Opening Moves

by James Traynor

  Chen cracked his knuckles. It sounded like breaking twigs. “Given the overall volatile nature of the situation? You could say I've got a hunch.”

  “This escalation is in nobody's interest,” Campbell stated flatly. “We had to send out ships to Orion, and you know that as well as anybody else.”

  “My principal is in agreement with that point, but the decision to react with military movements was a political one, not a strategic one.” Chen stared at his wobbling reflection in the canal's waters. “Just as your government's statements in the follow up have been political, not necessarily factual.”

  Campbell could feel the slight smile on the Alliance agent's face and his mouth tightened. Not at his words, but at their irrefutable veracity. “The President needed to soothe some domestic aches. Some people called for a stronger response to your criticism.”

  The auburn haired spy unwrapped a pack of cigarettes and lit one, deeply inhaling the fumes. “Come the next elections your Secretary Randolph will be gunning for the presidency. We've noted his willingness to play this crisis for his own ends. My principal is wary of the price he seems to be willing to pay for his ambitions.”

  “I'm more concerned about who it will be who pays that price. The President had to smooth some of the waves. Would've been nice had your employers followed her example.”

  Chen shrugged, not looking at him. “I don't need to lay out the foreign policy reasons as to why the Chairman did not follow her lead. In this day and age no political statement by a leader of a superpower is ever only domestic. The last thing the Europeans or the Alliance will do is show apparent signs of weakness and indecision in the face of large scale Union military movements.”

  Showing weakness was a fatal mistake when your main focus was on keeping together nations comprised of dozens of cultures, some of them greatly different. That vast reservoir of people, ideas and resources was one of the driving forces of progress and competition, but also of instability. And with hundreds of millions of lives depending on stability, nobody could afford that weakness.

  “But I suppose you haven't arranged for this little gathering just to go over moot points again? Otherwise my principal might grow suspicious of the concord you and she have.” Chen formed a ring with his cigarette smoke and blew it across the canal where it faded in the wind. He took a deep breath. “The air smells like snow. Reminds me of home.”

  Given that Chen came from the almost tropical south of China, Campbell had good reason to doubt that. But he respected the subtle craft of the man a few paces away from him.

  Chen shot him a brief glance over his shoulder. “It's about the war, isn't it?” He drew on his cigarette. “That seems to be the main topic nobody's speaking about these days. What do you suggest?”

  Campbell had to hide a smile. Chen's words could just as well have been spoken by a female voice, so much did they resemble Xixi Wenbiao's straightforward style. As much as the woman at the top of the Alliance's fearsome intelligence apparatus was renowned for her ability to set in motion the most subtle and layered plots, as little patience did she have when the cards were on the table. “I don't really put much stock into the war itself. Too far away for any of us to really matter,” he explained curtly. “But it might prove to be just what's needed to deescalate this situation. The President's been... persuaded to send a ship to observe what's going on. But nobody's told her just where exactly to send it, or that's it supposed to be a recon vessel. That's where your employer would come in.”

  “I'm listening,” Chen flipped the cigarette bud into the water.

  “Tanith.”

  “The name rings a bell.”

  “Trade hub world in the Pact. Still close to the front lines, though it's unlikely there'll be any real danger. Seems as if it's home to a human expat population numbering in the thousands: Indies, former Euros, Union and Alliance citizens. If the Union Navy were to evacuate them unilaterally that would just fan the flames, but...”

  “But if both the Alliance and the Union send ships...” Chen continued his line of thought.

  “It'd be most helpful if it appeared to both the Chairman and President Solwyn that they came to that conclusion independently,” Campbell looked up at Chen for the first time. “And I'm rather confident that your principal can arrange for that, should she so desire.”

  “I think I'm not out of line to tell you that she desires an escalation between the Alliance and the Union as little as you do,” Chen acknowledged, then paused for a moment before he nodded briskly. “I'll submit your proposal to her.”

  “Pass on my best regards to your principal. It's always a pleasure dealing professionally with her.”

  Chen pulled his scarf closer and shuddered. “I will. Enjoy feeding your ducks, Director.” He walked away, his footsteps on the shifting hard gravel getting quieter as he departed and vanished from sight.

  Campbell looked down on the half empty bag of breadcrumbs, a wry smile dancing across his face. What he had just done would be utterly incomprehensible to the ordinary John Doe on the street. But in the cloak and dagger world of secret services and international politics, sometimes the most trustworthy ally was your most steadfast opponent.

  Érenni Central Command

  Akvô, Home world of the Érenni Republics.

  “Another freighter leaving,” Mairwen observed as a small blue icon vanished from Central Command's giant holoplot. “And I don't blame them.”

  “It's good for us that they're gone,” Gwythyr stood next to her, his formal ambassador's attire replaced by an admiral's uniform in his clanhold's colors.

  Mairwen thought he looked decidedly more comfortable in in the dark clue, crimson and gray camouflage pattern than in his civilian clothes.

  “Means fewer civilians in orbit to defend.” Gwythyr kept his eyes on the central holotank. During the past weeks he had done everything he could to prepare for the coming battle. But he was just one person, and he doubted that even a lifetime of military experience could outweigh what the Dominion would soon throw their way. In the end it would be a matter of how high the Ashani pain threshold would be. If these past months were any indication he would be foolish to expect them to run from anything short of their own complete destruction.

  Central Command was filled not only with row after row of military personnel manning terminals, but like a gallery observation rooms on higher levels surrounded this central node of the system's defenses. Most of the senior government members of the republics, including the Natar herself, the leader of her people, watched from above. Mairwen thought it only appropriate she was here. The actions taken in this room would decide whether or not her people would continue to live in the galaxy or whether the coming days would be their last.

  “Our forces have been deployed,” Gwythyr continued, ignoring her contemplative stance. “Two thirds over home world and the rest at the colony.”

  The third planet had had a substantial civilian population before most of the people had been relocated to Akvô itself. Had Gwythyr had any say in that he would have opted for sending those millions out to the smaller colonies, farther away from the frontlines, but that had been before necessity had put him into a position where it was he, the alien outsider, who effectively was in command of the system's defenses. Now, those millions crowded the already sparse fallout shelters and public bunkers.

  Still, the colony was probably as well defended as Senfina had been, and his plan had seen to it that it had a much larger naval force in orbit. That way he would have a mobile reserve able to fall onto the enemy's flank regardless of which target the Dominion chose to attack first. In theory, that was.

  Akvô itself was the fourth planet of the system. Here the lion's share of the defenses and the bulk of the Érenni population waited for the inevitable clash. Its orbital networks of mines, platforms, stations and now warships formed a concentric series of ramparts from which the defenders could fight. At its heart was the fully operational Fathal-class battle station, the s
ister of Senfina's unfinished command post. It was in stable orbit above the capital city, covering the government and military command centers, including the building Mairwen was in right now. Central Command, for all its technological sophistication, was buried only a hundred meters beneath the planet's lush surface. There just hadn't been more time to find and excavate a more secure location. It was only marginally more secure than the original location on the surface. A direct hit by even a small nuclear warhead would spell the doom of all inside. The original builders hadn't even contemplated the idea of a direct attack on it.

  “Our recon flights showed virtually no Dominion ships at Ampleksa and Senfina,” Mairwen mentioned with forced calmness. “We believe every ship on that front is heading here.”

  “Probably,” the Tuathaan agreed somberly, aware that Mairwen, deep inside, had hoped for another answer. But this wasn't the time for indulging illusion. “They'll concentrate all their power here if they can, and use their best commander. We're looking at two thousand, maybe two and a half thousand enemy warships. The single largest armada ever assembled. A glorious sight if I didn't have the dubious honor of being at their weapons' receiving end,” he grinned wryly. “We spotted a ship leaving Toklamakun for here, too. It's the same one that was present leading their forces at both Dunnan Gal and the Second Battle of Báine.” He didn't need to mention the catastrophic losses the Tuathaan Clanholds had suffered in both engagements. Whoever was coming for them now knew damn well what he was doing.

  Mairwen nodded sympathetically. “Do we know which strategos it is?”

  “Not yet, but we have our suspicions, especially after witnessing the use of biological weapons.” Mairwen knew that signature. Before normalcy collapsed, the Érenni Republics had had a reputation as information brokers which meant they usually knew a bit more than everybody else. However, that trait hadn't really prepared them for the situation they now found themselves in. “Strategos Corr'tane, head of the Dominion's bioweapons research program and the man who headed the invasion of Aetu.”

  “That's what we thought,” Gwythyr agreed with a sigh. “The Aetu told some lurid stories about him. The few that survived and escaped, that is.”

  “I remember they called him 'Blightbringer'. I always thought that was a bit dramatic. Now I think it's only too fitting a name,” Mairwen frowned. “That man is the most prolific killer in history now. After the coming days he might even be able to add my species to his list of kills,” she added glumly.

  “That will not happen,” Gwythyr replied firmly, placing his rough-skinned hand on her slender arm. “We have a robust defense designed to bleed the Ashani dry before they ever reach orbit. This world will not fall.”

  Mairwen looked down on him, a weak smile dancing around her lips. It wasn't much, but it was a smile after all. She took his fingers and gave them a gentle squeeze. It was a comfort to know that in all this something good had risen, too.

  A warning chime came from a console nearby. Its operator quickly spoke into her headset announcing her words across the whole room.

  “Massive thermal bleed-out detected in sectors forty to forty-seven!”

  A second chime sounded, and a moment later two more. Suddenly the whole chamber was ringing with noise and rapid reports as sensor stations lit up throughout Central Command. The large central holoplot began to display red icons in a torrent that didn't seem to end.

  “That's it then,” Mairwen said flatly, letting go of the smaller alien's finger. “It begins.”

  Dreadnought CLAWBLADE, 3rd Dominion Fleet

  “Fleets deploying as predicted,” Captain Pryatan, Corr'tane's executive officer, reported calmly. The Ashani had massed the better parts of four fleets for this assault. Hovering in the void of the Érenni's home system were over two fifths of their total strength, two thousand and nine hundred vessels in total. It was the greatest gathering of force for millennia. Somewhere out there with 7th Fleet was the newly promoted Strategos Pyshana, her new badges of rank still gleaming and with a scent of polish to them. She would be part of the attack on the home world itself, while Corr'tane would lead a third of their forces against the colony.

  “Condition of the Republican defenses?” Corr'tane asked calmly.

  “Extensive,” Pryatan replied curtly. “Looks like most of their ships are in orbit of the two planets behind the defenses. Long range sensors put them at around seven hundred warships.”

  “Tied to the gravity wells,” he nodded. “Good. We'll open up the attack on the colony immediately; see if we can draw some ships from the home world.” Assaulting the fixed defenses would be more challenging than removing the Tuathaan fleet, but Corr'tane had no intention of getting too close. Senfina had been too costly a victory, in his opinion, and it went against every fiber of his being to waste good Ashani lives if it could be reasonably avoided.

  “Engineering units, move to the asteroid belts and prepare your charges”, he ordered. “Missile ships move into position and stand by. All other ships hold positions.”

  Érenni Central Command

  “They don't waste time,” Gwythyr grimaced, pointing at the moving red icons. “They'll hit the colony first, but do you see these units moving here? They're setting up a perimeter to cut off any reinforcements we send.”

  “Or survivors fleeing,” Mairwen added somberly. While she appreciated the layout of the forces, the actual strategy and tactics were an alien concept to her. She grasped why concentrating their defenses was a good thing, but the science of warfare eluded her, and in a way she was pleased.

  “I was afraid they'd do something like this.” He picked up a tablet and zoomed in on the Dominion's blockade force. A silent curse slipped from his lips. “No, we won't be able to challenge them. That force is about as strong as the mobile reserves we've got in orbit here. If we move out to face them we'll win nothing. Damn it!” he growled angrily. Almost three thousand enemy ships. The logistics alone to send such a force into action were staggering. He shuddered and shook his head. This wasn't the time for being impressed by the enemy's feats. The fighter inside Gwythyr, still raw and fierce after decades and decades of combat, was urging him to rush out and meet the Ashani in battle, to take them head on in glorious combat and earn eternal fame for himself. But the admiral within, calm and experienced through those same decades of fighting, urged caution. These were Érenni ships and crews, not Tuathaan, and the penalties of losing this battle were beyond imagining. He had to work to his strengths and try to balance out the weaknesses. If only he had the mobile forces to turn this from a purely reactive situation into the dance he had so loved as a youngster...

  “We have drive signatures moving towards us and the colony,” an officer warned.

  “Their ships aren't moving,” Gwythyr pointed out.

  “I'm trying to get a better picture.” The operator selected a sensor platform closer to the happenings and accessed its data. She stared at her readouts for a long silent moment. “Asteroids,” she breathed.

  The Tuathaan officer whirled around to face her. “What?!”

  “They must've strapped fusion torches on several dozen asteroids. They're coming our way!”

  Gwythyr rushed over to her console and glared at the displays. “Bloody hell,” he muttered sourly, then looked back at Mairwen. “They're going to rip paths into our minefields. Worse still, those that get through them will expose our defense platforms. We can't risk a large asteroid impact on either planet.” The balls of dust and heavy elements slowly tumbled towards the defensive perimeters of Akvô and her colony. Soon, icons flashed across the holoplot as the asteroids entered the minefields. Gwythyr cursed again. “They've rigged the asteroids to break up.” Like buckshot the natural projectiles tore through the layers of contact mines in all directions until nuclear fire had burned every scrap of them up. It left wide gashes in the outer defenses. “Seems they've learned a few lessons from Senfina,” he muttered unhappily. Closer to the colony, missile traces now crossed the void. �
�See how they're deploying their missile ships early to clear the way?”

  “Not really,” Mairwen apologized weakly. “I'm so sorry, it's all beyond my understanding. I'm no use here!”

  “Yes, you are,” the gruff Tuathaan answered. “As this battle goes on I'll have to make some tough decisions and issue hard orders. Your people might not accept those orders from me, an outsider. But if you are here then they must.”

  “What sort of orders?” she asked, not really wanting to know.

  “Orders to fire, despite their line of sight being blocked by civilian ships, to stay in formation when their comrades are dying all around, to protect their area of space and ignore the burning cities beneath them. To act like soldiers, and not Érenni.”

  “To become coldhearted killing machines,” Mairwen said flatly.

  “Exactly. Because that's what it will take to save your people,” Gwythyr in an equally flat tone. “Prepare yourself, Mairwen. For even if we survive to fight another day, nothing will be the same after this.”

  Dreadnought CLAWBLADE, 3rd Dominion Fleet

  1st Day of the Attack.

  “Status of enemy defenses?”

  “We've used the asteroid strikes to map a significant part of their minefields, sir,” Captain Pryatan reported. “The Érenni are moving in mines from the rest of the field, but we're tracking those. We have two paths almost four thousand kilometers in diameter, more than eighty percent through the colony's main field.”