And now he was subordinate to the unaltered human bitch from the Empire that was the senior partner in the alliance. An intruder, an outsider. With a smaller force than his own. Yet the president, his own cousin, had betrayed him and taken the chance to redeem himself as fleet commander away.
“What have they done to their ships?” he asked as he looked at the holo. There were strange projections all over the hull, as well as what looked like reactor cooling units on the outside. It would boost their reactor power for a limited time, but it made the ships much more vulnerable in a close in slugging match. What was worse, the humans had not shared their plans with him. He had no idea what those devices on the ships were supposed to do. He only knew what the human admiral expected him to do.
“Our analysts are studying them, sir,” said his chief of staff, Captain Freedrich Gammara. “We have some guesses at to what they might be, but have no idea what they will be used for.”
“And how is the planning coming for my counterstroke?” asked the admiral, turning narrowing eyes on his subordinate. The captain was not his most recent chief of staff, but an assignment from fleet.
“Are you sure that plan is a good idea, sir? If the human admiral doesn't know what we are doing, we're liable to hinder more than help.”
“And you are to do as I say, Captain. If you don't want to find your ass on a shuttle back to the capital with a letter of reprimand in your personnel file.”
“Yes, sir,” said the other officer, snapping to attention. “Yours to command.”
“Remember that,” said the admiral, pushing down his rising rage. “I will win this battle. This idiot doesn't know what she is doing, and her fantasy play will lead to defeat. That is when I will come in and route the Monsters.
Klanarat took a quick walk around his flag bridge. He wasn't used to the luxury of space this new class of ship gave him. It was almost an exact copy of the New Terran Empire standard hyper VII battleship. A much more powerful unit than any he had commanded in the last battle. He still had some of those older units in his order of battle. In time they would be replaced by this class, but for the moment their weren't enough building slips to completely swap out the ships. If not for the losses in the last battle, he would have had a majority of the older units.
“Make sure that all of my group commanders get the plan before we go through the wormhole.”
“But, the human admiral is insisting on com security. Nothing to be transmitted until we reach the other side of the wormhole.”
“And she is not in charge of my force,” growled the admiral. “I am in charge here, not her. So do what I say.”
“Yes, sir.”
Klanarat thought that this Alpha was one that would bear close watching. His last chief of staff had been so agreeable. Not so much this one. Klanarat wouldn't have been surprised if Captain Gammara hadn't been ordered by the president to keep close watch on his senior officer.
“Get me the chief of security,” said Klanarat into the air after the chief of staff had left the bridge.
“Commander Walatch,” answered the Klavarta warrior, his nightmare face looking out of the holo.
“I have some orders for you, Walatch. Concerning one of my new officers. And you are to follow them to the letter without question. Understood?”
Chapter Three
To state the facts frankly is not to despair the future nor indict the past. The prudent heir takes careful inventory of his legacies and gives a faithful accounting to those whom he owes an obligation of trust. John F. Kennedy
“Be careful with that thing,” yelled Captain Henri Francois-Ramirez over the com to the crew who were busy wrestling one of the precious wormholes off the ship.
He was anxious, extremely so, since at the moment the eight of the ten wormholes he had carried into this space were still aboard his ship. They were residing in the stern hangar bay, held in armored cradles that would protect them from most bumps and bruises. Of course, if the destroyer were taken out by a ship killer, or a laser hit breached the reactors, nothing would protect them.
They had already lost nine of the precious portals. The captain thought it had been good fortune that the Cacas hadn't hit one of the destroyers that had ten, about half his command. They still had that extra wormhole that would have been lost if, say, Zulu had been killed. Not that it was much comfort to anyone, himself included, that an entire crew had died in an instant.
“Sasha,” yelled out an engineering petty officer. “Make sure that you have that grapple secure before you start trying to move your side.”
Henri watched as the admonished rating triple checked the connection of her grapple, then made a hand motion at the other crewman securing the opposite side of the wormhole.
The wormholes themselves were less than a millimeter in diameter at this point. Small holes were unstable, and needed to be handled with care. Once they had inflated to about ten centimeters their stability increased ten fold. It was a trade off. The smaller holes could be better protected, and so these had come across in the smallest form that was still somewhat stable.
It was a lonely feeling being out here in so much emptiness, the only friendly ship for hundreds of millions of kilometers. Hopefully the only ship, thought the anxious commander. Soon that would change, and though it probably wouldn't save Zulu if an enemy located and fired on them from close range. Still, company was comforting.
“That ones out,” stated the exec, Lt. Commander Crystal Ngursky, monitoring the same take from CIC.
“I concur,” replied the chief engineer, Lt. Commander Daphne Suarez, who was actually suited up and on the hangar deck.
I can see that for myself, thought Henri, looking over at the sensor readouts that showed the one meter wide container floating away from the ship on the proper trajectory. Cold gas jets flared to change its orientation and move it where the humans wanted it to be. A minute or so into its burn it deceled, coming to a relative stop in space away from the destroyer that was still coasting away.
It was unfair to get aggravated at his people for doing their jobs. The reason so many eyes were on the procedure was to make sure that mistakes were caught before they could become disasters.
I just wish Gloria were here, he thought, picturing his new wife in his mind for a moment. It would be a comfort to be able to talk to her. Then again, given the extreme risk of this mission, he thought it selfish of him to want her on it along with him. He didn't think she would agree with that sentiment. She would want to share the risks with him.
“Another one out,” called out Suarez.
“Confirmed,” replied Ngursky, her own tone calm and soothing. “Unit is on proper trajectory. Jets functioning within parameters.”
So far, so good, thought Henri, letting out a breath. He looked over at the feeds from the other ships, ten more destroyers performing the same evolutions. So far no major mishaps. A few close calls, though the captain had to admit that even those close calls probably wouldn't have amounted to anything.
“Com coming in from the Admiral,” called out Lt. JG Tangana Kenyata, looking over at the captain, making sure the man heard him.
No need to ask which admiral the com officer was talking about. He checked the timer before connecting, seeing that he was slightly behind schedule.
“Update, Captain,” said Beata Bednarczyk, looking out of the com holo hanging in the air.
One wormhole would be retained aboard each of the destroyers until the flagship that was to carry it was alongside. Of course their Klassekians could maintain the coms, but not with the bandwidth offered by the wormholes.
“We're down to the last three holes on my ship, ma'am,” replied Henri, fighting to keep his voice steady as he reported his inability to stick to the timetable. “We'll have them all out and ready within two minutes.”
“And your other ships?” asked the woman in a tone that would cut ice. “I'm receiving reports that some of them are not as far advanced on the timetable.”
> “Five minutes at most, ma'am. If you want we can start to expand your travel gates.”
“That would be best. Get those gates expanded and we'll give you some company.”
To do the job I'm failing at, thought the over-anxious officer.
He doubted it would come to that. This was something brand new, and they hadn't received sufficient training time to make it an automatic process. Still, he had obviously disappointed the closest thing to God on this front, and that disappointment could make or break his career. Francois-Ramirez stared nervously at the viewer as the last of the wormholes was ejected from the ship.
A quick glance showed that four of the ships still had work ahead before they divested themselves of their holes. At least Zulu would not be among the laggards. That might mean something. Or not.
“We've started to expand the first gate, sir,” called out the chief engineer.
Henri zoomed the viewer in on that action, watching as what was a four meter by four meter square grew before his eyes. Eight meters, then twelve, as new sections were fed through the wormhole, attaching themselves to the frame and stretching it out. There were slight pauses every couple of seconds to allow negative matter to be ejected into the frame, filling the magnetic field. Their repulser effect was what kept the wormhole open, while the rip in space tried to snap closed. The captain wished they could speed up the process, but any leaking negative matter would cancel out the matter of the frame, and the whole thing would collapse on itself.
“Almost there,” said the chief engineer, tension filling his tone.
The gate was currently a hundred meters on a side. Smaller craft could now come through, but no one would think of bringing anything large thought until the gate was much larger.
“That's it,” called out the exec.
The gate now filled the screen, only slightly less dark than the space around it. The grabber units were barely pulling any power, just enough to keep it steady. Undetectable at anything over a couple of light seconds.
Is there anything within that range, lying hidden and waiting? thought Henri, a chill running up his spine at the thought that they might be deploying into a trap out here. If there were enemy ships near he would know in a second, when they started grav pulsing messages, or opening fire without warning. At close range it would only take minutes from launch to strike. With luck, from the admiral's point of view, those shots would hit destroyers and not gates. Henri didn't think that way, though it was his job to make sure that was the outcome.
“Second gate at fifty percent.”
The captain glanced over at another viewer. They would deploy two gates at each point. They would leave one open even after all the ships had come through, while the other was repurposed to a launcher. Then nine ships at each location would take wormholes aboard and become the launch platforms, while the gates handled the mass launches, if needed, from normal space on their end.
“Ships are requesting permission to transit the first gate,” called out the com officer.
The captain double checked the plot, making sure that there was nothing that might get in the way of the transiting ships. He only had his ship in the area, as well as a half dozen engineering pods set to rescue any wormholes that might lose power and drift away. Really nothing that could get in the way, but it paid to be sure. If a ship came coasting through the portal only to run over a wormhole there would be hell to pay.
“Permission granted. Transmit a take of everything in our local neighborhood.” Then it was up to the captains and helms of those vessels to make sure they deployed properly.
“First ship transiting, sir.”
The nose of the first vessel poked through the mirrored surface of the portal. Normally ships transiting would move through in a flash. Not up to relativistic speed, but fast enough that ships from hundreds of meters to a couple of kilometers in length were through in under a second. The first ship, a heavy cruiser a kilometer in length, crawled through in ten seconds. With infinitesimal bursts of energy to its grabber units it started to veer to port, moving to its assigned parking station. One of the wormholes was soon moving toward the cruiser that would be carrying it into the battle.
Five seconds later another heavy cruiser was through. Followed by another, then a series of light cruisers. Normally capital ships would have started through by this time. The admiral had other plans for them, and none would be coming into the outer system deployment points.
“Permission given to access the battle plan,” said the exec, reading the order on a screen in CIC.
Henri pulled up the same order on a repeater screen and sucked in a deep breath as he read the plan. He had thought it unusual to go into a campaign without a full briefing, though the rumors of leaks had explained that order. Now, reading the insanity of the plan, Henri now wondered if the reason the plan hadn't been discussed with subordinate commanders was because command knew there would be a number of refusals and resignations. He had to admit, if the plan worked, it was truly brilliant, something that had never been tried before. If it didn't, Admiral Bednarczyk would go down in the history holos as the most insane military leader of all time.
The parade went on for hours, ships coming through. Cruisers, destroyers, fast attack craft, finally swarms of warp fighters. Every entry point had a number of human ships, some of which would carry the wormholes. All also had their alien contingents, mostly Klavarta, followed by a number of Slarna. After a period of seven hours all of the vessels that were to be deployed outside the system were in place.
Now it was a waiting game, one which no commander enjoyed. Even in shock at the revealed battle-plan, everyone wanted to get on with it. Even the supreme commander.
* * *
Beata thought there could be no officer more anxious than herself. All of her human capital ships were with her, sitting in the Black Hole system of the core Supersystem. Along with every one of the largest and most advanced of the Klavarta ships and some selected vessels. Even though some of the larger allied ships were the flags of their formations, their commanding admirals were assigned to the outer formations. Sean hadn't wanted to risk sacrificing all of the allied heavies. In one instance an allied commander had been assigned to her, along with his battle squadron, for several reasons.
First, she needed his capital ships for the shield as they were calling it. And secondly, she wanted him on hand so she could keep a close watch on him. If there was anyone who had earned her distrust, it was Admiral Klanarat. Of course, the people sitting here in the Supersystem still didn't know the plan. She was waiting for the protests to fill her com channels as soon as the plan was revealed. Since only the Klavarta would accompany her into the fire, and she had the agreement of their president to her plan, she didn't think she would have too much trouble with Klanarat. Still, she was sure he would be calling her over and over again with his protests.
That's what com officers are for, she thought with a tight smile. Oh, she would take his coms if they had anything important in them, and trusted her officers to make that decision.
“Any updates on enemy dispositions?” she asked her chief of staff.
“As far as we can tell, they're still where they have been,” said Captain Janssen, staring at the screen in front of his station. “We have ninety-five percent confidence as concerns their real ships and their decoys.”
“Ninety-five, eh? Well, I guess that will just have to do.”
There was some tension relieving laughter on the flag bridge. Beata was glad to hear it. There was enough pressure on everyone. They were expected to save an entire planet and the billions of sentients that lived on it. Then turn around and defeat an enemy fleet that out classed hers in both mass and firepower.
But not in quality of tech or crews, she thought, shaking her head. The Empire had started out the war a decade behind the Cacas. Now they were slightly ahead, far ahead in some areas. And humans on average were just brighter than Cacas, and intelligence when operating high tech devices
was not something to be discounted. However, as one past leader that the Emperor liked to quote had said, quantity had a quality all its own.
When it came to the quality of the commander? That was an open question. Beata liked to think that she was more than a mental match for any Caca, and she had spanked this one in the last battle. Which proved nothing. The intelligence given them by their alien allies within the Ca'cadasan Empire gave her a good appreciation for the quality of the Great Admiral. She felt great responsibility that the secret of the Maurids had been revealed to her. Not that it was that great a secret anymore, with the fierce aliens now in open revolt against their masters. But intelligence services operated out of habit, and Sergiov would go to her grave before any information dubbed secret passed her lips to unapproved sources. At least she didn't have to worry about Maurid ground troops appearing on this front, though ground combat was the least of her worries at the moment.
Great Admiral Mrastaran Hlrata. Two thousand four hundred years old, which made him mid to late middle age in the typical lifespan of his species. A close cousin in the Imperial family, holding a position in the succession somewhere between fourth and tenth. Under the old emperor that would have been a secure position, ensuring his survival no matter his success on the battlefield. Under the new one, the youth rumored to have killed his own father, any moves that looked threatening would ensure nothing less than death, for the admiral and his whole family.
Fucking barbarians, thought Beata, shaking her head. They needed to defeat this Empire once and for all. Not wipe out the species. That was something Sean would not countenance, even if the majority of the people in his Empire called for it.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 16: The Shield. Page 4