Eleven ships were thrown out of warp, compression beams collapsing the field. Nine dropped out with no structural damage and some electronics shredded. A few of those ships could be repaired in place, the others only after being returned to a carrier or dock where technicians could replace the damaged parts. Two of the fighters flew apart under the stress, MAM reactors breaching and scattering two small clouds of plasma through the area.
“All ships. Align for best shot at the fleet and give them all your remaining missiles.”
Lauren looked at the plot, which showed the disordered formation of the Caca fighters. Over a hundred of them had fallen off, destroyed by missiles. Many of the others had committed the same fratricide that the Imperial fighters had just gone through, their frantic maneuvering running their warp drive beams into the bubbles of others. What had been six hundred fighters was now a mere four hundred.
The wings fired their missiles, taking the best shots they could, then turning and running at full speed for their assigned missile swarms. Behind them another thirty odd Caca warships were gone, with many more damaged.
The Caca pilots were game at least, turning their fighters into pursuit. They fell behind immediately, as did any missiles they fired. The human fighters were home free, for now, ready to pursue their next mission.
* * *
Great Admiral Mrastaran growled in anger as he watched more casualty figures come up on a side holo. More ships, destroyed or damaged. Two hundred of his precious warp fighters gone. And the enemy had lost at most fifteen birds. Even that figure was suspect, but it couldn't have been many more.
“They appear to have gone on multiple headings, my Lord. Each toward one of our missile streams.”
Mrastaran didn't have to ask why they were chasing his missiles. They would catch them, and with their capabilities they would blow many of them out of space. The missiles had some limited self-defense capability, mostly there to try and take out counter missiles. They weren't very good at that either, and against the fighters, which would obviously not approach from the front, they wouldn't do anything.
“Any sign of enemy capital ship missiles?”
“No, my Lord,” said the chief of staff, Admiral Trostara, grunting as he gave a head motion of negation. “But if they have anything out there firing at us, we should be seeing sign of them at any time.”
“All ships in the fleet are to boost up ten degrees, to port fifteen degrees for twenty minutes at full normal thrust,” ordered the Great Admiral, looking into the eyes of his subordinate admiral. “Let's make them show themselves.”
The orders started going out, and a minute later all of the ships made the course corrections and started boosting at five hundred and twenty gravities. Anything heading their way would soon have to make course corrections to adjust their vectors. Which would give them away by their graviton emissions.
“We have missile streams revealing themselves,” called Admiral Trostara less than five minutes later. “Closest is just over seven minutes contact time. Furthest is thirty-three minutes.”
“Keep track of all of them,” ordered Mrastaran. “And see if you can backtrack them to their origin points.”
If he could find out where their fleet was hidden he could hammer them over and over with overwhelming missile swarms. Until then, or until he got to the inhabited planet, all he could do was shoot at everything and hope to spark a reaction.
* * *
“The enemy fleet is changing vectors, ma'am,” reported Captain Janssen, looking over from the plot. “We're going to have to change the headings of our wormhole launched missiles if we're going to achieve hits.”
“Where are the stealth ships?” asked Beata, looking over a plot that was full of too many ships and missiles to easily make sense of.
Why couldn't we be facing a complete idiot? she thought. Too many Imperial commanders had faced opponents who couldn't think their way out of a wet paper box. But no, not this one. He reacted well and made good decisions. That wouldn't protect his fleet from all harm, but it could win him this battle.
“Up here, about six light minutes from the enemy fleet.”
“And how long would it take them to get ships to that point?”
“About twelve hours,” said the chief of staff, running the numbers. “They're up to point three seven light now, and it's going to take them six hours to come to a stop in the direction they're heading, then head back. They won't be a threat to our ships. However, these scouts over here might be able to vector onto them in five hours.”
“So they're safe for the moment,” said Beata, looking at the plot as she zoomed it out. “If Mara comes out here, how long to get her wormhole launched weapons into the Caca fleet.”
“Twenty light hours, so let's say just over twenty-one hours.”
Shit, thought Beata. That was too long. Nothing they fired at would be where they wanted it to be when they reached it.
“Get me Mara on the com.”
Montgomery came up on the holo almost immediately, just what her superior officer would have expected. With the battle for a contested system going on she would have to be dragged off her bridge, and no one aboard her flagship had the rank to force her to do anything.
“Ma'am?”
“Can you fight your way into the perimeter of the system?” asked Beata, coming up with a plan to use those ships and their wormholes.
“We might be able to take on the force they left out here, but it's going to be iffy. Might I suggest that we find a way around them. Perhaps over the top.”
“Show me what you're suggesting.”
Beata didn't really like the timescale involved, but she couldn't think of anything better. She needed to get Mara and her wormholes into the fight, without losing many of them to the three thousand Caca ships still outside the system. The admiral could order Mara to hit and run those ships until she had weakened them enough to take out, but that would also take time she didn't have
“Go ahead,” said Beata after studying the projected maneuver for a quick couple of seconds. “And as soon as you have a shot at anything Caca within the system, take it.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Beata noticed Captain Janssen hovering in the background with a face that said he had something important to tell her.
“I'll be back in contact in a couple of hours, Mara. Com if something important happens.” With a thought Beata dismissed her scout force commander, the subordinate she had the most faith in, and turned to the chief of staff.
“We have more special assets coming through the gate behind the planet, ma'am. Where do you want us to deploy them?”
Beata smiled at the thought of what came up on the holo beside her. Not something that would defeat the Caca force, but it sure could cause them some problems. Chan, you fucking genius, she thought.
* * *
The wormhole gate that reached back to the Supersystem sat in a far orbit behind the planet, out of sight of the incoming Cacas. They had to know there was a gate somewhere in the system, and they might even have a good idea where it was. The point was, they didn't know where it was, and they couldn't target it. Nor did they know what was coming through it.
And that was lots of fleet fast freighters, some of them boosting for points in the system at high acceleration, then coasting before they came within sight. Hundreds of shuttles moved equipment from ships down to the surface, or with strap on thrusters to the moon or orbital platforms.
Most of what was coming across were the conventional weapons of the military. Colliers full of missiles, offensive and counters. Hundreds of thousands of the mines, many transshipped from the Klavarta home system through the second gate out in the moon system of one of the gas giants.
And in one specific freighter came the newest invention from Admiral Chuntoa Chan's research and development think tank. It might not be a war winning weapon, and was actually a copy of something the Machines had used against Admiral Bednarczyk in that war. It was more of
a nuisance weapon, but one that could really disrupt the operations of the Cacas.
“It took some work to make sure this would be effective against the Cacas,” said Chan, a four-star admiral who was more scientist than military officer, and one of the most brilliant people in the Empire.
And also one of the most celebrated scientists in the Empire. Not because of her own developments, though she had come up with some wonderful tech. No, because she was absolutely brilliant in leading teams of other gifted people, picking the projects they would work on, combining discoveries.
“How many of the big bastards did you make shit in their pants,” said Beata with a laugh. She hadn't always been the greatest fan of the research maven, but she had appreciated what she had provided in the past. Including the war winning weapon that had saved the billions of lives that the Machines were on the verge of snuffing out. Including the life of one Beata Bednarczyk and every living being under her command.
“A few,” said the other admiral, smiling. “I can guarantee that if you get these things within range of the Cacas, they will react.”
“And getting them within range?”
“I can't do everything for you, Admiral Bednarczyk,” said Chan in a sarcastic tone. “You're the tactical genius here, not I. I'm sure you can come up with some imaginative ways to get the devices into their formations.”
Beata appreciated that the genius scientist knew her own weaknesses and wouldn't try to tell those with tactical experience how to do their jobs. Too many brilliant people seemed to think that their native intelligence made them experts at everything. In a time when no one mind could possibly have knowledge of every field that was nonsense.
“Thank you, Admiral,” said Beata, turning her attention to the plot, and the formations that were on there that hadn't shown themselves to the Cacas, yet. And one particular formation, the Gernas battle group near the planet.
Right near the planet, in the correct place to pick up the weapons. With their high accel potential, they could boost to a position ahead of the Cacas and release the weapons in their path. After that they could go about ferrying mines into position.
“Send an order to this Gernas battle group to rendezvous with this freighter here and pick up assets,” she told Janssen, pointing to the target formation on the plot. “And I want these freighters over here. They are to fire their missiles in passing the Caca fleet, then rendezvous with these freighters to rearm with missiles, then limpet all the mines they can carry to their hulls.”
“Anything else, ma'am?” asked Janssen, scrolling through a list of what they still had on the board.
“I think it's about time we brought the Slarna into the fight,” said Beata, smiling. “They wanted to attack the Cacas, so let them have their wish.”
She looked over the plot, seeing the four formations of Slarna scattered about the system, two in the asteroid near the projected path of the Cacas, one each in the moon fields of two of the gas giants.
“Project their earliest attack on the main Caca fleet from their current positions,” Beata ordered the computer.
Lines populated the plot, time stamps underneath.
“Calculate the best position for all Slarna forces to hit them at the same time, as well as boost and launch times.”
The lines shifted, the time stamps changed, and Beata grunted as she saw the results. The Cacas would be almost a light hour closer to Pleisia by the time the Slarna could execute that attack. Still forty light minutes out. By that time the Gernas would be putting the new weapons in the path of the Cacas, and launching missiles to cover their other activities. The fast attack craft would have already launched some minutes before and would be pulling decel across the path of the Cacas as they released mines.
This strategy wouldn't win the battle for her. What it would do was gall the Cacas, make them react instead of act, until she was ready to hit them with everything she had.
* * *
“We're picking up the signals from another Klavarta battle group, ma'am.”
“How many does that make?” asked Admiral Mara Montgomery, walking the flag bridge of her battle cruiser.
She had been gathering up stragglers all the way to the Pleisia system. Mostly Klavarta, though there had been a smattering of the human ships that had supported them directly. Even a few of the Slarna who had been with the frontier command. There were still ships on that frontier, though she had sent scouts out to order those to come and add to her force. They were useless out there. Yes, they might be able to warn of follow on forces, but the destroyers she had sent to take their places, equipped with Klassekian com techs, could handle that, while she needed all the firepower she could get.
“That's the seventh one thus far,” answered her chief of staff, Captain Michael Goruptal. “Here's our order of battle, so far.”
Mara's command, which was now much more than a scout force, was moving to a position, out of range of Caca sensors, to make a plunge into the system from above. By moving at low acceleration through hyper II they were putting out a signal that could only be picked up at sixty or so normal space light hours. They might still trip a sensor of some Caca warship lying at wait, but the only way those ships could communicate with their fleet was by sending out a grav pulse, something the human force would pick up easily.
It would still take her command more than a day, closer to two, to move into position in the II dimension at low boost. Admiral Bednarczyk seemed to think that was fast enough, but Mara still worried that she would not get there in time to actually influence the battle.
The order of battle on the holo showed all of her human ships at the top. Seventy-two battle cruisers, one hundred and forty-one light cruisers, two hundred and thirty-six destroyers. Also including three battleships, two with wormholes, that had been in support of the Klavarta fleet. That gave her a total of eleven wormholes that could be used to launch missile streams. She was expecting some more Imperial ships to come in from the dark, but had no way of knowing when.
In respect to the Klavarta ships the news was much better. Seventy percent of Admiral Klanarat's fleet had been destroyed. Which left the thirty percent that had gotten away. Sixteen hundred and thirty-eight of their smallish battleships, which were still larger than Mara's battle cruisers at ten million tons. Eight thousand seven hundred odd light cruisers, all smaller than the human variety, though better armed than destroyers. And over ten thousand destroyers. Also thirty-one of their small carriers, along with eight hundred warp fighters. The Klavarta ships were all smaller than the Terran ships in the same class. Still, they were modern warships with weapons of equal tech to those of most Terran vessels. That counted for something.
Along with a couple of hundred Slarna ships, and a couple of dozen of the other species, that gave her a ship strength of over twenty thousand eight hundred vessels. Not enough to go head to head with the monster fleet the Cacas had. Still, enough to give weight to Admiral Bednarczyk's fleet in the main battle while striking from the flank.
“At most we can expect a thousand more ships, ma'am,” continued the chief of staff. “When will they come along?” Goruptal shrugged his shoulders.
It really doesn't matter, thought Mara, looking back over the plot that showed the Pleisia system, transmitted through the wormhole from the Romulus, Beata's flagship. Another thousand ships, most probably light units, wouldn't make that much difference.
Chapter Fourteen
Success is sweet and sweeter if long delayed and gotten through many struggles and defeats. Amos Bronson Alcott
FEBRUARY 2OTH, 1004. MAIN CA'CADASAN FRONT
“We're ready to kick off the offensive, on your command, your Majesty,” announced Grand Fleet Admiral Gabriel Len Lenkowski, looking out of the holo at his monarch.
About time, thought Sean, trying to keep the look of frustration off his face. They had been preparing for what they hoped would be the last offensive for months, and something always seemed to get in the way. Ships needed her
e, ships needed there. And the current unpleasantness on the Klavarta front. He wanted to send Beata enough ships to get her out her problem, but there simply weren't any available. All had been assigned to units that were on the move. And Parliament had told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn't to take any more ships from the core system defense fleets, especially Home Fleet.
He really couldn't blame the Lords. They still had the disaster in the Aquilonia/Cimmeria twin core system on their minds. That had been early in the war, when the Empire was struggling just to keep from being overrun. His experts had told him that there was no way he could beat that large of a Caca force, not with the then discrepancy in tech. Today it would be a different story, but today was not when it happened. People still cursed his name for letting that disaster happen, when if he had done anything else he wouldn't have had a fleet to fight on. So seven billion had died. They had tried to evacuate as many people as possible, but it took time to get people off a planet and onto ships, and there just weren't enough ships available. At this point in the war it wouldn't happen. With wormhole gates they could evacuate a far larger portion of the population. And with all of the other system fleets just a wormhole away, any Caca attack would think it had run into a meat grinder.
The problem with deploying ships to the front was they could not always disengage from combat to return to the Empire. So, from the point of view of the people trying to protect their own assets, they wanted a powerful enough force in place to stop another slaughter. He tried nibbling away at those forces, sometimes with success, but that well was running dry.
How many people have died under my short reign? he thought, closing his eyes and thinking of all the death and destruction that had occurred since he had taken the throne. Not entirely his fault, since he had not asked for the Cacas to invade his Empire. Still, all the orders that had gone out after he had been crowned had been his, and his alone. He could call up exact numbers if he wanted, even looking at the cause of death and the locations. What was the point? He would go down in history as the human ruler who had lost more people in a war than any other, by orders of magnitude. Looking on the bright side, as long as he won this war, and ninety percent of the human species was still around, it would be a successful effort. Maybe not to the people who died, or their relatives, but to the species as a whole. So far he had lost just over ten billion out of over nine hundred billion humans, with an additional hundred million or so alien citizens out of their hundred billion. Looked at that way, he had not done too badly, and the Cacas had lost at least a hundred million of their own, mostly warriors or war industry workers. Numbers didn't tell the whole story, and he still tossed and turned at night, wondering if he could had issued different orders that would have left more people alive. Maybe, but his military experts thought he had, in most circumstances, made the right call.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 15: All Quiet on the Second Front? Page 17
