At All Costs

by David Weber

  Padgorny managed not to stare at him. It wasn't easy.

  "Admiral," she said instead, controlling her tone carefully, "the incoming forces we know about are on Zanzibar's side of the primary. They're coming in on the shortest, least-time approach. If we move towards them, we'll remain between them and the inner system. Forces approaching from other directions will have much further to travel, and I think it's unlikely we could be drawn far enough out of position to prevent us from responding if and when they make their alpha translation and we detect their footprints."

  And even if that weren't true, she thought, why in the world would they be bothering with diversions if they have an all-up task force or fleet out there in the first place? If they've got that kind of firepower, they certainly don't need to "distract" a single understrength battle squadron!

  "Overall," al-Bakr said, "I agree that your assessment is logical. However, if you advance far enough from the planet under Hildebrandt, they could execute a polar translation and effectively cut in behind you. Particularly since your base velocity would be directly away from the planet at the moment they made translation."

  Padgorny's jaw muscles tightened. What al-Bakr was suggesting was at least theoretically feasible. But it wouldn't be easy, and she couldn't conceive of any rational reason for the Peeps to attempt any such complicated maneuver.

  "Sir," she said, "given the range of our MDMs, they would have to time things very, very carefully if they intended to remain outside our engagement envelope. Moreover, they would be attacking directly into your own orbital defenses and the fire of our inner-system defense pods. They would have to be present in overwhelming strength to crack those defenses, even without the presence of my own battle squadron. In my estimation, this represents another probing attack, precisely the scenario Hildebrandt is designed to defeat. They're looking for information on your star system's defensive capabilities for future reference. And if we don't execute Hildebrandt-don't move out to engage these LACs short of the inner-system-they'll be able to get much deeper in and get a far better look at those defenses."

  "They can do that with recon drones, if they wish to," al-Bakr countered. "There's no need for them to risk their LACs doing the same job. So, with all due respect, Dame Evelyn, I believe the reason they are using LACs is specifically to draw you out of position."

  "I doubt very much, Sir, that Peeps are going to be able to sneak recon drones deep enough in-system to obtain the sort of information they need without our detecting them. Their drones simply aren't as stealthy as ours, and their sensors aren't as good. They couldn't pick up our concealed units... unless those units go active. Which is why they're using LACs. They may well have a drone screen out, but they want us to engage the LACs-or at least move to do so-because their drones can't pick our units up unless and until we bring them on-line."

  "Havenite technology has clearly improved greatly since the previous war, Admiral," al-Bakr said. "I believe it may be good enough to accomplish the task even if our defenses remain covert-or that they believe it is, at any rate. And it is, after all, their own assessment of their technology's capabilities which will govern their choice of tactics."

  "Sir, I'm afraid I can't share your interpretation of their intentions." Padgorny kept both her tone and her expression as nonconfrontational as she possibly could. "But whichever one of us is correct, we're faced with the fact that almost seven hundred hostile LACs are headed in-system and accelerating at over six and a half KPS squared. And while they're already inside most of your asteroid industry, there are-" she checked the CIC sidebar on the main plot "-twenty-three of your extraction freighters directly in their path. In addition to one Manticoran, one Solarian, and two Andermani merchantmen. If we don't respond, most of those extraction vessels and at least one of the Andermani freighters will find themselves in the Peeps' attack range before they can reach the cover of your orbital defenses."

  "I'm aware of the shipping movements, Admiral Padgorny," al-Bakr said a bit frostily. "This, after all, is not the first time the Peeps have visited this system," he added pointedly. "And I haven't said you can't engage these intruders. I've simply said that I won't authorize Hildebrandt. Your vessels, and the inner-system LACs, must remain in position to cover the planet and our most vital space infrastructure. I would point out to you that it was for precisely this sort of circumstance that the outer-system LACs and pods were deployed in the first place."

  Padgorny discovered that her teeth ached from the force her jaw muscles were now exerting.

  "Admiral al-Bakr," she said after a momemt, "at this time, we have no reason to believe the Peeps realize the outer-system defenses are present. If we use them against this attack, however, that will change. Which will provide their planners with valuable intelligence in the event that they do decide to execute a serious attack on Zanzibar in future. I strongly urge you to allow me to use Hildebrandt rather than reveal that capability."

  "I'm afraid I can't do that," al-Bakr said flatly. "I realize you continue to have a great deal of faith in the superiority of our-and, particularly, your Star Kingdom's-technology over that of Haven. However, I-and my Caliph-are no longer in a position to place complete trust in that superiority, especially in light of the price the Caliphate has already paid. I believe it's probable Haven already knows from its own recon drones or other intelligence sources that we've been deploying LAC tenders and pods in the outer system. Which is one reason I believe this is a feint."

  Padgorny tried hard not to goggle at him. If the Caliph and his military advisers thought anything of the sort, why the hell hadn't they said so sooner than this? From the hardening of his expression, she realized she hadn't fully succeeded in controlling her own.

  "At any rate, Admiral Padgorny," his voice was flatter than before, "I am not prepared to further debate my decision as the commander of this star system's defenses. You will not execute Hildebrandt and uncover the inner-system. And you will use the outer-system defenses to deal with this attack. Is that understood?"

  Padgorny inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring, and reminded herself diplomacy wasn't her forte.

  "It is, Admiral al-Bakr," she said, her voice almost as flat as his. "For the record, however, I strongly dissent from your analysis of the situation and of the enemy's intentions. I wish for my objection to the orders you've just issued to be made part of the official record. And I will be reporting that objection to my own superiors in my next dispatch."

  Their eyes locked in the com display. It was hard to say whose were harder, and tension hovered between them.

  "Both your dissent and your objection are noted, Admiral," al-Bakr replied. "And, you are, of course, free to state whatever objections you choose to your superiors. Nonetheless, at this time, my orders stand."

  "Very well, Admiral," Padgorny said coldly. "With your permission. Padgorny, clear."

  Chapter Nine

  "You're kidding."

  Commander Eric Hertz looked in disbelief at Captain Everard Broughton's face on his com screen.

  "No," Broughton said with commendable restraint. "I am not kidding. Neither is Dame Evelyn."

  "But there's no need," Hertz protested. "I thought the entire idea was for us to be a hole in space until they really needed us!"

  "Plans, apparently, have changed."

  Broughton turned away from Hertz to glare disgustedly at the tactical plot. The oncoming Havenite LACs had been inbound for almost thirty minutes. They were up to a velocity relative to the system primary of 12,788 kilometers per second, and they'd traveled over twelve million kilometers. They were also only about twenty minutes from bringing the closest extraction ships under long-range missile fire.

  "Whatever we may think of it, we've got our orders," he said, turning back to his com pickup. "And under the circumstances, since there's no way you're going to be able to actually intercept them before they hit the extraction ships, we might as well go for the whole enchilada."

  Hertz's expression tightened.<
br />
  "What do you mean?" he asked in the tone of a man who suspected he'd already guessed.

  "The only way we're going to be able to do anything to save the extraction ships is to use the pods," Broughton said bitterly. "So since we're going to give away our presence, anyway, we might as well get the best return we can."

  He looked across his command deck at his tactical officer.

  "Activate the pods," he said. "Target the LACs with-" he glanced at the plot's data bars "-the gamma platforms that have the range. Then bring up the delta platforms and designate the CLACs for any of them that have the reach."

  * * *

  "Anything from the drone screen?" Oliver Diamato asked.

  "Uh, no, Sir," Commander Robert Zucker, his ops officer said quickly, and looked a silent question at his admiral.

  "There ought to be," Diamato said. "Look at it. The LACs are going to run right over those extraction ships. And it's going to take some sort of miracle for that merchantman to slip away. They've got to know we're here-for that matter, the fact that the extraction ships are scattering the way they are proves they know. So, where's the response? There ought to at least be a flock of Manty LACs coming out to meet us by now!"

  "You think they're up to something sneaky, Sir?"

  "I think there's a pretty good chance of it, yes," Diamato replied. "Manties can screw up just like anyone else, but counting on them to do that isn't exactly the smartest thing you can do."

  He frowned at the master plot for a few more seconds, then wheeled around to face his communications officer.

  "Get me a link to Admiral Duval."

  "Yes, Sir."

  Diamato crossed towards his command chair. He was just about to sit down in it when a strident alarm sounded.

  "Missile launch!" a taut voice from CIC announced sharply. "Multiple hostile missile launches along the belt! Many missiles inbound at four-five-one KPS squared! Time to first impact four-zero-niner seconds!"

  * * *

  "Well, there they go," Hartnett observed bitterly as the firefly icons of multi-drive missiles suddenly speckled the master plot. They streaked across it, moving visibly even on the plot's scale, and the smaller, far more slowly moving light codes of LACs began to blossom as well, as the Shrike and Ferret squadrons lit off their impellers.

  "Yes." Padgorny's single-syllable reply sounded as if she'd bitten it out of a sheet of hammered bronze. She found it difficult to believe just how angry she actually was, and she forced herself to lean back in her command chair and swallow all the other words she badly wanted to say.

  "Broughton is targeting their CLACs with the delta platforms, Ma'am," Thackeray reported, and Padgorny nodded in acknowledgment. She hadn't specifically dictated targets, but she'd known Broughton would have to use at least some of the pods. His own LACs were much too far astern of the Peeps to overhaul them, after all. And he was right to go after the CLACs, as well. If they had to do this, then they might as well do it as effectively as possible. If he could pick off the CLACs, or even just hammer them badly enough to force them to withdraw into hyper, all the LACs the Peeps had committed to their probe would be doomed, whatever else happened. And killing a couple of the Peeps' superdreadnought-sized LAC carriers would be worthwhile in its own right.

  "He's using the gamma platforms on the LACs," Hartnett observed. The chief of staff snorted. "I know it's the only way he can engage them short of the freighters, but his target solutions on them are going to be lousy at this range!"

  "Better than he'd have on our LACs," Padgorny pointed out. "Their EW still leaves quite a bit to be desired."

  * * *

  Rear Admiral Diamato listened to the eruption of sharp, staccato combat chatter as the Manty missiles roared towards the task group.

  The voices on the command circuits were harsh, strained, but not panicky. Communications discipline never really faltered, and the orders came crisply and quickly. He felt himself settling back into his command chair, nodding in satisfaction despite the suddenly altered tactical situation as he listened to his people responding to it. There was no need for him to give any orders; they were already doing exactly what they needed to do.

  Captain Hall would be proud of them, he thought.

  * * *

  "Oh, shit," Captain Morton Schneider said almost conversationally as the sudden ugly rash of crimson missile icons erupted behind him. His LAC formation had been just about to reverse acceleration when the hundreds of impeller signatures sprang into malevolent life.

  "Range is approximately five-one million klicks," Lieutenant Rothschild, his tactical officer reported in a hard-edged voice. "At constant acceleration on our part, actual flight distance will be five-seven-point-five million klicks. Flight time approximately eight-point-four minutes."

  "Acknowledged," Schneider replied.

  "We have LACs lighting off as well," Rothschild continued. "Estimate approximately fourteen hundred MDMs targeted on us. Looks like somewhere between four and five hundred of their LACs accelerating to come in behind them."

  "They're not a threat... yet," Schneider said, concentrating on the far more immediate danger. "Formation Mike-Delta-One. And prepare to implement Zizka."

  "Aye, Sir!"

  The LAC formation altered abruptly, each tiny vessel accelerating on its own, carefully preplanned vector change. Zizka was new-a variant of the "Triple Ripple" the Fleet had employed so successfully against the Manties' LACs. It was wasteful, in some ways, but with that many Manty MDMs coming towards them, they needed the best defense they could get.

  Not that circumstances were perfect for Zizka. With the hostile missiles already launched and incoming, there was less response time than the doctrine's formulators had hoped there would be, but Schneider's battle hardened squadron commanders had learned their trade well. He watched his plot-necessarily far less detailed than that available in a larger, more capable warship-as his strike formation transformed itself into a defensive one, designed to provide the maximum number of clear sightlines for his units' sensors and flight paths for their counter-missiles.

  "They're targeting the task group, too, Sir," the tac officer said. "Looks like they're concentrating on Skylark and Peregrine."

  "Makes sense," Schneider grunted. "Kill the carriers, trap the LACs."

  "And they're firing a lot of missiles, Sir," Rothschild said quietly.

  * * *

  "Launching counter-missiles!" Commander Zucker reported, and Diamato nodded.

  The range was still long, but Republican warships carried a lot of counter-missiles these days. They had to, given their weapons' individually poorer capabilities. Now all eight of his battlecruisers, both the carriers, and his two light cruisers, were pumping out every CM they could. Targeting solutions were marginal, at best, at such a distance, but just over eight hundred MDMs were headed for the two CLACs, and any kills were better than none.

  The counter-missiles streaked outward, and the EW platforms accompanying the attack missiles brought up their onboard systems. Jagged cascades of jamming erupted all across the wavefront of Manty missiles, blinding the counter-missiles' rudimentary seekers and seriously degrading even the performance of the starships' far more capable fire control. Then the platforms the Manties had designated "Dragon's Teeth" lit off, and the threat sources abruptly multiplied impossibly.

  They must have deployed hundreds-thousands-of pods around the periphery, Diamato thought coldly. That had to cost them a pretty credit. But I don't think they've got as many of them as they'd like to have.

  Sherman quivered as a second wave of counter-missiles erupted from her tubes. The Republican Navy had refitted its battlecruisers heavily, doubling their original number of counter-missile tubes at the expense of a sizable percentage of their energy armament. More energy weapons tonnage and volume had gone into additional telemetry links, and Sherman and her consorts were tossing canisters of counter-missiles out of their standard missile tubes, as well.

  "First wave interce
pt in twenty-three seconds," Tactical announced tersely as yet a third wave of CMs launched.

  * * *

  "Jesus," somebody muttered behind Everard Broughton. It was hardly a professional comment, but it summed up the captain's own reaction quite nicely.

  The heavily stealthed reconnaissance platforms which had been observing the Peeps since their arrival were close enough to see the individual counter-missiles being launched, and Broughton had never seen so many CMs from so few launch platforms.

  "They've got to be cutting their own control links to the first wave," Lieutenant Commander Witcinski said quietly. Broughton looked at him, and the LAC tender Marigold's captain grimaced. "They can't have clear transmission paths to them, Sir. Not with that many impeller wedges between them and the birds."