Wing Commander #07 False Color

by William R. Forstchen

  "Very good." He stood slowly, stretching weary limbs. Suddenly he felt that he might, after all, be able to sleep for a little while. Everything was running smoothly . . . and if he didn't rest now, while he could, he'd certainly have no opportunities later. Once they hit Baka Kar, rest would be impossible for any of them. "Call me when we are ready to make the jump. You have the bridge, Mr. Kittani."

  The Turk nodded solemnly. "I have the bridge, sir," he said formally, taking the command chair.

  Geoff Tolwyn left CIC, striding with his back ramrod-straight. They might be about to engage in their last battle, but he was damned if he was going to show the least sign of strain or worry.

  Right now, he had everything he could want—a good ship, a good crew, and the prospect of striking a blow for freedom.

  For Geoff Tolwyn, that was enough and all else, all the other things were at last, for this moment, forgotten. Things were again as they once were.

  CHAPTER 19

  "Consider the story of Karga the Hero, which tells of the rewards of honor and duty. Consider the story of Vorghath the Hunter, and reflect on the perils of complacence."

  from the Seventh Codex

  04:17:09

  Flag Bridge, KIS Dubav

  Deep Space, Gorkhos System

  0410 hours (CST), 2671.042

  "A message, Lord Admiral. Passed on by Fleet Command."

  Ukar dai Ragark turned to face the speaker. "What is it, Communications Officer?" he asked, glowering. He was beginning to feel frustrated and impatient at the annoying problems that had cropped up over and over since the task force had departed from Baka Kar.

  They had made a round-about voyage of it, traveling by way of Dharkyll, Khrovat, and Preesg to pick up additional ships for the strike group, including the escort carrier Larq, which replaced Klarran in his tactical dispositions. The idea had been to move slowly enough to let the Landreichers know they were coming, yet quickly enough to hit Ilios ahead of any possible response, but in practice it hadn't worked that way. First there had been the delay in assembling the reinforcements, including Larq, at Khrovat, where the ships had recently been involved in the suppression of a rebellion. They had reported resistance completely ended on the colony, when it fact they had still been in the last stages of putting it down when the task force jumped in. He would have left them to their work and gone on, but Ragark had found that the falsely optimistic reports weren't the only thing wrong at Khrovat. He suspected the System Administrator of entertaining notions of making his own bid for power within the province and using the rebellion as an excuse to retain those ships under his own command, so Ragark had been forced to intervene directly and clean out the corrupt administration before carrying on. It would not have been wise to take the fleet onward leaving a nest of traitors behind him.

  Then the Hravik had developed jump drive problems at Preesg, which necessitated hasty repairs. Over an eight-day behind schedule, they had finally arrived at the designated staging area here at Gorkhos. Ragark had decided to hold back for a few hours longer, though, and send a scout ship ahead through the jump point to Ilios. Even if the Landreich had mustered a fleet to meet him, he calculated that he had the strength to defeat it, but Ukar dai Ragark was not the kil to leave things to chance. He wanted to know his opposition, rather than allow himself to be taken by surprise as Thrakhath, curse his name, had been time and again in battle against these unpredictable humans. But the petty frustrations had been building, and he was feeling less than patient.

  "Lord Admiral, a report from Vordran. The picket there. Captain Ian Vharr has reported the arrival of the carrier Karga, believed lost over a year ago. It apparently was damaged and had to make repairs deep behind the human frontier, and is now on the way to Baka Kar for a more thorough refit at the docks." The Flag Communications Officer gave him a triumphant upraised fist. "Yet another addition to our strength, Lord Admiral! Karga is one of the newer supercarriers . . ." Ragark raised a hand and made a slashing motion, cutting off the report. Karga . . . he seemed to remember the name. Yes, a carrier . . . he had used Baka Kar as a staging area for a raid by a small battle group. One of Thrakhath's worthless sideshow campaigns, intended to exact vengeance for the Landreich leader's support of the Terrans in the Battle of Earth. The entire battle group had disappeared across the border, never heard from again.

  That wasn't quite right. There had been one contact, he remembered. One final message . . .

  The admiral in command had announced that he was sacrificing the carrier for the glory of the Empire! That was it . . . that was why he remembered the whole affair so well. The hypercast had been distorted by static, but he could still remember listening and saying a death-chant over the loss of so many brave Warriors. So how could Karga still be alive today? No admiral would dare withdraw a self-destruct command at the risk of honor and hrai. Could it be a trick of some kind? But the captain of the picket ship had apparently been satisfied that it really was Karga.

  Ragark remembered something else, something that made him bare his teeth. The admiral commanding the Karga battle group had been Cakg dai Nokhtak. A cousin of Thrakhath's . . . a member of the Imperial House.

  A possible claimant to the throne . . . certainly a tanist with better credentials than Ragark's own. What if he had avoided the destruction of his ship, and survived until now? Would Cakg dai Nokhtak be content to join Ragark . . . or would he seek to replace him? Imperial blood would have a strong lure for many of his followers, possibly even Dawx Jhorrad. Especially if it was backed by a carrier and a story of heroism in the war.

  He had been held back by the possibly disloyalty of the Administrator at Khrovat. This could be far more dangerous. He could return to Baka Kar to find his entire position undermined . . .

  Ragark leapt to decision. "Transmit new orders to the task force," he said. "We will move to the jump point to Vordran and investigate this story in more detail. The move on Ilios is postponed. See that all captains are aware of the change of plan. We get under way immediately!"

  If Karga was a friend, he could afford the delay. After all, his move on Rios had been designed to draw the humans away from threatening the repairs to Vorghath, and he was sure he had already accomplished that through the threat he had posed.

  But if Karga was an enemy, his four carriers, combined with the two at Baka Kar, would crush him.

  Operations Planning Center, FRLS Independence

  Orbiting Ilios, Ilios System

  0845 hours (CST)

  The single figure sitting at the big triangular table in OPC looked very much alone when Kevin Tolwyn entered the compartment. Max Kruger was hunched over his computer terminal, calling up holographic charts of possible battle plans for the defense of Ilios, but the dejected set of his shoulders told a different story altogether.

  "Sir," Tolwyn said, "patrols have destroyed a Cat scout ship near the jump point to Gorkhos. And our long-range communications monitors have picked up traffic from the same direction. It sounded like an abort order, recalling the Cat fleet to form on their flagship and prepare to jump outsystem."

  Kruger raised red-shot, weary eyes. "When?"

  "That's the thing, sir. The signals are several hours old now. It took that long to get them correlated and descrambled. If they were jumping to attack us here, they should have started coming through the jump point long since."

  Kruger didn't answer him. The President shut off the holo-projector, but sat staring at the center of the table as if it was still displaying an image.

  After a long moment of silence, Tolwyn spoke again. "Mr. President . . ."

  The older man raised a hand in a dismissive gesture. "By now, I doubt that," he said. They had monitored word from the Landreich that Galbraith had rammed through a response to Kruger's tactics in record time. As they spoke, the Council would be meeting to consider the Opposition's call for a vote of no confidence. There had even been a rumor they were considering a vote to impeach Kruger for his abandonment of the capitol
.

  "Sir," Tolwyn insisted. "Nothing official's happened yet. Even Captain Galbraith can't act against your orders until he receives an official message from Landreich."

  "So? What would the point be, Captain? Whatever I do now, they'll nullify it."

  "The only reason I can think of Ragark to back down from the plan to attack here is if he had some kind of information about a threat to Baka Kar. If Mjollnir was keeping to schedule, she'd be going in today. And if that's what Ragark's reacting to . . ."

  "Then he's got too big a head start for us to make much difference, Captain," Kruger said. "It looks like

  Richards and Geoff were right. Even if they take out the dreadnought, they'll never get away. Not if Ragark can seal off their escape." He leaned back in his chair, nothing at all like the excitable, enthusiastic madman who had become such a mythic figure in this part of space. Now he was just an old, done man, with nothing left to hold on to. "No, Captain, I suppose I should just save everyone the trouble. Let Galbraith take the fleet back to Landreich and get it all over with."

  "Damn it, sir, you can't just write them off!" Tolwyn exploded. "You have no way of knowing what the tactical situation will be out there . . . but if Ragark does get back to Baka Kar, and Mjollnir has to face his combined forces alone, it will be a goddamned suicide mission."

  Kruger's frown deepened. "We could end up spacing right into Ragark's hands, Tolwyn. We could lose the whole damned fleet . . ."

  "When has that ever stopped you before?" he demanded. "You were willing to rush that Cat squadron at Hellhole with two empty carriers and nothing but pure bluff to get you through, and if that wasn't risking the fleet I don't know what the hell was!" Tolwyn was pacing back and forth in front of the President, talking with his hands and body as much as his words. "Anyway, once Galbraith gets in power there won't be much of a fleet anyway. He'll pay off most of the carriers and draw down the rest of the armed forces. Or the Cats will roll right over everything and the whole fleet will be useless against them. What have you got to lose?"

  "A lot of good men and women, Captain," Kruger said wearily.

  "You've sacrificed people before," Tolwyn said brutally. "Soldiers and spacers . . . that's what we're for, you know. To die, if we have to, to protect the Republic."

  "What right do I have now?" Kruger asked. "Damn it, Tolwyn, the Republic's in the process of disowning me! It may not be official yet, but you know that by the time the last gavel falls today I won't have the authority to fire a salute, much less launch a battle."

  "Just because you've been disowned by your people, Mr. President, is no reason for you to disown them." Tolwyn stopped and leaned over the corner of the table, looking down at Kruger. "Your whole life has been about helping the Landreichers when they were being handed a raw deal by some outsider. You gave up your ConFleet career and risked your life and the lives of San Jacinto's crew to defend Landreich from the Cats. You've done the same thing a hell of a lot of times since then, too. Why? Because you were President? You weren't when you were commanding San Jacinto and you told Vance Richards what he could do with his withdrawal orders!"

  Kruger fixed Tolwyn with a stare, and there was silence in the OPC, a silence that dragged out uncomfortably long. Finally, he stirred in his seat. "You know, Captain Tolwyn, you're turning into a remarkably fine replacement for Jason Bondarevsky. He always liked to play the role of my conscience, too, you know."

  "If I'm doing a good job of filling his shoes, I'm glad of it," Tolwyn said.

  Kruger snorted. "Wonderful." He stood up slowly. "All right, Captain Tolwyn, we'll by this your way. Maybe we'll bail Vance and them out of a mess . . . or maybe we'll just go down fighting. Either way, at least Max Kruger will go out with a bang, instead of a whimper, and be damned to the politicians who think they can put me out to pasture!"

  Flag Bridge, KIS Dubav

  Near Jump Point Sixteen, Vordran System

  0918 hours (CST)

  "No sign of the picket vessel, my Lord. Or anything else. Not even a debris field."

  Ragark resisted the urge to snarl a reply to the image of the ship's captain on his monitor screen, forcing his voice to remain flat and calm. -Very well, shape course for the jump point to Baka Kar. Maximum acceleration."

  "My Lord!" That was the Flag Sensor officer. "Picking up an emissions signature that corresponds to the Karga. Near the edge of the asteroid belt . . ."

  "You heard that, Val?" Ragark demanded.

  Akhjer nar Val gave him a grasping gesture of understanding and assent. "We have it here," he said.

  "Then order the fleet to pursue, by the Gods!"

  Ragark cut the intercom link, raging inwardly at the seeming inability of his subordinates to do anything competently. When they had first jumped into the Vordran system they had picked up a sensor image from something that should have been the picket boat, but after a burst of encrypted comm traffic the ship had vanished, apparently into the jump point to Hellhole.

  Now they were registering the carrier . . . where nothing had been before. Lurking near the edge of the asteroid belt, with transponders shut down, they might have escaped detection. But what kind of game was this dai Nokhtak playing?

  Zartoth 905, VAQ-662 "Shrill Cats"

  Asteroid Belt, Vordran System

  0920 hours (CST)

  Lieutenant Mbenge smiled inside his flight helmet. By now Ragark's crew should have picked up the signal he was sending, and he wished he could have been there to see the reaction when all those Cats discovered what looked like a carrier appearing from out of nowhere.

  They'd be even more surprised when his wingmate, Lieutenant Cynthia Hill, started up her part of the day's fun and games. Bondarevsky had detached the two Zartoth EW planes, plus a Kofar resupply bird to support them in the absence of the carrier, specifically for a situation like this one. Each of the Zartoths could put out signals that mimicked a ship's transponder code and energy readings. The discrepancies of size and mass would be hard to spot as long as the planes remained near the fringe of the asteroid belt, and since they could turn their signals on and off at will they could do a fine job of keeping the Cats occupied, searching in vain for a ship that wasn't there. With luck, that could buy them some time at Baka Kar, and keep Ragark from setting up an ambush at one of the jump points. Then, hopefully, they'd be able to keep a low profile until the danger passed and someone sent ships from the Free Republic to retrieve them. From everything he'd heard, the carrier might not be coming back from Baka Kar.

  He checked the countdown clock beside his sensor screen, and flicked off the switch that controlled his transmission. Let Ragark chew on that, for a while . . .

  Combat Information Center, FRLS Mjollnir

  Approaching Baka Kar, Baka Kar System

  1118 hours (CST)

  "Another cruiser, sir. Routine challenge and reply."

  Tolwyn nodded at Lieutenant Mario Vivaldi's report. That was the fourth warship they had encountered since making the jump from Vordran, and so far each one had sailed blithely past with no more than a casual exchange of greetings over the commlink. Richards had been right. If they had tried to come in as attackers, they would never have penetrated this far. There were plenty of fighting ships in the system, though it was clear from long-range scans that the bulk of Ragark's forces were elsewhere, presumably engaged with the Landreich fleet at Ilios—if Kruger's intelligence information had been accurate.

  But the deception was working beautifully. The transponder continued to send out the old ID signature which the Kilrathi picked up as friendly. And apparently the ruse with the picket boat had worked according to plan. There was no sign that anyone in space around Baka Kar was the least bit suspicious

  Karga.

  That would all change soon, though, he reminded himself grimly. As soon as the pretense was dropped and they attacked the dreadnought, every Cat in the system would come after them, and the odds were still formidable. With luck they could render the dreadnought useless .
. . but it would still take a minor miracle to win clear afterwards.

  Tolwyn pushed the dour thought from his mind. He had already crossed his Rubicon. Now he had to hope that all the elements of the strategy he, Richards, and Bondarevsky had mapped out together would come together as planned. And he had to make sure that Geoff Tolwyn, at least, played out his part.

  The sensor technician spoke up. "Ships appearing on long-range scanners out of the jump point, sir. Two . . . now three. Lead ship IFF reads as Xenophon . . ."

  "Right. Let the Cats get a good look, people." "Comm activity from the station is increasing," Vivaldi reported.

  "Vector changes on three cruisers . . . four . . . destroyers now changing vectors as well . . ." the sensor

  tech spoke fast to keep up with the changing conditions. "Hell, it looks like every capital ship in the system's changing course for the jump point, skipper."

  "That's what we've been waiting for," Tolwyn said. He touched a stud on his intercom panel. "Flight, from CIC."

  "Bondarevsky here." Tolwyn was surprised to see the Wing Commander in a full flight suit. The plan hadn't called for Bondarevsky to be strapping on a fighter today. But it was his business to run the Flight Wing any way he saw fit. Tolwyn trusted him . . . and trust was a commodity Geoff Tolwyn rarely extended any more.