* * *
“You seemed preoccupied tonight,” said Jennifer, laying beside Sean in bed.
The Emperor looked over at his wife, her skin wet with the sweat of lovemaking. He loved her more each day, and enjoyed their lovemaking sessions as he had no other in his past. But yes, his mind hadn't been on the here and new. A cardinal sin when joining with a love.
“I'm all but being accused of wanting to take over the galaxy,” he said, looking at his wife and wincing. She deserved his full attention at a time like this. Anything less was unfair to her.
“They can't seriously believe that?” said the Empress, a shocked expression coming over her face. “After all you have done for them. Giving them the tech to improve their fighting capabilities. Offering full access to the wormhole gate network.”
“Well, they have a legitimate concern,” he admitted, rolling over and placing a hand on her stomach. “While we may not conquer, we will be the only superpower in this region of the Galaxy. We will make policy for everyone by our actions. And there's nothing I can do about that.”
Jennifer sighed as he continued to caress her. “Don't start something you can't finish.”
“Oh, I think I can finish,” he said, his thoughts turning to her and her alone.
Chapter Six
The great questions of the day will not be settled by means of speeches and majority decisions but by iron and blood. Otto von Bismarck
JUNE 21ST, 1004. CAPITULUM: JEWEL.
Sean yawned into a hand as Sondra McCullom walked to the front of the room. The meetings were continuing, and most everyone had rested well the night before. Sean hadn't, but the memory of why brought a smile to his face. Jennifer might be prim and proper in the public eyes, but in the bedroom she was a wildcat.
“Thank you for your attention, Ladies and Gentlemen,” said Sondra, stepping behind the podium. She reached into the podium to press a button and the room's central holo sprung to life, showing a star field. “I would like to remind everyone that what we are about to discuss is top secret. Of course, you can share within your own governments, but I caution discretion.”
Sean nodded as she said the last. He had made it a point to emphasize to her that these were heads of state, and not subject to the laws of the Empire. Hence the last statement.
“The Ca'cadasans have started engaging in new behaviors along the main front. Troublesome behaviors.”
The holo switched views, showing the tactical plot of a system, the icons of ships highlighted on the outer perimeter.
“You, of course, know about the ambushes they have sprung with their new fast attack craft. Those are continuing, with added twists and turns. They are better hidden, more patient, but with our own change in tactics they are only hitting our scouts ships. We have been destroying them for the loss of some few scouts, not a favorable exchange for them, though it is still slowing our advance.”
Favorable, unless you happen to be the crews of those destroyers, thought Sean. Still, it was better to lose destroyers than capital ships, both in terms of tonnage and crew lives.
“Now they are hitting us outside the systems. We can't find their ships until they strike. Intelligence believes they are erecting wormhole gates, bringing their forces into the normal space, and striking at the logistics train sitting outside the system. They bring through twenty of their battleships, forty cruisers and eighty scouts, their normal proportion. As soon as they are through and gathered they boost at a low rate, right at the logistics train and its escorts. The gate boosts along with them. Within five minutes the ships launch a full volley, thousands of missiles, right at the most helpless targets in the system. A second volley thirty seconds later.”
The icons of the enemy ships appeared on the plot. Moments later the icons of thousands of missiles appeared, on a vector toward the allied ships sitting motionless in space. A moment later the icons of the enemy ships started to disappear, headed back through their gate. The gate was boosting along ahead of them, allowing them to transit with little change of vector. The gate disappeared moments later as it stopped boosting.
“At this point they collapse their gate, hiding it. It remains on the outskirts of the system, where it can be expanded for future operations. Meanwhile, their missiles continue in, while the target ships started boosting in all directions, trying to get off the bullseye. The escorts did what they were supposed to do, moving into position to intercept the missiles.”
The missile icons also started changing vectors, going onto headings that would intersect all of the ships.
“This is where the second part of the ambush is triggered, and the mines they had left in space, ahead of the fleeing ships, open up.”
More icons appeared, right ahead of the logistics ships, heading in at twenty thousand gravities. The icons of logistics ships, freighters, tankers and colliers disappeared. What the plot didn't show was the terror of those crews as they realized they were about to be hit. Or the expanding clouds of plasma that the vessels became.
“In this battle the Cacas killed over thirty logistic ships, along with eleven destroyers. For the cost of several thousand missiles. None of their ships were lost. No Cacas killed. It was a minor but complete victory for them.”
“Have we adjusted our own tactics?” asked Hssrat, raising a hand into the air.
“Of course, my Lord,” said Sondra. “We are leaving more ships outside the system to guard the noncombatants. Which mean fewer ships going into the system, opening us up to attacks from the forces they have now hidden there.”
Sondra changed the view on the holo, this time showing a battle that didn't go the Caca's way. Again the ships came through, but this time a wave of destroyers and cruisers, along with a couple of battleships, hit them as soon as they emerged, while other ships detonated the mines before they could engage.
“Using our new sensor suites, as well as many sensor drones, we have been able to pinpoint them before they can deploy, and hit them. Since they are learning that they can no longer deploy closely, we expect them to shift tactics. Possibly come in further from the force, beyond the range of the sensors. Or possibly jump into hyper, rush in, and launch missiles that come down into normal space. Whatever it is, we expect their Emperor will come up with something that will force us to again change out deployments.”
“Any other new missile defenses in the works?” asked Lord Grarakakak, raising a graceful hand.
“Why, yes, High Lord,” said Sondra with a smile, and Sean had to wonder if she had planted that question with Grarakakak. “Admiral Chan's team has come up with a system of decoys, small drones we can employ in mass to lured the enemy missiles away from their real targets. Unfortunately, we need them in large numbers, and they take up magazine space in our ships. So far we are only deploying them forward in logistics ships, but we are working on the problem.”
“Their ambush deployment is very unusual behavior for them,” said President Klanarat, changing the subject back to the original topic. “I expect we will be seeing the same over on our side of their Empire. Is this the doing of their new Emperor?”
“We believe so,” said McCullom, nodding toward the Klavarta president. “While we have seen the Cacas come up with changes to make our lives difficult, we have never seen such tactical flexibility.”
“What is this buying them?” asked Czar Baryshnikov. “I mean, sure, they are costing us some ships. But there is nothing they can do to stop our advance.”
“True,” said Sean, jumping into the conversation before anyone could attack the Czar. His kingdom actually had no ships with the fleet. New Moscow was too busy trying to rebuild without the necessary bodies to run the robots. The Emperor thought they would try to contribute in the future, but he was willing to cut them some slack. The others might not. “What they are accomplishing is a slowing down of our forces. Allowing them more time to prepare defenses ahead of us.”
“If that is their plan, then we would do well to ignore our losses and
forge ahead,” said Hssrat, nostrils flaring. “I know that everyone here wants to conserve the lives of their people, but sometimes lives must be spent for victory.”
“That might be easier in your government, Lord Hssrat,” said Lord Grarakakak, turning his head to stare at the Crakista. “My people question our losses, and wonder why we are even involved in a fight outside our borders.”
“Then your people are fools,” said the Crakista leader. “We all know what these Ca'cadasans will do if they reach our borders.”
Sean smiled, wanting to thank the Crakista leader. The other day the two alien leaders had seemed to agree on everything concerning the human menace. Not they were at odds, and no longer presenting a united front.
“My Lords,” shouted Sean as Grarakakak opened his mouth to reply to the Crakista. “We aren't here to argue the relative faults and merits of our respective peoples. God knows that I have enough stubborn fools among my own subjects. The point is, the Cacas know that we care about our people, and they are trying to make this as bloody and painful as possible.”
“Why?” asked Grarakakak. “They must realize that they have no hope of winning this thing.”
“Ekaterina,” said Sean, looking back at his intelligence chief. “Can you give us some input into this. What might their new Emperor be thinking?”
“Your Majesty,” said Sergiov, getting to her feet. “We only have hearsay and conjecture, since we have lost all of our contacts within their command structure. What I can say, from the buzz around the periphery of their nation, is that Mrastaran is considered a very intelligent and thoughtful male. Much too cerebral to be a warrior. Not as stupidly violent as most of the species, he rose to his military rank by playing on the mental weaknesses of his fellows. And he is a voracious reader. Sociology, psychology, history.”
“And he has a complete collection of human history,” chimed in Baryshnikov. “Taken from our libraries.”
It all came together in an instant in Sean's agile mind. Once all the pieces were in place, it was so logical.
“He's planning to sucker us into the immensity of his empire, bleeding us the entire way,” said Sean, eyes narrowing as he looked into the image of the Ca'cadasan Emperor. “He'll hit us with ambushes, then some major battles along the way, until he sets us up for the decisive battle.”
“Do you believe he thinks he's going to win?” asked an incredulous Lord Grarakakak.
“He believes he doesn't have to,” said Sean, shaking his head. “He only has to shed enough of our blood that we will beg for a negotiated settlement.”
And he's going to try and split the alliance, though the Emperor. He was sure the human allies would be in this for the long haul. Elysium and Crakista were already feeling war weary. They would jump at a chance for a settlement, and would probably pull their forces from the alliance if Sean didn't go to the negotiating table.
We can't allow them to negotiate. To get out of their total defeat. That would lead to total disaster. The Cacas would be able to stretch those talks out, allowing them time to rebuild. And if they came out with a peace treaty they would be given a new lease on life. Ten years from now they could again be rolling over the borders. If they could copy enough alliance tech they could possibly win.
“Victory is in sight for us,” said the Emperor, standing up and turning so he could face everyone in the chamber. “We can't afford to let this bastard play us. We can win this thing, and the Cacas will never threaten us again.”
“And who will rise to prominence in their place?” asked Hssrat, rising from his own seat. “Will we be trading one potential master for another.”
Arguments started to break out around the room. Sean sat back in his seat and stared into the air. This conference had been meant to bring the members of the alliance closer together. Instead, it was proving to have the opposite effect. Face to face meetings were driving a wedge between the leaders of the alliance. He thought it would be a grave error for the alien powers to jump ship before this thing was done. The human powers would continue the fight, with or without Elysium or Crakista. They could still win, though it would be a steeper slope to climb, with many more human casualties.
Unfortunately for the alliance, the alien powers had yet to experience action against the Cacas in their home systems. New Moscow and the New Terran Republic had suffered occupation and mass executions. The Empire and New Earth had suffered from direct action on their territory. All Elysium had in that regard was the one small incursion that had taken their wormhole gate into the Empire, allowing the Cacas to assault the Donut. Crakista didn't even have that much of a stake. Their triggering incident had occurred outside their borders, essentially.
And now the alien powers were already looking ahead to a Perseus arm under the domination of the humans. Sean could argue against that opinion all he wanted, and it would do nothing to change the view point of others.
The Emperor wasn't sure what to do as voices were raised in anger around him. Call the conference off? Get up and walk from the room? Argue against the proposition that he was attempting to take over the galaxy? Or sit in silence and let the members of the alliance work through their emotions.
An hour later he was still sitting in silence while several arguments became physical. An hour later the Elysium and Crakista representatives had left the planet, through the wormhole net back to their home worlds.
The next day the human representatives met again. The only positive note was, even though missing, the alien members hadn't withdrawn from the alliance, yet.
* * *
JUNE 25TH, 1004. CENTRAL FRONT.
Admiral Lord Krakabas looked at a plot that showed the same thing it had the day before. A whole lot of nothing. Not that there weren't objects on the plot. A star, almost a dozen planets, many moons, tens of thousands of significantly large asteroids. And ships. Oh yes, several thousand of those, many hundreds of them the vessels of his force.
Krakabas was unusual for the Brakakak in that he craved excitement. It was his reason for being, the whole purpose of rising through the ranks of the Elysium navy. He and his had fought several small actions against an outnumbered and outclassed enemy since arriving at the front. But he wanted more. He had never heard the human saying, be careful what you wish for.
His force, seventy-two battleships, one hundred and ninety-three cruisers, three hundred and thirty-one destroyers, along with numerous support ships, was integrated into Mgonda's fleet. They were on the right flank, open to space, along with an equal number of New Terran Empire vessels. Other Elysium forces were serving alongside the remaining units of Mgonda's force, in smaller proportions to the humans. Another Elysium fleet was attached to Lenkowski's force, while the Crakista made up a slight majority of the forces of the New Terran Republic, on the far left flank.
“We're receiving tasking orders, my Lord,” called out his com officer.
“About time,” croaked the admiral, looking over at the flag com station. “We've been sitting here for over a week.” The admiral gave a head nod toward the com officer, indicating he was ready for the message.
The words appeared on a side screen near the admiral, flowing in the cuneiform script of his kind. He let out a sharp chirp as the orders registered, disappointment again coming to the fore in his thoughts.
Another flank guard, he thought in disgust. All his force had been doing so far on this campaign. Making sure that non-existent Ca'cadasan forces didn't threaten the ships that were actually battling the enemy.
Damn High Lord Grarakakak, he thought, picturing the leader of his people in his mind. The admiral was sure that the high lord had worked a deal with the humans to not put his ships at undo risk. Why send ships to war it they weren't to fight? Why...
“We have missile launch,” yelled out the duty tactical officer, a Knockerman rating. “Five, no ten thousand missiles. Range, one point one light minute. Acceleration, twenty thousand gravities.”
“Do you have a fix on the launch
ing vessels?”
“No, my Lord. The missiles just appeared on the plot.”
“Eta?” His tactical officer would have known to include that in the initial report. The substitute?
“Er, give me a second, my Lord.”
Krakabas motioned for his com officer to attend to him. “Order all destroyers and cruisers to get into position to intersect those weapons. All ships are to start cycling counters.”
A glance at the plot showed that most of his ships were already firing, not waiting for his orders. Not exactly by the book, but he wasn't about to complain. He also noticed that most of the destroyers and cruisers would not be able to get into position. Not their fault, since they had been in a standard globular deployment.
I should have stationed the pickets further out, he thought, watching as icons crawled across the plot.
“ETA, three minutes, fourteen seconds,” reported the tactical tech. His deep voice rose. “We have another launch, my Lord. Ten thousand missiles.”
Where in the hell are they coming from? thought the Brakakak lord. What the hell is launching them?
“ETA, two minutes, fifty-two seconds.”
The regular tactical officer came running onto the bridge, without armor, hurrying to take his station. The admiral remembered that no one on the flag bridge was in battle armor, having been caught off-guard.
“Half the crew is to get into armor, followed by the other half.” He wasn't sure if everyone would get prepared in time, or if it would do any good whatsoever.
“ETA, two minutes and twenty-one seconds.”
Counters were closing on the first wave. Not enough to take them all out, or even most of them. And the screening vessels were still mostly out of place to intercept.
* * *
Sub-captain Llrastat grinned in triumph as he watched the ambush he had set driving into the enemy force. The mines, copies of those used by the humans, had been placed perfectly, in two ranks to release the two waves. And the victims, the avian allies of the humans, were the perfect target. Not just because they were unprepared, but because hitting them could drive a possible wedge between the allies.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 17: The Rebirth Page 7