by Jay Allan
“Alright, General Cain,” he said softly to himself. “Time to fight one more batt…”
“Attention Alliance Marines…attention Alliance Marines…this is Janissary Commander Farooq.” The words blared out of the speakers in Cain’s helmet, and he shut up and stared ahead in disbelief. “We are here to assist you in your struggle.”
Cain had seen the landers coming in on his scanners a few seconds before, but it never occurred to them they were friendlies. He didn’t think there were any friends left out there, at least not ones with any strength to spare.
He recognized Farooq’s voice, and now that the landers were closer, he ID’d them as Caliphate Crescent-class invasion ships. But it still seemed unreal. How the hell, he thought, did Khaled and Farooq get permission from the Caliph for this? But it didn’t matter. Allies were allies, and beggars couldn’t be choosers. And the Janissaries were the best ground troops in space. After the Marines, of course.
The enemy picked them up as well. They’d been about to launch a massive attack, one that almost certainly would have crushed the Marine defenses, but now they were falling back, waiting to see what the new arrivals would do. Cain couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He was a pessimist to the bone, but he knew he was looking at a genuine miracle. And he was grateful.
“Commander Farooq, please allow me to welcome you to Armstrong.” Cain had a hundred questions, but nothing he was going to discuss on an open line. “I look forward to showing you the sights.”
Chapter 18
CAS Kublai Khan
Epsilon Indi System
Inbound From Xeta-3 War Gate
“Still no confirmed contacts, Admiral.” Captain Wu stood at rigid attention as he made his report. Many in the navy thought of Fleet Admiral Zhu as a capable commander, while others considered him a pompous fool who owed his position entirely to the influence of his powerful family. But all agreed he was a rigid martinet who had broken officers for the slightest infractions of protocol.
“But you think the Alliance fleet is in this system?” Zhu turned his head slowly, his gaze falling on the tactical officer. “Do you not, Captain Wu?”
Wu fidgeted uncomfortably. He did suspect Garret and his people were hiding in the Epsilon Indi system, though it was nothing but baseless conjecture…no more than a feeling. Admiral Zhu tended to demand facts, not intuition, and Wu had seen the consequences of angering the terrible officer with wild suppositions.
“Speak freely, Captain.” Zhu glared at Wu, his eyes penetrating the nervous officer like two lasers. “We appear to have no facts, so we are forced to rely on guess work.”
“Yes, Admiral.” Wu was still nervous, but he was trying to hide it as well as he could. “As you know, our analysis of the warp gate shows a residual energy signature from the recent passage of a considerable number of ships. I am unaware of any other sizable formation operating in the area save for Admiral Garret’s fleet.”
“But Garret has clearly been following someone.” Zhu continued to stare at Wu as he spoke. “Thus, we can ascertain that there is another fleet operating in the sector, can we not?”
Wu shifted his feet uncomfortably. “Yes, sir. But we have been closely pursuing the Alliance fleet for nearly a month now, and we have had no contact with any other force. It does not appear that Admiral Garret has engaged in any major battles in that time.” Wu hadn’t intended to elaborate so much, but the admiral kept pressing him. He was nervous about Zhu, afraid the notorious officer would disagree with his conclusions and rip into him. Zhu’s reputation had preceded him, greatly exaggerated of course, as most things of that sort tend to be.
“I agree with your analysis, Captain.” Zhu was still glaring at Wu, but his tone lightened slightly. “And if we have indeed caught up to the Alliance fleet, do you in turn agree with my conclusion that Admiral Garret will engage us here…in this system?”
Wu hesitated, uncomfortable about making even more unconfirmed projections. “Yes, Admiral…I certainly consider that a serious possibility.” Another pause. “Indeed, if he is pursuing another enemy, I would expect him to want to avoid encountering them with us so closely in pursuit.”
“I agree again, Captain.” Zhu finally broke his stare and ran his eyes across the flag bridge, pausing for a few seconds before he said, “Please bring the fleet to secondary alert. All vessels are to prepare for imminent combat.”
“Yes, sir.” Wu turned to his workstation, relaying the alert to all fleet units. He was focused, but it still felt strange preparing to engage an Alliance fleet. For most of his career, it would have been the most natural activity imaginable. He had battled against Alliance forces since he graduated from the Naval Academy. But then the First Imperium attacked, and the former adversaries fought together for the first time, saving mankind in the process.
He couldn’t imagine what had gone so wrong so quickly to cause this new confrontation. The more he thought about it, the more troubled he became. But there was nothing he could do. He had his orders…and there wasn’t the slightest doubt Admiral Zhu would throw him out an airlock if he refused to carry them out. I’m sorry, Admiral Garret, he thought sadly, remembering how the Alliance’s great commander had led the combined fleet against the First Imperium enemy. He wished their forces were still together, facing a common enemy. But that wasn’t his decision, and thinking about it was pointless. Now, they were heading into battle, about to confront their former allies. And Admiral Garret was the most dangerous adversary in human space.
Augustus Garret sat quietly in his command chair, staring at the main display. He wasn’t an optimist by nature, nothing of the sort. But sometimes he couldn’t help but give in to amazement at the unending pile of shit the universe could dump on his people.
He’d done the best he could to put Terrance Compton and the other 40,000 naval crew and Marines he’d abandoned out of his mind. What he’d done in the X2 system would haunt him until the day he died, but he’d sworn not to let it interfere with his duty or degrade his effectiveness. Compton would have been the first one to scold him if he did.
Gavin Stark was behind whatever was going on…Garret was certain of that. He’d been combing Alliance space, hunting down the miserable SOB’s fleet. Whatever Stark was up to, Garret wasn’t going to leave him so much as a functioning life boat to carry it out. Stark’s ground forces appeared to be strong and numerous, but Garret was going to strand them wherever they were and cut off their supplies. He didn’t want to think of what it would cost to dig them out of so many Alliance worlds, but that was tomorrow’s problem. First he had to find Stark’s ships. And that was proving to be a difficult task.
Then he got the communique from Alliance Gov. The Alliance and the CAC were at war. Garret had to read it three times before it sunk in. He didn’t think much of the inbred politicians who ran things on Earth, but he couldn’t imagine how even they had managed to expend all the good will from the First Imperium victory and blunder into war so quickly.
Despite the news of war, Garret couldn’t imagine Admiral An leading his fleets against him so soon after they’d fought side by side. An was a cantankerous old warhorse, but deep down he was an honorable man. Then Garret got the news. An had been removed from command and replaced by Admiral Zhu. And Zhu was a world-class prick.
Garret was determined to hunt down Stark and his renegade fleet, but the CAC forces had been hot on his trail. He’d tried to shake them, but now he realized that wasn’t going to work. The last thing he wanted was to end up stuck between the two hostile fleets. So he reluctantly decided to turn and face the pursuing CAC force before continuing after Stark’s ships.
Normally, Garret wouldn’t be overly worried. Zhu was a somewhat competent officer, but he was unimaginative and deeply immersed in the conservative orthodoxy of the CAC navy. In a straight up fight, Garret was sure he could take Zhu, and probably keep his own losses at least moderately under control. But it wasn’t a straight up fight. He’d left Admiral Harmon and a thi
rd of the Alliance fleet out at X1, with orders to stay in place and make sure nothing was able to penetrate the Barrier. Worse, all the Alliance bases in the sector had been destroyed or occupied by Stark’s Shadow forces, leaving the fleet low on supplies and ordnance. He didn’t doubt that Zhu’s ships were fully stocked and loaded to the teeth with weapons, and that would give Zhu a big edge.
“Get me a direct laser com to Admiral Jacobs.” When Garret decided to fight the CAC fleet, he ordered Jacobs to take his task force into the asteroid belt and find a good place to hide. Garret was going to have to face an enemy that had parity in hulls and a massive superiority in logistics. He was going to counter that with strategy or, more accurately, trickery.
“Yes, Admiral.” Tara Rourke was the best tactical officer Garret had ever had. If she survived her battles, he had no doubt one day she’d be sitting in his chair. But for now, he was glad he had her on Pershing. She turned toward him. “I have Admiral Jacobs on Ticonderoga, sir.”
“Mike, are you in place yet?” Garret hadn’t worked closely with Jacobs for all that long, but he recognized natural talent when he saw it. He’d relied on Compton as his number two for decades and, apart from the overwhelming personal grief at his friend’s death, Garret was feeling the loss operationally as well. Terrance Compton had been the one officer Garret trusted and understood completely. It had been like having an extension of himself.
Jacobs wasn’t a replacement for Compton…no one ever could be. But Garret had been pleasantly surprised how well the two synced. Now, he was about to see how that synergy translated into action. If Compton had been there, he would have been hiding in that asteroid belt. Now it was Mike Jacobs, with some big shoes to fill.
“Yes, Admiral.” Jacob’s voice was firm, confident. He’d seen some rapid advancement over the last few years, entering the First Imperium War as the captain of a fast-attack ship. In the estimation of virtually every highly-ranked naval officer, his performance during the war rated every promotion he’d gotten. Jacobs himself, long in awe of commanders like Garret and Compton, had more trouble believing that, but whatever job he was given, he knew he would give it all he had. “I found a spread of asteroids with high-density radioactive ores, and I’ve got the task force positioned in tight behind them.” The radioactivity of the ores would mask the minimal energy outputs from his hiding ships, making it tougher to spot his force.
“Perfect.” Garret was impressed. He’d always felt that there was an X-factor to the most capable officers, an understanding they possessed that others didn’t, an instinct that gave them the insight their less gifted peers lacked. Most officers could be trained, and they could learn by experience. They could rise to fleet command and perform perfectly well. But the very best officers had that mysterious natural ability. Garret had it; Compton had it. Garret suspected Tara Rourke also had it. And now it looked like Mike Jacobs might as well. “Just lay low until I give you the word.” Garret paused for a few seconds. “And Mike, if you think things have really gone to hell out here, and you haven’t heard from me…I’m authorizing you to use your own judgment.” Garret had come to trust Jacobs more quickly than he would have thought possible a few months before.
“Yes, sir.” Jacobs’ tone softened a little. There weren’t many officers who weren’t deeply affected when Garret brought them into his inner circle. The admiral’s reputation had achieved legendary status, and an entire generation of younger officers had come up emulating the brilliant officer’s exploits. “You can count on us, sir. We’ll be ready when you need us.” Jacobs couldn’t explain Garret’s magnetism, but he knew one thing. He would die with every one of his ships before he would disappoint the admiral.
“Very well, Mike. Good luck. Garret out.”
Garret leaned back in his chair and thought silently for a few minutes. Finally, he took a deep breath and exhaled hard. It was time. He looked over at Rourke’s workstation. “OK, Tara…if you would be so kind, please bring the fleet to alert.”
Zhu sat staring at Kublai Khan’s main screen, watching the Alliance fleet in dumbstruck wonder. The admiral was a hardliner who generally bought into the notions of CAC superiority the government endlessly promoted. But facing Augustus Garret was a sobering test for his cultural orthodoxy. Even Zhu couldn’t convince himself Garret was an inferior. Deep inside, beneath the bravado and the jingoistic conditioning, he was scared to death facing the Alliance’s terrible admiral. And now he was watching in stunned silence as Garret’s ships headed off in a dozen different directions, breaking into small task forces. Fleeing.
It didn’t make any sense. It defied every maxim of war in space. But the master didn’t make foolish mistakes, which meant those ships were doing what they were doing for a good reason. But Zhu had no idea what that could be. Unless…was it possible Augustus Garret’s dreaded fleet had finally been driven too far? Were his people running for their lives?
It was going to reduce the effectiveness of his own missile barrage…that much was certain. None of Zhu’s attack plans had envisioned the Alliance fleet simply scattering, and most of his missiles were already moving at velocities too high to effectively change vectors and pursue Garret’s dispersing ships.
But it still didn’t make sense, at least not tactically. The Alliance fleet would escape one missile attack, but their units would be scattered across half the system, out of supporting range of each other. The CAC fleet could engage them piecemeal, destroying each in detail before moving on to the next. Perhaps Zhu’s earlier thought was correct…maybe the Alliance fleet’s morale was broken…or even Garret himself. Had he lost his nerve and ordered his people to flee?
Was it possible? Could the legendary Garret have made a grave error, lost control of his fleet? Zhu’s mind drifted, imagining himself as the commander who finally defeated the legendary Augustus Garret. He would go down in history as one of the greatest naval leaders who’d every lived…the man who had destroyed the colossus. The image pleased him immensely.
His eyes focused on the screen, watching the clusters of Alliance ships accelerating on their scattered vectors. He was pinpointing a small group of blue circles, one of them with a small flag next to it. Pershing. Garret’s flagship…alone with only two other capital ships and a dozen escorts nearby.
Zhu punched the keys on his own workstation, calculating distance and vectors. If he gave the orders now…if he committed totally…he could bring massive superiority to bear on Pershing’s small task force. He could destroy the Alliance flagship. And with it Fleet Admiral Augustus Garret.
“Captain Wu, the fleet will concentrate on these coordinates.” He tapped a few keys, sending the flight plan to his aide.
Wu was staring down at his screen as the figures came through. His eyes widened as he read them and plotted them on his tactical map. He looked up, trying hard to suppress his surprise. “The whole fleet, sir?”
“Yes, by God, the whole fleet.” Zhu snapped the response in a tone that discouraged any argument.
“Yes, sir.” He gulped hard but didn’t argue. Zhu’s order would concentrate the fleet just as Garret’s perfectly plotted missile strike came into range. The losses would be horrendous. Then the trajectory would take the surviving ships right past most of the Alliance fleet. And directly at Garret’s flagship.
Wu understood Zhu’s thinking, but he had a terrible feeling it was wrong. Horribly wrong. The CAC admiral was betting the Alliance fleet would disintegrate if they lost their brilliant admiral, that their morale would collapse if they heard of Garret’s death. But Wu knew the Alliance spacers better than Zhu did. He’d served alongside them in the desperate battles on the Rim. He knew firsthand how sharp a blade Garret had forged. Zhu expected the Alliance fleet to rout and flee if Garret was killed. But Wu knew that was folly. The Alliance crews would go berserk if they lost Garret…and they would fight like demons from hell for vengeance, ignoring losses, ignoring fatigue. They would come at the CAC ships with death in their hearts and a fury th
e terrified captain couldn’t even imagine.
Wu knew the admiral’s plan was ill-conceived. But he also knew he couldn’t argue. If he did, he’d be relieved at the very least. And possibly much worse. Zhu wasn’t an officer who would listen to reason, not once he’d made a decision. Wu held back a sigh and sent the order out on the fleetcom. “Flight plan has been transmitted to all ships, Admiral.” He tried to keep his voice professional, but his mind was grim. And he was afraid.
Pershing’s landing bay was eerily quiet as Chad Gravis made his way to his fighter-bomber. Gravis had served under Greta Hurley throughout the First Imperium War, initially as a squadron leader and later in command of a strike wing. He’d learned his trade from Hurley, and he’d learned it well.
Hurley was the unchallenged master of small-craft battle tactics, the officer who’d led the most massive bomber attacks in history against the fleets of the First Imperium. But Hurley wasn’t there to command the strike force. She’d been attached to Terrance Compton’s half of Grand Fleet during the battles at X2, and she was trapped with him behind the Barrier…consigned to whatever fate the universe had bestowed on the Alliance admiral and his people.
Gravis felt the shadow of Hurley looking over him, the massive shoes she’d left behind for someone to fill. Now he would have to try those shoes on…he was about to command a ragtag remnant of those massive attack wings she had led.
The squadrons had suffered crippling losses during the desperate battles on the Line and out on the frontier. There had been no time to train pilots or build bombers and, as the allied fleet contingents departed when Grand Fleet dispersed, they took their own decimated wings with them.