Even at this late hour, the corridors were busy with personnel. Fevered, almost. Officers of all grades hurried from place to place, most of them with one eye on a handheld tablet or speaking loudly into comms headsets. Recker caught a few of the words – enough to realize that the cat was slowly clawing its way out of the bag. This meeting with Admiral Telar had come at just the right time and he was determined to get some answers, whatever it took.
The door to Office 003 was like every other – a veneered piece of alloy with a security panel to the side. Recker brushed his fingertips across the panel, the base mainframe verified that he was on the attendees list and opened the door for him.
He stepped inside.
“Hello, Carl.”
Recker belatedly realised that an FTL meeting could have taken place in his existing office without dragging him all the way down here.
“Hello, sir.”
Admiral Devon Telar wasn’t on Earth. He was here on the Adamantine base, sitting behind a large, dark-wood desk, half-hidden by the desktop communicator.
Telar stood. He was about Recker’s height, but slimmer of build, with short grey hair, piercing grey eyes, a straight nose and high cheekbones. In an unusual display of informality, he was dressed in dark blue travelling clothes, like he’d not long ago landed on the base. He gestured towards one of the two spare chairs opposite. “Take a seat.”
“I thought you were on Earth, sir,” said Recker, lowering himself into the green leather chair.
“I was. And now I’m here.” Telar’s voice was deep, while his accent was unusual and unidentifiable, like he’d grown up living in several different places. “Tell me what happened on Etrol, Carl. I’ve got teams checking out the data you sent, and I listened to your verbal report. It was light on detail.”
That was an exaggeration, but Recker went with it anyway. “I was light on time, sir.”
A hint of a smile played at the corner of Telar’s mouth. “A weapon, you say?”
“That’s what the evidence suggests, sir. My crew and I believe it’s part of a network.”
“I’ve already drawn a few conclusions of my own. Now, please give me the details again. Everything.”
Ten minutes later and Recker was finished his explanation. Telar didn’t give too much away about his feelings - if he ever decided to take up poker, he’d make a tough opponent, though Recker was beginning to recognize that the admiral’s lack of reaction had its own meaning and in itself gave away clues as to what was going through the man’s mind.
“You did well, Carl. Thank you.”
“Everyone did well, sir.”
“I know, but you’re the one who’s sitting in front of me.”
“What are we going to do with the intel? Whatever’s happening at Etrol, it’s important.”
“I need to think on it,” said Telar noncommittally.
“But sir…”
Telar raised a hand for silence. “I’m not dismissing your assessment, Captain. Don’t think that for a moment.” He smiled, though it was a sad one. “Our situation recently became more difficult and until the dust settles, I can’t just order a fleet to the Virar-12 system. Not with you confirming the Daklan have an annihilator and a desolator out there.”
Recker didn’t protest any further – Telar would do what he had to do. “You said our situation just became more difficult. We lost some ships, sir.”
Telar didn’t seem surprised that the secret was out, though his face twisted in a memory of pain.
“A lot of ships – eighty confirmed, a handful of others unaccounted. A bad result, Carl. A real bad result.”
“What happened?”
“We had intel from DS-Quad2 – a Daklan installation on a dead world. We saw a chance and we went for it.”
“What went wrong?” asked Recker quietly.
“They had a fleet stationed out there. We expected one and we compensated.” Telar picked up a collection of papers from his desk and shook them angrily. “Probability reports, intel meetings, strategies, tactics, planning, you name it, we considered everything. Or we thought we did. What we didn’t expect was three previously unrecorded annihilators to be out there, along with everything else we had assumed.”
Three annihilators were enough to turn the tide of most engagements, but Recker got the feeling there was something else.
“Those battleships alone wouldn’t be enough to wipe out our fleet, sir. Unless the rest of the Daklan presence already matched us for firepower.”
Telar leaned across his desk. “Lightspeed missiles, Carl. High payload, lightspeed missiles.”
Recker wanted to say that it wasn’t possible - that the Daklan missile tech wasn’t much better than what the HPA was producing. He kept his mouth shut, not wanting to waste his breath arguing against the truth.
“Range? Limitations?” he asked.
“We have no answers to either. The few details we have is that the missiles launch from specially-adapted tubes and then accelerate to lightspeed after a short duration.”
Recker leaned back and ran the fingers of both hands through his hair. “It’s a game changer we didn’t need.”
“If we’d found out about this new tech in a limited engagement, maybe we’d have enough time to adapt or come up with a counter. Losing eighty ships might be too much.”
“Do you think the Daklan held back from showing their hand until they knew they could make the best use of these new missiles?”
“It doesn’t matter too much, does it?” Telar smiled thinly. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re right, Carl. Those bastards are turning out to be cleverer than we are.”
“That annihilator at Etrol looked new. It could have used a lightspeed missile against the Finality,” said Recker in realization. He knew he’d escaped by the skin of his teeth and now he saw exactly how thin the margin had been.
“If it’s any consolation, they aimed the missiles at our larger warships. We’re working on the assumption the Daklan can only build them in limited numbers or that the cost of producing each is so outrageous they aren’t prepared to waste them on the less capable members of our fleet.”
Whatever the reality, it was sobering to learn that the enemy had developed a weapon with such terrifying capabilities and Recker fell silent as he considered the future. He remembered something else – a statistic which Aston had mentioned during the Etrol mission.
“I heard we’re at a fifty percent chance they’ll find one of our worlds within the next twelve months,” said Recker.
Telar looked down at his desk, the contents of which were hidden from Recker’s eyes by the communicator. Finding what he was after, he brandished some more pages. “This is the latest projection. I won’t tell you the numbers, but it’s not good.”
Recker didn’t press for specifics and wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what was contained in the projection report. “We’ve talked problems, sir. What solutions are we working on?”
“Fleet Admiral Solan has obtained agreement from the Representation to transition our economy to total war.”
Hearing the name Solan caused Recker’s hackles to rise, but he kept his expression neutral. The shift to total war was significant and overdue - and probably too late, given the recent loss of eighty ships.
“When is that news going official? The whole military is expecting something.”
“I know. Every base is seething like a pit of snakes and that extends beyond Lustre. Before you leave this office, the word will go out and it’ll be ten times worse than it is now. We’re cancelling all leave and we’re switching to twenty-four-hour operations in our shipyards, weapons factories and research labs.”
“We don’t have the personnel, sir.”
“Not yet we don’t. Total war is going to require sacrifices from our people and that extends to more than a few extra feds in taxes.”
“Conscription?”
“Starting from tomorrow. Fleet Admiral Solan already has access to civilian rec
ords and databanks – he’s got a team compiling lists of who we need.”
“That won’t go down well.”
“I’m leaving that to the Representation. They can deal with the fallout, we’ll handle the Daklan.” Telar wasn’t a stupid man and he met Recker’s eyes. “And yes, I’m fully aware the military has been derelict in its duties so far, and I’m part of that.”
“What are we planning to do about the Daklan? I take it nobody’s talking peace?”
“We’re talking peace, they’re talking war.” Telar’s gaze was unwavering. “Do you understand the Daklan, Carl?”
Telar didn’t like timidity in his officers, so Recker came right out and said what he thought. “They’re warlike bastards, sir. They respect strength and bravery, though they give no quarter when confronted by either.”
“I don’t think they respect strength,” said Telar with a slow shake of his head. “If anything, the strong don’t have to be brave – they win battles without taking risks.”
Recker thought he understood where Telar was leading. “They are the strong party in this war.”
“Yes, they are now. A decade ago, they weren’t. Back then, the HPA might have had the upper hand. At the very least we were evenly matched.”
“The Daklan could make peace at any time and we’d accept.”
“Think about the situation.” Telar didn’t drop his gaze and the intensity of it increased.
“They won’t make peace because we keep asking for it.”
“So I have come to believe. At one time, they might have respected us. Now, they may even hate us for our weakness.”
“That’s no reason for them to pursue the war so aggressively.”
“I’m not so sure you’re right. Maybe the Daklan want to destroy us completely.”
“You don’t think so.”
“I think they’ll come to a trigger point at which they feel honour – or whatever concept of it the Daklan hold – has been satisfied.”
“When do you think that point will come, sir?”
“I don’t know, Carl. I lie awake at night asking myself the question and I’m no closer to coming up with anything I can believe in. In truth, a part of me does think the Daklan will continue until we are extinct. We’re dealing with aliens here and we have only a limited grasp of their motivations, despite the number of people we employ to try and understand them.”
“What are our plans, sir?” asked Recker again.
“We should do our damnedest to regain the respect of our opponents,” said Telar, avoiding the question. “They hurt us, we hurt them.”
“I don’t see the difference. That’s how we’ve always approached the war.”
“We have been risk averse. We have allowed opportunities to pass us by in case the outcome resulted in too many casualties – casualties that the Representation might not accept. Losses that our funding might be inadequate to replace.”
“We’re going to take some extra risks?”
A fleeting something passed across Telar’s features and Recker guessed that high command wasn’t in complete agreement about what approach they should take.
“Some limited risks. When the moment is right. Our fleet has suffered and even though we have many part-built warships in our yards, our losses will take time to replace.”
“Not all of those risks will be delayed for the right moment. That’s why I’m here.”
“You understand the realities, Carl.” Telar sighed. “Several hours ago, I had few options. Now, I have many and little time to understand the potential outcomes of each possible success or failure.” He leaned forward, offering a sheet of paper.
Recker took the printout, which was headed Top Secret. The text was small and there was plenty of it. He scanned the top few lines and found that he was holding a list of potential Daklan installations, gathered from the DS-Quad1 monitoring station’s long-range scans. Against each line was a percentage, ranging from one to fourteen.
“A lot of sightings,” Recker said.
“I have similar lists from our other three monitoring stations. A total of 615 leads to investigate, and not nearly enough warships to accomplish the task.” Telar gave a half-smile. “Turn it over.”
The printout was double-sided and continued all the way to the bottom of the second side. One line stood out – it was highlighted in orange and the percentage was higher than any of the others.
“Thirty-four percent,” Recker grunted humorlessly. “I guess this one’s mine.”
“You’re a damn good officer, Carl.”
“Did you choose this? Or did instruction come from elsewhere?”
“The military picks the best personnel for every job.”
Recker’s anger climbed again. “Cut the crap, sir. I know how it works and you’re going along with it.”
“You don’t know as much as you think, Captain!” said Telar, thumping his palm onto the desk. “There’s a spaceship waiting on the landing strip to replace the broken one you came back in. You’ll depart within two hours.”
“What about a briefing, sir?” asked Recker coldly.
“Everything you need is waiting onboard. Now go!”
Recker stood and studied Telar’s face for a moment, searching for hints as to what the admiral was thinking.
“Thank you, sir.” Recker turned for the door.
“Carl?” The word was spoken softly.
“Sir?”
“I can’t promise you a change. Not yet.”
“I know, sir. This is my cross to bear.”
With that, Recker left Telar’s office.
Chapter Twelve
Getting hold of his crew wasn’t an easy task given the late hour and Recker was required to send squads out to make sure they were roused. After that, he exited the admin building into the near darkness of late evening. The air was colder than before and filled with the sounds of countless vehicles passing along the roads nearby. From much further away came the dull bass rumble of something far bigger.
Without a backward glance, Recker made for the parking lot where vehicles were left for the use of senior officers. Personnel headed in every direction and the roads were in danger of becoming clogged. Troops of armed soldiers in full combat gear jogged from place to place. Directly ahead, the walls of another building loomed and everywhere he looked, Recker saw others like it, light spilling from their reinforced windows and figures visible inside.
The Adamantine base was predominantly right-angles, concrete and alloy. Aside from the central administration building, everything was designed with two things in mind: cost and resilience. Recker didn’t hate it, but every time he came to one of the HPA’s military bases, he was reminded why he preferred to be far away in space. There was beauty in emptiness. Here, there was little to be found.
Only a single vehicle remained in the lot and another officer brushed past Recker as he dashed towards it.
“That one’s mine,” said Recker calmly.
The man slowed and turned to look over his shoulder. He recognized Recker’s insignia and gave a rueful smile. “Sorry, sir. All yours.”
Recker was in too much of a hurry to offer the other man a ride and he strode past. The vehicle was square and basic like exterior of the buildings and he hauled open the door. He slid into the driver’s seat and wrinkled his nose. A pile of crumpled fast food wrappers in the rear footwell told a tale of selfish laziness. Recker told himself it wasn’t important and tapped his finger against the starter pad.
The vehicle’s onboard computer completed a biometric scan and its gravity drive fired up with a gentle hum, lifting the car a couple of feet from the ground.
“Where to, sir?” asked the navigational computer with irritating obsequiousness.
“Take me to the Punisher. And don’t piss about.”
“Certainly, sir. By which I mean I will certainly take you to the Punisher, but I certainly won’t delay.”
“Shut up and go.”
“Yes, sir
!”
The car reversed out of the lot and headed into traffic. This area of Adamantine was served by a road with five lanes in both directions. Even so, it was crowded – far more than Recker would have expected at any other time. Admiral Telar had promised that news of total war would go out and Recker guessed he’d made it onto the roads just in time. Another hour and he expected the base mainframe would have to take control of every ground-based navigational system just to keep things moving.
Recker’s pocket buzzed and he tugged out his portable communicator. It had a flip screen and he opened it with one thumb to find confirmation that his crew were on their way. He closed the device with a clack and slid it back into his pocket.
For a couple of minutes, the car got stuck behind the broad hull of a tank, which occupied all five lanes and which didn’t seem in a hurry. Recker gritted his teeth and considered opening a comms channel to the driver. A few seconds later, the tank turned left towards another area of the base, its twin-barrel guns almost scraping against the sides of the corner building.
After that, the traffic lessened, though the pavements were no less busy. The road widened to fifteen lanes in each direction as it carried on straight into the storage and warehouse area of Adamantine. In this area, the largest vehicles of all required access, though Recker couldn’t see any of the huge crawlers which lugged supplies and ammunition from warehouse to warship.
The last of daytime’s deep blue vanished from the sky, leaving thousands of artificial lights to produce an imperfect copy of midday here at ground level. Recker had always been impressed by the size of the military’s storage facilities and he peered through the windshield at the sheer walls of concrete reaching high above.
At last, the car left the buildings behind and it raced onto the landing strip, which was illuminated by countless globes embedded in the ground. Ahead and in the distance, Recker saw the familiar outline of a riot class, while to his left was the much larger shape of a Teron class cruiser.
War from a Distant Sun (Savage Stars Book 1) Page 10