“In the meantime, though, the destroyers are a big problem. The DP is trying to force a stand-up battle with our main forces. If they do, they’re going to get hurt. Badly. We don’t want that to happen, because it makes the peace harder. The politicians in the DP are masters of demagoguery, and war widows and orphans are easy to demagogue about. So we don’t want that stand-up battle.
“The question then is, What do we do about those recon destroyers?”
“And Operation Butterfly Net deals with them?”
“Yes. We pull all our picket ships back, away from the DP fleets, until they’re outside the zone in which the recon destroyers are operating. Admiral Conroy gets glimpses of them, and she knows where that limit has to be.”
“But how can we get outside them, Bobby? They can go just as fast in hyperspace as we can, and they’re in front.”
“Because they’re not moving straight out. They’re zig-zagging around, doubling back, coming back to report so they can get back up into hyperspace with one of the fleet projector ships. We can get outside them
“Once we do, we spread the picket ships out in a big half-sphere so all their detection radiuses overlap. No gaps. I wouldn’t have thought you could do it, but the picket ships running at 0.4g in hyperspace are very quiet platforms. There’s no air circulation system, no CO2 scrubbers, no water purification system. They can see a ship a long ways off, even an old-design DP destroyer running at 0.4g.”
“And then we contract the half-sphere?”
“And then we contract the half-sphere.”
“What do they do once they find one, Bobby?”
“If they’re close enough to intercept it, they sneak up on it and ram it. If not, they drop out of hyperspace to report it.”
“How does the picket ship get back into hyperspace? They can’t all have a light cruiser along.”
“Once in hyperspace, they don’t need the light cruisers. The light cruisers will tag along and drop out of hyperspace every twelve hours to get coordinates to do picket ship rescues. Boost them back up into hyperspace.”
“What about gaps? Will there be gaps in the coverage when picket ships drop out?”
“We don’t think so. The shell gets smaller as it contracts.”
“How many picket ships are we talking about?”
“About five million.”
“Wow. That’s almost half of them all.”
“Yes. There are a million around Sintar. The capital planet, not the Empire. There are four million that went on into the DP. And Fleet Admiral Sharma has a bunch on the farside frontiers. The rest are pretty much in Operation Butterfly Net.”
“Why are there so many around Sintar, Bobby?”
“Because we don’t know they haven’t figured out the total-fission weapon. And if they bomb Imperial City – if they kill me and the central government – they win.”
“I almost hate to ask this, but have you named an heir?”
“A list of them, in order of preference. Of course, Amanda.”
“Off Sintar? Just in case?”
“Yes.”
“And is there a way of communicating that if Imperial City is bombed?”
“Yes. Encrypted instructions already sent to the general staff of the Imperial Marines, who effectively become the Imperial Guard in emergencies. And a computer off Sintar that sends the encryption key if my vital signs stop reporting in.”
“OK. That’s good. I don’t know who you would pick, but it’s good you’re on top of it.”
“I have some excellent sector governors, Amanda. Some of whom already have experience as a monarch.”
Peters thought about it, then nodded.
“That’s right. You do. I think they’re all quite a bit older than you, though, Bobby.”
It was Dunham’s turn to nod.
“True. But, for the present emergency, they will suffice.”
“All right, Chief. So what are we doin’ now?” Kowalski asked.
“We’re swapping out the missile container for a reaction-mass container on all our picket ships,” Chief Petty Officer James Fordham said.
“All of ‘em?”
“Yeah. We got a new assignment. Operation Butterfly Net. We’re going after their recon destroyers.”
“Who names these things anyway, Chief? Operation Sitting Duck. Operation Butterfly Net. Operation Roaches, for cryin’ out loud.”
“Some guy sittin’ behind a desk somewheres. Don’t matter, Kowalski. The point is, we’re gonna send these picket ships off on a long run through hyperspace, where we can’t use the missiles anyways, but they’re gonna need the reaction mass for the long trip.”
“Then how they gonna get the destroyers?”
“We’re goin’ back to the rammin’ thing.”
“Oh. OK. Well, that explains it.”
He looked at the duplicate of the bridge’s navigation display, where a quarter of a million picket ships were having containers swapped in Cache 17.
“Lotta work, though, Chief.”
Fordham shrugged.
“The robot cargo shuttles do most of it. All we gotta do is wait our turn in line, then head off to the sally point.”
“And then what do we do while the picket ships are in hyperspace, Chief?”
“Drill, of course. We’re still a little rusty on that shoot-hyperspace-shoot maneuver. I think that one’s comin’ up.”
“Operation Potshot. Another stupid name.”
“Kowalski, if you ever figure out who the author is, you can take it up with him. Not my problem.”
“Are we ready, Jay?” Fleet Admiral Espinoza asked.
“Almost, Ma’am,” Admiral Kim said. “We still have a few container swaps going on in Caches 12 and 17. Most have been swapped and the ships are on their way to the sally points.”
“And the new software?”
“Not yet, Ma’am, though I hear it is in testing.”
“Is this another one of Denny’s specials?”
“Yes, Ma’am. He and Admiral Svenson connived on it.”
“Connived?”
“With those two, Ma’am, what else would you call it?”
“Good point. But it’s not ready yet?”
“No, Ma’am. Mr. Denny wants to test it right up until we need it.”
“That’s what I like to hear. We don’t need it yet, and the longer they have to play with it, the better off we are.”
“Yes, Ma’am. I can certainly agree with that.”
Across a huge half-sphere, fifteen hundred light-years in diameter, a hundred thousand Sintaran formations got into position. Each formation was fifty picket ships and one old-design light-cruiser. The center of the half-sphere was a point on the border with Annalia, the rough center from which the DP invasion of Sintar had spread.
“All the software has been updated, Ma’am. Our formations are ready to go,” Admiral Kim Jae Seong said.
“So we’re just waiting on Sintar to give the word?” Espinoza asked.
“Yes, Ma’am. I think there are still a couple of commands getting into position. Once they’re all in place, we should get the go.”
“Excellent. I like not being the last in place, but some of them had a bit further to go.”
“Or had a longer detour through a cache site for the container swap. Yes, Ma’am.”
“Wait a minute, Jay. I just got a message from Sintar.”
Espinoza got a faraway look in her eyes as she checked her mail in VR.
“Yep. Everybody’s in position. They’re saying 15:00 hours fleet time unless somebody objects. Ninety minutes from now. We have thirty minutes to object, and then they’re going to give the final go-ahead.”
“No objection here, Ma’am. We’re ready.
At 15:00 hours fleet time, picket ships started entering the hypergates projected by their light-cruiser tenders. When all fifty picket ships per location had entered hyperspace, the light cruisers pulled their hypergates over themselves and followed along.
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The picket ships, once in hyperspace, immediately spread out, heading out at angles from their entry vector. They kept spreading out until they could see in their scanning the picket ships of adjacent groups. All the picket ships assessed distances, and adjusted their locations to form a single large grid, twenty-five hundred picket ships in diameter. The distance between them settled down to about a light-year, as they all made for the center of the sphere, seven hundred and fifty light-years away.
Even an old-design DP destroyer making 0.4 gravities was visible at that distance to the sensors on the quiet and stable sensor platform of a Sintaran picket ship. Having cast a net of five-million-square-light-years across human space, the Sintaran picket ships set off in search of the DP destroyers.
“Status change. Sir, I have a single Sintaran picket ship at fifteen minus ten, range half a light-year. He’s heading toward us.”
“Come to two-eighty-five mark forty-five, one-point-five gravities,” said DPN Lieutenant Commander Sebastian Overton, captain of the DPN Weaver.
“Coming to two-eighty mark forty-five, one-point-five gravities.”
One and a half gravities, after so long operating at 0.4 gravities, felt like more than it was, but Sintaran picket ships were not to be messed with. Several minutes went by, and they appeared to have the angle on the Sintaran picket ship.
“Status change. Two more Sintaran picket ships ahead, Sir. Also making for us.”
“Flip us over. Get us out of here. Emergency acceleration.”
But Overton had delayed too long. There was no vector that could escape the converging picket ships. They were pushing hard, accelerating at ten gravities. The speed difference in hyperspace didn’t vary much with the felt acceleration, but it was enough of a difference the Weaver could not escape.
The Weaver was struck by a picket ship and destroyed with all hands. The debris fell out of hyperspace, and the other picket ships returned to patrol, closing up the gap in the net.
“Status change. I have a single Sintaran picket ship at three-forty-five mark fifteen at one-half light-year. He’s seen us, Sir. He’s making for us, pushing hard.”
DPN Lieutenant Commander Will Spencer, captain of the destroyer DPN Rodney, wondered what the hell a single Sintaran picket ship was doing out here swanning around by itself. They always traveled in formation, never alone. Then it hit him.
“Bring us about to one-sixty-five minus fifteen. War emergency power. Give us all you got, Helm.”
“Coming about. Maximum acceleration.”
“Maneuver complete. Making 1.9 gravities.”
“What’s the closest fleet position?”
“Admiral Lee Jian’s formation is in the Jacobi system, Sir. Twenty light-years at ten minus five.”
“That’s the closest?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Bring us to ten minus five. And can we get any more acceleration, Helm?”
“I can push safety margins, Sir. It’s not recommended, though.”
“Neither is getting rammed by a Sintaran picket ship.”
“Status change. Two more Sintaran picket ships in pursuit. They’ve just come into scanner range, Sir.”
“Push the safety margins, Helm, then see if Engineering can give you any more. We need to beat them to Jacobi.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The DPN Rodney was nearing the Jacobi system, the lead Sintaran picket ship following in its engine wash. The Rodney had been making over 2.1 gravities acceleration for the entire ten-hour chase, or it would have been over long ago.
“We should be in among fleet elements now, Sir.”
“Cut the engines.”
When the Rodney’s helmsman cut the engines, the Rodney’s acceleration abruptly went to zero and it fell out of hyperspace in the Jacobi system. The Sintaran picket ship shot through the position the Rodney had been when it dropped out, but did not impact the ship.
The picket ships swung around and spaced back to the oncoming Sintaran net. They resumed their patrol positions.
Operation Potshot
The tactical department was meeting in a VR conference room to discuss the maneuver plans for Operation Potshot.
“How do we address the differential between our box launcher capability and theirs? Each of their ships carries twice as many missiles per launch as we do,” Fleet Admiral Cernik said.
“I’ve been looking at the numbers, at your request, and it’s not quite what you think, Stepan,” Fleet Admiral Ivar Svenson said. “We actually have quite an advantage.”
“This I want to hear. I thought we were at a disadvantage.”
“Yes, and hopefully the DP thinks so as well. Let’s consider. They have a two-hundred-fifty-six missile launch from their battleships, one-twenty-eight from their heavy cruisers, sixty-four from their light cruisers, and thirty-two from their destroyers. We have half that many per launch, and no destroyers. So if you take a set of one of each class of their ships, and a set of one of each class of ours, that’s four-hundred-eighty versus two-hundred-twenty-four missiles per set.”
“Yes. Those are the numbers everybody kicks around.”
“Exactly. But consider a force of, say, five thousand ships. That’s twelve-hundred-fifty sets of four for them, for six hundred thousand missiles. For us, though, because our ‘sets’ only have three ships, it’s sixteen hundred sixty-seven sets for us, weighted to the heavier classes, because we don’t have destroyers. The picket ships pretty much fulfill those roles for us.
“So for a force of five thousand ships, we have three hundred seventy-three thousand missiles.”
“That’s still a big disparity, Ivar.”
“Yes, it is. But we also can launch three salvoes from the box launchers, and we’re pretty sure their limit is two. With two launches, their five-thousand-ship force has one million two hundred thousand missiles, while with three launches, ours has one million one hundred twenty thousand missiles. That’s approaching parity.
“Further, our missiles have ECM. The missiles aboard ship now are, for the most part, ECM Mark 1 missiles, but all our reload inventory – five hundred million missiles worth – is all ECM Mark 2 missiles.
“Set that aside for the moment. They have two hundred thousand ships for each of their twenty commanders. Call it four million ships in theater, with a total box launch capacity of nine hundred and sixty million missiles.
“We have only eight commanders, but each has eight hundred thousand ships under their command. That’s six million four hundred thousand ships in theater, with a total box launch capacity of one billion four hundred thirty million missiles. We can set thirty-two thousand ship forces against each of their twenty-thousand-ship formations. Those forces have equal box-launch salvoes of two million four hundred thousand missiles each, but ours have a third launch after they’re shot out.
“In short, we have them seriously out-missiled in theater. Enough to destroy every single DP ship in one huge engagement. This would also kill all thirteen billion DP spacers in those ships, while we would probably lose ships, but no personnel. That’s tremendously to our advantage, but, if pressed, makes the peace impossible. Simply put, those Sintaran bastards cheated.
“What we would rather do – this is orders from above, and they are orders I agree with – is convince them we can do that, without having to do it.”
“OK, so we need to make sure they get the idea, but without doing it.”
“Exactly. That’s what the maneuver plans are intended to show. We could have, and we didn’t, but we still can.”
Dunham and Peters were cooling down in the exercise room on the lower floor of the Imperial Residence, the top two floors of the Imperial Palace. He had been lifting, she on the bike.
“I can’t believe it’s been so quiet the last six weeks,” Peters said.
“They’ve been waiting for their recon destroyers to report back positive results. But, since the Cache 32 discovery, we’ve stopped spacing anything. Their recon destroye
rs haven’t seen anything.”
“What about Cache 32? Did they try to go back in there?”
“Not yet. They can’t figure out how to do it. The cargo shuttles can fire almost a hundred and thirty thousand missiles at them, and those all have Mark 2 ECM. They’re trying to figure that out, too, from the recordings they likely sent back to headquarters on Olympia. And if they target the cargo shuttles anyway, we just blow up the whole cache.”
“Is that the plan, Bobby? To blow it up?”
“No. I mean, we could, ultimately. I think it’s actually better to dangle it before them, without them being able to do anything about it.”
“Then what’s the plan?”
“It’s a variation of Operation Potshot.”
“That’s the one where we prove we can hurt them any time we want, but they can’t hurt us?”
“That’s the one. So if they go into Cache 32 again, we get them to blow off a bunch of their box launchers at the cargo shuttles’ missiles.”
“And then what?”
“Then we drop twenty or thirty thousand heavy cruisers in there and blow them to dust bunnies with our box launchers.”
“So why haven’t they tried it yet, Bobby?”
“They’re waiting to hear from their recon destroyers.”
“But they’re not going to hear from them.”
“Oh, yes, they are, Amanda. Because the few that successfully get away from the picket ships do so by running back to a DP fleet system. So once Butterfly Net passes those systems by, we’re going to drop in on them.”
“That sounds more like the original Operation Potshot.”
“Yes, except we’re not targeting the battleships, Amanda. We’re targeting the destroyers.”
“OK, that makes sense. It kills fewer people, gets rid of the one ship class they have that is tough to track, and still makes the point we can do whatever we want to them.”
“Exactly.”
“Status change, Sir. We have half a dozen single-ship down-transitions around the system. Well outside normal commercial transition distance. From the mass readings, I’m calling them light cruisers. Sintaran.”
EMPIRE: Conqueror (EMPIRE SERIES Book 6) Page 9