Exodus: Empires at War: Book 11: Day of Infamy (Exodus: Empires at War.)

by Doug Dandridge

  H +1.

  “We’re sending the final targeting data across, now,” said the Com Tech, looking back at her Captain, then to the Ca’cadasan Overlord who was actually running the operation.

  “To the glory of the Emperor,” stated that being in the harsh guttural language of his species.

  Fools Bane sat in curving path that would eventually take her into a close orbit of the black hole, within three light minutes of the event horizon, about fifty-four million kilometers out. They were already receiving queries about their intended course, much too close for comfort according to those in charge of security, especially for a tramp that didn’t carry the certification of safety such as an Imperial warship or a major carrier would have.

  We should have brought more ships, thought the human Captain, looking at the selection of targets in the system. The station itself was the priority, and the original plan had called for them to get within close proximity of that target before launching. That wasn’t going to happen. Too many suspicions had been raised, and they would be intercepted well before they got within any kind of range where they could put a quarkium warhead into the structure. Anything they launched from out here, almost a light hour from the target, would take over two hours to get to the station, and would be intercepted by an overwhelming defensive fire from the Donut. And they would also have to penetrate the naval forces, what there were of them, that would position themselves between the tramp and the target.

  And then there were the four rings of gates, three complete with thirty-two of the structures, one with only seventeen, but sure to be completed in the near future. Not as important as the station that made them, but targets whose destruction would cause great harm to the war effort of the New Terran Empire. Those gates were over a light hour out from the station, and set in rings spaced fifteen light minutes along from their nearest neighbor. They were twenty-one light minutes from the nearest of those rings, the partially completed one.

  If only they would have allowed us into close proximity of the station, we wouldn’t have had this problem. But the fact was that they did have the problem, and it wasn’t going away, so they would just have to make do.

  “Final dispositions of attack groups coming through, my Lord,” said the Com Tech, looking at the Ca’cadasan who actually ran the mission, before turning his attention to the titular human captain.

  The Captain looked over the information scrolling across the holo screen hanging in the air to his front. Over forty-three thousand ship attack and fighters would be coming through the wormhole they were going to open. That hole was going to be eight hundred meters in diameter, large enough to deploy a complete space attack or fighter group, fifty-six craft, through in a ten second window. With seven hundred and sixty-eight groups, it would take a little over two hours to deploy the entire attack force. He wondered if they would have that time, since the closest Imperial ships could hit them with missiles in slightly less than two hours.

  No one said we were coming back, thought the Captain. That went for him and his crew. That went for the tens of thousands of pilots and gunners that would come through with the attack waves. If they could take out the wormhole generating station it would be worth more than the less than a hundred thousand lives they would give. It would win the war. Of that the Captain had no doubt. And it would prove once and for all to the Masters how valuable he and his people were to their Empire.

  He looked back at the Ca’cadasan Overlord, noting the sly expression on the beings face, as if he knew something that the human crew didn’t. And that worried the Captain even more.

  * * *

  The Commander of Laughing Troll looked over his tactical plot with a different perspective from that of Fools Bane’s commander. The Jewel/New Terra System was only one hundred and five thousand kilometers in diameter, about a third of a light second. Even adding in the moon Ariel and it was still less than a light second in radius. Everything was within range, though it was more important to take out some targets earlier in the queue than others.

  “Final targeting information has been sent through to the strike groups,” sent the Com Tech. “Acknowledgement of receipt coming through. Estimated time to first deployment, forty-nine minutes.”

  Jasper looked at the information coming through on the holo screen. His attack would be much smaller than the one launched on the black hole station, a mere five thousand, six hundred odd attack ships and fighters, one hundred groups. It would take them seventeen minutes to complete their transit through the hole, and they would head for their targets in the order of priority. The docks first, then the capital planet, and after that the two other inhabited worlds. If they could smash the docks and take out the government, they would have accomplished their part of the task. Maybe not as important as taking out the wormhole generating station, but still, cutting the head off the snake was always useful.

  * * *

  “Admiral on the bridge,” shouted the first crewperson to see her.

  “At ease,” replied Mei Lei, walking onto the command and control bridge. It seemed strange to be on this control room of the battle cruiser. She was used to the even larger flag bridge, from which she exerted command and control of the entire task group, and not just one ship. But she had allowed the Captain and his staff to have leave, something they didn’t get often.

  “Anything to report?” asked the Admiral, feeling foolish as she did so. They were hanging in space about five thousand kilometers from the Central Dock main station. This was one of the safest places in the entire Empire, and she would have been shocked if something were going on.

  “No, ma’am,” said the acting Tactical Officer, a grin on his face as if he also recognized the silliness of the question. “Just normal traffic. Preparing to launch another shuttle in five minutes with a full liberty party aboard.”

  Mei smiled at the thought of more of the ship’s crew getting out and onto a real planet’s surface for a change. This shuttle was scheduled to go to Jewel, where the majority of her people had gone. “Let me know the moment anything of an import happens,” she told the Tactical Officer, who had bridge duty this watch. “I’ll be in my cabin, making sure the logs are up to date.”

  The ship seemed emptier that it actually was, the corridors empty of life. There were still eight hundred and fifty people aboard, over a quarter of the crew, the number mandated for minimal security even while in a friendly port. A third of those people had the duty watch, while the rest were either asleep or at some form of recreation. She returned the salute of a rating who was on the way somewhere in a hurry.

  And tomorrow we go into dock to get a new nanoskin installed, she thought as she approached the door to her quarters. That skin would make the ship much more stealthy, especially when paired with the wormhole she would carry back at the front. Some other structural modifications would be made, but there would be no need to have any crew aboard for the two weeks it would take. She could actually get some shore leave herself, between the meetings she would be expected to attend at the Hexagon.

  And things seem to be heating up at the front, she thought with a frown, wishing she were there. But the orders that had just come down had been clear. Her ships were to go through refit. There was very little one scout group could do in a battle than would involve over thirty thousand ships.

  Satin awaited her as she entered the sitting room of her quarters, jumping down from the couch and running up to his mistress. The cream colored cat sat at her feet and looked up with a soft meow.

  Mei picked up the cat with a laugh, stroking his soft fur. She carried the cat to the couch and sat down, laying the feline in her lap and lying back.

  I love you, kitty cat, she thought as she closed her eyes and felt the deep purr of the little beast. But perhaps it’s time to seek some human companionship. It had been ages since she had a lover, male or female. She really wasn’t sure what she would prefer at this time. Just someone warm and loving and passionate. And compassionate. Now tha
t she was a duchess she also had to have some consideration for an heir, which meant a father, though that would have to wait until she had a year of time to devote to being a mother. It would not be wise to be aboard a warship while carrying a child.

  The thought of a child brought another smile to her face, and she lay back on the comfortable couch, her cat in her lap. Soon she was sound asleep, dreams of the duchy she had never actually visited, but was planning to while her ships were in dock, soon on her mind.

  * * *

  Tomas Gijardo looked over the sidewalk from his table at the café, sipping a fine coffee as he thought about his plans for the day. Imperial day weekend, he thought, watching the crowds moving through the streets. Major businesses and offices were closed this three-day weekend. Schools, colleges, even the Fleet Academy at Peal Island. Even the great majority of stores were closed, with the exception of restaurants, bars and entertainment establishments. The Imperial Zoo and Botanical Gardens would have record crowds this day, and transportation services would be packed. An hour from now the titular Main Street, running past Parliament and the Reformed Catholic Cathedral, would start, running for thirty kilometers toward the Constance the Great spaceport. All the high and mighty of the city would be there to watch the endless display of bands, floats and military units that would move by.

  “Hi, handsome,” said a soft voice, just before the lovely blond woman slid into the seat across the table from the office manager.

  “Hello, beautiful,” answered Tomas, looking into the blue eyes of the love of his life. “Beautiful day for it. And what would you like to do this day? Parade?”

  “Ugh,” said Margo, making a face. “And have to fight through those crowds. How about we go visit the Imperial Museum for a bit, then a nice lunch.”

  “And after that?”

  “After that,” she said with a smile. “I think we should spend some time together, alone. Your place or mine?”

  * * *

  Rebecca looked into the ashes of the fire as she whittled away the piece of wood. She didn’t know what she was making, if anything. Her mind was only half on the pastime, the rest of it was where she wanted to be, in the city, waiting for the parade to start.

  Leave it to Cornelius to want to take us on a camping trip on the biggest holiday of the year, she thought, the frown on her face deepening. She loved her adoptive father. How could she not, when he had saved her life, then saved her from being just another orphan given into the hands of the system. But his idea of fun, to go out into the wilderness and away from the comforts of civilization? That left her scratching her head. Didn’t he get enough of that on deployment, she thought, slicing another sliver of wood, this time pushing a little too hard.

  The knife sliced through the wood and into her thumb, cutting deep. She hissed in surprise, not really feeling the pain as the ultra-sharp blade entered her flesh.

  “Careful,” said Cornelius, suddenly there and kneeling at her side. He pulled out a cloth and wrapped it around her thumb, stopping the bleeding. “You have to pay attention to what you’re doing when you’re handling a blade like this.”

  “I know,” she said with a grimace as he pulled the cloth away for a moment to check out her injury.

  “Not too bad. Your nanites should have it closed up in no time. You’re lucky you didn’t cut the damned thing off.”

  “I told you she was too young for a knife like that,” said Devera, looking over from the camp chair she was sitting in as she watched Junior hitting the ground with a stick.

  “I had a knife like that when I was her age,” said Cornelius, giving his wife an angry look.

  “And you had been raised by your father, the hunt master, to be a little Tarzan. She hasn’t had that training.”

  “She did well enough on Azure, on her own,” said Cornelius, gritting his teeth.

  Rebecca was beginning to feel very uncomfortable at the adult argument going on because of her. She knew it wouldn’t lead to anything, married couples had arguments all the time. Still, she didn’t like the idea that she might have done something that drove a wedge, no matter how temporary, between her adoptive parents.

  “I’m going for a walk,” she said, throwing the piece of wood into the remains of last night’s fire and standing up. She sheathed the monomolecular hunting knife, one that Cornelius had called a Bowie, into its special case.

  “Don’t go far,” said Cornelius, looking at her as he pointed a finger in her direction. “I know this isn’t Azure, and there are a lot of safeguards built into this recreation area, but it still wouldn’t do to not be aware of your surroundings.”

  Rebecca nodded, then turned away and walked quickly down the path that had taken them from the car park into the so called wilderness. The arguing died behind her, and she was happy that it hadn’t grown in volume. They would hash things out, and then they would be back to normal, and she didn’t have to go through the uncomfortable feelings of listening to the two most important people in her life arguing about her.

  The path was peaceful in many ways, winding through a forest so unlike any wilderness area on her homeworld. Here there were no plants, or even worse, the hybrid plantimals, that would kill any animal life that got within reach. There were some poisonous plants, and Cornelius had made her well aware of them, but you actually had to do something stupid to be harmed by them. Dangerous animals roamed the true wilderness areas, some as deadly as anything Azure had. But the repulsion systems placed throughout the recreation area kept them confined to the true wilderness, and away from people.

  And within the hour the celebration would kick off in the Capital city, the largest in the Empire. And here she would be, stuck out here in these woods, away from all the excitement, on the other side of the mountain range from civilization. She might be able to see the fireworks when night came, and she was sure she would see the suborbital light show from here, if she stayed in a clearing. But she would still miss all the excitement of the people, the parades, the thousands of open air concerts. The pageantry. Most of all she would miss seeing the Empress and the twins on the reviewing stand as the largest of the parades passed by.

  Why in the hell did I have to end up with such a farm boy of a father, she thought with a slight smile. There was a little bit of anger in that thought, but not much when she thought about it. If he hadn’t been such a farm boy, and a hunter, she would not be here this day. And neither would Junior.

  * * *

  “Everything is ready, your Majesty,” said the Chief of Detail for the Empress’ protection staff.

  Jennifer looked up from where she had been looking down on one of the twins. Augustine was being his usual surly self this morning, crying and complaining at every turn. Glen lay peacefully in his crib, cooing and smiling at the world. Both babies had been fed, both had been bathed and changed. Both had gotten all the attention that any infant could want. And both were acting as polar opposites.

  I wonder if the Empire will wish that Glen had been the first one into the world, thought the Empress, smiling down on her complaining son. By precedent the first born child was the heir, the next in order the spare. There had been exceptions, such as when an heir and turned out to be unfit for the role of Emperor. But being a difficult baby was not grounds for dismissal from the inheritance that birth had bestowed.

  “I guess the little terrors are ready as well,” said Jennifer, almost laughing at the expressions on the faces of the people that were helping to raise and protect her children. They may be the objects of adoration to you, she thought, looking at the faces. But to me they’re my children, nothing more, nothing less.

  The chosen nurses took hold of their charges, lifting them from their cribs and placing them in the carryalls that had been designed for them. They were larger than those used by most mothers in the Empire, and that size was not because of any extra luxury built into the baskets. No, they were the most protective carryalls that the science of the Empire could devise. And the detail carried a
ttachments that would make them even more protective. Glen and Augustine might only be her children to her, and a big only. But they were the most precious of gems to the people of the Empire, symbols of the heritage that was humankind’s in this space.

  An elevator took them up to the rooftop landing pad, where a half dozen heavily armored aircars waited. One was the luxury conveyance that would carry the Empress and Glen to the reviewing stand, along with agents of both of their protective details. Augustine would fly in another of the cars, just as luxurious, with his own protective detail aboard. At first Jennifer had balked at being separated from one of her sons, but on this both Sean and the Secret Service had been unbending. With two children, they were not about to carry both eggs in one basket, especially in something as inherently vulnerable as an aircar.

  The cars left the rooftop, along with four other identical appearing cars that carried more of the security detail. All appeared identical on the outside, but their interiors were very different. Three were quick response vehicles with armored security agents ready to act as a reaction force. One was a command and control vehicle. And all were targets that would hopefully absorb any attack directed against the Imperial Family.

  As soon as they were in the air the twenty Marine assault carriers formed up around them, each carrying a reinforced squad of Marines in heavy battle armor. Overhead flew a squadron of atmospheric fighter craft. Enough firepower to fight off any conceivable assassination attempt, and there was really no danger of anything larger this deep into the Empire.

  Jennifer looked with approval on all of the precautions. She wished that it wasn’t necessary, but since it was, she was glad that it was the best possible. In fact, her children were in many ways the most protected in the history of the human species. They were constantly monitored for any kind of medical emergency, they had the best nanosystems in the Empire injected into their bodies, making them essentially disease and all but poison proof.

  Glen cooed, a behavior slightly ahead of the developmental norms of his age. Both of her children were advancing faster than normal, part of their genetic heritage. Jennifer ran a finger along his face, stopping on his lips, as the baby kicked his legs and waved his arms in the uncoordinated manner of infants. The Empress felt her eyes begin to tear up as she thought of the life that was ahead of him, even if he didn’t become the Supreme Ruler. If both survived to the day that their father died, Augustine would become the Emperor, while Glen would become the heir to his older brother, unless that brother happened to have children of his own at that time. And when Augustine’s first child was born, Glen would move in order to become the spare once again, continually moving down the ranks as more children were born to his older brother. Still, Glen would be expected to hold a high position in the Imperial government. A High Ambassadorship, an Admiralty appointment, or the head of some government commission. His life would not be scrutinized to the point of his brother’s, but he would still remain in the public eye for as long as he lived.