Exodus: Empires at War: Book 16: The Shield.

by Doug Dandridge

  “And I don't,” said Mgonda, his expression flat. “So give me the go ahead and he can catch up.”

  “Sorry, Duke Taelis, said Sean, shaking his head. “I will not let you forge on ahead with an extra exposed flank.” Of course there would be exposed flanks, with both fleets. That couldn't be helped. But the one between them was something that could be avoided, and Sean would avoid it if at all possible.

  “But..”

  “That's my final word, your Grace,” shouted Sean. “Play by my rules, or I'll find someone else to lead that fleet.”

  * * *

  That young fool. Who does he think he is, threatening me? thought Mgonda, biting off the retort that would probably have beached him despite his ability to lead the fleet. He took a deep breath, looking at the face of his monarch in the holo. Sean was silent, obviously giving Mgonda time to think.

  He's the man you swore your oaths to, thought the Duke, closing his eyes for a moment. You swore to obey his commands at any cost, up to and including your life. So it's about time you honored your oaths and stopped skirting insubordination.

  “Yes, your Majesty. Your Fleet, your rules, and mine to serve.”

  “I'm sorry Duke. I didn't want to get into a shouting match with you. You are one of my best commanders, and I need you. But I will not stand for having my orders questioned.”

  “And you shouldn't, your Majesty,” agreed Mgonda, nodding. “It won't happen again. Believe me.” Mgonda had been thinking of retirement just the other day, but he didn't want to lose his command on the verge of victory.

  Sean nodded, then cut the transmission. Mgonda stared into the air for a moment before looking back at the plot. It was set to the system where the Cacas had sprung their ambush. Thankfully he hadn't lost much, and the ships he had there were making quick work of them.

  Thanks Len, he thought, picturing his old friend and reminding himself to give him a com to try and lift his spirits. Len had taken it on the chin, but in doing so he had alerted the rest of the fleet to the Caca's plan.

  * * *

  “Shadow has reported in, your Majesty,” said Ekaterian Sergiov over the com holo. “He would like to talk to you himself.”

  “Then tell him to get in touch with me,” said Sean. He was starting to feel a little overwhelmed at the moment, but was willing to give the Maurid leader some time. He was important to the Empire, despite controlling no fleets.

  “I have him on the com if you want to talk with him now.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Another holo opened in the air to the side of Sergiov's. The long snouted face that looked out at him, obsidian eyes looking into his, was the leader of the Maurid resistance to the Cacas. Shadow's facial fur, like the rest of his body, was jet black. Maurids came in all colors, orange, tan, striped. Even pure black and solid white, though those colors were relatively rare. No matter the color, every single one of them was a deadly killer, and even seeing one through a holo sent a chill down Sean's spine. He thought he might be able to take one hand to hand, though his Secret Service Detail would not allow such. His friend Cornelius had killed several in hand to hand. Then again, Cornelius had killed Cacas with his bare hands as a demonstration of human superiority.

  “Your Majesty,” said the alien in good Terranglo, slightly slurring the words. “It is good to see you again. And once again, I want to thank you for what you have done for my people.”

  Sean nodded, thinking about what he had done for them. The Cacas, or at least their new Emperor, had decided that the Maurid species needed to be exterminated after their treachery against his empire had been revealed. The Fleet had invaded several Maurid worlds, killing the Cacas and liberating the Maurids. Being what they were, the Maurids had joined in the fight with a relish. And then the Cacas had tried to pull a trap on the Fleet by threatening a Maurid world with extermination by nova. The Fleet had won that fight, taking out the projection ships at the last moment, and saving billions of Maurids in the process.

  There were still Maurid worlds under Caca occupation. The Cacas were bombarding them from space, knowing better than to land troops on the surface. They had also shown restraint in killing the systems, probably because the Empire was in no position to try a rescue attempt. Still, billions of Maurids had been saved, and the aliens were showing their gratitude in supporting the Empire fully.

  “I have sent the word out for my agents to start asking about, hoping that some of the native populations have heard about the Caca ambushes. I doubt there is anything there, but those in space have probably seen indications of the construction of hiddy holes. It will take some time to get the message into Caca space, but with your help, it can be done.”

  “That's a tall order, Shadow,” said Sean, shaking his head. “Anything we send to a system in Caca space will be tracked. I think it a better idea to send some of your people along with the Fleet. We can drop them on the planet and let them do their work, while others go to whatever stations and mines are in that system.”

  “That will work,” said Shadow, grinning. “I would request that some of your people come along with each of my teams. Your intelligence operatives, maybe some of your Rangers.”

  “I'll get you some people, Shadow.”

  “I would like to have Walborski on my personal team.” said the still grinning alien. “I would learn more of you humans, and he is a good teacher. If he's available.”

  “He is now.”

  * * *

  “You have a priority com, General,” called out the secretary from the outer office.

  Brigadier General the Duke Cornelius Walborski swore under his breath, wondering what fool had something stupid to say to him now. This assignment seemed to go on forever. Sean had promised him he wouldn't see action again, but he had hoped that the Emperor would change his mind. Instead, he had been watching, supervising, others train for front line action, while he wrestled with the paperwork of the training command.

  The concept of the training was interesting. Augmented humans and normal Maurids working to mesh into units that could be sent on infiltration missions. There had been training in and out of suits for both species. Most of the missions would be run on planets with breathable atmospheres, but there was always the possibility of infiltration through airless moons and asteroids. So far the training had been going well, and the first units were almost ready for deployment. Maurids and augmented Rangers were of a kind, cold blooded killers with a code of honor. They got along well, despite their obvious differences.

  “Who is it?” asked Cornelius, expecting to hear the name of some supply officer or such, telling him that they were out of the meat that Maurid's preferred.

  “The Emperor,” said the secretary, her voice hushed.

  “Your Majesty,” said Sean into the air, establishing the connection.

  “Duke Cornelius,” said Sean, his smiling face appearing on the holo. “We are having some new problems with the Cacas on our front. Shadow is working on getting intelligence, and he has requested you.”

  “Another desk job?” asked Walborski in distaste.

  “A field assignment. I wouldn't have called on you, except that Shadow seems to respect your abilities for some reason.”

  Walborski smiled. At one time he would have thought that he would never have liked or trusted a Maurid. He had seen them kill people on Azure in a very brutal manner. Not that he wasn't brutal himself, but he didn't tend to leave body parts scattered about. Having worked with Shadow, lived with him really for weeks at a time, his perspective had changed. He had found Maurids to be very family oriented, loyal to a fault with those they saw as friends, possessing many admirable qualities. And they were the best natural hunters and killers he had ever been around.

  “I look forward to working with the leader of our alien allies, your Majesty.”

  “I was hoping you would feel that way. Get your kit together, kiss Devra and your children goodbye, and get out to the forward Fleet base as fast as you can. Sean out
.”

  Cornelius was grinning from ear to ear as his Emperor and friend's holo disappeared. He took a look around his office, a place he had never come to love. A field assignment. Maybe not one that allowed him to kill Cacas, directly. However, if it allowed others to kill them in the future, he would consider it a job well done.

  * * *

  “They've turned the damned wormholes our way, ma'am,” called out the tactical officer.

  “Should have figured,” replied Mara, looking at the viewer that was showing the enemy fleet as it was, two hours before.

  Even as she watched the surface of a portal rippled, and effect that went on for some time. The sign that fast moving objects were coming through, at too high a velocity to be visible. Missiles. The other wormholes were also turned, and the plot showed the aiming point to be her other forces. They had decided that she had become too much of a nuisance, and were attempting to swat her.

  “ETA?”

  “The missiles should be coming at us at point nine light, over two hours. Which means they will traverse that distance in two point two two hours. So say, approximately thirteen point two minutes till they get here.”

  Mara glared at the officer who had taken too much time giving her details she didn't need.

  “All ships go into defensive formation Charlie Three,” she ordered one of her com officers. Looking over at another she shouted out another order. “Get the information to the other forces.”

  The other forces were slightly further from the enemy, and would still be some minutes before they had a visual on what Mara had already seen. A little bit of an additional heads up couldn't hurt. Especially as all three forces had four gates open and were accepting ships from the black hole system. That made the wormholes vulnerable, and some of the ships coming through weren't very good at defending themselves.

  Battleships were coming through, along with destroyers and light cruisers, dedicated missile defense ships. The majority of the vessels were logistics ships, carrying mines and missiles. The ones that had already transited were busy placing mines, portable missile launchers, out in front and to the side of her fleet. That made them very vulnerable to what was coming in, and none of those ships weren't fast by any respect.

  “Get those ships back into the fleets. Fastest boost. And I want more destroyers out there covering them.”

  Destroyers and cruisers were something she had an abundance of, since almost all the lighter ships in the fleet had been given to her. The destroyers were spread wide around her force, most facing the enemy. The light cruisers were closer in, defending her heavies, some of which had her wormhole launchers.

  “All warp fighters are to vector on the closest missile stream. Take them out, but be careful.”

  That was one of the most dangerous missions for a warp fighter, coming in to kill fast moving missiles that weren't giving themselves away with their graviton emissions. Still, they were good at the mission, and she would rather lose some fighters and their half dozen crew versus million ton ships with hundreds or thousands of crews.

  “They're moving ma'am. But most of them won't get on the streams in time.”

  I should have known they would pull something like this. I got caught up in thinking that they wanted to kill Beata at all costs.

  “The gates are being turned ma'am. Their reorienting onto Admiral Bednarczyk's force again.”

  Which means they have had time to send four or five waves at us, thought Mara, grimacing.

  “ETA?”

  “Twelve minutes, approximately.”

  “When they reach the ten minute mark, all ships are to start cycling counters as fast as they can launch.”

  The counters would be fired blind, without a target, accelerating in the general direction of the swarm. They would normally be tracking the incoming weapons from their graviton emissions, but here they wouldn't have that luxury. The counters would pick them up at ten light seconds, barely enough time to react. But some would get hits, and maybe force many more missiles to go into evasives, giving themselves away.

  At the ten minute ETA mark every warship in the fleet started cycling counters through their dedicated launchers. There was a ten second load time, and each launcher got off six shots a minute. More than a hundred thousand a volley, heading out at twenty thousand gravities.

  At six minutes out the wave of counters began to intersect with the incoming wave of missiles. The missiles remained silent, using only passives to find their targets. The counters pulsed radar and lidar with as much power as they had. In the fractions of a second they had they pushed their boost up to thirty thousand gravities, going after whatever they could find. The incoming missiles started to change their behavior after several had been hit. Their simple brains couldn't figure out the tactics of the enemy. But they could determine they were under attack, and that the objects moving around them were not massive enough to be ships, their programmed targets.

  Counters started to detonate, some with direct hits, more with proximity explosions as the weapons' brains determined that they were as close as they would ever get to their target. They didn't have much time, not at the combined velocities of the weapons, and there were many opportunities that were missed. Many of the incoming missiles boosted, trying to get away from their hunters, and giving themselves away in the process. Bright spots flared in the darkness, barely getting to Mara's fleet ahead of the missiles. More pinpoint flashes flared, missiles hitting their fellows as they tried to avoid the counters ahead.

  Ten seconds later the next wave of counters struck, another ten seconds after that. Mara still didn't know how many were still coming in, but from the continuation of flashes, the flares of graviton waves, the cessation of the same, she had to guess it was still near three quarters of a million weapons.

  “Fire the shotguns,” ordered Mara, wondering if the new weapon would do any good, or if she should just stick with the standard counters.

  “Next in the queue,” called out the tactical officer, sending the orders out to all ships.

  The newly arrived merchies and logistics ships shut down their drives. If they weren't in a safe place by this time they would never reach it, and boosting just led the missiles right to them. All of the warships were boosting, luring the weapons into their target basket. The newly arrived capital ships stuck close to the gates, their last defense.

  “Shotguns away.”

  Mara stared in morbid interest at the plot as that wave moved out. They looked like standard counters on the way, accelerating at the same rate. They would track and pursue their targets in the same manner, until they reached two light seconds distance, just over one light second separation. At that point the front of each counter exploded in a flare that took out the entire bow section. Each released two thousand tiny dots that accelerated toward the nearest target. A fraction of a second later the bodies of the counters exploded outward, filling space with a fast moving cloud of fragments.

  A hundred thousand enemy missiles disappeared, hit by the tiny balls of dense matter wrapped around a minute' amount of antimatter. Enough to blast through the body of a missile and breach the antimatter in the warhead. More went off as they hit the cloud of sharp fragments. It was a great defense, though not perfect, and three hundred thousand weapons slid through or boosted around. Into the target baskets of the laser rings and particle beams of the warships.

  Mara took in a deep breath as her fingernails dug into her palms. Thirty seconds later she let out the breath as the last missiles disappeared from the plot. She had gotten them. All of them.

  “We have hits on the fleet, ma'am,” called out the tactical officer. “A hundred and thirty four ships. Light cruisers and destroyer, with two heavy cruisers. Most were total losses.”

  A part of Mara died inside as she thought about those deaths, while at the same time she felt the triumph of defeating such a swarm. There would be more coming her way, but every one fired at her was one less that Beata had to worry about.


  “Battle force two is reporting that they are engaging an incoming swarm, ma'am.”

  And battle force three will be picking up their wave in another six minutes. Her force was safe for the next twenty-five minutes, and she was thinking it might be time to make another move. Off the bullseye.

  * * *

  “We're picking up a lot of graviton emissions from the area to galactic north, my Lord. Thousands, more. The smaller emissions of their counter weapons.”

  “We have them pinpointed, sir,” said the chief of staff. “Might I suggest that we jump part of our fleet into hyper and close with them.”

  Mrastaran put his head in an upper right hand and thought. The last time he had tried to attack an enemy force he knew the location of he had gotten reamed. He didn't doubt they would have a lot of weapons waiting for him to translate back in close to them. He could move his entire fleet, but then he would have to cease the attack against the collection of large ships near the planet. The clock was ticking, and he needed to wipe out that force to spare himself from the headman's ax.

  “Go ahead and send a force to that point. Let us say five hundred battleships and the appropriate escorts.”

  “And the other two, my Lord. We have another pinpoint from their graviton emissions.”

  Which meant another human group was being hit, with the third soon to follow.

  “We wait on those. Let's see how the first handles itself before committing more ships. I want the defensive positions around our gates to remain strong. And keep up the fire on the planet and the ships around it.”

  Admiral Trostara bowed his head slightly. Mrastaran could tell from the male's body posture that he didn't like the great admiral's decision. Mrastaran was willing to let the male think what he might, as long as he followed orders. He might not be in command that much longer, but while he was the fleet would follow his mind.

  Chapter Nineteen