09- We Lead

by Christopher Nuttall

  Susan nodded to the servant, then ordered tea. Admiral Fitzwilliam ordered a tray of biscuits, cakes and sandwiches, then tapped a hidden switch. A holographic starchart appeared over the table, red, blue and green stars linked together by yellow tramlines. Susan sucked in her breath as her eyes found the war front, surrounded by tactical icons. The enemy - the Foxes and Cows - had clearly made new inroads into Tadpole-controlled space.

  Admiral Fitzwilliam leaned forward. “You can download a full strategic overview from the datanet,” he said. “However, we do need to go over a number of points.”

  He pointed at two of the red stars. “Despite the success of Operation Unity and a series of follow-up raids, the Foxes have continued to bring pressure against a number of Tadpole systems. In two cases, they have successfully driven the Tadpole Navy out of the system and reinforced heavily, opening up lines of attack that will take them to Tadpole Prime. Based on what we now know about the enemy” - he nodded to Prince Henry - “we expect they will concentrate their forces and thrust towards Tadpole Prime. As yet, of course, we have no idea when they will mount their offensive.”

  Susan nodded in grim agreement. The alien POWs - unlike the Tadpoles, back during the first war - were talking, but they apparently knew little beyond what their superiors felt they needed to know. It made sense, she’d been told, yet it was frustrating. There was no way to know what the alien leaders were thinking, ensuring that intelligence’s best analysts were essentially guessing. They might be right about the alien plan to drive on Tadpole Prime ...

  ... Or they might be applying human norms to aliens, thus being wrong with confidence.

  “Assuming this is correct,” Admiral Fitzwilliam added, “we may expect to see more and more alien forces diverted into jump-off locations for the planned offensive. That gives us a chance to go on the offensive ourselves, in tandem with our allies. The ultimate goal will be to punch our way through to the alien homeworld and force them to surrender.”

  “At the very least,” Naiser injected thoughtfully, “it will force them to divert their fleets from the original front as we open up a new one.”

  “Correct,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said. “The Tadpoles are, in fact, massing their own forces near Tadpole Prime. If the enemy weakens, they too will go on the offensive. We may see a repeat of the Battle of the Marne in space.”

  Susan nodded, thoughtfully. The Battle of the Marne had been studied, extensively, at the Luna Academy, even though it had taken place well before the first cosmonaut had been launched into space. The Germans, if she recalled correctly, had switched units from the west to the east, ensuring that they’d been caught in transit and unable to assist either front when the tide of battle turned against them. It was possible, she’d been warned, that something similar could happen in interstellar war. A scattered fleet might be defeated in detail before it had a chance to re-concentrate.

  But the Germans didn't lose the war, not then, she recalled. They just lost the chance to deliver a knock-out blow to either of their enemies.

  “Giving us a chance to crush enemy formations before they have a chance to re-concentrate their forces,” she said, out loud.

  “We certainly hope so,” Admiral Fitzwilliam agreed. He smiled, as if he’d told a joke she hadn't heard. It made no sense to her. “What do you think of the concept so far?”

  Susan hesitated. It wasn't as if she was surrounded by superior officers who’d never flown anything more complex than an office desk. Admiral Fitzwilliam was a war hero ... they were all war heroes. Even Admiral Soskice had a sterling record for designing new weapons and putting them into play. There was no way they needed her to tell them the flaws in the plan, the little glitches that would make a theoretical concept utterly unworkable in the real world. Hell, they'd spoken in such general terms that it was hard to see any problems ...

  She looked up at the starchart and saw one. “The concept seems workable, on the surface,” she said. “However ...” - she reached out and traced a line on the chart - “they would have ample opportunity to detect our fleet making its way towards their territory and shift units to face us. Their FTL communications system gives them a very definite unfair advantage. I don’t think we could sneak a fleet up to their borders without being detected well in advance.”

  “We could sneak through the edges of their systems,” Henry mused. “It isn't as if we haven't taken the long way around before.”

  “There would still be a risk of detection,” Susan said. Admiral Fitzwilliam would know it, of course. Given interior lines of communication, twinned with a FTL communications system, the enemy could blunt their offensive with ease. They might still lose, of course, but the costs would be high. The Royal Navy couldn't afford heavy losses. “I think ...”

  Her voice trailed off as it hit her. Captain Juliet Watson-Stewart ... she shouldn't be present, not at a strategy meeting. Unless ... unless ...

  “You think we don’t need the tramlines,” she said. “You think we have a way of getting there without using the tramlines.”

  Admiral Fitzwilliam smiled. “I told you she was smart,” he said to Naiser. “And she’s right.”

  Susan stared at him. Getting around the tramlines - moving FTL without following the whims of a poorly-understood network of natural forces - was the Holy Grail of modern science. Billions of pounds had been thrust into programs designed to find ways to avoid the tramlines. But she’d never thought it possible, not until now. It had always seemed a pipe dream.

  And FTL communications were a pipe dream too, she reminded herself. We know they’re possible now.

  He looked at Susan. “We think we can get a task force right into the enemy rear,” he said, bluntly. “And no matter how swiftly they move forces from the front, they're still going to be in deep shit.”

  “And if we fail,” Admiral Naiser said, “there’s no way back. This may well be a suicide mission.”

  Susan smiled. “We lead, sir.”

  Chapter Four

  Captain Juliet Watson-Stewart took control of the holographic display, removing the starchart and replacing it with a string of equations that made no sense to Susan, followed by a line running between two gravity wells.

  “I’ve been told to keep this simple,” she said. Susan didn't miss the mixture of wry affection and resignation that flickered across Naiser’s face. “Unfortunately, that means I’m going to have to simplify.”

  She paused for a moment, then went on. “An object’s mass warps the structure of space - the greater the mass, the greater the warp. If you imagine space as a flat plastic sheet, the weight of each star leaves indents in the plastic - and, if the object is heavy enough, falls right through, leaving a tear behind. It’s not a very good analogy, but it’ll do.

  “The warping eventually leads to gravity corridors running between sufficiently large centres of mass,” she continued. “These corridors may actually play a role in holding the universe together - half the world’s scientists think so, while the other half think they’re nothing more than freak occurrences. Either way, we know that a low-level gravity field can be used to hop a starship along a tramline, while a high-level gravity field can be used to enhance a tramline to the point it becomes passable.”

  “Like the Tadpoles did,” Susan said, just to show she was paying attention. “They opened up new tramlines and used them to attack us.”

  “Precisely,” Juliet said. She nodded to the display. “Those tramlines, however, were always in existence. They were merely too weak to carry a starship without assistance. We - in the course of trying to unwrap the FTL communications system - stumbled across something a little more interesting. It is possible, it seems, to create a completely new tramline, if only for a few seconds. One just needs two gravity wells and a great deal of power.”

  “A lot of power,” Naiser warned. “The output of every human battleship in existence would not be enough to produce a tramline.”

  “Thankfully, we can generate and stor
e the power required,” Juliet said. “However, it would be a one-shot device. Once you reached your destination, you would be unable to return by the same route.”

  Susan cocked her head. “You can't create the tramline permanently?”

  “The power requirements rise towards infinity,” Juliet said. “There are some theories allowing for creating and maintaining feedback loops, suggesting that it is possible to stabilise the tramline, but at the moment we’re limited to a single jump. The tramline will fade into nothingness the moment you complete the trip.”

  “I see,” Susan said. The Holy Grail ... even being able to bypass the tramlines once would give humanity an excellent chance to catch the aliens by surprise. But if the operation failed, they’d have to fight their way back to safety, while the aliens threw more and more ships at them. “And this is how you plan to surprise the enemy?”

  “Yes,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said.

  He retook control of the display and returned to the starchart. “The task force - we’re still putting the details together with the diplomats - will proceed to New Finland, then head to UXS-566,” he said. He tapped a dull red star on the edge of explored space. “According to our calculations, we should be able to jump from UXS-566 to ES-19 ... here. That will put the task force a mere four transits from the enemy homeworld, with two possible routes to follow to its destination. Assuming that the enemy detects your arrival in ES-19, you will still have several weeks before they can divert reinforcements from the front.”

  “Which doesn't include whatever they’ve held in reserve to defend their homeworld,” Admiral Soskice warned. “They may have plenty of forces in reserve.”

  Susan nodded. Earth was hundreds of light years from the war front, but all of the Great Powers maintained sizable forces to defend humanity’s homeworld. Earth had been attacked once, during the last war. Never again. There was no reason to assume the Foxes would have stripped their homeworld bare, just to push the offensive against the Tadpoles. The task force might encounter something it couldn't handle.

  “If you cannot take their homeworld, we expect you to ravage their system and destroy their industrial base,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said. “But if you can hold their system, if only temporarily, we believe we can use it to force them to surrender.”

  “Their natural response to a newcomer is a challenge,” Prince Henry said. “To establish the pecking order, as it were. They’ll surrender to us if we convince them they’re beaten. And then the war will be over.”

  “So we have to give them a thrashing,” Susan mused. “How very much like school.”

  Prince Henry’s lips quirked. “In space and on the ground,” he said, nodding to Brigadier Percy Schneider. “Assuming we can, the marines will be landed, with orders to dig in and hold. If they can't destroy our spaceheads quickly, they’ll surrender.”

  “It seems there are a lot of assumptions in this,” Brigadier Schneider observed. Susan had been thinking the same thing. “Your Highness, just how sure are you that they’ll surrender?”

  “Nothing is entirely certain,” Prince Henry said. “It’s quite possible that we’ve misunderstood what we’ve been told, even after capturing so many alien POWs. But even if we’re completely wrong, hitting them in the rear will give us a realistic chance of either beating them or forcing them to retreat. Either way, we will be in an excellent position to end the war on decent terms.”

  Admiral Fitzwilliam met Susan’s eyes. “Your opinion?”

  “It sounds reasonable,” Susan said, slowly. She rather suspected she would need to read through the datafiles before coming to any final conclusion. “And we have hedged a little, just in case the projections are wrong. Tearing the heart out of their industry will definitely shorten the war.”

  “They will also view it as dishonourable,” Prince Henry said.

  “Too bad,” Schneider said. “Destroying their industrial base is the quickest way to end the war.”

  Susan was inclined to agree. Starships took months to construct, at least. A battleship like Vanguard required nearly two years, from the moment the keel was laid to the final fitting out and pre-release trials. Taking out the enemy shipyards would cut off their reinforcements, giving the human forces a window to crush the enemy and invade their home systems before the enemy rebuilt. And while the Foxes might view it as dishonourable, she found it hard to care. They’d started the damn war, after all.

  “Admiral Naiser will command the task force, assuming we can get everyone else to agree,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said. “Susan, Vanguard will serve as his flagship.”

  “Yes, sir,” Susan said. The diplomats were going to have fun. Everyone wanted their officer to hold overall command. The Americans, the French, the Chinese ... they’d all want to command the task force. And while Naiser was an experienced officer, he wasn't the only one. Sorting out the command structure would be tricky. “It will be a honour.”

  “Tell me that afterwards,” Naiser told her. His lined face shifted into a tired smile. “You won’t find it easy.”

  “Just remember to keep your hands to yourself,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said. “Susan’s ship is Susan’s.”

  “You speak from experience,” Admiral Soskice said. “Is Captain Pole still not talking to you?”

  “We did get married, after she took early retirement,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said. “And while we did separate, I don’t think that was because she was my flag captain.”

  He glanced at Susan. “Don’t be afraid to tell him to buzz off if he starts interfering in your command decisions,” he added. “Captain Pole never hesitated to order me to keep my mouth closed.”

  Susan winced, inwardly. A captain was mistress of her ship, with sole responsibility for her fate. But when that ship played host to an admiral - or even another superior officer - it could lead to all sorts of problems. On one hand, an admiral had no right to issue orders to the ship’s crew; on the other hand, what officer or crewman would refuse an order from his superior? She’d heard plenty of horror stories about toadying captains who’d allowed their admirals to believe they were allowed to micromanage their ships, as well as command their task forces. It wasn't going to be easy.

  “I know my place,” Naiser said, deadpan. “I’ll stay on the flag bridge, if you don't mind.”

  “Not at all,” Susan said.

  “Percy” - Fitzwilliam glanced at Brigadier Percy Schneider - “will command the marine element. Ideally, he’ll command the entire landing force, but we may have to compromise a little. The Americans and the French both have strong candidates for the role. Once you get down, Percy, you or the overall commander will have authority to accept surrender - or to offer it, if the operation goes belly-up.”

  “It will be an interesting challenge,” Schneider said.

  Susan nodded in agreement. The marines had landed on alien worlds before, back during the war, but this would be different. This time, the aliens were interested in the land, rather than the sea. There was enough space in the galaxy for humans and Tadpoles, but was there enough space for humans, Cows and Foxes? But then, she supposed, the two alien races had managed to work together. Unity, a world that was supposed to be shared between humans and aliens, had practically failed. The two settlements might as well be on different planets for all the contact they’d had.

  “We will, of course, hash out the final details - as much as possible - over the next couple of weeks,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said. “Susan, you’ll be returning to Vanguard in five days - ideally, the refit will be completed within a fortnight. The task force should be assembled a week from then, hopefully. Unless the diplomats manage to screw the whole thing up ...”

  He shrugged. “John, you’ll be boarding Vanguard at the same time?”

  “It would be better to board Vanguard after the refit has been completed,” Naiser said, after a moment. “Captain Onarina would probably prefer that my staff and I were somewhere else during the refit. I can stay on Nelson Base until then.”
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br />   Susan resisted - barely - the urge to nod in agreement. Vanguard was far larger than Warspite, but she would still have found it annoying to cope with both the refit and demands from an admiral. Or, more likely, from his staff. It spoke well of Naiser, she decided, if he was prepared to accommodate her. And it probably worked in his favour too. He’d have more access to his future subordinates on Nelson Base.

  “As you wish,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said.

  He smiled, rather thinly. “The downside is that you will also be joined by the press,” he added. “A small selection of reporters will be offered the chance to accompany the task force, under the usual rules. Try not to insult them.”

  Oh, joy, Susan thought.

  “I’ll do my best,” Naiser said. “But really ... as long as they behave themselves, they should be fine.”

  “They’ll be joining you after the refit,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said.