“True, but it also creates a huge risk,” Roger countered. “Should they come dropping in using the same small to large ship formation like they did before, we could be facing a battle with their entire fleet without our screening ships providing their weight to the battle. We could get chewed up pretty quick if that happens.”
“I agree,” Philip said while narrowing his eyes at the monitor. “It’s a huge risk, but it has great rewards if they take the bait and try to counter those gunships.”
Philip supposed this entire venture was one huge risk. His only hope was catching his opponent off guard. He needed to take risks to make that happen. Without knowing whether that fast attacked survived made it hard to know which way to lean. He could be conservative and hope the Curanians were still blind to how he was currently positioned, but he felt that was a dangerous assumption to make.
Roger looked over at him, and said, “You know, Admiral, we plastered these two fast attacks in the first battle, yet the ships managed to keep their crews alive until we could pick them up. What are the chances we quieted the crew on this one?”
“I see your point. All they need is for a single member of the crew to have survived who can relay what they saw to give the Curanians what they need to know.”
Roger glanced up at the tactical screen again, and asked, “So, what do we do about it?”
“I say we reposition to take advantage of it. Let’s just pray our adversary gives us the time we need to make it happen.”
Chapter Twenty
“And you’re sure that is how they were positioned?” Plon asked.
“This is what I saw, Plon,” Denc answered through the communication link after her transfer from her ship.
Plon thought over what Denc had told him and tried to decide what to do about it. His concern was that his opponent knew they had been seen, so would they change their defensive stance, and if so, how?
“With your permission, Plon, I would like to return to my ship and see to her repairs. Those klidspit energy balls nearly blew the aft end off the Kero. I lost eight of my crew, too.”
Plon could detect the sadness mixed into the bitterness in Denc’s tone. He couldn’t blame her, either. No commander likes to see their ship shot up or have any of their crew killed. Especially one with such a small crew where they tended to be closer knit.
“Permission granted,” Plon responded. “The service tenders will use this as our staging area during the battle. I’ll have your ship towed in for repairs directly. We’ll get you repaired enough to get home, but I’m afraid you’re out of action. You’ll be able to rejoin the fleet after the Supreme’s Blossom Celebration.”
Cutting off the communication link, he turned his attention to his battle map. His mind raced with what to do now. He had a good picture of how his adversary was going to face his fleet, but would it remain that way? What would they do knowing their defensive position was now known to him?
“Denc is a good Commander. It’s a shame to see her having to suffer such a loss,” Jime said.
Plon glanced down through the transparent floor at her. She had been allowed to listen in on the communication to give her insight into what had transpired. Up to this point, she had remained quiet during his conversation with Denc.
“It’s the risk one takes when in command.”
“True” Jime responded, “but it’s easier to take when you had a chance to fire back. She never had a chance.”
“Are you going soft on me, Jime?”
Jime frowned up at him, and then changed the subject by asking, “Any change in plans?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Plon answered. “It’s not so much a matter of deciding what to do about this as it is in knowing if they will remain in this formation.”
“What do you mean?”
“These creatures are crafty. Their Control will not take any chances with what the Kero spotted before they fled. The problem is whether this person will make changes to try to offset any changes we make to our plan. It’s a game of strategy right now, with the pieces we lose being real ships and real lives.”
“Perhaps you are over thinking this, Plon. They may keep it exactly like it is figuring you would expect them to change it.”
“That’s the heart of it, isn’t it? It comes down to which one of us can outsmart the other. If I guess wrong, I can get a lot of Curanians killed by walking into a well-organized defensive position.” Plon sighed as he struggled to decide what to do.
◆◆◆
Philip sat in one of the Conviction’s command chairs studying the tactical display while hoping to detect any weaknesses in their rearranged formation. It took close to an hour to come up with new plan and then get all ships into their revised formation. Roger now sat quietly next to him sipping his cup of coffee.
The sound of Roger setting the cup onto the armrest caught Philip’s attention. Glancing over at it, he watched as Roger let the cup slide into the half-inch deep holder designed for it. The sight caused Philip to wonder who came up with the idea of putting such indentations into the armrest in the first place.
“The more I study our current position, Admiral, the more I like it,” Roger said.
Staring at the dark liquid as it slowly rocked in Roger’s cup, he answered, “I’m just glad our opponent gave us the time to execute it.”
“That was the most stressful part. I was sweating it out the entire time our ships were in motion.”
Philip finally ignored the coffee and looked up at the tactical view. “We put together a solid plan, Roger. Whether they alter their plan or not doesn’t really matter now. We’ll shellac ‘em no matter how they arrive. I’m surprised we didn’t think of this formation right from the start.”
“I guess we needed to be jolted into desperation to find the right solution,” Roger said.
Figuring there was probably a lot of truth in Roger’s comment, Philip once again looked for any weakness in the formation. The Conviction and Poniard now sat behind the expected entry point. Roger had determined that catching their larger ships from behind allowed them to inflict a lot of damage before the ships could turn sideways to address the problem. The gunships now sat where the two battle cruisers had originally been positioned facing the expected arrival point. They were placed further back, though, to give them a nice field of fire on anything trying to move toward them. They also staggered three high and three low to counter any ship that tried to ascend or descend their formation.
The cruises ran on each side of the opening, but further back than how the gunships had been originally. Their slower rate of fire made it necessary to allow the extra distance to help in preventing enemy ships from closing in on them too fast. The destroyers were positioned between the gunships and the cruisers. They angled outward to make up the gap between the closely ranked gunships and the much farther spaced cruisers. They also varied in elevation in case his opponent decided to be more disbursed in their formation in an attempt to pass over or under his defenses.
“The real weaknesses are the destroyers. If I was the Curanian commander, I’d want to punch through our ranks to get my fleet into the open to maneuver better as soon as I could,” Philip said aloud in support of his thoughts.
“Isn’t that what we’re counting on, Admiral?” Roger asked.
“It is if it works,” Philip responded. “The formation looks solid, but there are always holes you don’t see until it was too late.” Philip was trying to find them now.
“It’ll work,” Roger said with a single nod as if he was trying to convince himself. “They’ll race forward to put distance between our cruisers and them. They’ll see that front rank of small ship and believe they can bust right through the line. When the gunships open up, it’ll be like hell has released its fury. When the gunships have to stop firing to recycle the generators, the destroyers will still be firing upon their flanks. They will think they have fallen onto a hornet’s nest.”
Philip could see that in his mind, too
. “And if they stay and slug it out with the cruisers and our battle cruisers?”
“Then it becomes a slugfest between dreadnoughts and may the best ship win. Our much larger and heavier-duty plasma and shield generators will keep us in the battle for the long run. That frees up the gunships and destroyers to make harassing runs around their outer edges.”
“Your confidence is most reassuring, Roger. If nothing else, being on the outside of their fleet gives us a clear path to jump out if it comes to that,” Philip said.
Nodding agreement, Roger said, “I think we are as ready as we will ever be.”
“Do all ships have the coordinates to retreat to the rendezvous point if we have to bug out?”
“Yes. Lieutenant Lonbeck validated that all the ships have calculated their Nav computers for an emergency jump to that rendezvous point. It was a clever choice on your part?”
Nodding, Philip said, “It helps to be a history buff to learn from those who have fought battles in the past. The heavy nebula layers there should interfere with their lasers and allow us to hide within it like an old bomber dipping into the clouds to hide from the fighters.”
“And the twentieth-century trickery?”
Philip glanced over at Roger, and asked, “Are you asking if it will work?”
“Yes. Do you really think small pieces of aluminum will hamper their laser weapon?”
“That’s the hope. The science team believes that their laser delivery system will bounce around within those aluminum pieces and disrupt their ability to target with it. I just wish we had time to make a whole lot more of it.”
“At least they made enough canisters to supply to the gunships, so they can use it when it comes time to retreat.”
Staring out the portals at where the enemy fleet was expected at any time, Philip silently hoped it would all be enough to keep his ships safe should the battle go against him.
◆◆◆
Plon couldn’t help but smile as he revised his original plan. The new information provided by another fast attack solidified his plans. It had been risky to send the ship on a mission to drop into the backside of the planet, but it had to be done. Fortunately, the unmapped route proved productive. Not only had the fast attack dropped into that section of space unharmed, but they found it to be completely unguarded. It was clear his adversary did not expect them to take such a risk as to jump through an uncharted route. Well, it’s charted now.
Suddenly, instead of trying to force two fleets to run through whatever gauntlet his opponent had set up for them, he could bring his second fleet in behind the planet and have them come racing around to outflank them. He would have their ships trapped between his two fleets where he could easily defeat them.
With great pleasure, he pushed his revised battle plan out to all the other ships tactical maps. Opening line of communication to all ships, he said, “This is Control, prepare to participate in an interactive session.”
Observing the communication section of the console, he waited for each ship’s indicator to light up signaling their Commander was ready. It didn’t take long for all ships to indicate their readiness to go over the change to the battle plan.
After going over the new plan in detail, and answering a few clarifying questions, Plon finally cut off the session and sat back. Studying everything around him, the sight of so many ships sitting ready to obey his command felt invigorating. Not only did he have a sizable force to defeat his adversary, he also had the good plan to avoid unnecessary losses.
“Okay, let’s go get them,” Plon said aloud just before opening the communication link again. “Control to all ships. Execute according to plan. May the will of the Supreme drive our win.”
Chapter Twenty-one
“The Curanian is here, Admiral.”
Ron pressed the comm icon on his desktop, and responded, “Escort him in.”
His office door was already open, so Admiral Ackerman waited for the alien to arrive. He had heard they were exceedingly tall, had a pale complexion and carried hair so dark it looked like coal. Well, he was about to find out for himself how true that was.
When one of his office clerks entered leading in the Curanian, the contrast almost made Ron laugh. His clerk was a small woman of about five-three, while the alien had to duck slightly to clear the top of the door frame. Not only was his skin white, but the black hair on his head made his face look all the paler.
“Muni is it?” Ron asked at the same time he gestured toward one of the two chairs facing his desk.
“Muni, yes. I command the Fice.” Muni looked at both chairs for a moment before selecting and sitting on one of them.
Ron wasn’t sure if he was referencing that he still felt in command of the ship, or it was just his lack of proper pronunciation of the language in not using past tense. Letting it go, he said, “I apologies for pulling you away from your crew right after your arrival, but I have an urgent matter that I want to discuss.”
“What urgent mean?”
“Well let’s see. I suppose you could say it means I need the information now.”
“Yes; understand.”
“Good. You remember Admiral Litton, right?” Ron knew he would, but it seemed like a good way to make a connection with the alien.
“Yes, Admiral good man.”
“The Admiral told me about his conversation with you regarding your Supreme. Do I have that term right?”
Muni scrunched up his face before answering, “Yes, Supreme. She is all Curanian.
“By all Curanian, are you saying she drives the direction of your people?”
Ron could see Muni working to translate the question into terms he could understand. He finally replied, “Yes, she tell people all they need to know.”
“I take it you don’t like her?”
“No like. Supreme holds Curanians down. Punishes those who do not—how do you say?” Muni worked his hands into rolling motions over each other while trying to find the English equivalent of what he wanted to say. He finally shook his head at not finding the right word and didn’t say anything further.
“Muni, this will be a hard question. What would happen if this Supreme was to die right now with no other Supreme to take over in her place?” Ron took a chance that he wouldn’t offend Muni by speaking of her dying.
Muni stared at him for several seconds. His stare was intense, and Ron felt he was trying to determine a life without a Supreme running things. He finally answered, “Much confusion. No to know how to lead. There would be…” Muni again rolled his hands quickly while trying to find the right word.
“Chaos?” Ron asked in hope of leading him to the right word.
“What chaos mean?”
Ron tried to think of how best to describe chaos in a way Muni would understand. Then an idea hit him. He opened a drawer and pulled out a mind-bender game that was given to him by Philip as a gag gift. It was a round wooden ball made from various shapes that connected together to form the orb. Once separated, it would prove a bear to get the pieces to fit correctly. He had never taken it apart for that very reason.
Setting the wooden orb on his desk, he said, “This is normal. See this as your people under a Supreme.” He waited until Muni nodded his understanding before he pulled out a couple of pieces. The entire ball fell into a mass of individual, uniquely-shaped, pieces on his desk. Ron pointed at it while saying, “Chaos.”
“Chaos, yes. No Supreme mean chaos.”
Pleased to have gotten Muni on the same train of thought, Ron asked, “Would that be bad?”
Muni seemed confused by the question. He massaged his face while looking down at the floor. He finally looked up, and answered, “No have no Supreme before.”
“What would you say if I told you we could make that happen?” Muni seemed unable to answer the question. Ron wasn’t sure if he couldn’t get his mind around the concept, or if he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. “Muni, without a Supreme you could stop the destruction of other cul
tures—like ours. We could help your people move away from the evilness that is your Supreme. We could help all Curanians to live like we do where everyone has a voice. If the Curanian people wanted that, we can make it happen. We just need your help?”
Muni narrowed his eyes as if suddenly becoming suspicious. “What help you need?”
“We want to eliminate this Supreme to save our people. We need your help in knowing where your planet is to get to her. Can you help us do that?” Ron felt like he had just put his entire savings on one bet. He anxiously awaited Muni’s response.
“Big battle? Many get hurt?”
“No Muni.” Ron shook his head. “Just the Supreme.”
“I talk to others first. Not for me to say.”
Ron understood Muni’s concern. He was being asked to help upset everyone’s way of life in one quick swoop. It was a huge decision for a single person to agree to, especially when he would be destroying the only way of life he had ever known.
“I understand. Go and talk with the others and we will chat again tomorrow.”
Muni got up and turned to leave. He was met at the door and escorted away. Ron understood Muni’s apprehension. It wasn’t like he was asking to remove a wart off his nose. He was asking for the Curanian’s help in killing the very leader of his people. How would Ron respond to someone asking for his help to assassinate the people of the Governments? Thinking about Philip and his desperate battle, he would probably hand them the weapon and point the way.
◆◆◆
Muni waited until everyone was situated in their new home before he took Nock aside and discussed his conversation with Admiral Ackerman. Nock displayed the same uncertainty that Muni felt. The humans were asking a lot of them. As bad as the Supreme could be, was it right to talk about killing one? The question seemed to go far beyond Muni’s level of understanding.
The Curanian Dominance: The Linda Eccles Series - Volume Three Page 15