's insubordination,” yelled Admiral Klanarat, pointing a long finger as the scout force commander. “I want her relieved of command and sent back to your Empire in disgrace.”
“Not going to happen,” said Beata, getting to her feet and looking down at the Alpha, the only position from which that would have
been possible. “We are a team, and where she goes, so do I.”
Klanarat started to stand.
“Sit down, Admiral,” roared the president.
The Alpha admiral stared at his president in shock. Beata still didn't know the relationship between the admiral and the president, but the leader of the Nation of New Earth was obviously not about to play favorites with his senior officer.
Admiral Klanarat dropped back into his seat, his eyes still wide. If Beata had to guess, she would think the admiral was not used to being dressed down by his boss in public.
Too bad, she thought, trying to hold in a smile and failing.
“And I expect you to work closely with my grand fleet admiral, Admiral Bednarczyk,” said the president, pointing a finger her way.
Beata was sure that this leader would not hesitate to demand her recall to the Empire if she turned out to be too much of a gadfly. That would be the end of her career. She would be beached, on pension, and not allowed to join in the war that she had waited all her life for. That was something she couldn't let happen. She resolved to watch her tongue, not the easiest thing for her to do.
“Now,” said the president, looking around the table, “I would like to get back to the subject of this meeting, which was to make sure all of my officers were familiar with each other. Or at least all that are readily available in the capital.”
“We will have a meeting tomorrow by holo conference,” said Admiral Klanarat, the frown on his face now appearing to be a permanent fixture. “I expect everyone to attend, at eleven o'clock local time. Don't be late.” He said that last while glaring at Beata, like he was sure she would be late just to spite him.
“We will be there,” she said, sending a message through her implant to her com chief, making sure that officer knew about the meeting and would know the codes and relays for the conference.
“Now, I am tired,” said Admiral Klanarat, looking over at the president. “If you will excuse me, Mr. President?”
“Of course,” said the president, nodding.
When Admiral Klanarat was on his feet most of the officers on his staff got up to follow. As soon as the admiral and his staff had left the room the president let out a sigh.
“I'm sorry about that, Admiral. He may be an insufferable bore, but he is very good at his job. He had no problem getting along with your predecessor. But, then, she was of much lower rank than you are.” The president shook his head. “I wonder why Sean wanted to send someone of your rank. It makes everything much more difficult.”
“I promise that I will follow the orders of the admiral,” said Beata, crossing her legs as she sat back. As long as he doesn't order me to do something stupid that will doom my command, she thought.
The president gave her a sidelong glance, and Beata was sure that the Alpha knew exactly why Sean had sent someone of her rank out here. The Emperor was happy to support his ally, but was worried that the people he sent out here might be misused by the Klavarta. So yes, she would follow the orders of the other admiral, unless he ordered something that would put her fleet at undue risk while preserving his to her detriment.
We'll see, she thought as she picked up her refilled wine glass, nodding to the Beta servant. Admiral Klanarat fleeing the party had put a damper on the evening, but the drink was good, and the more she could get to know the man who was the power in this nation, the better.
The official meeting was over, but the night was not through, and Beata was determined to let strong drink take away her cares about the chain of command. After more hours of good food, good drink, the assembly began to break up. As Beata and Mara headed back to their shuttle, determined to spend the night on their ships so they could see to their planning in the morning, an Alpha stepped in their way.
“Ma'am. If I may have a moment of your time?” asked the female Alpha who had been assigned as her liaison to the Klavarta supreme commander.
“If you're here to tell me that I ruffled the feathers of your admiral, I already know that, Captain,” said Beata. “I'm not much for apologizing, so he'll just have to get over it on his own.”
“No ma'am. I would suggest no such thing. The admiral is pretty much universally unliked by the majority of the people serving under him. His competence is doubted across the board. Too many people think he rose to his current position due to his relationship to the president.”
“Should you be telling us this, Captain?” asked Mara, tall enough to look the Klavarta Alpha in the eye. “Wouldn't the admiral see this as disloyalty.”
“I am loyal to the Nation of New Earth, and am in this position because the President placed me here, with orders to see to it that you were made welcome. I interpret that to mean that I must cue you in on the politics of the situation.”
“I'm sure this situation is tearing you apart,” said Beata with a snort.
“Actually, it is. I was taught to be loyal to those placed above me. Now I find myself in a situation where I have multiple superiors, all demanding my loyalty. So I must make a choice based on my own code of honor. And do what is right for my people.”
“So, you will be my backdoor into the machinations of Grand Admiral Klanarat?” asked Beata, not sure that she liked that idea. Someone willing to betray a superior didn't have a code of honor as far as she was concerned.
“No, ma'am. I won't betray confidences. I won't give you information that the admiral wouldn't want you to know. But I will let you know why things are shaking out the way they are. I feel that my duty as your liaison is to keep feelings in check on both sides, so we can accomplish the mission we are all here for.”
“Sounds well-reasoned. I won't ask you to do anything that causes a crisis of conscience. However, I expect you, as my liaison officer, to be aboard my flagship in the morning. Eight sharp. Uh, that's...”
“Nine thirty-eight local time, ma'am,” said Mara.
Always on top of things, my friend. Where would I be without you?
“Good enough. Nine thirty-eight local time. I want your input on the commanders I will be working with. Strengths, weaknesses, best means to deploy them.”
“As long as I don't betray confidences,” said the Alpha once again, shaking her head. “But I guess everything you will be asking for is in their personnel files,” she continued, smiling. “I will be glad to help you formulate the best battle plan possible.”
If we even get a chance to fight, and that jackass of an admiral doesn't keep us waiting in the wings while he gets too many of his own people killed.
Chapter Two
Enemies make you stronger, allies make you weaker. Frank Herbert
“We will be moving across the frontier in three battle groups,” said Great Admiral Mrastaran Hlrata, using a laser pointer to indicate the area in question.
The region in question was two thousand lights years in width, over a thousand in height. The ends of the frontier actually extended past the linear dimensions of the Nation of New Earth. That star nation was not nearly the size of the New Terran Empire, fronting the other side of the Ca'cadasan Empire. Still, it was over eighteen hundred light years from the frontier to the capital world of that nation. A formidable distance that would take over a month at hyper VII to traverse.
Actually, twelve hundred of that eighteen hundred light years of depth had belonged to the Ca'cadasan Emperor prior to the series of offensives and counter-offensives that had rocked this border of the Empire. For several years the two powers had fought back and forth, but the general trend had been the loss of territory for the big sophonts.
Well, this time we take it back, thought the great admiral, growling low in his throat. He didn't expect to take it all back in an instant. The great admiral would be satisfied it they could penetrate five hundred light years into that expanse and consolidate it. Another offensive would push further in, and then another. If they could keep up the momentum before the humans and their genenged servants pushed back.
“I will be with the center force,
” said Mrastaran, the laser dot touching the system in the center of the frontier, just twelve light years back. He would have a full half of the ships in the offensive, though not that high a percentage of the ground troops. His mission would be to smash everything in his way. Some of the people on the planets ahead of him had been Ca'cadasan subjects, but were fully cooperating with the humans. Therefore, they would receive no mercy. Extermination was what they deserved.
The admiral gave a head motion of negation at that thought. He was an adherent of the old religion, something that brought him much discomfort from his more profane peers. The intelligent officer knew that most of the dogma of the religion was unscientific crap. Still, he had found comfort in it earlier in life, and was not about to abandon the church. He just ignored those portions of dogma which served no purpose. One part that did serve a purpose as far as he was concerned was the sanctity of living planets and the genetic lines they gave rise to. So no, the disloyal sophonts would be punished, but none would need fear for the species survival from units under his command. No matter what orders came from above.
“Great Admiral Tonnasar will lead the left wing,” he continued, looking over at the holo image of the high ranking admiral in question.
Mrastaran had been mildly surprised that the other male hadn't challenged him. He thought his own combat plan would have worked, but there was never a guarantee in one on one close fighting. The message he knew the other male had received from the Emperor might have had something to do with that. Mrastaran knew that the Emperor's staff was tired of so many capable males dying in challenges that had nothing to do with victory in a modern space war. Too many intelligent males had died through the ages because some hulking warrior had challenged them to a fight to the death. Mrastaran had listened to one of their scientists theorize that the intelligence of the species had decreased over the ages because of all the deaths of the superior minds of males in challenges. He agreed with their reasoning.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 15: All Quiet on the Second Front? Page 3
