“But Grand Admiral, he shall be able to focus his strength on any part of our formations he chooses, thereby gaining an advantage in firepower. We shall not win such engagements.” Khandar argued.
“I disagree,” Grand Admiral Koor cut him off. “That is enough debate. I agree to modify the deployment of our allies. That should satisfy your need for input Admiral. I shall send the necessary orders to our allies. I hold this meeting adjourned.”
As the Grand Admiral turned to leave the room a dull concussion shook the ship. Every member looked up in surprise, but before anyone could say a word a strident voice came over the intercom explaining, “Grand Admiral, the fleet has come under attack!”
Grand Admiral Koor stood in amazement, but under the harsh glance of Khandar she finally stammered, “By the Terrans? Impossible! How many ships?”
There was a short pause and then a distant rumble from another concussion. Finally the bridge reported, “It is the Terrans, Grand Admiral, but we have only one ship on our screens.”
“One ship!” Koor roared, punching up the bridge battle display. In the center of the conference table the Golkos and Seer’koh watched a representation of their fleets bloom. Both formations were motionless and intact, but between them sped the tiny dark tube that was the Gagarin, spewing torpedoes and mines which flowered in multi-colored flame throughout the two fleets. The Grand Admiral was livid.
“The audacity! Destroy it!”
“No! Don’t you see they’re in the crossfire of our fleets! It is only a scout, jam his transmissions and pursue him when he’s clear of the formation!” Admiral Khandar argued emphatically, but the order was given and Koor refused to countermand it. In a moment the two fleets awoke with wild volleys of fire aimed at the speeding scout. The projectors and torpedoes, hampered by the enormity of the Gagarin’s speed, scattered around the small ship without effect, instead burning into the unshielded flanks of the Alliance formation. Within moments distress calls resounded across the ethernet. In five minutes the scout was gone, with nothing but a few scorch marks on her hull, and the sounds of stricken Alliance vessels in her wake. Before she disappeared from Alliance screens the Golkos and the Seer’koh heard one other thing over the ethernet they did not expect and did not want to admit: the derisive sound of laughter fading off into space.
CHAPTER 8
The Hrang spy looked absolutely Terran; he even moved like a Terra as he took a seat in the deep leather chair preferred by Crandal. The implant-modified nose curled up at the acrid smell of the smoke, but the pipe smoker merely shrugged. With a very Terran sigh the Hrang told the man, “You’ve put yourself in a very untenable position in the minds of my colleagues. We are not quite certain that we want any involvement in an assassination attempt on Alexander. The Chem couldn’t accomplish it. I don’t see any particular reason why you or your associates should be any more successful. If you fail then we open ourselves up to Alexander’s wrath. He was not so merciful with Bureel of Chem. Considering he already has two thousand Hrang in custody I am not certain that I want to put my people or our allies in a more precarious position.”
“Your concern is understandable, if a bit late. You already have Alexander nipping at your heels. Even as you mass your fleets he is countering you. Don’t look so surprised my friend, your movements are common knowledge to us; I’m certain Alexander’s information is much more detailed and up to date than ours. You are rather careless and sloppy, to be perfectly honest. It is somewhat difficult for me to believe your civilization is as advanced as it is considering the clumsiness with which your Alliance wages war.”
“We will not appear so sloppy, as you call it, when Terra is surrounded by vast numbers of warships,” the Hrang told him pointedly. “No adversary in the history of Galactic warfare has ever prevailed with as great a numerical disadvantage as the Terrans now face.”
“Then why are you here talking to me? If you are as confident as you seem then there is no reason for the risk you are taking just to see me. Go ahead then and fight your war. Beat Alexander and dictate your terms to him.” The Hrang was silent. The threat was not a hollow one and he knew it. After a few leisurely puffs at his pipe, the man continued. “The truth is, you’re scared to death of him. He manhandled, excuse the expression, the Chem and now you’re next. Numbers don’t mean anything to Alexander, power does. Alexander knows his destiny as well as you do, and he does not mean to leave it unfulfilled. The fact that you have more ships than he does is a small inconvenience to him. It just means he has to think harder about defeating you. That’s alright though, because he enjoys the challenge. Isn’t that what your analysts are telling you? Now, since I assume you agree in general with my observation, as I don’t see you leaving, let’s get down to business. We will take care of Alexander for you. With that accomplished we deprive the body of the snake from its cognitive as well as spiritual head.”
“You are quite certain Terran aggression will die with Alexander?”
“Alexander is the heart and soul of this mad scheme of galactic conquest. Without him there will be a scramble for Terran security. When the Alliance offers terms for peace, which will ensure Terran security with a minimum of territorial loss, the transitional government will accept.”
“How can you be so certain that your government will accede, especially if the Alliance claims territory as part of the arrangement?”
“In a barter some demands are expected, territory, prisoner exchange, etc.” Crandal told the Hrang, and then waved his hand as if to purge the issue from his mind. “Never mind that, however, your negotiators will have no problems because they shall deal through me. Your ambassadors shall request that any and all negotiations be channeled through myself. How so? It is simple. In this case the truth works much better than any lie. I was chief of the Terran council which the Scythians dealt with Earth forty years ago. That will come as a small sensation, but it is accurate enough to get my colleagues and I what we want. From that position we will be able to dictate policy once again. That is our angle to this situation. Your angle is, of course, that you will be dealing with a known quantity that has your best interests in mind.”
“Your offer is intriguing,” the Hrang admitted, but with the caveat that he would still have to sell the plan to the Alliance council. “That difficulty, however, may be overcome with certain assurances. I could guarantee a positive vote in the council with pre-conditions.”
“Which would be what?”
“The return of the Hrang prisoners; territorial concessions; and a reduction in the Terran fleets,” the Hrang told him. The alien did not note any sign of affirmation or negation on the Terran’s part, so he explained his reasoning. “The return of the prisoners will give me the Hrang vote. The Golkos will be looking to expand into the frontiers of Terra, and they would not be disappointed to absorb part of the ancient Scythian empire in the process, so territory gains their vote. A Terran fleet reduction to a system defense force for the Terran Homeworld-say about two hundred and fifty ships-should satisfy the Seer’koh, the Syraptose and the Quotterim. That would allow me to convince the major players of the Alliance that we can deal with you. In return we can supply you with information and technology which will increase your chances of success.”
“And the assurance you shall deal with Terra through me,” the man added.
“That assurance as well,” the Hrang replied.
“I do not foresee any problem concerning your pre-conditions,” the man told the Hrang, “that is, unless Alexander executes the Hrang spies. That is an event I have no control over.”
“You had better hope that he does not do so,” the Hrang answered
After the Terran nodded his agreement the alien rose from the chair. The man did likewise. “I shall contact my superiors,” the alien said. “They shall press the issue, but I doubt whether we shall have an answer in anything less than two of your days. Until that time I urge you to make no attempt on Alexander’s life. I can guarantee nothing if
you proceed before you have our full support.”
“Understood,” the man said, taking a deep drag through his pipe. When he spoke again it was with the wry grimace that his colleagues found so disquieting. He took out his pipe and pointed the stalk at the Hrang, saying, “Now you understand me: don’t even think of trying to double cross me on this. I’ll make it a point to keep your Hrang friends until I’m safely entrenched here. On the first hint of trouble I carry out the execution Alexander has hesitated over. Is that understood?”
“Perfectly,” the Hrang smiled. “I think I can convince my associates in the profit of this without any cause for alarm. Beyond the concessions we may gain it is certainly more to our advantage to deal with a being as predictable as yourself instead of the cunning Alexander. Good day.” The Hrang inclined his Terran head with a irritating ghost of a smile and left the room.
The man with the pipe watched the alien go, and then quietly laughed; fully aware he’d been slighted. He took a long drag and slowly wreathed himself in smoke, muttering, “Son of a bitch, you’re more Terran than I thought!”
CHAPTER 9
Admiral Augesburcke was terse in his report. “The Gagarin, a Terran submarine, has discovered and engaged the Golkos-Seer’koh fleet only one point seven five parsecs from the Terran-Golkos frontier. That is roughly thirty-seven parsecs from Terra, and two parsecs from the balance of the Seventh Fleet.” Admiral Augesburcke briefed Alexander in a secure conference room set up on the first floor of the float house. The space was limited so there were only Alexander, Nazeera and Admiral Augesburcke present. On the other end was Admiral Halston who was in Command of the Seventh Fleet task force on the Golkos frontier.
“A sub engaged their fleet?” Alexander exclaimed, voicing the first impression of all of them.
“So it appears,” Augesburcke admitted. “I’d hazard to say that this man’s got more balls than brains, but as he made it through he’s got enough luck to shut me up.”
“I like this Captain already. Did they have a Scythian on board?”
Augesburcke shook his head. “No just the normal ethernet. The constant comlink was pretty broken up with jamming halfway through their sensor sweep, but as the Gagarin completed its run intact and then wisely withdrew we have the entire tape intact.”
“Let’s see it,” Alexander said. Without wait Augesburcke played the entire tape of the Gagarin’s encounter with the Golkos-Seer’koh fleets. When it was complete Alexander crossed his arms and whistled. “Decorate that Captain and give that ship a pennant, Admiral, and take note: that is how wars are won. Now, give me your thoughts.”
“Not much has changed, Alexander, strategically speaking,” Augesburcke said. He punched a button and a small hologram appeared over the center of the desk. The Terran Empire was in the center, and Alliance Fleets were gathering in three distinct regions about it. Augesburcke pointed them out. “As discovered by Captain Konstantinov the Golkos-Seer’koh Fleets are already in position and waiting for the Syraptose and the Bael-Quotterim to form on their fronts. The latter are still massing, albeit lethargically. I would guess they are still a week from being in position and ready for their push. We have a great deal of specific information on numbers, positions, ships names, everything a commander would ever need to know. It’s damn suspicious that we’ve accrued all of this data simply by listening. I cannot imagine commanders worth their salt allowing such blatant use of the ethernet as we’ve noted. But as we can see from Captain Konstantinov’s scan the two sets of data are almost identical.”
“What has me wondering is what they’re doing just sitting there waiting,” Admiral Halston observed. “They’re so far ahead of their flanks I’d say they’re just asking to be attacked.”
“They expect to meet you in open battle, Admiral,” Nazeera told them. “You have to understand how their commanders are thinking and realize they are making the same mistakes that the Chem made in the opening stages of our civil war. Terrans, gentlemen, are used to war. From what I understand, you’ve had constant warfare on your planet for ten kicellia. The rest of the civilized galaxy has been at peace for that time and longer. Tradition gives way only grudgingly to reality, and in war the quicker to adapt usually wins. What the Golkos-Seer’koh fleets are doing, gentlemen, is twofold: one, waiting for their flanks to mass into attack position; and two: waiting for a Terran fleet to stand to and agree to engage them in battle. Recall when I, myself, halted my Armada before your fleet and engaged in the per functionary trade of dialogue prior to battle. That is tradition. It was not long, however, in our own civil war before such traditions were cast aside for the type of engagements Alexander showed himself used to.”
The Admirals each allowed their brows to rise, but Alexander corrected them. “Do you so quickly forget your Napoleonic code Admirals? We did the very same thing two hundred years past. It’s only twentieth century warfare that has largely done away with the pre-fight ritual. That does not mean I wish to revive it, but gentlemen, we have the Golkos-Seer’koh fleet floating in space waiting for us. I don’t wish to disappoint them, or to miss the tactical opportunity presented to us.”
“I understand your obvious desire to attack, Alexander, and normally that would be the sound solution,” Admiral Halston chimed in over the ethernet, “but we do not have an attacking force available. Although we’ve beefed up the Seventh Fleet to almost six hundred ships over the last two months a third are the tankers we’ve modified into “fireships.” Although this force is positioned on the frontier it is wholly undermanned for an attack force, and we’ve no other reserves.”
“I’m not sure we can pass this up,” Admiral Augesburcke said. “We can’t just let them sit there. It is a tantalizing opportunity, and I say we need to take advantage of it.”
Alexander nodded, but he wanted more data. “What was the result of Captain Konstantinov’s attack on the enemy fleet?
“I would estimate at least thirty enemy vessels damaged or disabled by either the Gagarin or their own crossfire.”
“Play the tape again,” Alexander ordered. Augesburcke did so, and as he did Alexander opened his thoughts in a running commentary. “This is what I see when I watch the tape. One Terran ship pops out of superluminal and what happens? The Alliance fleet panics. Listen to the enormous jumble of radio calls. Every ship steps on the communications of every other ship. I defy any coherent set of orders to get through that. Notice the undisciplined fire, crossfire, haphazard fire. Jamming is non-existent until the Gagarin is nearly three quarters of the way through her run. Then she’s gone. Where is the pursuit? Now, show me the positions of the enemy ships before the Gagarin’s run, and after. Now change back and forth between the two. Do you see the movement? In the space of five minutes one attacking ship has disrupted the formation of two thousand vessels, minutely to be certain, but noticeably. This tells me several things: they are prone to over-react, even to panic, in the face of unexpected and aggressive tactics. Their discipline is, at this point, lacking under fire. They are lacking in tactical foresight or flexibility. Those are the conditions I see now, but they will change. Before they do, however, we must act. We must attack the Golkos-Seer’koh fleets immediately.”
“But our force will be overwhelmed,” Halston objected.
“Not if we use the Seventh Fleet in concert with the fireships,” Alexander countered.
“I’m guessing their getting strict orders right now,” Augesburcke said. “The Alliance Captains are being told to maintain formation and discipline of fire at all costs—the consequences will be severe.”
“That should make our fireships much more effective,” Halston nodded.
“Exactly,” Alexander smiled.
“Excuse me, but what are these fireships you are referring to,” Nazeera asked.
Alexander nodded, saying, “It might be good to review the concept for us all, not just the Elder of Chem.”
Augesburcke punched up a command and the image of a three masted warship appeared
, circa the seventeenth century. “This, Elder, is a wind propelled wooden ship used in our ancient naval warfare. As you can imagine they were very susceptible to fire. Precautions were taken, of course, so that any normal conflagration could be controlled. The danger was still there, however, and this weakness was exploited on numerous occasions for both offensive and defensive purposes. The fireship itself was simply a warship or merchantman stripped of all useful equipment and loaded with flammable material. It normally carried canvas that was raised by a skeleton crew, and guided as near as possible to the target ships, which were usually anchored or becalmed. At the latest possible moment the ship was fired,” the image of the ship was now animated, following the Admiral’s direction with sparkling realism. “The skeleton crew abandoned the ship and allowed it to ram the target vessels. The heat generated by the fireship normally resulted in every ship in close proximity catching fire. The outcome, with very little risk and loss of material, is obviously an advantageous one; assuming the wind did not change.
“What we’ve done, is to convert our fleet of tankers into modern fireships. We’ve outfitted a simple triggering mechanism which will overload the matter-anti-matter engines. A magnetic projector will focus the resultant energy in a single, though somewhat dispersed, beam. This beam can be projected at a single target. It’s a one shot self destruct system, but it carries a power one hundredfold over that of our largest blaster projector. What it hits it kills, and against massed ships it’s bound to cause collateral damage.”
“You can honor your own Admiral Xora, my dear, for the inspiration. I studied your history during my time aboard the Kuntok. I remembered the intrepid Admiral’s brilliant self destruct order. When surrounded by her adversaries and facing the prospect of being boarded and captured she ordered the Jun-Toor to self destruct by overloading her mains. A pragmatic method of destruction certainly, but Xora was not satisfied to simply deny her enemies her vessel. Rather she had each blaster projector channel opened so that the initial rush of the energy wave was actually focused through the projectors. The Jun-Toor destroyed one of her adversaries and severely damaged two more making it a very costly victory for her enemies. When I ran across that bit of history I couldn’t help but think how I could use it to my advantage.”
Alexander Galaxus: The Complete Alexander Galaxus Trilogy Page 61