Which is going to turn into yet another diplomatic nightmare, he thought, as he studied the post-battle reports. He’d seen too many slaughters over the past few days, too many alien civilians - and collaborators - ruthlessly hunted down and exterminated by the rebels. He’d had to issue orders to secure a handful of POW camps, grimly aware that - if he had to pull his men out - the prisoners would be slaughtered. Why didn’t it ever occur to the Tokomak to be a little nicer to their subjects?
He snorted at the absurd thought. One couldn’t build an empire designed to enforce stagnation, an empire built on slavery, while being nice to one’s subjects. Someone had to do the dirty work. And besides, the Tokomak had been convinced they were the rightful rulers of the galaxy. They’d never really considered that they could lose, not on more than a very small scale. It had kept them from being nice to anyone. Why be nice when you controlled the largest hammer the galaxy had ever seen?
Because, one day, you might wake up and discover that someone has invented a superweapon that could turn your entire fleet into scrap metal, he mused, sardonically. I suppose that’s why you made sure that everyone stagnated. You wanted to make sure no one could or would invent a superweapon.
“Admiral,” Commander Hacker said. “The advance elements are ready to begin their move.”
“Order them to begin operations, as planned,” Colin said. “And alert me if things change.”
He turned his attention to the starchart, wondering - again - just what was happening on the other side of the inner worlds. Where was Admiral Stuart? Did the Tokomak already know she was coming? He’d gone through a hundred simulations, trying to deduce when they’d pretty much have to know she was coming, but there was no way to be sure. There was so little hard data that all his conclusions were pretty much guesswork. He told himself to stop worrying. He had only a handful of transits until he reached the Twins, whereupon he’d have to fight his way into the system. The reports didn’t look good. The system was so heavily defended that they could practically have jammed the gravity point with fortresses ...
A ping echoed through the compartment. “Admiral, the LinkShip has returned,” Hacker said. “Ah ... her commander is requesting a private conference.”
Colin nodded. “Inform her I’ll teleport over when she’s within range,” he said. In theory, their communications should be private. In practice ... better to be safe than very sorry. And besides, he was curious. He’d never had a chance to see a LinkShip. “I’ll be in my office until she’s here.”
“Aye, Admiral,” Hacker said. “She’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
***
Colin couldn’t help feeling an odd stab of jealousy, mingled with pity, as the LinkShip’s interior materialised around him. The LinkShip was elegant, in a manner more befitting a luxury yacht than a warship. The fittings looked nice, the bulkheads were finely decorated and the galley looked like a small office rather than something belonging to a warship that might be going into battle at any moment. It almost made him envious, were it not for the fact the LinkShip’s pilot could never leave. The navy had to make her comfortable.
Which makes her lucky in some respects, he mused. The Solar Navy was a great believer in not giving too much luxury to its senior officers. Colin had a suite, but it was hardly that luxurious. And very unlucky in others.
He studied Hameeda - if she had a surname, it had never been written into the files - with some interest. She was a tall woman, with long dark hair that was strictly against regulations ... although that probably didn’t matter, he thought, given that she would be spending the rest of her life on a starship. She looked oddly uncomfortable in her tunic, as if she would sooner be wearing something else. It clung to her in odd places, suggesting it wasn’t really designed for her. Colin puzzled over it for a moment, then dismissed the thought. If she wanted something suitable, she could have gotten it from stores. Or simply had it put together in her onboard fabricator.
“Admiral Teller,” Hameeda said. Her voice was soft, as if she wasn’t quite used to speaking any longer. “Welcome onboard.”
“Thank you,” Colin said, sincerely. “It’s a very interesting ship.”
“I’m afraid this is probably the best compartment,” Hameeda said. “The bridge is really quite a disappointment.”
“So I’ve been told,” Colin said. He took the mug of coffee she offered him and sat. The coffee tasted real, not navy-issue. “I’d love to take a tour, but I don’t have time. I need to ...”
He broke off as Hameeda made a gesture. A holographic image appeared in front of him, floating over the table. It looked real enough to touch, without the faint haze surrounding most military-grade hologram. He wondered, absently, why the military didn’t eliminate the haze. He could see the sense, sometimes, but really ... who was going to believe a tiny holographic fleet was actually real? And ... his blood turned to ice as he surveyed the fleet in front of him. The handful of icons suggesting the fleet was nowhere near as powerful as it looked were not reassuring. The fleet would have to be a great deal weaker if it wanted to please him.
“Shit,” he said, quietly. “How big is that fleet?”
“The uppermost estimate is seven thousand ships, of which roughly a third belong to their allies,” Hameeda said, quietly. “It’s possible the figure might be a great deal lower ...”
“You mean, they might have used drones to make the fleet look a lot bigger?” Colin was clutching at straws and he knew it. He felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “I assume you checked the data for ... hints the fleet might not be real?”
“Yes, sir.” Hameeda didn’t look insulted by the question. That, if nothing else, was a pretty clear sign she’d worried about it herself. “I checked and rechecked the data. It’s possible there are a small number of sensor ghosts amongst the fleet, but the vast majority of the ships are real.”
“And they were well behind the lines, where they have no reason to fake an entire fleet,” Colin mused. “Unless they caught a sniff of you ...?”
“I don’t believe so,” Hameeda said. She sounded pensive, as if she wasn’t quite sure she believed herself. “They made no attempt to keep me from sneaking back through the Twins ...”
She broke off. “Sir, the Twins have risen and the Tokomak are sending a fleet to put the rebels down.”
Colin listened, grimly, to her report. The Twins were in revolt ... a good thing, except it meant the Tokomak might have a good chance to put the revolt down before his fleet could get there. And then ... seven thousand ships were more than enough to keep him out of the Twins, if they got there first. Or Gateway, if they got there first. On one hand, Admiral Stuart’s plan had succeeded. He silently credited her with luring the main body of the alien fleet out of position. But, on the other hand, she’d left him with a problem. Did he continue the steady advance? Or did he throw caution to the winds and rush to liberate the Twins?
He closed his eyes for a long moment. He’d read the reports. The Twins were important for all sorts of reasons, from simple location to a vast industrial base and military stockpiles that could be repurposed to serve the human race. If he took the system, he’d have all sorts of possible options ... options the enemy would have to take into account even if he didn’t. He needed to punch into Gateway, unless ... the enemy ships would already be out of position. They certainly wouldn’t be covering their homeworld. As long as he was threatening them, they couldn’t pull the ships out ...
And if they do get to the Twins first, they’ll slaughter everyone, he thought. He’d read the reports. The Tokomak were lashing out like wounded beasts, determined to kill their tormentors before they were killed themselves. There are good and practical reasons to go to their aid.
He keyed his wristcom. “Commander Hacker, inform the fleet that we will depart for the Twins as soon as possible,” he ordered. “Recall the advance elements, tell them we won’t attempt to secure anything beyond the gravity point itself. Dispatch recon units to the
gravity points. I want to know what’s waiting for us.”
“Aye, sir,” Hacker said. He sounded surprised, too surprised to hide it. “The remainder of the fleet should be ready to depart in two hours.”
“Shave as much time off that as you can,” Colin ordered, although he knew they’d be running up against some pretty hard limits. “And call a staff conference for one hour. All captains and commodores to attend. I’ll be back by then.”
“Yes, sir,” Hacker said.
Colin shut off the wristcom and looked at Hameeda. She looked surprised too ... fitting, he supposed. Colin would have preferred to recon the system thoroughly before pushing onwards, just to make sure there were no nasty surprises lurking in the shadows, ready to stick a knife in him when he turned his back. A single enemy squadron behind the lines could cause a great deal of trouble, if it didn’t manage to cut his supply lines completely. At worst, he’d be cut off and forced to retrace his steps, cutting his way through enemy defences that had been thrown up in his rear. Admiral Stuart would take the risk without hesitation. Colin didn’t like the thought of it, but he knew he’d have to take the risk too.
“I have downloads on all the gravity point defences,” Hameeda said, quietly. “A full-spectrum report and analysis, one for each of them. They can’t have changed them that quickly.”
“Let us hope so,” Colin said. He frowned, forcing himself to think. He’d have to rotate his squadrons, sending one set into battle while the other set rearmed. It would be another gamble, one he’d prefer not to take. “How long do we have?”
“I don’t know,” Hameeda said. “It depends on what assumptions we make ...”
“Not enough time, then,” Colin said. He had an uneasy sense he was starting a race he might already have lost. “But we will do our level best to get there first.”
He scowled. If he could get into the system first and take control of the gravity point leading to Gateway, he could stand off the entire enemy fleet ... unless they’d finally started deploying assault pods of their own. If that happened ... he considered his options for a long moment, then dismissed the thought. He’d just have to fight a conventional battle and hope his technological advantages would trump sheer numbers. Or that the enemy tired of staggering losses.
Who knows? His thoughts mocked him. Perhaps the horse will learn to sing.
Hameeda looked at the table. “What do you want me to do?”
Colin considered it. “I want you to join the staff conference,” he said. “After that, I want you to be ready to support the fleet. We’re going to have to cut our way through a set of enemy defences and I think we’re going to need you.”
“Yes, sir.” Hameeda looked a little disappointed. Perhaps she’d been hoping to get back to the Twins. “I’m at your service.”
“Good.” Colin understood her feelings, but he needed the LinkShip. Besides, the planetary defences might have been tightened to the point they’d spot her making transit and kill her before her systems stabilised. The Tokomak must have figured out the human race had some way of sneaking through the gravity points by now. “I’m counting on you.”
He stood. “If you don’t mind, I’ll teleport back now,” he said. He keyed his wristcom, requesting a window in the teleport baffles. “And I’ll see you at the conference.”
“Yes, sir,” Hameeda said. She didn’t sound pleased. He didn’t blame her. Command conferences were boring, even if the CO was a sensible man. “I’ll be there.”
***
Hameeda rubbed her forehead as Admiral Teller vanished in a beam of shimmering light, a handful of protests from her security systems blinking up in front of her eyes. It was a security risk to lower the teleport baffles long enough for one person to teleport, although she saw no harm in it. Not here, at least. There were no enemy ships for millions of kilometres, if any remained in the system itself. The Tokomak hadn’t bothered to make a real fight for the system. Hameeda suspected that boded ill for the future. They’d presumably pulled ships and men out to make a stand somewhere else.
Like the Twins, she thought. She hadn’t really had time to do more than snatch a brief update from the rebels as she passed through the system. She’d wanted to stop long enough to invite Piece to join her, but neither of them had the time. The entire system had been in flames. She’d intercepted enough broadcasts to know that chaos reigned, that everyone was panicking if they weren’t already under attack. They must know the Twins have risen by now.
A diagram appeared in her mind, utterly uninvited. A message would have been sent through the gravity points as soon as the rebellion began. By now, assuming the courier stayed in FTL, it would have reached Tokomak Prime itself. The fleet had probably been alerted shortly before she’d spotted it, which meant ... she ran through the calculations time and time again, wishing for harder data. Guesswork. It was all guesswork. One fleet might get there before the other or they might arrive at the same time, causing all sorts of interesting confrontations. There was just no way to know, until they actually reached the Twins.
And hope they can hold out until we get there, she mused. It was possible, if her projections were accurate. The gravity point defences didn’t have the mobile firepower they’d need to retake the high orbitals. They would have to wait for reinforcements before they made their move. Humanity would have a window of opportunity, a chance to act. And that we keep the enemy from realising the threat heading towards their homeworld.
Hameeda stood, brushing down her tunic. She hadn’t expected Admiral Teller to insist on beaming onboard and she’d barely had any time to dress. Her lips twitched in amusement. She could hardly appear naked in front of a senior officer. She made a mental note to activate the holographic filter when she attended the command conference. They wouldn’t know she was naked as long as she looked like she was wearing a uniform ...
She strode back to the bridge, silently reviewing the human fleet. It had grown in the last week, with the addition of hundreds of alien-crewed vessels. Cold logic told her that most of them would be completely ineffective against modern warships, or even Tokomak designs, but they had to be there. On one hand, it would be important - later - for the aliens to say they played a role in the war. And, on the other, they might soak up missiles aimed at human ships. She hated having to think like that, but she knew there was no way around it. The sheer size of the fleet bearing down on them made point defence and sensor drones seem pointless. The Tokomak could simply smother them in missiles.
And then proceed to lay waste to our worlds, she thought. She activated the starchart as she sat in the chair, without donning the helmet. It was easy to trace the planned routes leading into enemy territory. Except ... they don’t know about Admiral Stuart ... do they?
She shook her head. There was no way to know. And that meant the engagement might be completely unnecessary ... or pointless ... or utterly disastrous. The sheer size of the Tokomak reserves were daunting. If they had time to bring them online, they’d punch their way to Earth before humanity had time to come up with something new, something that would level the playing field or tip it in humanity’s favour. The Tokomak could lose the entire fleet bearing down on the Twins and still come out ahead, if they inflicted serious damage on Admiral Teller’s fleet. And ... they didn’t have to do much more than force him to empty his magazines. The fleet would be useless without weapons to fire at their enemies.
We’re not completely short of options, she told herself, firmly. It was hard to believe Admiral Stuart had been stopped, even if the enemy did know she was coming. They would hardly have sent so many warships away from Tokomak Prime if they knew she was out there. And we have to be giving them a very hard time indeed.
Her eyes narrowed. And we’ve encouraged so many of their slaves to rise up against them, she thought. She’d seen signs of trouble right across the empire, from messages warning of unrest to starships vanishing in transit or entire planets rising against their oppressors. Win or lose, their empire w
ill never be the same again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Launch the assault pods,” Hoshiko ordered.
She braced herself as the icons vanished, plunging through the gravity point and into the next system. The Tokomak knew they were coming. They’d harassed her fleet with light units as it punched its way further down the chain, stalling for time while they waited for reinforcements. A handful of gravity points had been covered with hastily-replaced fortresses, but little else. She was grimly aware the Tokomak had to be recalling their starships and plotting to make a stand somewhere short of Tokomak Prime itself.
“The second wave of assault pods are ready,” Yolanda said. “Recon units are transiting the gravity point now.”
Hoshiko nodded, curtly. She didn’t have to issue any further orders. They’d carried out enough gravity point assaults over the last year to know the drill, particularly since the Tokomak defenders hadn’t realised - yet - just how great an advantage the missile pods gave her. Or, perhaps, they had realised ... and they were deliberately trying to force her to expend her supply. The kind of mindset that would rate fortresses and even starships as expendable was beyond her, even though she could see the logic. If she bogged down, tangled up in a web of fortresses and minefields, the Tokomak would have all the time they needed to gather the forces to rip her apart and go on to smash the Solar Union into rubble. And the Tokomak had enough forces to make such costly tactics practical ...
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