by Jay Allan
Lille looked downcast. “That seems unlikely.”
“Unlikely, perhaps, but not impossible. I will share a closely-held secret with you, one I have withheld even from the Presidium. The work is nearly done. In a brief time, perhaps a few months, we will be ready to move forward.”
“That is amazing.” Lille was rarely surprised, but even his rigid control couldn’t hide his shock at his friend’s words. “I had heard we were making some progress, but I had no idea we were close to completion.”
“Virtually no one does. Even the crews working on various aspects are unaware of the progress made by their counterparts. There can be no mistakes here, Ricard, none of the miscalculations that have impacted our previous operations.”
“You are right, Gaston. We are fortunate that your efforts appear to have borne fruit. The pulsar is powerful enough to destroy the entire Confederation fleet. If you are able to move it, we can go all the way to Megara, if need be. The conquest of the Confederation, or even a substantial part of it, would be of tremendous value in restoring our economy as well.”
“My thinking, exactly. We have few options. We cannot outlast the enemy in a stalemate. The Union is far closer to collapse than I have allowed anyone to know. This is our last chance to salvage anything from this war but total ruin. The absorption of the Confederation, or even the conquest of a significant portion, will give us the productive capacity to restore stability.”
The two men were quiet for a moment before Lille broke the silence. “Do we have months? Months to complete the infrastructure to move the pulsar…and more to move forward? Even if we drive the Confeds before us, it will still take considerable time to push into their vital areas, to force capitulation or even an advantageous peace. And, if their fleets fall back, rather than commit to a single fight, they could delay us further.”
“That is another reason I called you here, Ricard…the primary reason, actually. I must go to the front. I must make sure everything moves as quickly as possible. But we also need time. This situation on Barroux is extremely troublesome. There is problematic unrest on many worlds now, but the loss of a provincial capital, the entire planet in the hands of traitors…it is intolerable. I have managed to keep the truth from the Presidium, but I cannot maintain that for long. We must crush the rebellion there, and we must do it in a way that sends a message to those who would rise up against their government.”
“I agree…wholeheartedly. But, what does that have to do with me? It is a job for Foudre Rouge, and for fleet units.”
“Normally, that would be true. But this matter is too sensitive to trust to any but my most reliable agents. I know you are not primarily a military officer, but you do carry a commission.”
“That is just a formality, Gaston, you know that.”
“Yes, but I cannot focus on Barroux. I must go to the front and ensure that the work on the pulsar is completed on time. I need someone I can trust to handle Barroux. I need you, Ricard. I don’t have fleet units to spare, not many at least, but you can have all the Foudre Rouge you want…and any officers you select. I am confident in your ability to keep operations on Barroux quiet, and to handle anyone who threatens that discretion.”
Lille sat for a moment, still and quiet. It was clear that he didn’t like it. “How much flexibility do I have as far as…tactics I may employ?”
Villieneuve stared across the table. “Total. You may do whatever you feel it takes to recapture Barroux and restore order.”
“Anything?”
“Anything. Put the fear of the night back into them. Just see that the rebellion there is crushed…before it spreads.”
Lille nodded. “Very well, Gaston. I will go to Barroux.”
Villieneuve smiled. Thank you, my friend. With you in charge there, I can focus on the pulsar, on ending this war.”
He sat for a moment, his smile slowly fading. His plan to invade the Confederation, to move the pulsar forward…it was as well-conceived as he could make it. But it was far from foolproof. He’d given considerable thought to what he would do if it failed.
He looked again at his friend, trying to decide for a moment if he wanted to tell him, to trust him with his backup plan. He almost held his tongue, but he knew he’d need Lille to help carry it off if the time came.
“I have another plan, Ricard, in case we are unable to develop the movement system for the pulsar in time. It is not as appealing a solution as a military victory, but perhaps a way to survive if the worst happens.” He paused, pushing back another wave of uncertainty. Then he told Lille everything he had in mind.
Chapter Four
Fleet Base Grimaldi
Orbiting Krakus II
Krakus System
Year 313 AC
“At least eighteen months, Admiral…and that assumes no unexpected problems.” Travis paused. “And, based on what I saw, I wouldn’t make that assumption.”
Striker sat at the end of the conference table. He was supposed to be on bedrest between therapy sessions, but he’d demanded a mobile power chair, and he’d used it to terrorize the staff just about everywhere on Grimaldi he could reach in it. “What are the issues, Captain? If anyone out there is failing to do their duty…” His words trailed off, but Barron had no doubt what would have followed had they not.
“No, sir, it’s not really that. No one I saw is impeding completion. It’s just…well, Admiral, that’s such a remote area. Everything has to be brought in from so far, and there is so little native industry. The Union hit us in several systems when they launched their initial invasion, but their forces all came through the Bottleneck before they split. In four wars with the Union, no major assault force has come through these outer systems. The Periphery is even less developed than the Rim, and it’s no better across the border in Union space. Right now, we’re just dealing with our own systems, but if we invade there, we’ll be right back in the same situation, stalled and trying to build support infrastructure on their backwater planets…which are even worse than our own.”
“Your insights are spot on, Captain, save for one problem. We have no choice. The Bottleneck has long been considered the only practical invasion route into the Union, one featured in every plan developed by the general staff for a century. We always knew any advance would encounter significant resistance there. The Union fortifications are substantial. But this new weapon is something entirely different. We’ve analyzed it a hundred different ways, and we’ve come up with the same result. Any assault against it is suicide. The whole fleet would be destroyed before we got a ship in range.”
“Of course, Admiral. I realize that.” Travis hesitated, and Barron shot her a quick nod. “But I feel you need to consider exactly what an invasion along the peripheral route would entail. Can we sustain an effort that lasts another two years before we can even launch the operation? Then, perhaps another two years of delay midway through, as we built another series of bases on occupied systems? And, what of Grimaldi and the standard route between the Union and the Confederation? What is to stop the enemy from invading once our own fleet is bogged down out on the Periphery? It’s not like we’ll be able to quickly shift forces back and forth between fronts.”
“Captain, I understand everything you are saying. I agree with every word. But, I’m afraid we are short on options. We can’t invade through the Bottleneck, so we must find a way to make an advance work through the Periphery.”
“Is it possible to negotiate a peace, Admiral?” Barron asked. “The Union fleet is certainly battered, and I have to believe their economy is in even worse shape. Normally, I wouldn’t be for a resolution that practically guarantees yet another war, but perhaps now, there is no better alternative.”
“From what Gary Holsten has told me, the Union is demanding unacceptable terms. Now that they have their superweapon, they feel they have the upper hand.”
“What terms, sir?” This was the first Barron had heard of potential peace talks, or for that matter of communications dir
ectly between Holsten and Striker since the admiral emerged from his coma.
“They’re demanding we cede half a dozen planets and pay them reparations…massive reparations. They want Grimaldi disassembled and the frontier disarmed…and they want to impose fleet tonnage limits.”
“So, they failed to conquer us this time, but they want to make sure the next war is a walkover.”
“Basically…yes.”
“Perhaps we should just let the stalemate continue, Admiral.” Barron glanced over at Travis and then back to Striker. “I don’t like the idea any better than you, but we’ve got the Alliance on our side now, and our production is almost certainly greater than theirs. We might be able to outlast them. Indeed, we almost certainly can, if what little I’ve heard about their economic situation is true.”
Striker shook his head. “Even assuming we could restrain the Senate, convince the population to accept a cold war, the problem is the same one stopping us from hitting the Bottleneck. That ancient weapon they found. How long do we give them to study it, to figure out how it works? The Union doesn’t have our industrial capacity, but they’ve got scientists and engineers too. If we give them enough time, they’ll figure out how it works. How to build more. Then, we’re in a world of hurt.”
Barron sighed softly. “I hadn’t really thought that through, sir.” He paused. “But that doesn’t solve the problem of how to invade along the Periphery while also holding this border. Grimaldi is strong, but it can’t hold back a real Union assault without fleet support…and, possibly worse, it’s not our version of the Bottleneck, a system where all the transit points converge. The Krakus system is the likeliest invasion route in this sector, but not the only one. And none of the other frontier bases pack close to the punch Grimaldi does. Do we have enough ships to properly garrison this border, while simultaneously launching a full-scale invasion on the other?” His tone suggested he already knew the answer.
“We come to the heart of the matter, Ty. We have no good options. The Periphery invasion plan was begun while I was unconscious. Gary Holsten was the driving force behind it, not so much because he considered it viable, but because he needed something to control the Senate. Apparently, there had been considerable discussion about ordering a full-scale invasion through the Bottleneck, an attempt to rush the pulsar and destroy it.”
“That would be suicide.”
“Yes, it would. But convincing Senators of that is another matter. They see the vast expenditures, the steady flow of new ships coming to the front, the vastly increasing war debt. They hear constituents screaming for peace. Then, they figure the military is exaggerating, that a strong enough attack, especially with Alliance support, can end the war in one quick stroke.”
“So, we’re spending billions building supply bases we aren’t going to use?” Travis had been silent for a few minutes, but now she jumped back in.
“I wouldn’t say that, Captain. In the end, some kind of invasion through the Periphery may well be our only real choice. But the initial impetus was more to make it appear we had a well-developed plan in place to relieve the political pressure.”
Striker was silent for a moment. Then he said softly, “I am going to tell you both something that is highly classified. What I say is not to leave this room. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Of course, Admiral.”
Striker nodded. “Holsten and his people have been monitoring the status of the pulsar and the Union forces at the Bottleneck.”
“Monitoring? Does he have spies among the Union forces?”
“I couldn’t say, Ty. Probably some, though I suspect the problem there is one of communication. I’m afraid Gary doesn’t share that kind of information, even with me. But he has been sending scouts to the system.”
“Scouts? How is that possible?” Grimaldi and the fleet were a considerable distance from the Bottleneck, and Barron couldn’t conceive how any kind of scoutships large enough to make the trip could reach the system and then escape.
“Do you remember when Commander Stockton flew a modified fighter through multiple systems to warn the fleet of the enemy’s advance?”
Barron nodded. It had been years before, just after Dauntless had returned from Archellia. “Of course.”
“I’m afraid that’s why you lost Commander Stockton as your strike force leader, Captain Travis. Gary needed him more.”
Barron blinked. “You mean Stockton…”
“Yes, he has trained a group of pilots to run long-range scouting missions.”
“I could see a fighter slipping by once in a while, but the risk…”
“The casualty rates have been very high.”
“Jake…”
“Commander Stockton is fine, Ty. In fact, he’s right here on Grimaldi, though his presence is classified…which is why you didn’t know.”
Barron was taken aback. He’d thought he was privy to everything going on at Grimaldi, but now he realized the supposedly incapacitated Striker had been up to far more than he’d known. “This is a surprise, certainly, Admiral, but I’m not sure how it has a direct effect on our course of action.”
“We have greater concerns, Ty, than the enemy building more pulsars. That, at least, would almost certainly take years. But the last scouting mission has returned with some disturbing intel.”
Barron and Travis were silent, looking across at Striker.
“The fighters are able to obtain only long-range scans, and quick ones at that, but they got enough to cause considerable worry. There is an elaborate superstructure around the pulsar and the reactors that power it. The enemy is building something. More accurately, they are erecting a whole series of constructs.”
“Constructs?”
“Yes, Ty. Gary’s people have analyzed the intel. The data is sketchy, but they’ve come to an unsettling conclusion. It appears they are building a series of engines and support structures.” He paused, his eyes moving from Barron to Travis and back again. “They are preparing to move the pulsar.”
Barron was stunned. He’d been worried that the enemy might do just that very thing at first, but then he’d considered the specifics. The pulsar was massive, and no doubt designed to be powered by antimatter. The Union had managed to develop an alternative, but the power generation system was utterly massive, a series of several dozen large fusion reactors. Moving such a series of structures, and keeping the whole thing operational during transport, would be a monumental task.
Could they really manage it?
“They can move the pulsar?” Barron tried to disguise the horror in his voice, but he suspected he’d failed utterly.
“Not yet. At least we don’t think so. But they are clearly working on it, and from the scale of the operation, they seem to believe they can do it.”
“That’s even more reason we can’t move the fleet from Grimaldi, Admiral.”
“Grimaldi is useless as a defense against a Union fleet armed with the pulsar. If we mass the fleet and try to hold the line near the transit point, they will just go through a different system. And if we spread our ships out, cover every possible approach, they will mass their fleet and drive us deeper into the system. Then, they will bring the pulsar through and wipe out the rest of our forces.”
Barron wanted to argue, but Striker’s logic was flawless. The fleet could outmatch any task force the Union could mass, but it couldn’t do it in three or four spots at once. If the enemy was able to move the pulsar and bring it quickly into action after a transit, the Confederation was in big trouble.
“I have been meaning to bring you up to speed on all this, Ty.” Striker looked across the table. “I’m glad you’re here too, Captain Travis. You have served in the glare of Ty’s bright sun for many years, but do not think your own skills have escaped my notice. Your promotion to flag rank is certain after you complete a seemly period as Dauntless’s captain. For now, perhaps we can simply pretend you are already there. Your input would be greatly appreciated. W
e need all the help we can get. I’m afraid we have a significant problem, and I’ll be honest, I have no idea what to do. I’ve ordered another scouting mission to confirm the findings of the last one, but assuming that checks, we’re going to have to develop some kind of plan.”
The room was silent for a long time, the three of them sitting, deep in thought. Barron was about to say something when Travis beat him to it.
“We have to attack them in the Bottleneck, Admiral. We have to destroy that…thing…before they can advance with it. We can’t let that weapon get to Grimaldi, much less the Iron Belt or the Core. Whatever it takes…even if it costs us every ship in the fleet.”
Striker leaned back. It was clear he was far from comfortable in the power chair, mostly, Barron suspected, because he was still in considerable pain. Striker had come as close to death as any living person could, and Barron had only heard a partial list of the repairs his dedicated medical staff had been forced to make. He was grateful the admiral had survived, but now that Striker had come clean with the amount of work he’d gotten done, more or less in secret, Barron’s respect increased. It couldn’t be easy to manage all that when every movement was its own small agony.
“You are correct, Captain, of course. But your words are far too prophetic. We have analyzed the tactical situation from every imaginable angle. Based on the power and firing rate of the pulsar, and its range, not to mention the presence of the Union fleet, we have projected a ninety-six percent chance that none of our capital ships would make it into firing range of the weapon itself. An assault would throw away the fleet for no gain, and it would leave us even more open to an enemy invasion.”