“Ms. Solovy, the Metigens have been nothing if not methodical. All our intel and analysis of their patterns indicate they will do precisely that.”
“I understand your point, but I’m telling you they won’t. See—” Alexis glanced over at her in exasperation “—can you get me an access point to the table?”
She nodded and entered a code in the control panel. This was normally where Alexis would launch into a disgusted tirade, but she seemed to be keeping the urge under control, for now. Or was it Valkyrie keeping it under control for her?
Alexis touched a fingertip to the panel and instantly a high-detail map of their sector of the galaxy sprung to life, complete with historical migration of the Metigens, Alliance and Federation force locations and conflict points. Though similar in most respects, it was not the map they had been using in the War Room.
“The Metigens abandoned Sagan 23.4 hours ago. Based on previously extrapolated speeds they should’ve arrived at Minskei a maximum of 9.1 hours ago, but they have not. Metigen ships began departing Xanadu before their defeat was assured, leaving behind already damaged ships to take the hits. Why aren’t they at Aesti yet? They should have reached it yesterday.”
Her hands sped across the map, spinning it to add new markers and zoom in on various locations. “Their force at Scythia isn’t as large as it should be—in the wake of our recent victories they should have sent more ships to a colony of Scythia’s patent strategic importance. Right now we can only account for the whereabouts of sixty-eight superdreadnoughts, while we know with certainty they can deploy a minimum of 102 and have every reason to believe they have more than double this number at their disposal.”
The pause was not long enough for anyone to interject. “All the ships formerly in the southeast—the ones at Sagan and Xanadu and the ones we assumed were heading for those little colonies or preparing to mass on New Cornwall—are moving north toward Romane. Expect the ships at Scythia to pull off and join them once they arrive if not sooner.
“All the ships in the northeast not at Elathan are waiting, somewhere. As soon as the ships from the south reach Romane, they will strike Seneca. It will be a massive and coordinated attack on the two largest centers of human civilization, save one. And when they win at Seneca and Romane, they will come for Earth.”
Miriam stared at the map. Everyone stared at the map as a ponderous silence descended over the room.
Gianno finally broke the silence. “I admit the large number of superdreadnoughts unaccounted for is troubling.”
Miriam notched her shoulders higher; Alexis was her daughter, but this was her dominion. “Alexis—Valkyrie, to whomever I’m speaking—up to this point the aliens have meticulously eliminated every colony as they came to it, no matter how small. Their progression has been a comprehensive sweep diagonally across settled space, and nothing behind that line is left untouched. This behavior has been consistent across thirty-five colonies. Why would they modify it now?”
Alexis regarded her with a…twinkle in her eye? It was difficult to be sure what with the eerie luminescence, but it resembled a twinkle. Was Alexis saying it was okay Miriam had challenged her publicly? She had no idea what to make of it.
“Because it is what their programming instructs them to do. We were to be subdued—cowered to the point we were no longer a threat—if it was possible to do so, and this directive is what informed their strategy until very recently. Ask yourself: is anything so frightening as watching that imposing line advance inexorably closer like some unstoppable force?
“If subduing us proved impossible, however, we were to be exterminated. Only now that we’ve cut off their resupply lines, the options for carrying out an extermination are limited. We’ve proven we can and will fight back, and damn hard. Given their and our dwindling resources, they need to take us out where we are strongest while they are strongest.
“If Seneca falls, if Romane falls, if Earth falls, they’ll be able to clean up the remaining worlds at their leisure without opposition. It is the only logical choice for a logical foe who finds its opponent unexpectedly resilient.”
Brennon’s pulse caught Miriam by surprise, though her expression gave nothing away.
She’s correct.
Yes, I believe she is.
Vranas dragged a hand down his mouth. “All right. How many superdreadnoughts are we talking about? How many can we anticipate seeing at Seneca and Romane together?”
Gianno answered him. “Maximum? 180-200.”
Alexis shook her head again. “245-263, and possibly as many as 304. The ships we can account for are hardly more than were here when the aliens began their offensive. At least eighty new superdreadnoughts traversed the portal before we shut down the factory, but depending on when they started sending reinforcements, there could be up to a hundred ships you haven’t yet seen.”
This time she reached out to Brennon.
Sir, even if we send the entire NE Command to assist, that is too many for our forces in the field—combined—to fight.
And what of our forces not in the field?
“Bloody Hell. If they were spread out perhaps we’d stand a chance, but concentrated in those numbers….”
The western fleets have arrived at their designated locations to form a barricade on the eastern border of the Central Quadrant. As we discussed, their mission is to protect the First Wave worlds.
Miriam contemplated her daughter, risking everything these last two months and now transformed in ways none of them could fully comprehend, when she had never wanted to fight. Miriam thought of David, sacrificing his life so 4,817 others might live, while knowing full well the cost.
I advise we send them, sir.
What portion of them?
All of them.
The discussion continued around her while she waited on his reply.
Agreed. What about SE Command?
It has borne the brunt of the aliens’ push thus far and its forces are all but decimated. We’ll leave skeleton formations at New Cornwall and New Columbia and pull the rest in to the Central Quadrant.
Brennon cleared his throat. “Pending the outcome at Scythia, we’ll send the NE Command to assist in defending Seneca. In addition, the formations from the NW and SW Commands currently guarding the Central Quadrant will defend Romane.”
It took Vranas a beat to contain his surprise; Gianno, not so much. She leveled her gaze on Miriam. “And Sol/Central Command?”
“It will join NE Command at Seneca.”
She hadn’t consulted Brennon first…but he merely raised an eyebrow in what appeared to be morbid amusement.
Alexis pivoted to her. “You would do that? You would send the entire Earth fleet to defend Seneca?”
You said that aloud, dear. “Not only would I, I intend to issue the order the instant this meeting is concluded. If this is the battle that will decide our fate, we must treat it accordingly. We must be all in.”
Vranas nodded with appropriate gravitas. “Then if this is to be our end, it will be an honorable one for we will stand united at last. I won’t mind such a statement on my epitaph.”
Miriam turned back to Alexis. “How long do we have?”
Alexis stared at her in blatant disbelief for another second before shifting her focus to the others.
“Based on the last sighting of superdreadnoughts at Sagan—which is the furthest location they’ve gathered in strength recently—if they wait for all their ships to arrive to begin their assault? Thirty to thirty-five hours. If they don’t? A day at most.”
33
SCYTHIA
EARTH ALLIANCE COLONY
* * *
SCYTHIA’S COPPER SUN REFLECTED brilliantly off the lustrous slate hull of the EAS Lexington as it banked hard across the EAS Orion’s viewport, triggering a wave of deja vu in Colonel Malcolm Jenner’s brain.
Wasn’t I just here?
He blinked and shook it off. “Weapons, target the superdreadnought chasing the Lexington and giv
e them some breathing room.”
“Yes, sir!”
He had been here what seemed like merely days ago, joining the Alliance NE Regional Command ships as they prepared for the offensive at Messium and stepping aboard the Orion for the first time. Yet a great deal had changed since that day.
Communications and exanet access were now one hundred percent restored, which likely counted for more than all the other changes combined. He, the Orion and all their forces were now battle-tested against the aliens. With each encounter they learned more about how to combat the Metigen ships; they got smarter and refined their tactics. Also, they were no longer at war with the Federation. Instead they now fought, if not alongside, at least in concert with them.
His fingers tightened on the railing as the ship shuddered from the impact of the superdreadnought’s fire. One thing hadn’t changed—the enemy’s weapons still packed a painful punch. “Increase forward shields to maximum and hold on. Lexington will be hitting it from the other side in two seconds.”
“Hull breach, Deck Three port side—sealed off.”
Malcolm allowed himself a small smile. His battle-tested crew really had upped their game to meld into an efficient and effective team. It seemed as if he rarely had to give the orders anymore, for they had already taken care of whatever he would have requested.
The laser swerved away from them, and he gave a silent sigh of relief. “Return power to normal distribution and let the shields recharge. Reverse course 0.6 megameters—this target’s about to blow.”
And blow it did, erupting in the now familiar crimson and charcoal before the white nova. The viewport filters darkened to prevent them from being blinded, but even so it was a stunning sight, familiar or no.
Yet another fourteen superdreadnoughts remained above Scythia. The battle was not won, but rather only beginning.
Malcolm diverted his attention from the combat raging outside long enough to read the unsigned message again in mild puzzlement.
Colonel Jenner,
General O’Connell’s next target is Krysk, after aborting planned Elathan attack due to alien presence. Anticipated arrival in 22-28 hours. Intervention requested if feasible.
Why had it come to him of all people? His stint in NW Command had been a brief one during which he’d had little opportunity to make friends or even acquaintances. He thought on it then contacted the officer staffing the comms hub on Deck 3. “Lieutenant, I’m forwarding you a message I received. I need a trace and any other identifying information you can get from it.”
“Yes, sir. Priority?”
“Below the alien ships outside, above everything else.”
One advantage of his new rank was access to far more classified intel. The terse briefings coming out of EASC on General O’Connell’s activities had left him appalled and disgusted. But, not being in a position to do anything to stop the man and compartmentalization being a necessary skill in wartime, he’d filed the unfortunate news away and concentrated on protecting the largest Alliance colony for 2.5 kpcs…well the largest other than Messium. But Messium was lost.
The reminder sent him back to the conflict at hand. He exhaled and began assessing the battlefield anew.
Having the opportunity to set up a defensive posture ahead of time made for a significantly improved experience over Messium. The fully-functional orbital arrays essentially added the firepower of multiple dreadnoughts to their arsenal. Further, he took comfort in the fact they didn’t have to worry about the death toll on the planet below rising every minute they failed to achieve victory. When added to operational comms and a decent amount of experience, their odds of success were on the increase.
None of which meant any of this was remotely easy.
“Colonel, I’ve got the information you wanted.”
That was fast. “Go ahead.”
“I can’t identify the sender—it’s masked well—but the source is the EAS Akagi.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
The Akagi was off the grid and unreachable, or it had been as of the last briefing. He accessed the EASC secure records database and pulled up the roster of the Akagi at its departure, then scanned the list. Two or three vaguely familiar names, but none…hmm.
Special Operations Detail: Captain Brooklyn Harper, 1st NW MSO Platoon
He didn’t know Harper measurably better than the other names he recognized, but she was the only one who would have found a way to get a message out through a blocking field. Of this he had no doubt.
“XO, you have command. I need a moment.”
“Yes, sir.”
The woman had to be under tremendous stress—though at least she wasn’t currently subject to enemy fire—but Admiral Solovy accepted his holocomm request immediately.
“Colonel Jenner. Good to see you’re surviving. How goes Scythia?”
“Ugly. Still, I think we’re holding our own—and hopefully will continue doing so until Admiral Rychen arrives. But that’s not why I contacted you. I received a message from someone onboard the Akagi with General O’Connell.”
Her gaze locked on his, interest keen in her eyes. “You did? As of four minutes ago his force was still operating under a communications blocking field.”
“I assume she managed to circumvent it. She’s MSO, so it would be in her skillset. It says his next target is Krysk and requests intervention.”
“Understood. When?”
“The message states 22-28 hours, but given the circumstances the content may be somewhat stale.”
“Do you trust the information?”
He considered the question before answering. “The person who I believe sent this isn’t someone who would condone General O’Connell’s actions, much less his tactics. I have every reason to believe she’d want him stopped.”
“Thank you, this is extremely valuable intel. I’ll do everything I can to see he’s apprehended and his ships brought under our control. Oh, and Colonel? You might like to know she’s alive and unharmed. For today anyway.”
“Do you mean—”
“Goodbye, Colonel.”
He was left staring at empty air. She could only mean Alex, but for some reason this fact needed to be kept secret. Alex had been cleared of any wrongdoing weeks ago, so he couldn’t fathom why that may be.
An explosion flared in the viewport and sent a shudder through the bridge. The thought faded to the background as the conflict again took center stage. “XO, you stand relieved. Helmsman Paena, take us 30° starboard. Let’s find ourselves a new target.”
SENECA
CAVARE, MILITARY HEADQUARTERS
Field Marshal Gianno frowned at the flashing indicator on the secure channel. The Metigen War Council conference and its deluge of revelations had ended less than half an hour ago, the follow-up with Vranas to process the aftermath minutes ago.
She redirected an approaching personnel officer and activated the holo. Not knowing who else might be present, she maintained a degree of formality. “Admiral Solovy, do you have more information to share? I confess to still be wrangling the fallout from our previous meeting.”
“As am I. I’m afraid this concerns our other problem.”
There was, for good or ill, only one of those. “Oh?”
“I’ve come into possession of reasonably reliable intel that General O’Connell’s next target is Krysk. He intended to hit Elathan, but abandoned the plan for obvious reasons.”
Outwardly Gianno took the news as she took all news: unflappably. Inwardly may be another story. “This is a problem. Do you know when he plans to begin the assault?”
“Perhaps as early as twenty hours, but likely a few hours longer.”
“We expect to be engaged in full-scale warfare against the Metigens above Seneca in scarcely more than twenty hours.”
“I am aware of that. Do you have a squadron or two you can spare to take him out?”
“Not even close. We’ve burned a large number of ships at Elathan and Nystad, and we need eve
ry remaining one and then some to defend Seneca.”
A ‘large number’ was in fact a colossal understatement. Elathan appeared to be saved, for today at least, but the cost in ships and lives was unacceptably high. She didn’t share this with Miriam, however, lest the woman decide Seneca fielding such reduced forces meant defending the planet would be a lost cause and recall the Alliance fleets. She liked Miriam, but they were not planning a dinner party here.
“Krysk is home to a sizeable military base. Given this kind of warning, those stationed there should be able to dispatch O’Connell’s vessels in short order.”
“It’s now a ghost town. Its full complement of ships have been brought east to Seneca.” To replace some portion of the ships lost at Elathan. “You could send your own squadron after him. You have my permission.”
“I would dearly love to do so. Unfortunately, there is a problem with the scenario: it’s too late. We pulled the NW formations off the border upon the peace accord, and I no longer have any ships close. Krysk is too significant a detour for those now being directed to Seneca. In any event, I know how many ships you lost at Elathan. You not only need all of your functioning ships to be at Seneca when the Metigens attack or your forces will be decimated before we can get there—you very badly need the entirety of our ships to get there.”
Gianno bit back a rare curse. So much for bluffing.
Miriam continued on as if she hadn’t just called Eleni to task in fine fashion. “And of course were I to send any ships, the Krysk orbital arrays would fire on them upon their arrival. I understand why—it’s the choice you had to make and one you require to still be in effect when O’Connell attacks. But the fact remains.”
Regrettably, it did. If Miriam couldn’t track the renegades, the only option was for the Alliance to engage them at Krysk. And with the arrays in the mix there was no scenario in which that wasn’t suicide for anything less than a brigade-sized force.
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