by Jay Allan
It had lost the first ship in the battle. That was irrelevant, it knew, and yet it was somehow…disturbing. The vessel wasn’t relevant, and it had delivered its message before it was destroyed. There was no reason to consider it further…and yet it lingered.
It reviewed the message again, the final transmission from the scout ship. It was an update, a scan from closer of the enemy fleet. It mostly matched SP-01012’s calculations, and it confirmed the advantage in numbers it enjoyed. The fight would begin in earnest in a couple hours, and it would continue until the humans were destroyed. That, it promised itself.
* * *
“Five minutes…”
Admiral Clark listened to the announcement, as he had been doing for the past hour. But now, it was only moments until his ships would open fire. When the battle would truly begin.
Clark was young for his rank, and one of the few truly senior officers outside either the Pilgrims or the first generation of those born out here. He’d been a captain as recently as a year and a half before, and his upgrade from commodore to admiral was still less than a week old. Admiral Frette had a reputation for recognizing talent, and for promoting those she figured truly had it over those who didn’t…regardless of age. But Admiral Clark was notable even among those. He was only 39.
Frette hadn’t seemed troubled by that when she’d issued his promotion, but he was. He felt he had been moved up too far and too fast…and he didn’t see in himself the abilities that Frette—and many of his subordinates—did.
I hope they’re right…
“Three minutes…”
Clark made all the effort he could to put it all out of his mind. He had accepted the position, and it was time to make it work. “All weapons…prepare to charge.”
“Yes, sir…all weapons activating.”
Clark sat still…very still. He knew the coming battle would be a difficult one, and the enemy forces were on the larger side of estimates, but it didn’t matter. His forces would fight like mad…whether they won or lost.
“All weapons…begin at 110%” That was his idea, and Admiral Frette had come close to forbidding it, at least from the start. But Clark figured his ships needed every edge they could get, and his commander had ultimately agreed with him.
“Yes, sir…all weapons overcharged ten percent.” A few seconds of silence, and then, “Two minutes.”
Clark didn’t know for certain what the enemy ranges were. His best estimate was they were right around the same as his…but that was just a guess. The increase in power would also bolster his range slightly, as well as increasing his weapons’ effectiveness…and even the smallest edge could be an advantage. If his forces fired first, if they scored some hits, that would be an advantage. It might not be enough, but the fight was going to take everything he could get. He knew his fleet was outnumbered and outgunned, and they had the planet to defend. He would take any edge he could get.
“One minute.”
He did all he could to clear his mind. He knew it was still possible for the enemy to fire first…but they were running out of time. In forty seconds, his entire force—no, the entire force, both his ships and the other commands were all firing at 110%—would open up. And if the enemy didn’t shoot within that time, his side would get the first shot.
“Thirty seconds.”
“All gunnery stations ready.”
“Yes, sir…all gunnery stations ready.”
He looked at the display, at the vast number of enemy ships moving toward his forces. He had picked up charges of guns and weaponry…but they hadn’t fired. Not yet.
“Fifteen seconds.”
“All stations…prepare to fire.” He took a deep breath…and he held it.
The seconds went by slowly, one at a time. It was only a quarter of a minute, almost no time at all, but it seemed to endure endlessly.
And then it was over. He watched the countdown until two seconds, and then he turned his head an uttered a single word, a command to his entire section of the fleet.
“Fire.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
E2S Carson City
Alpha-Omega 12 System
Earth Two Date 04.12.63
Max Harmon sat on the bridge, his eyes mostly fixed on the comm station. He had to remind himself to breathe, to do anything at all…except wait. He’d considered at least a dozen plans for communication between his ships, once they were in the system with the Regent. But in the end, he’d opted for the most precise.
For the craziest.
His ship and the other nine were to actually meet up, to connect to each other. There would be no communication…none at all…at least until the ships were actually adjoined. It was insane, especially with no comm before or during the link. Space was truly vast, even a single solar system, and his plan required precise calculations. He knew his ships would be able to detect each other at a kilometer’s distance, by naked eyesight if nothing else, but considering the vastness of space, that was a thousand times more precise than a perfect bullseye. He knew not all of his ships were likely to be so exact, and without communications, the vessels that didn’t contact the others would likely be lost, at least for the duration of the mission.
He thought about that, about how it could actually be a way to survive, to sidestep involvement in what most of those aboard—probably rightly—considered a suicide mission. Perhaps many of his people, most even, were hoping that their ship came up blank, that no other vessels appeared. At least that would give the crew a chance to survive. For a while, at least. Still, Harmon knew how important the mission was, to those in the small fleet, and to those back home, fighting or soon to fight to defend Earth-2…and he was fairly sure his people did as well.
Hell…this may be a key moment, not just for us, but in all of human history. What will the Regent field if it has a hundred and fifty years to prepare, and what will humanity possess? Will they be able to face the total surprise coming from the transit point? They can’t even have imagined that we survived…but another Regent? It is almost certain that they will be totally surprised…and probably destroyed.
He watched the action—or the lack of it—silently moving his head from the comm station to the display and then back again. It was time for the link up, or very close to it…but he didn’t see any other ships yet. He knew what to expect, that he would see each vessel as it closed, viewing it for a minute, or even a few seconds before it finished its journey to contact range. The new stealth systems installed in the vessels were amazing, even interfering with actual sight, at least until the target was very close. But there was nothing assured. He hadn’t had time to test everything out, and he realized he was depending as much on the Mules’ track record as he was on his actual knowledge of their new system.
Not ‘as much.’ More. Vastly more. He knew almost nothing about how the Mules’ system worked.
At least, from what he had seen to date, the ships seemed to work very well. He couldn’t be sure what the First Imperium was able to detect, of course, but nothing his people possessed had been able to find the ships.
And it doesn’t look like the Regent has found anything yet…at least there has been no response we can see…
He sat for another few minutes, maybe five. Still nothing. He realized he had set the time very precisely, that it probably would have been smarter to stretch it out more, to allow more time for his ships to arrive. He knew it was still fairly early, that his vessels could still appear at the designated site. But now, he began to worry—more even than he had before—that none of the vessels would arrive. That wouldn’t change anything, of course, except the chances of success. He was prepared to go in with just one ship, to come up with some way to challenge the Regent. On one level, he realized that a single ship against the enemy was even more ludicrous than his scanty ten vessel fleet…but he also understood that if he were here alone, in a small shuttle, he would still go in, still make the effort.
He realized he had spent most of h
is life fighting the Regent, hating it, and that defeating the alien menace was his sole priority. He loved his wife and daughters, and he truly wanted the best for his people, whether they all realized that or not…but he knew that the only way to ensure the future for all of them was to destroy the Regent. And he was going to do just that, whatever it took.
He hoped he survived it, of course, but he knew that wasn’t critical. He would do whatever he had to do, sacrifice what remained of his reputation, send all the people who’d come with him to their deaths…but he was determined to find a way to kill the Regent.
He turned his head from the display yet again, bringing it back to the comm station…but he only got halfway before he jerked it back.
He saw something on the screen, a tiny glimmer…but he knew what it was.
“Focus in on that ship.”
“Yes, sir.”
He watched as the screen changed, as a tiny dot expanded to a larger oval. Two ovals. One was his ship…and there was another one, less than two klicks away. He knew that two of ten ships was still a long way from what he had hoped…but it filled him with joy, nevertheless. And if one other ship could travel so far and reconnect, he imagined others could, too.
He watched as the vessel moved closer to his…and then he saw a third one appear, suddenly, and almost immediately after that, a fourth. He felt some relief as he watched the newly arrived ships moving very slowly toward each other. He knew that docking operations would be difficult without any communications, but on that single fact he had been absolutely clear…there was to be no use of the comm, not to aid in docking, and not to find the ships that didn’t appear. No use of the comm at all in the system, save for one purpose. To report the certain demise of the Regent.
He saw a fifth ship appear, just as the first one he had seen moved close to his and then connected. It wasn’t the most graceful union he’d ever seen, and he had to reach out to keep himself from falling from his chair…but a few seconds later, he saw the computer console showing a green light. The ship was connected.
He watched as another ship appeared, and then another. It took a long while, perhaps half an hour, for the whole fleet to appear and to dock, but it did.
Almost.
He looked at the screen, seeing the strange formation of vessels docked together, anxious to meet with the captains of each.
Anxious to start the mission. The mission to destroy the Regent.
He stared for a long while, glad so many of his ships had come through…but still sorry. Sorry for the one vessel that apparently hadn’t made it. He had nine ships total, and that was one less than he’d brought with him. On the one hand, nine was a great number, and enough to support his mission…but he still wondered what had happened to the last vessel. For an instant, he felt a cold sensation, a feeling that the ship had been detected by the enemy, even intercepted. But he would have picked that up, almost certainly. He wasn’t sure what had happened, where the ship was…but he knew he couldn’t wait forever. He had to move forward…soon. Whatever chance he had, even if it was as close to zero as he imagined many of his people thought, it would only go down if he waited. He had to move, and he had to do it now.
“Get the captains to the briefing room as soon as possible…” He looked at the screen once more, hoping pointlessly to see the last ship appear. But there was nothing.
He looked for a few more minutes, and then he got up, turning to walk toward the lift. He had to get to the meeting…and tell the other captains just what a crazy, insane plan he had.
And hope that they were onboard with it…at least enough to get them to go along.
* * *
The Regent sat, scanning the system as it always did…and coming up with nothing. Almost nothing.
It had gotten a blip…no, not even really a blip, just a part of one. It had pumped scans to the whole area, again and again, and it had found nothing. It knew the enemy now had cloaking as strong as it did, that there could actually be something in the system…but it still seemed a remote chance.
And besides, it would have picked up even one of its own ships, penetrating the stealth systems with the intensity of its scanning.
It knew it should maintain the highest standards of security at all times, and for the most part, it did. But it also realized that the attack against the enemy had likely begun…and that put more of a drain on its central processor. It wasn’t actual work…it didn’t have much of that to do waiting for the report. But still…it was distracted.
Its scanners were working constantly, of course, as they had been for over sixty years, ever since it had come to life…and realized it faced a human threat nearby. They produced nothing, no signs of the enemy, and the Regent decided to accept that. In a couple days, the battle would be over, the enemy would likely be destroyed, or at least badly battered. Then it would be truly safe.
Still, it sensed something…a small part of its vast array edgy, even as most of it was focused on waiting for a report from SP-01012. It ignored the concern at first, told itself that there was nothing out there. But it continued, despite its best efforts.
Finally, it gave in. It didn’t believe there were any enemy forces present, but it would increase its scanning anyway. It made sense, in a way, to maintain a state of maximum readiness. It didn’t have many ships left, only four…but it could launch those, have them prowl around the system blasting fully on their active scanners.
Yes, it would do that. It didn’t expect to find anything, imagined the chance of any enemy being present as so infinitesimal that its defied calculation. But there was no reason not to do it, no reason but hubris. And the Regent denied that it was effected in any way by that.
It gave the authorization, and it felt the ships powering up. It realized its action would make it detectable, for perhaps a minute, but it overruled that concern. In the vanishingly small chance there actually was any enemy present, it was almost certain they already knew about its presence. It had always known there was a chance the enemy would find it before it found them, and it was glad that its forces had prevailed, that they had found the enemy homeworld first. Even if there was a scout, or a few scouts, in the system…it was too late for the enemy to use the information. And anything more than a couple of scout ships would have been detected by its scans.
It sent the message to the system to open the launch doors, to send the ships out to inspect…and then it returned to its waiting, to its constant analysis and reanalysis of the operation currently underway.
The operation to destroy the enemy’s homeworld.
* * *
“I want to thank you all before we begin. I know many of you feel this mission is hopeless, even suicidal. I cannot directly argue against that assertion, but I do believe there is a way…a way that may even get some of us out of here.” Harmon wasn’t sure if he really believed that last part or not, but he did at least a fair job of saying it.
He looked up and down at the eight others present, the captains of the remaining ships. He knew they were experienced officers, most of them taking a fairly sharp cut in the level of their posting to join the mission. He also knew they had all volunteered, and that meant they were at least willing to die if need be. Whether they had already acknowledged that as inevitable was an open question…as were the attitudes of their crews. Everyone present was a volunteer, but Harmon knew such things sometimes didn’t endure the passage of time well.
“I have a plan, a way for our forces to penetrate the enemy position…to create a chance to succeed. It depends on many things, some of which we cannot control…or even know about beforehand. Not the least of these things is for all or most of the enemy’s forces to be deployed in the invasion of Earth-2. That only makes sense. The enemy has to know that we have at least a chance there, and its only response to that is to pour every ship it’s got into the attack. But we can’t know for certain…and I do not think I have to mention that if they have significant forces here, they will likely be able
to destroy us all…before we can do the same to them.”
He stopped for a moment, his eyes darting around the table, trying to read each officer’s expression. He knew his plan was desperate, that a hundred things could go wrong with it, but he was totally committed. The others, the officers present, and of course their subordinates, were all younger than him. They were all committed, brave and noble servants of Earth-2…but he was still concerned. His plan was beyond desperate, and he knew it would take everything they had. If they were willing to give it.
But he never got any farther.
“Sir…we’re picking up something on the planet’s surface.”
Harmon turned his head immediately to the comm device, even as the rest of his body froze. Had the enemy discovered them, was it even then launching enough ships to destroy them?
He flipped a switch, turning on the display in the conference room…and he watched. They all did, each of them no doubt feeling as Harmon did, wondering exactly what was happening.
What was about to happen.
The screen flicked around for a few seconds, but then it stopped, showing a section of the planet’s surface. Showing it open.
Harmon knew from the reports he’d received approximately where the Regent was located, or at least from where it had deployed forces. And this was close, very close to that. He saw images of vast fleets in his mind, emerging from the underground bunkers, closing on his small force. Destroying it.
He saw the first ship emerge. It was a cruiser, a light one, comparable to most of those in his fleet. Then another one. And another.
And then a larger vessel, a battlecruiser bigger than anything in his fleet. He had been hoping the enemy would only have a few vessels…but he had started to give up. A few more battlecruisers would overwhelm his fleet.