Empire Ascendant

by Dietmar Wehr

  Delisani Empire Capital (New Danzig):

  Delisani threw the latest Intel report against the wall and let out a curse. His own ambassador was working against him! The ambassador’s reports said everything was quiet and normal, but his empire’s intelligence agents operating in Atlantia had obtained proof that the ambassador had been negotiating with the King over when and how his empire would attack the TCE. Either the intelligence was fabricated, or the ambassador was secretly working for someone else now, and if that was so, Delisani very much doubted that the someone was the Republic of Garnett. It made far more sense that Tanaka was the other conspirator. And as for the validity of that intelligence report, the claim that the two conspirators had discussed a military operation against the TCE that had already happened jived quite nicely with a different Intel report that quite a few ships of the Atlantian Navy had disappeared from view for an unusually long while. So, all the available data suggested that the ambassador was betraying him.

  He called up the personnel file on the ambassador and very quickly reached his ‘aha’ moment. Now it all made sense: the son’s murder, his own intervention to protect the killer. Somehow the father must have discovered what he, Delisani, had done and was seeking revenge. Any sympathy for the man’s loss of his son was overpowered by Delisani’s anger at the man’s complete disregard for the death of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people who had had nothing to do with his son’s murder or the cover up. There was no doubt that he would have to take some action. Against the ambassador for sure and against Tanaka maybe. He called for the heads of his Navy and Intelligence Section.

  Kingdom of Atlantia Capital (Avalon):

  King Trevor stared at his Interior Minister, momentarily paralyzed with shock. The Delisani Ambassador had been murdered and evidence pointed to a recent immigrant from Tanaka’s Shogunate. The suspect had to be a covert operative. The murder only made sense if Tanaka had somehow discovered his dealings with Delisani. But even so, he hadn’t thought that Tanaka was willing to go that far. There were unwritten rules that governed behavior between nations and going after someone else’s ambassador was considered taboo. After all, they were only the messengers. And speaking of messengers, the Ambassador had managed to get himself killed before he could deliver Delisani’s answer to the King’s proposal. Everything was up in the air now. Was his Navy going to get more Type 7 warheads? Would the Delisani Empire strike the first blow against the bitch, Brandenburg? And how secure was the secret of the first ambush now that a lot of people would be looking and listening for any bit of information about the Ambassador? All good questions without any answers, and he hated not knowing the answers. And then there was the question of what, if anything, he should or could do about Tanaka. At the moment, the answer to that was not very much. He would make sure, though, that the Delisani Embassy received all the data about the Shogunate’s probable involvement in their ambassador’s murder. The last thing he needed was for Delisani to come to the conclusion that King Trevor had ordered the hit.

  Tau Ceti Empire Capital (Corona):

  Brandenburg shook her head in disbelief. The news of the murder of the Delisani Empire Ambassador was so shocking that she didn’t want to believe it. If a precedent against the inviolability of diplomatic personnel had been established, then they were now on a slippery slope to chaos. She looked at Delacor.

  “Okay, who did it? Tanaka or Delisani?” Before Delacor could answer, she added, “or us?”

  Delacor’s eyes opened wide. “God no, not us! The evidence points to Tanaka, but that doesn’t mean he ordered it. King Trevor’s people could have fabricated the evidence, and Delisani’s people could have done that too, although why he would want to kill his own ambassador is unclear. Delisani is just cold-blooded enough to sacrifice one of his own people if the objective was tempting enough, but if his goal was to trigger a war between Atlantia and the Shogunate, I don’t see this killing, by itself, accomplishing that goal. It would take a lot more than one death to goad King Trevor into taking on the Shogunate, and Tanaka couldn’t care less if people thought he’d ordered the assassination, regardless of whether he did or not.”

  Brandenburg responded after she’d thought that over for a little while. “I don’t like all this sudden activity in Atlantia. Maybe we should strengthen Terranova’s Task Force just in case somebody starts shooting. What can we send him?”

  Delacor closed her eyes for a second as she used her neural net to send a data request to be displayed on the data tablet she pulled from her pocket. “We could redeploy the Yamato from the Garnett sector to TF2.2. Admiral Xavier will scream bloody murder about having to shift his flag to a mere battlecruiser, but that will give Admiral Terranova two battleships and more than offset the loss of Nimitz.”

  “Yes, give the necessary orders. If only all this nonsense had waited another six months, we’d have finished testing the new Mark 10 missile configuration and started mass production. I’ll feel a lot better about a possible military confrontation when the Mark 10s are fully deployed.”

  “I would too, but we can start mass production now, Empress.”

  “But the testing program isn’t finished yet.”

  “No, not completely, but the last three prototypes performed flawlessly. The requirement for a minimum of five consecutive successful tests is only a guideline, not a law. Ramping up mass production will take a couple of weeks, and two more prototypes can be tested within that time period if we really push hard. If there are any last-minute bugs detected, the first few production versions can be retro-fitted with the fix as needed, and the rest will be built with the fix from the start.”

  “All right. Notify Galactic Aerospace to get the production line set up and speed up the testing.”

  “I’d like to change Admiral Terranova’s rules of engagement,” said Delacor after hesitating.

  “Oh? To what?”

  “Right now, he’s supposed to wait until his forces are fired upon before firing back. I’ll like him to have the flexibility to fire first, even if he hasn’t been able to positively identify ships that are acting in an aggressive manner.”

  “No. Either the aggressor fires first or Marcus gets confirmation of who the aggressor ships belong to before he fires back. We need to figure out exactly who is maneuvering against us before we commit to a war. Self-defense is one thing. I won’t tie his hands if the other side shoots first, but if an unknown ship or group of ships arrives in his system and doesn’t fire on him, then I don’t want him getting trigger happy. The unknown ships could be meant as a provocation to get us into a war before we’re ready. Make sure he understands that, Elona.”

  “I will, Empress.”

  Brandenburg turned to look out her office window. “I need all the time I can get. Let’s hope the Gods of War are feeling generous.”

  Chapter Four

  Sheffield star system, Task Force 7 flagship Indomitable:

  Fifteen days later.

  Admiral of the Red Sir Stanley Owen happened to be visiting his flagship’s Bridge and was chatting with its on-duty personnel when the Detection Station issued a warning alert.

  “Multiple gravity wakes detected, Captain,” said the tactical officer. Both the Admiral and the Captain turned to look at the main display, which was now showing the updated tactical situation. Task Force 7, comprised of the heavy cruisers Indomitable, Formidable, Defiant and Undaunted, was orbiting the system’s inhabited planet. The source of the waves was on a bearing that Owens thought of as the 11 o’clock position. Computing the distance would have to wait until sensors detected the Cherenkov Radiation from those ships. Since gravity waves travelled faster than light waves, the time interval between detection could be used to calculate how far away the ships were when they dropped out of uber-space. And although gravity waves travelled fast, they weren’t instantaneous. Those ships would be a lot closer by the time their wakes were detected.

  “I think we have to assume that’s a hostile force, Admiral,�
� said Captain Jenkins in a low voice.

  Owens nodded, his expression grim. “I agree, Jeremy. As soon as I return to the Flag Bridge, the Task Force will go to Battle Stations, and we’ll be leaving orbit as soon as we possibly can. Thank God we have a courier in orbit that can carry news of this back to Atlantia. I would have hated having to detach one of my four ships just to notify His Majesty that his Kingdom is under attack. Good luck to you, Jeremy,”

  “Good luck to us all, Admiral.”

  Owens nodded, and as he turned away to head for the exit, he said in almost a whisper, “We’re going to need it.”

  When he entered the Flag Bridge, which was one level down from the ship’s Main Bridge, the tension level was palpable. Everyone was looking to him for orders. The first few were easy.

  “Signal the Task Force to go to Battle Stations. FTO, I want you to consult with FAO and come up with a recommended interception vector and plan of attack. I want to speak to whoever’s in command of that courier. Switch the video to my number one screen, Com.” He pretended not to notice the expressions of relief on their faces as their need for confirmation that he knew what he was doing was satisfied. The fact was he had never commanded a task force in a real battle before, and he was scared of fucking it up. For the first time in his life, he wished he wasn’t the King’s cousin. Face it, Stanley. You’re probably in over your head. Jenkins has a better grasp of fleet tactics than you do. If you had the guts, you’d turn command of the task force over to him, but you won’t. You love the respect that comes with the rank and title too much. He told that inner voice to shut up.

  “Commander Richards on screen one, Admiral,” said the com officer.

  By this time, Owens was seated in his Command Station chair. He suddenly realized that he should be ordering everyone to put on their pressure suits, himself included, but first things first.

  “Commander, it appears that this system is under attack by a force the size and identity of which is still unknown. I’m ordering you to break out of orbit immediately and take this news to Atlantia. Task Force Seven will attempt an interception. Any questions?”

  “No, Admiral. We’re boosting now.”

  “That’s good. TF7 out.”

  With the preliminaries out of the way, he ordered everyone to don their pressure suits. In theory, they would protect the crew from explosive decompression if the hull was breached, but Owen had the nagging suspicion that anything powerful enough to breach the hull would kill everyone nearby too.

  By the time he had his suit on, the tactical situation had clarified a bit. From the gravity wakes, the tactical computer had determined there were six ships that were somewhere in the range of 390,000 to 520,000 tonnes each. They were decelerating at an even 5,000Gs, which could only be generated by warships. But the biggest surprise was their vector. They appeared to be heading directly for the planet, and at their current rate of deceleration, the ships would end up going slow enough to enter orbit if they wanted.

  It didn’t take the FTO and FAO long to come up with recommendations. Both of them came over to stand next to Owens.

  “Both of us agree that they probably want to enter orbit in order to bombard the planet. If that’s their intention, then they’ll fire on us the second they get good targeting data. Our recommendation is to move the task force off to the side so that any enemy missiles that miss us won’t hit the planet,” said the FTO.

  Owens tried his best not to let his expression show his embarrassment at not having figured out that basic concept by himself.

  Before Owens could reply, the FAO’s station emitted a short beep. The officer quickly stepped over to take a look. “We finally detected their CR emissions, Admiral. With the time interval between CR and GW detection and their triangulated rate of deceleration, AstroComp gives a preliminary ETA of 477 seconds from CR contact. That gives us about seven and a half minutes until they reach us.”

  Owens nodded. “Yes, of course. So, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m delegating tactical firing and maneuvering authority to you, FTO. You supervise the interception effort for the task force and execute when you think it’s time.”

  The sudden look of surprise on the officer’s face quickly disappeared. The Admiral had just given him what every tactical officer dreamed of: a free hand to fight a major battle.

  “Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!”

  “Let’s get back to our stations,” said Owens quickly.

  The FAO watched the FTO carefully as he settled back down at the Tactical Station. He wasn’t fooled by the Admiral’s gesture. The FTO might have the flexibility he wanted, but he was also now saddled with the responsibility for the success or failure of the planet’s defense, and if the battle went badly, the FTO would end up taking the blame. Sir Stanley Owens had neatly covered his own ass.

  Owens watched carefully as TF7 boosted out of orbit by using its EG-drives and then switching to L-drives when the correct vector had been achieved. Once enough distance had been put between the task force and the planet, the L-drives would be shut down, and the ships would turn to face the enemy. In situations like this, he knew that the attacking fleet’s residual velocity would give it a decided tactical advantage. Both fleets would turn on their radars when the distance between them dropped low enough that radar signals could be used effectively. At that point, firing the first missile volley as quickly as possible could be decisive. With the residual velocity of the incoming ships added to their own missile acceleration of over 8000Gs, those missiles would cover the intervening space in less than 20 seconds. TF7’s missiles, on the other hand, would be starting with zero velocity for all practical purposes and would take almost twice as long to reach their targets.

  “The Task Force is in position and re-orienting to face the enemy,” said the FTO in a louder than normal voice. “First missile volley will be anti-ship. Reloads will be anti-missile.”

  That jogged Owens’ memory. At the slow velocity that his ships now had, they were virtually sitting ducks. Avoiding missile hits depended on thinning the enemy missile volley with anti-missile missiles and hopefully picking off the leakers with point-defense lasers. There might be just enough time to fire one volley of anti-ship missiles to threaten the intruders plus another volley of interceptor missiles.

  “Scanning has commenced. So, have they! Firing now!” The FTO’s voice had become ragged with stress. Owens was glad he didn’t have to talk now. This battle was suddenly happening far faster than he had expected, and he knew his voice would be ragged—but from fear, not battle stress.

  “SIXTY! REPEAT, SIXTY INCOMING! SECOND VOLLEY FIRING IN…TWO…ONE…NOW! MISSILE DEFENSES ACTI—”

  The FTO’s voice was cut off as Indomitable heaved so violently that Owens screamed with terror. All power to the Flag Bridge failed for a few terrible seconds. Auxiliary power brought the lights and some of the equipment back on, but it was obvious to Owens that Indomitable had been hit and hit hard. It took him a few seconds to realize that the tactical display was still dark.

  “What’s happening?” he shouted.

  “Major damage! We’re still figuring out how bad! I’ll brief you as soon as I have a more complete picture, Admiral!” At first Owens couldn’t understand why the FTO’s voice sounded so strange. Then he realized it had been Captain Jenkins communicating from the Main Bridge. Indomitable was his responsibility, not the FTO’s.

  “Do that!” snarled Owens, his tone intended to hide his fear. “Somebody get tactical back on line, and right now, goddammit!”

  As the seconds passed without another hit, Owens began to relax. Enough time had passed that the enemy fleet was past them and the planet. At their velocity, firing missiles at targets behind them would be difficult. There was a better than even chance the battle was over, unless those six battlecruisers swung around for another pass, which would take some time. He prayed to the Gods of War that the enemy force kept right on going. He had survived the first exchange of fire, and he didn’t want to te
mpt fate again.

  It was another five minutes before the situation cleared up. Indomitable was badly damaged but could maneuver under EG-drive and make it back into orbit. Defiant and Formidable were expanding clouds of radioactive gases. Undaunted was a crippled wreck, unable to maneuver. Its crew were already abandoning ship in life pods. Task Force Seven was gone as an effective force. Even the flagship could no longer be considered battle worthy, given its limited maneuverability and the fact that its ability to fire missiles was now down to just one missile tube.

  The enemy force had indeed continued on in a more or less straight vector and was accelerating away. None of the six ships displayed any sign of damage. Confirmation that the battle was really over generated a sense of relief so intense that Owens almost fainted. There was now literally nothing left for him to do. Indomitable was already doing the only thing it could do, and Jenkins was responsible for his ship. Owens took a deep breath and began to mentally compose his After-Action report that would put the blame for this disastrous battle squarely on the FTO’s shoulders.

  Kingdom of Atlantia Capital (Avalon):