Unless we want them to know we’re on the prowl, he thought. Part of the reason so many ships had been sent to slip into enemy-held systems was to keep the enemy on the alert. It would make them worry about their rear-area security.
He sighed. What would Captain Stuart do?
The asteroid mining station was hardly an important target, not in its own right. There was nothing stopping the Druavroks from establishing another, or just using a starship to tow an asteroid to the fabber and have it sliced up there. The fabber would take years to replace, certainly without the codes that permitted the fabber to duplicate itself; the station wouldn't take long to replace at all, even without a fabber ...
“Pull us back,” he ordered, hoping desperately that he’d made the right call. It would have been a great deal easier if the miners had been shooting at him. “We’ll find another ship leaving the system and shadow her out.”
“Aye, sir,” Octavo said.
There was no condemnation - or agreement - in his voice. Octavo probably had an opinion - everyone had opinions - but he wouldn't voice it. And yet, Thomas knew he’d always be haunted by his choice. All he could was hope, in the end, that he’d made the right one.
And that it doesn't come back to haunt me, he thought, silently. And that Captain Stuart understands why I did what I did.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Alliance for the Preservation of the United States carried out a number of air strikes against targets within California, followed by an air drop of weapons and supplies to various militia forces currently struggling to defend their territory against gangbangers and irregular forces from the cities. Reports from the cities report that the average civilian no longer has enough to eat or drink, while the streets are completely unsafe ...
-Solar News Network, Year 54
“We need to go back on the offensive, of course,” Hoshiko said.
Griffin kept his face impassive with an effort. It had been two weeks since the probe - or the reconnaissance in force, if that was what it had been - and the Captain was growing antsy, eager to resume the offensive. Amstar hadn't been attacked, the Druavroks remained suspiciously quiet and the Grand Alliance was growing stronger. He couldn't help wondering if the Druavroks were looking for another angle of attack, hoping their enemies would let down their guard if months passed without a further offensive, or if they were merely gathering their forces for a major attack. Either way, the Captain had no intention of just giving them the time to prepare their forces.
“Amstar is strongly held, at the moment,” Hoshiko continued. “And they haven’t launched an attack.”
“Yet,” Griffin said. “They could have a major force lurking just outside detection range, hoping we’d uncover Amstar for them.”
“It’s a possibility,” Hoshiko conceded, reluctantly. “But even they would have problems keeping a fleet on standby for so long, so far from their bases.”
She eyed the display. “And we’ve pushed recon ships out several light months from the planet,” she added. “If there is an enemy fleet lurking in the interstellar depths, they’re not sending courier boats back to their homeworld.”
“They could just be waiting,” Griffin pointed out. “Those cruisers might well have concealed the arrival of another ship, one watching us from a distance. Or they might have slipped a spying mission into the system, under the guise of a freighter passing though.”
“Assuming they can get someone willing to work for them,” Hoshiko countered. She gave him a mischievous smile. “It isn't as though we’re allowing Druavrok ships to enter the system to trade.”
“It would be easy,” Griffin said. “You just hold a spacer’s family hostage until he returns with the intelligence you need. They may not think quite like us, Captain, but they do have working brains.”
“We can’t stay here either,” Hoshiko said. She nodded towards the display. “The enemy have, according to the intelligence reports, been running supplies into the Palsies System and tightening their blockade. And it’s only a two-week flight from Amstar.”
“Two weeks is a long time in interstellar warfare,” Griffin said. “If they are bracing themselves for an attack on Amstar ...”
“We can still hold the planet,” Hoshiko insisted. “They’d bleed themselves white trying to retake it, now the defences are stronger than they ever were. And every day they refrain from launching an attack the stronger the defences get. The main body of the Grand Fleet can leave, Commander, while the defences and support fleet hold the line.”
She altered the display, drawing out flight vectors. “We’ll depart on a course that suggests we’re heading deep into their territory,” she said. Griffin knew she’d been considering a deep-strike operation, but there was just too much chance of the enemy launching a major counter-offensive once they noticed the Grand Fleet was gone. “We’ll drop out of FTL here, two light years from Amstar, and wait. If the Druavroks do have a fleet lurking somewhere nearby, just waiting for us to uncover Amstar, we’ll be in position to get back to the system and take them by surprise.”
“They may see us coming,” Griffin said.
“It can’t be helped,” Hoshiko pointed out. “There’s no way we can sneak an entire fleet back into the system without being detected.
“If no enemy fleet materialises, we’ll alter course and head straight for Palsies. Once there, we trap the enemy ships against the planet’s defences and smash them before pulling out and heading straight for Amstar. If nothing goes wrong, we can then reload the ships and head to the next world under siege. The Druavroks will have to respond to us, which will give the rest of the Grand Alliance more time to prepare their defences.”
“And build more warships,” Griffin said. He had a great deal of respect for the spacers who would take freighters up against capital ships, but he was too experienced an officer to believe they had a chance in a straight fight. “We’re going to need them. And more trained officers and crew.”
He sighed. Training crewmen up to Solar Navy standards would take at least two years, assuming the infrastructure was put together at astonishing speed and the training officers were found from somewhere. Ideally, he would have sent the recruits back to Sol to attend the Academy, but that was obviously impossible. All he could really do was pull the training simulators out of the ships, assign a handful of crewmen to supervise and make sure the newly-minted crewmen received a lot of supervision on the job.
Not that they’ll be having it on the squadron, he thought, grimly. Even Captain Stuart hasn't overridden the prohibition on allowing non-Solarian crewmen to serve on our ships.
“We’ll overcome the problems,” Hoshiko assured him. “Did you imagine we’d get this far?”
Griffin shook his head. He had no illusions. The squadron had accomplished miracles, simply by taking the enemy by surprise, but the Druavroks were ready for them now and they still had hundreds of warships. Perhaps more, if they were throwing all of their resources into building up their fleet. They were a highly aggressive race, after all. The real question was if the Grand Alliance could out-produce the Druavroks before the Druavroks pushed forward and smashed it flat.
But we took the limiters off the fabbers, he reminded himself. Our industrial base will grow more powerful - much more powerful - over time.
“I’m merely worried about the future,” he said. “We still have no word from Sol.”
“We won’t for at least another eight months,” Hoshiko reminded him. “And even then, they’ll only know we set off to liberate Amstar and stop a genocide.”
Griffin shook his head slowly. Everything they’d done ... it might look very good, when they got back home, but that wouldn't be enough to keep them from an inquiry. His career - her career - might come to a screeching halt. Assuming, of course, that the human race didn't have too many other concerns. The Druavroks might win the war, snatch control of the fabbers and the unlocking codes and then start advancing towards Sol. They’d certainly have a
murderous grudge against the Solar Union.
“We’ll be fine,” Hoshiko said.
She cleared her throat. “Inform the fleet that we will be departing in two days,” she ordered, looking back at the display. “That should be just enough time to recall the crew from the fleshpots of Amstar, correct?”
“Just enough,” Griffin agreed, gravely. The humans on the planet had been more than merely welcoming. They’d taken the spacers into their homes ... hell, a string of romances had already broken out. In the long-term, he had a feeling that some of them would lead to marriage. “Captain, if they do have someone watching the system ...”
“Put the system into lockdown as soon as we issue the recall order,” Hoshiko said. “It won’t be enough to make certain the enemy can’t slip a message out, but at least we can detect any ship leaving the system.”
“Aye, Captain,” Griffin said. He rose. “I’ll get started at once.”
***
“Take us out of FTL,” Hoshiko ordered, quietly.
She leaned back in her command chair as the display rapidly filled with stars - and the endless wastes of interstellar space. It was rare, even for spacers, to gaze on the emptiness of interstellar space, light years from the light and warmth of a star. She’d heard stories of aliens who refused, for incomprehensible reasons, to use FTL and insisted on flying between the stars at sublight speed, but surely even they were reluctant to stare into the darkness. It made her feel small.
Pushing the thought aside, she watched the display as the sensors probed for flickers of gravimetric pulses that might announce the presence of an enemy fleet. There was nothing, but that was meaningless. The Druavroks might not have noticed - yet - that the fleet had departed ... or they might be on the other side of Amstar, well out of detection range. Or, for that matter, they might have tracked the fleet itself and guessed it was a trap. Assuming, of course, there was an enemy fleet lurking near the system.
But the more complex a tactical plan, she reminded herself, the greater the chance of something going wrong.
She scowled at the thought. She’d studied the Tokomak tactical manuals at the Academy, but they’d struck her as unimaginative, if not stupid. The Tokomak hadn't bothered to come up with fancy tactics, not when they wielded the biggest stick in the known universe. Their favoured tactic was merely to locate the enemy homeworld, launch an overwhelmingly powerful fleet towards it and force the defenders to stand in defence of their world, absorbing whatever losses were necessary to crush all resistance. They certainly didn't try to come up with clever tactics to knock a stronger foe off balance or avoid casualties as much as possible ...
We came up with more ideas than them before we even made it into space, she thought, crossly. Surely they had more ideas before they came up with the FTL drive.
The thought chilled her to the bone. Admiral Stuart - Uncle Mongo - was still in overall command of the Solar Navy, a post he’d held since Year 1. Admittedly, he’d built the Solar Navy up from a handful of outdated Galactic starships to a force that could take on the Tokomak and win, but he was still in command. What would happen, in the long run, if he never left command? It was possible, in theory; human-grade genetic enhancements and nanites conferred effective immortality, barring accidents. And what would happen when young and ambitious officers discovered that the pathway to the top was permanently blocked?
She scowled. The younger Tokomak had certainly become inured to waiting their turn, even though they had to know their turn might never come. But humans? Humans were aggressive, scheming bastards. How long would it be before junior officers were literally plotting to murder their senior officers? The Solar Union trained its officers to be aggressive, competent and determined, not to give up at the first hitch. What would happen when the Solar Navy stopped its steady expansion and there were fewer billets for experienced officers and crewmen? Human history suggested it wouldn't be pleasant.
“Captain,” Brown said. “I have not detected any ships leaving Amstar.”
Hoshiko nodded. The lockdown - a ban on all ships departing the system without permission - should have made it impossible for any prowling spy ship to use an innocent freighter as cover for a daring escape. They’d have to leave on their own, ensuring their detection. But it nothing showed up ...
You can't prove a negative, she thought, crossly. There’s no way to know there isn't an enemy fleet lurking near the system.
She ground her teeth in irritation. She understood why Commander Wilde and the other doubters wanted to be careful, but - in many ways - an enemy attack on Amstar would be a dream come true. The Druavroks might break through to high orbit and regain the planet, yet the victory would come at staggering cost. They’d be crushed the moment she returned with the Grand Fleet. And besides, she wanted - she needed - to go back on the offensive. Giving up the initiative was nothing less than accepting eventual defeat. She had space to trade for time, but the Grand Alliance might not feel the same way.
“Hold position here,” she ordered, coldly. “We will wait.”
She forced herself to concentrate, thinking through the list of possible alternatives for future operations. Taking the offensive into enemy space risked bruising encounters with fixed defences, although her preliminary recon reports suggested that the Druavroks had concentrated on building up their fleet at the expense of their planetary defences. The Solar Union had done the same, although - in their case - it had proved impossible to build fixed defences on Earth. But she could raid enemy ships, hack away at their industry and eventually wear down their defences and invade their homeworld.
But landing a military force on their homeworld might lead to a long and bloody conflict, she thought. It won’t be easy to force them to surrender.
“Captain,” Wilde said, an hour later. “There has been no sign of movement.”
“No, there hasn’t,” Hoshiko said. The enemy didn't have a fleet, then ... unless, of course, the enemy was being very cagey. Or they’d seen her fleet drop out of FTL and thought it was a trap. “I believe we can proceed to our destination.”
“Yes, Captain,” Wilde said. He didn't sound pleased, but he offered no argument. “I’ll order the fleet to proceed along the planned course.”
Hoshiko nodded. Unless they were very unlucky, which was possible, the enemy would lose track of the fleet long before it altered course and headed to Palsies. They’d have to assume she was heading straight into their territory, perhaps all the way to their homeworld. And then ... what would they do? If they understood the true nature of the alliance she’d built, they’d have no choice but to give chase. There was no target in her alliance that could make up for the loss of their homeworld.
“Take us back into FTL,” she ordered. There was no longer anything to be gained by waiting for the enemy. “And make sure the crew gets plenty of rest. They’re going to need it.”
“Aye, Captain,” Wilde said. “I’ll make sure the alpha and beta crews go straight to sleep.”
Hoshiko winced, inwardly. There was a hint of disapproval in his voice, despite his best attempts to keep it muted. The crew was pushed to the limits because she’d sent a third of her personnel to the Grand Fleet and they both knew it. She hadn’t quite broken the regulations concerning minimal numbers of personnel, but it was only a matter of time before something snapped. When it did, she knew it was going to be bad.
But there’s no choice, she told herself, as the fleet slipped back into FTL. Her evasive course would ensure plenty of downtime for the crew, but it wouldn't be enough. We have to keep pushing at the enemy or they’ll have a chance to take the offensive themselves.
She rose, then ordered Brown to shut down the CIC and strode back to her cabin. The only advantage to the fleet’s rag-tag nature was a shortage of paperwork, even though she had to trust alien captains to tell her if there was anything wrong with their ships. In the long term, something would have to be done to put everyone on a common standard ... assuming, of course, that the
Grand Alliance survived. Thankfully, the Tokomak had already standardised as much as they could, from war material to operational protocols.
“Record a message,” she ordered, once she was back in her cabin and the steward had brought her a cup of coffee. She couldn't go to sleep, not when her crew was badly overworked. It would set a very bad example. “Admiral Stuart. In line with my overall objective to keep the Druavroks from launching a counterattack against the Grand Alliance, I have ordered a major attack on ...”
She spoke calmly, running through the entire report. Technically, she should have sent it while they’d been orbiting Amstar, but she hadn't seen any real point. No matter what she did, any response would be a year out of date by the time it reached her. It was good, in many ways, that she was free of interference by people who had no idea just what it was like on the ground, but it was also frustrating. There was no hope of getting support from the rest of the navy.
Not that they’d send it to us even if they did have instant FTL communications, she thought, amused. This sector is far too far from Sol for them to be comfortable dispatching half of Home Fleet to back us up.
The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) Page 30