Torchship Captain

by Karl K Gallagher

  “Good. Keep firing, we’re not saving ammo for anything.”

  Bowie cursed as his displays went to snow. “System infiltration!” He pried open the console and started cutting wires.

  Halgai shoved her screens aside. “Sparks, pass the word to go to manual on all systems.”

  A deafening impact shook the ship. Everything shut down. A few red emergency lights turned on, their systems independent of the rest of the ship. Echoing whistles told of air leaks to aft.

  Some of the bridge crew sealed their helmets. Halgai waited. There was still good air in here, and she had a duty to look calm.

  The Damage Control Officer had some low-tech handcomms as backup. He finished his conversation and reported, “Ma’am, looks like they put a big hit through the converter room. Everything aft of bulkhead 732 is gone.”

  “Thank you.”

  “We’re a sitting target. Why haven’t they finished us?” asked Bowie.

  “Possibly they want us intact,” answered Halgai. “Runner, my compliments to the Master At Arms and he’s to distribute the arms locker to the crew. Save a grenade launcher for me.”

  The spacer saluted and dived through the hatch.

  Sparks said, “If they want us alive, maybe . . . we should try to deprive them?”

  Halgai had already had a similar thought. Smashing the converter made it impossible to destroy the ship. But her attitude was different. “If anyone wants to go out the airlock, I won’t stop you. But I intend to make the bastards work for it.”

  PHS Kongbu, Yalu System, acceleration 10 m/s2

  Guo looked around the battleship’s flag deck. It had enough staff to coordinate every ship the Fusion ever built. With only the Harmony’s small force to look after they were planning exact maneuvers for every ship. He could see a simulation checking the plan for passing through the next gate at minimum spacing.

  Exactly the sort of information a spy would want to report to his masters. Guo would report it if he could reach a master, mistress, or anyone not part of the Harmony. But he was completely isolated.

  Driving home that helplessness was likely one of Ping’s motives for bringing Guo to the meeting. Seeing how the naval officers reacted to him convinced Guo the other motive was to emphasize the importance of politics and diplomacy over firepower.

  The meeting was completely political.

  Admiral Chang presided. He was acting as fleet commander as well as Minster of War.

  Daifu Ping deferred to Chang in all formal interactions but found ways to disrupt the meeting’s agenda. The update on the CPS’s approaching fleet had been interrupted twice by tangents.

  The poor Intelligence officer finally wrapped up her briefing with, “No Disconnect ships other than a few merchants have been sighted by our scouts. Also, a rumor is being passed about that the Combined Fleet is retreating from a Betrayer counterattack. We assess this as deliberate disinformation, intended to provide grounds for demanding a cease fire.”

  “That’s reminiscent of your argument for your treaty, Mr. Ambassador,” said Ping. “Did you leave instructions for the Committee for Public Safety to back you up with false news?”

  Guo’s guard would stop him from initiating conversations, but he was allowed to answer questions. “No. I intended to win you over with the benefits of cooperation. As for the Combined Fleet, it may be forced to retreat for lack of the reinforcements it needs. The ships you are destroying in this futile civil war.”

  “Goodness.” Ping turned back to the briefer. “Could it be a real retreat?”

  “We assess that at ten percent. The only hard data in the rumor is video of some container ships and other logistics vessels supposedly jumping into the Sukhoi system. Our second and third most likely explanations are merchant traffic being misinterpreted or a Combined Fleet logistics element sent back to pick up supplies.”

  Guo said, “A retreat would send the most vulnerable ships back first.”

  The briefer shook her head. “Fusion and Disconnect naval doctrine both insist that support elements should only enter a system preceded by proportionate combat escorts.”

  “Disconnect commanders are not famous for adhering to doctrine.”

  “Thank you for your insights, Ambassador Kwan,” said Admiral Chang. “If the Betrayer attack is real, we shall respond by organizing humanity under a common authority so we can fight back as one. This is also our plan for if they are not attacking.” He waved at the Logistics officer to begin.

  FNS Dread, Dirac System, acceleration 10 m/s2

  Mitchie considered Dread’s Executive Conference Room a birdcage. A gilded one. With sinfully comfortable armchairs around the table. But still the cage Admiral Bachak kept his political supervisors in.

  Across the table from her Guen Claret and Wayne Searcher discussed some news from Pintoy. Kimmie Z had proposed loosening food rationing in the cities. A dozen flunkies nattered about trivia around the rest of the table.

  Admiral Bachak came in, closing the sound-proof door behind him. “Chairwoman Claret. Committeeman Searcher. Commander Long. Thank you for joining me.”

  In this room Bachak treated her as a mid-grade liaison from an allied power. Which Mitchie was, and wanted to be officially. But outside he treated her as his boss with all apparent sincerity. The switch worried her. If Bachak could fake that, what else was he getting past her?

  “We’ve had our first engagement with Harmony forces,” continued the admiral. “Two light cruisers were destroyed as they tried to exit the Danu System gate. With your permission, I intend to award our squadron commander the Wreath of Virtue. Posthumously.”

  “How many did we lose?” asked Mitchie.

  “Five destroyers out of the eight engaged.”

  “How many people?” asked Guen.

  Bachak hesitated. “Over a hundred dead. Search and rescue is ongoing.”

  Wayne Searcher reached for Guen’s hand, then pulled back, as if he’d wanted to give her a comforting caress then thought better of it. Mitchie wondered if he was shy.

  “Losing five ships to destroy two may seem like a loss,” continued the admiral, “but I’ll point out the Harmony lost three times as much tonnage in this engagement, and twice as many crew. Strategically we kept them from delivering their reconnaissance reports. Future Harmony scouts will have to be more cautious.”

  Mitchie slid her datasheet under the table and snapped an image. Guen had her calf pressed against Wayne’s. Well, that didn’t take long.

  “The engagement is proof our forces are competent and aggressive. A key moment was the squadron controlling long-range missile fire from the main body to overwhelm the Harmony defenses. We never had a chance to do a live-fire exercise of that. The execution was outstanding.”

  As indignant as Mitchie felt on his behalf, Guo would probably be relieved that Guen had found a new partner. Mitchie’s concern was political. Wayne Searcher was a reliable supporter of Guen and her technocratic policies. He’d never expressed an opinion of the Disconnected Worlds. Mitchie would have to become better friends to make sure he was willing to let them live in peace.

  “My staff is preparing an all-hands announcement focusing on the magnitude of the victory. Ms. Claret, I’d appreciate it if you could record a statement to be included.”

  Guen nodded.

  “Separately, an after action report will be sent out for the eyes of only COs, XOs, and tactical officers. We’ll have simulations of alternate tactics that could have been used. Some with worse results, a couple that could have halved our casualties.”

  “Your alternate approach?” asked Mitchie.

  “Yes, mine is in there,” said Bachak. “And the simulation said I would have only lost two ships. But I’m a War College graduate. The late Commander Freeman was not. We’re sending this out to try to give them some of the education we don’t have two years to give them.”

  BDS Patton, Sukhoi System, acceleration 10 m/s2

  Admiral Galen looked over the list of t
ransfers Deng set in front of him. Sending ships through a gate at minimum separation meant a larger dispersion when they arrived in the new system. The Combined Fleet was becoming so jumbled it was easier to organize new squadrons than reunite the ships which had gone through the gate together.

  “We’re getting a lot of mixed units here,” said Galen.

  Deng shrugged. “Mixing destroyers and heavy cruisers isn’t a problem in transit. When we decide to fight we’ll have to reorganize again.”

  “With no time for squadrons to practice maneuvering together.” Galen marked the list ‘approved.’

  “If it’s any comfort, I’ve made sure all the mixed Fuzie-Disker squadrons are majority Disker.”

  “Good. Last thing we need is some ships being held hostage.”

  A commotion at the Tactical console drew the attention of both officers. The commander on watch was chastising the sensor ratings. “One or two being missed I can understand. But five? Get your act together.”

  Galen strolled over. “Trouble, Commander Leith?”

  “No, sir. Just spacers being tired.”

  “What did they miss?”

  “The first Betrayers have jumped in from Atafu. We didn’t pick them up until there were six.”

  “Slower than usual,” agreed the admiral. “Do I need to find you some more ratings?”

  Leith chuckled. “If there’s anybody not already exhausted, sure.”

  Six more dots appeared in the Tactical display.

  “Heinz, did you see that?” Leith said into his headset. After a brief discussion he turned to the admiral. “Seems I’ve been too harsh on my troops. The Betrayers may be jumping in and not lighting their torches until there’s a set number. We’re going to do some active scans of the arrival zone.”

  “Right, keep me posted.” Galen’s datasheet chimed with a comm request from Vice Admiral Bruix. Galen took it in his office.

  The Fusion admiral’s face appeared on the display. “Sir, I wish to clarify your intentions for holding this system.”

  This again. “I do not intend to hold this system. We are outnumbered and short on ammo. We will fall back until we meet up with other human forces and can fight on better terms.”

  Bruix’s flagship was two light-seconds away, enough to make the delay in conversation an irritation.

  “But this is an inhabited system. Sukhoi has a population of nearly a billion people! We can’t abandon them to the Betrayers.”

  “We can’t save them. We don’t have the firepower. We can only hope that the enemy pursues us instead of detaching enough ships to break the planetary defenses.”

  The delay gave Galen a chance to hope Bruix would not force the issue.

  “But we must try! At least let me detach my flotilla to protect the planet. You must help protect them, for your honor’s sake.”

  “It’s not my God-damned planet.” He bit down to keep insults from following. Calling Bruix ‘monkey boy’ wouldn’t improve the situation. “Any ships changing course for Sukhoi will be destroyed.”

  He tried to get his temper under control.

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “I’ve already issued the orders. All the Fusion ships not from Sukhoi will just watch.”

  Galen ground his teeth as he waited for Bruix’s response. The expression on the Fusion admiral’s face said he’d backed down before he started talking.

  “Fine. You can coerce us. But you don’t have a plan. You’re just chasing rumors of fleet movements.”

  “We are following the best leads we have to find reinforcements. Intelligence work is like that. As we get closer we’ll have better data.”

  Pause.

  “Assuming they haven’t blown each other to scrap in the civil war.”

  “Then the human race goes extinct. I’m very short on patience, Admiral Bruix. Don’t try me again.”

  Galen cut the connection.

  His office display defaulted to a meadow in Bonaventure’s Alps. Looking at it almost let him smell the edelweiss. He took deep breaths, trying to remember the scent.

  When his nerves had calmed Galen tackled the paperwork in his queue. Too many of them were disciplinary actions. Spacers were breaking under the strain of the long campaign.

  The request light on his door flashed green.

  “Enter.”

  It was Commander Leith.

  “Ah. Sorted out your sensor issues?”

  “Yes, sir. Um . . . the sensors are fine. The Betrayers are jumping into the system in groups of six.”

  That was impossible according to the theories taught to Galen in academy. “How?”

  “The boffins are working on it. The good news is they need double the time between each batch jumping. So they can only put three times the ships through a gate we can.”

  “Thank you, Commander.”

  Galen looked back at his paperwork. He’d hoped the Betrayers might get strung out enough for him to stage a successful ambush. Now finding more human ships was the only hope.

  FNS Dread, Danu System, acceleration 0 m/s2

  Mitchie glanced at the politicians to check if any of them had drifted loose while the battleship coasted through the gate. They all had a hand or foot through a restraining loop. One was hanging on with all four. The back wall of the flag bridge was lined with loops for VIP observers.

  A new sun appeared in the center of the bridge dome. The Dread’s crew began processing their own observations and relayed reports from the scouts who’d preceded them in.

  “Intelligence was correct,” announced Admiral Bachak. “The Harmony fleet is jumping in from the Yalu system. We have a classic meeting engagement.”

  “Can we hit them before they’re all through?” asked Wayne Searcher.

  The admiral shook his head. “They’re two light hours away. It will be days until we’re in effective range to attack. First we need to get the fleet in formation and start accelerating toward the enemy.”

  Mitchie decided Bachak wasn’t expecting anything interesting to happen or he would have sent the tourists back to their quarters. A pair of protocol ensigns kept the flunkies from bothering anyone with real work to do. She used her rank to drift among the consoles. The staffers seemed unfazed by the enemy being real instead of simulated this time.

  Their efforts concentrated on traffic control. Rather than specifying the formation in advance Bachak’s ‘flocking’ strategy meant squadrons were assigned places relative to the flagship after they’d begun organizing their component ships into their own formation.

  Most of the chatter was the battleship using its sensitive sensors to locate ships which had emerged too far away for their squadron commanders to find them.

  We’ve been pushing the gaps between gate passages, thought Mitchie. If he gets any more aggressive on that we could lose a ship or two. The fleet had already lost a cruiser and two destroyers to maintenance failures.

  “Sir, we have enough ships for Pilum,” announced a tactical officer.

  “Excellent,” said Bachak. “Execute Pilum.”

  Orders flowed down the chain of command. On the displays clumps of missiles headed out toward the Harmony fleet.

  Mitchie floated over to her nominal subordinate. “At this range?” she asked quietly.

  Bachak grinned. “Intelligence says they think we’re incompetent and panicky. Six hundred missiles are a cheap way to keep them thinking that.”

  PHS Kongbu, Danu System, acceleration 0 m/s2

  Guo looked around Kongbu’s flag bridge, trying to memorize anything that would be useful intelligence. He hadn’t found anything yet. The rings of consoles were under a half dome, giving them a view of the Danu system. The officers manning the consoles had little to do. They’d occasionally report that some squadron had organized itself and was moving into fleet formation. None of them seemed to need help from the flag.

  Listening to Ping’s chatter wasn’t informative either. The Daifu was here to show he was important enough to c
laim a place in the middle of critical operations. He’d brought Guo along to illustrate his power. Admiral Chang participated enough in the conversation to keep it going, perhaps just to make Ping stay here instead of wandering among the consoles.

  Guo noticed when something caught the admiral’s attention. Following his look revealed a cluster of staffers arguing over the meaning of some event. Clearly something wasn’t following their script. The Operations and Planning staffers brought in Sensors, Intelligence, and Astrogation. Then Communications joined the scrum. Other ships must have something to contribute to the discussion. Chang didn’t interfere, just glancing at them while keeping his attention on Ping’s lecture on how to handle negotiations.

  At last a commodore floated over to the command console. “Admiral, the CPS fleet has fired upon us. We assess it as about six hundred missiles. They’ll reach us in a bit over two days, assuming they're Type Forty models.”

  “They’re firing at us? Not the scouts?” asked Chang.

  “That was our first guess, but parallax views from the scouts confirm the salvo is aimed at our main body. We think they just panicked when they saw us forming up.”

  “I doubt they’re that undisciplined.”

  Ping broke in to say, “Most of their fleet has very little experience in their positions. That will make them likely to panic in their first engagement.”

  “More likely they’re running live fire exercises as last minute training,” said Chang. “Or just prodding us to see how we’ll react. We can use this as missile defense training. Dong, hit them with counter fire as far out as practical. Oh, and pull the scouts back. They might intend to conceal a maneuver behind the missile plumes.”

  “Yes, sir.” The commodore floated back to Operations.

  “I’ll make my first broadcast after you’ve destroyed the missiles,” declared Daifu Ping.

  “Oh?” said the admiral.

  “Yes, seeing that effort wasted will be the proper psychological preparation. If we can persuade them enough some of their fleet will desert or even defect to us."

  Guo could see Chang grit his jaw, probably resisting a scathing comment on Ping’s verbal prowess. But the Elders had authorized active negotiations until a full fleet engagement began. Ping could talk to his heart’s content until the ship was in danger.