That was an order the commanders would already be aware of, but it never hurt to make sure they were reminded. As a species, Ca'cadasans tended to act and react at a moment’s notice, without really thinking about the consequences. Any untoward movement before everyone was ready could tip off the enemy. He didn't think they would be able to get away, but anything that might make the victory less than complete was unacceptable.
Now all he could do was wait. He had gotten sufficient rest, and doubted he would be able to sleep again until this battle was over. The same with eating. He knew from experience that the coming fight would cause too much anxiety, something he would be careful not to show, but would still feel.
All I can do is wait for the seconds to tick by. Of course, relativity would make time in the rest of the slow-moving universe pass faster. Not fast enough for him.
* * *
The Grand Fleet Admiral looked over the current dispositions at the front as he made his final plans. As far as his scouts could tell, the enemy was split into eight major formations, as well as a dozen smaller groups that were peeling off and taking out systems as the main fleet passed. He would hit three of their major formations with his own, routing them, hopefully totally destroying them, before he settled on the second part of his strategy.
He was sure that the first part of the battle would be a slaughter, but what the enemy did after that would determine how quickly he could get the whole thing over with. If the five remaining formations stayed separate, he could again take out three, then close in on the final two and destroy them. After that he would split his forces and go after all the smaller groups. Then would come the liberation of the systems the Cacas had taken back. So simple, against a simple minded enemy. He smiled at the thought.
Perhaps we can push deep into their Empire before they can bring up reinforcements, he thought, his smile widening. He imagined the glory that would be his if he outdid the humans of the Empire on the other front. A thousand light years, two? Why not all the way, reaching the enemy capital system and taking out their government while the rest of their fleet was looking the other way.
That might be a little more than we can bite off in one chunk, thought the admiral, shrugging his shoulders. It wouldn't do to push in so far that he had outrun his supply line. Wormholes would help. A lot. Maybe enough where resupply would not be a problem after all. But protecting his extended flanks would still be a major bitch, and inviting the enemy to push in from the sides and mop up the systems he would take away from them was not something he wanted to risk. No, he would take care of the business ahead of him, figure out what he had left, and wait for the president to give him his orders.
“I want us to split into the three unit configuration in one hour,” he told his chief of staff, Captain Signa Jakaris. He looked over the dispositions again. “No. In two hours. The three groups will proceed along these three vectors until they make contact with their targets and destroy them.”
“They won't be in mutual support range,” said Signa, frowning. “Sir,” she added quickly as the admiral sent her a disapproving look.
“We will overwhelm the groups and then move on to the others,” said Klanarat, his frown turning into a smile as he went over his own brilliant plan in his mind. “There will be no need for mutual support.”
“And the Imperials?”
“They can stay back and watch our thunder,” said the admiral after huffing out a scoff. “They can move into the systems and retake them from the Cacas. That should be enough to keep them busy.”
There were about two dozen inhabited systems that the Cacas had already overrun. And a few that were still resisting. They wouldn't last long, not against an enemy that controlled space. They might be able to continue the resistance when the Cacas landed, but not for long. Even Klavarta warriors couldn't resist long against orbital bombardment. Another half dozen systems would be entered before the Klavarta fleet went into action. There were thousands of other systems out here. Most of those were useless. Red dwarves, giant stars, places where habitable planets were rare. Resource poor for the most part, but they could still hide fleets, bases, depots. The enemy would have to scout them, and Klanarat would have to order them scouted by his side when he got to them.
“Make sure the battle group commanders know where they're going,” he told Jakaris.
“And their orders?”
“Why, annihilate the enemy, of course. They are to destroy every Caca ship that they sight. No prisoners.”
The Imperials might not like those kind of orders. They believed in letting people surrender when possible. Klanarat could care less about prisoners, since the ranking Cacas wouldn't let themselves be taken, and the low ranks wouldn't know shit. Besides, it was too dangerous trying to board ships that might self-destruct and take valuable warriors with them.
Klanarat walked off the flag bridge, already going over in his mind how he would receive the honors that would be his. Probably back at the capital, where the president could hand out his medals and hold a victory feast. He was destined for the history books, and children across the nation would know his name. He didn't think about the enemy or how they might react to subvert his plan. They were already doomed as far as he was concerned.
Chapter Six
We must expect reverses, even defeats. They are sent to teach us wisdom and prudence, to call forth greater energies, and to prevent our falling into greater disasters. Robert E. Lee
“Admiral Sandakar's fleet is picking up the enemy,” called out the com officer, looking back at his commander.
“What is he picking up?” asked Klanarat, staring at the plot.
He had a good idea what was waiting for him in the various locations the enemy fleet was deployed. With his wormholes, and more importantly, his Klassekian com techs, he was getting good picture of what was out there. It looked like the enemy had maintained their eight battle groups, as well as all their smaller scouting groups. They had fallen right into his trap, and now was the time to spring it on them. Within the next couple of hours forty percent of their fleet would be gone, and his battle groups would be headed for three of the others. And there was no possible way the enemy could congregate their forces in time.
“We're picking up the enemy force that's our target ahead,” called out the flag sensor officer. “Ship numbers confirm the fleet strength we predicted, sir. More or less.”
“Not a very accurate report, Commander,” said the admiral in a low voice, glaring at the officer. “I expect more exactness from you.”
“I'm having trouble getting an accurate count on them, Sir,” said the apologetic officer. “There's some interference like I've never seen.”
“Are you sure you're picking up their fleet?” asked a worried Klanarat, leaning forward in his chair.
“The resonances match Caca ships. I'm just having trouble picking out the individual signals.”
“We're getting a hail from the Imperial admiral, Sir,” called out the com officer.
What in the hell does she want now? thought Klanarat, considering sending her away without answering the com. Thinking that wouldn't be a good idea, since his behavior might get back to the president, he made a hand motion at his com officer.
“Admiral,” said the Grand Fleet Admiral from the Empire he had been saddled with. “We're monitoring your take. I advise you wait until we come up to support you.”
“And how long will that take?” asked Klanarat, pretty sure what the answer would be.
“Eighteen hours. Possibly twenty-four.”
“Admiral. We have the enemy ahead and will bring them to action in three hours. If I wait they might flee, and join up with other battle groups of theirs. Therefore, I reject your advice and am proceeding with my attack.”
He had over forty percent of his entire force in his local battlegroup, outnumbering this enemy by almost two to one in tonnage, with many more wormhole launchers than they could possibly have deployed. With his acceleration advantage
there was no way they could run away, as long as he continued in. There was no way he was going to pass up this target.
“Admiral,” continued the human admiral, her brows furrowing in concern. “We are looking over your sensor readings, and I have a funny feeling about them.”
“Can you be more specific?” Klanarat didn't have time for an officer with cold feet trying to change his plan at the last minute.
“I can't,” said Bednarczyk, shrugging her shoulders. “But I do know that these canny bastards are capable of pulling tricks, just like we are. I wouldn't trust those returns.”
“Understood. And I disagree.” The admiral shook his head. “I have my strategy plotted out, and I think we're about to hit them with a knockout blow. Now, I have things to do.”
Klanarat waved his hand at his com officer, instructing that Alpha to terminate the connection. The last he saw of Bednarczyk was a look of protest on her face.
“Prepare for liquid injection,” ordered Klanarat. “To all ships. In one hour. All non-Alphas are to have breathing masks in place at that time.”
That would be two hours before contact, but he wanted to be ready for increase acceleration well before his fleet was launching missiles at the enemy and taking their return fire. Just in case.
* * *
“That stupid asshole,” screamed Beata, looking into the face of Admiral Mara Montgomery on the holo.
Beata had retreated to her day cabin, getting away from the people she didn't want to overhear her rant. She shouldn't be ranting to Mara either, since the other woman was a subordinate. She was also Beata's oldest friend, and someone she had ranted to many times in the past.
“Maybe it's just a sensor glitch,” said Mara, trying to sound like she might believe it and failing miserably.
“Across three battle groups,” growled Beata, putting her hands on her hips as she stood in the center of the cabin. “Unlikely as hell, and you know it.”
“Just bringing up the possibilities,” said the lower ranking admiral, shrugging her shoulders. “I don't believe it either, but since there is nothing we can do about it, we might as well hope for the best.”
Beata scowled. Even if they went to emergency accel with everyone in the acceleration tubes, they wouldn't get there any faster. They were already up to point nine two light in VII, the fastest they could go without particle radiation sleeting through their electromagnetic shields and hull.
“What are we going to do if Admiral Klanarat does stick his neck into a trap?” asked the scout force commander.
“I'm not sure,” admitted Beata. “I guess we'll have to wait until we see what's left after the fire dies down.” She still couldn't believe that the Klavarta admiral was wedded to a plan that had so many risks. And with sensor readings that pointed to the possibility that he was being led into the noose.
I hope I'm wrong, thought Beata. Not that she liked to be wrong, but it would be better for all concerned if she was in this case.
* * *
“They're doing just like you predicted, Great Admiral,” said the chief of staff, bowing his head toward the supreme commander of the fleet.
“Dangle the proper bait, and of course they will jump at it,” said Mrastaran with a laugh. They see what they want to see, just as those human commanders in the past said.
Hanging in the air, in a holo globe, was the special ship he was using to spoof the enemy. A fifty thousand ton ship, almost totally unarmed, with a minimal crew of thirty males. It could only accelerate at four hundred gravities, though it had many oversized grabbers and a huge hyperdrive array relative to the volume of the ship. They had one purpose, and one only. To put out the maximum graviton footprint, to make the enemy think that each of them was a superbattleship. There were still some problems with the concept, and the signals didn't always match up exactly to the resonances of the real capital ships. Still, they put out a signal that an enemy that was looking for such would be sure to latch onto as confirmation of what they expected.
“Is everything ready for the transfer?” Mrastaran asked.
His fleet was ready for the first fight. As soon as they had defeated that enemy force they needed to move everything to the secondary battle position. As quickly as possible. They would be in normal space and jumping into hyper for the engagement, so they wouldn't be able to use their wormhole gates for missile launches. Still, with the numerical advantage it shouldn't make much of a difference.
“It looks like they're going in for the kill, my Lord,” said the chief of staff.
Signals were flying back and forth by grav pulse, relayed through scores of ships. A clunky method compared to what the humans were using, but hopefully it was getting the job done.
“Yes,” said Mrastaran, watching as the three Klavarta commands moved across the plot. At this range, two of those commands were really just blobs of diffused gravitons. Actually they were just reported coordinates. The one moving toward him was more distinct, since they were being picked up by the sensors of the ships of his battle group.
Two of those human commands were going to be surprised when they found nothing but a few ships vectoring away while the decoy vessels fell into normal space. They might drop ships out of hyper to go looking for the Ca'cadasan fleet that wasn't there. If so, good. That would fix them in place for his next move. One, the right flank, would immediately receive a different surprise.
“They're almost to us, my Lord.”
“Send out the signal. We will jump into VII at my command.”
* * *
“This is damned peculiar, sir,” said Admiral Vikon Landa, the commander of the right flank. “We're almost on top of them. We should be getting a better read on them by now.”
“Same here, Vikon,” said Klanarat, staring at his own plot. “I'm not sure what's going on.” The admiral was starting to wonder if the Cacas were trying to trap him. Or could they be trying to get his forces out of place so they could run around his flanks and get into the core of his nation. He didn't think that would help them. He would catch them, well before they got to any of the core worlds. Or he might send most of his ships through wormhole gates. He...
“Shit,” called out Landa.
“What's going on,” yelled out Klanarat, turning back to the holo of his right flank force commander.
“We have ships transiting into hyper VII ahead of us. Thousands of them. I... My God.”
Klanarat looked over at the take appearing on another holo, showing not only thousands of ships appearing in hyper VII to the front, but the same occurring to the rear.
“They're opening fire. Missiles coming in from both sides.”
“Get the hell out of there,” screamed Klanarat, his heart skipping a beat.
“We're going too fast to change dimensions,” replied the other admiral, his voice on the edge of panic. “They've got us boxed in.”
The supreme commander watched in horror as hundreds of thousands of missiles appeared on the plot of that flank force. Missiles started moving out in return, aiming for the enemy. There were some streams of fast-moving weapons from wormhole launchers, the most deadly weapon the Klavarta possessed.
Caca ships, moving at very low velocities, dropped out of hyper VII and down to VI before the missile waves got to them, at the last minute. Seconds later they were back in hyper VII and firing their next wave of missiles. The Klavarta were not able to do the same. They were furiously decelerating, trying to kill enough velocity so that they too could change dimensions. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen for several hours, and with Klavarta ships starting to fall off the plot from missile hits, there might not be anything left to translate down.
* * *
Beata looked at the take from the Klavarta right flank in horror as the outnumbered allied ships were pounded by the Cacas. The enemy were going at point one to two light at most, but the Klavarta were running right into the largest group of Cacas at high speed, so the missiles were closing with the combined velocity o
f the forces. There were more Caca ships to the flanks and slightly ahead, sending in missiles that were barely making it into the Klavarta formation. Barely was good enough, and they were generating hits. The force behind them was much smaller, and what it was firing was having a difficult time catching up. They didn't need to. All they needed to do was make sure the enemy knew there was something behind them.
She clenched her fists, raging internally that she couldn't get there in time to add her fire to the defense. Even if she was, the outcome would still not be in doubt, given the numbers of enemy ships. She started thinking of how she was going to rendezvous with Admiral Klanarat so they could launch some kind of counterattack.
“Start working on a plan that has us falling back behind the enemy,” she ordered her chief of staff, Captain Sigurd Janssen. “I want us able to hit and run, while we allow the evacuation of the planets back there.”
“We aren't going to come to the aid of the Klavarta?” asked the horrified staff officer.
“We will if we can. But if this continues on into the crapper, I want something to fall back on.”
And it was definitely looking like the crapper was about to be filled.
* * *
“There's, nothing here, sir,” reported the flag sensor officer, looking over all the takes coming in from every ship in the battle group. Some were coming in through wormhole coms from those relatively few ships that had them. Many from Klassekian com techs, the rest through lascom and even grav pulse. The signals weren't all arriving at the flagship in a timely manner, but the flag sensor officer was still able to put together an understandable composite.
“How in the hell is that possible?” asked Klanarat, his eyes widening as he looked at the empty plot of local space. “There weren't that many hyper translations ahead of us.”
In fact, from their readings, less than five million tons of vessels had dropped out of hyper. When the graviton emissions had indicated several billion tons of warships ahead.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 15: All Quiet on the Second Front? Page 8
