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

by Doug Dandridge

  This star, she thought, zooming the holo in on one nondescript K class star. Not a major system, but still important enough, with a fleet base and system defenses. Two weeks travel time, long enough to gather some reserves and have them meet her force. Enough to win a battle against the Monsters? Maybe, or not. But enough to hurt their force badly enough to halt any offensive action against the Nation? Maybe.

  “Send a code transmission to all ships, to be repeated,” she ordered her Com Officer. “All ships are to head to this system at best speed, but they are cautioned to not break from the fleet. Any ships with instantaneous com are to report my intentions back to command, and to request that all reserve ships they can muster meet us there. Preferably well before the enemy gets within sensor range of the system.”

  The Com Officer nodded and went to work to send the long message out in the digital code that was the limit of grav pulse communication. It took a good couple of minutes to send out the code, which was followed by several minutes of every ship within range repeating the message. They moved out from there, until every ship in the fleet knew what they were to do.

  Now, all we have to do is stay ahead of the enemy force and lead them into the trap, she thought. Easy, if this commander could fall for the same ruse he had pulled on her.

  * * *

  “We have won the battle, Supreme Lord,” reported the Great Admiral, looking into the face of the Supreme Emperor of the Ca’cadasan Empire, Jresstratta IV. “The enemy is fleeing in disarray.”

  “And your estimates of their losses, Great Admiral?” asked the Emperor.

  The Great Admiral had ambivalent feelings about the wormhole technology. True, it gave him the ability to reinforce quickly, if the ships were available. It gave him access to the latest intelligence reports and analysis. It also allowed those in the capital to look over his shoulder, to scrutinize his every decision. He wondered how the humans dealt with that, or if it didn’t bother them to be micromanaged to such an extent. The way they show initiative in action, they must have found a way to deal with it.

  “I believe we have gutted their primary offensive arm, Supreme Lord. We have destroyed at least three quarters of that fleet. Maybe more. And are in pursuit of the remainder.”

  “And who is leading this pursuit?”

  “I am, Supreme Lord.”

  “No, Great Admiral. You will not. You are one of my best tacticians, and I will not see you killed in a useless act of bravado. You will remain at the base and direct the entire front.”

  “But, Supreme Lord…”

  “You will do as I say, Great Admiral. Put one of your wormholes on the flagship of your largest force, and advise that commander from the base. But you will not put your life at risk by leading from the front. Understood?”

  “Yes, Supreme Lord.” The Great Admiral did not like the order, though he understood it. The Great Admiral was enough of a realist to know that he was more intelligent than most of his species. He was an asset to his species, and their military. He recognized that the Emperor knew that as well, and Jresstratta IV was also one of the rare intellectuals in the Empire, who would not sacrifice a rare commander just so that male could prove his courage.

  “And thank you for your good news,” continued the Emperor. “We need such as this time.”

  “The other attacks didn’t go so well?”

  “We have no idea how the attack on their wormhole generating station went. All communication was lost about the time the bomb ship detonated. Which could mean anything. What didn’t happen, Great Admiral, was the sudden cessation of their wormhole weapons in the battle at their front, as we thought would happen. Make of that what you will.”

  The Great Admiral felt a feeling of dread in his chest. We didn’t take it out. Somehow, they foiled that attack. That had been a major hope in the planning of the attack, and the timing of it. Prisoners had revealed that most of the wormholes, including their miraculous weapons, led back to the station. If the station was destroyed, so would be their wormhole missile launching systems and particle beams.

  “They have already destroyed sixty percent of our fleet, though we believe they also suffered heavy losses. But the point of decision is still in doubt.”

  The Great Admiral gave a head motion of acknowledgement. If they could take the main system of that human kingdom they could still call that battle a victory. And even if they didn’t, if they could still get most of that forty percent out, it would be of great benefit to the Empire. Ships that had faced the humans, their battle experience passed on to those who hadn’t faced the maddeningly innovative creatures. In the past they might have stood and fought, and lost every last ship, as Ca’cadasan commanders tried to prove their courage. Now, at least, the commanders of ships and squadrons were at times making the smart decision.

  “Will we try another strike at their station, Supreme Lord?”

  “That may be in the works, Great Admiral. That may be in the works, though I doubt we will be able to sneak an attack in on them another time.”

  No, thought the Great Admiral. The next time it will have to be overwhelming force. A battle fleet. It would be worth the sacrifice, even if not a ship made it back. The problem was getting a battle fleet that deep into their space. If they had fought their way that deep into the human Empire, the war was all but won.

  “Keep the pressure on them, Great Admiral,” said the Emperor. “We have new weapons coming down the pipeline. Weapons such as the humans use against us. We will meet them at their own game, and then our more massive industrial base will begin to tell.”

  The holo died, the Emperor cutting him off without another word, as was his right. The Great Admiral thought for a moment of disobeying the ruler’s order. He could lead his fleet better than any of his subordinates. Since he considered himself a loyal servant of the Empire, he decided he would follow the order.

  “Get me High Admiral Changanostra,” he said into the air, knowing that the com would pick it up and he would soon be in touch with his most talented subordinate. Still, it might take some moments, since the Admiral’s ship was nearing the hyper barrier, and the nearest ship to his with a wormhole com was light minutes away. It was really the only ship that would have such a com in the pursuit force, and the Admiral in charge of that vessel might see it as a slight that he was not picked to lead the force. Let him see it as a slight, thought the Great Admiral as he waited. Changanostra was the best male for the job, so he would get the overall command, and the Great Admiral would order his officers to switch ships.

  New weapons, was the thought his mind sought while he waited. Actually it had been weapons such as the humans use against us. So again we copy, he thought. Copy the people who innovate such as we can’t. And what else will they bring out in the meantime?

  * * *

  “We have tested the impossible fighter prototype, Supreme Lord,” said the male in charge of the project over the com holo. “They work, Supreme Lord. They work, and we should be able to produce them in quantity within the next couple of months.”

  “We need to stop calling them impossible fighters,” said the Emperor. “Such a silly name, since we now know that they are perfectly possible.”

  “Yes, Supreme Lord,” croaked the male, a confused expression on his face. He had called the Emperor to report a triumph, only to have his speech corrected.

  “Do we have the negative matter for mass production?” he asked the male. Negative matter was not something that the Empire had much need for, only using it for esoteric experiments and such. The Emperor knew the answer to the question before he asked it, but wanted to see what the Director of Project had to say about it.

  “No, Supreme Lord. As it stands, we might be able to produce enough to manufacture twenty fighters a month. We need more production if we are going to mass produce them.”

  “Then we will have more production,” said the Emperor. “I will immediately order the allocation of resources to build production facilities. I want th
ose fighters as soon as possible. I am tired of us being on the receiving end of their technologies.”

  “Yes, Supreme Lord,” said the male. What else could he say? He was not in charge of anything outside of his project.

  “Good work,” said the Emperor, smiling. “Now give me a working fighter and you can ask what you want of me.”

  The Emperor cut the com feed, turning to look at the tactical plot of the battle his forces were retreating from, wondering what they might have done if they had the same attack fighters as the enemy. Something capable of exceeding the speed of light in normal space, though it had been explained to him that they were not really in normal space. Whatever the case, they had been a devastating weapon that had hurt his forces badly. True, some of his ships could pick them up, at least at close range. From reports he had seen some of his ships had devastated attack wings that had swept in, obviously depending on their ability to disappear from enemy sensors while they were in their inertialess bubbles.

  And even though we destroyed over half their deployed fighters, they still ended up on the positive end of the exchange. It is an exchange I would take at any time.

  With that thought the Emperor went back to work, going through all the decisions major and minor that were his to make in war or peace.

  * * *

  “I can’t wait to hear what his Majesty has to say when he sees this,” said Dr. Abel Schneider, looking over the holo of the prototype floating in the air before him.

  And I think his Majesty has too much on his mind at the moment to be bothered, thought Admiral Chuntao Chan. The poor man. But this is really something he should see and celebrate.

  The ship on the holo was like nothing anyone in the Empire had ever seen. Short and squat, the most noticeable feature was the perfectly circular ring around the center, held out by a quartet of pylons attaching it to the body of the ship. A true Alcubierre drive, she thought. Something that had been theorized for over two thousand years, but never built. First subspace, then hyperspace had come along and obviated the need for the drive.

  Alcubierre drive also used negative matter, but used a much more efficient warp field to propel itself through space. Or it might be more accurate to say that it didn’t propel itself at all, while the space around it moved. Theoretically, it was possible for the drive to move the ship at a pseudo-speed of thousands of times the speed of light. Still far short of the maximum travel speed of hyperspace. Ships in hyper VII moved at a pseudo-speed of more than thirty thousand times the speed of light.

  It was also much easier to track compared to the inertialess fighters they were already using. The graviton emissions from the warp was in the same range as a destroyer, and they could be tracked easily all the way across a system. They were not stealthy, and when they lit up the drive everyone for light hours in any direction would know that they were there. Moments later the variations in the graviton signal strength would give one the vector of the ships.

  It had one advantage that no other ship had. It could go from a standing stop to ten times light speed in less than twenty seconds. It could go from that speed to a stop in the same time. Even faster if it just dropped the warp field, which would cause it to come to a complete but gentle stop in space. The prototype was able to hit ten point three light. Future versions would probably go much faster, but what they had at the moment was good enough.

  The prototype massed five thousand tons. It used too much negative matter, enough to equip a squadron of inertialess fighters. The production fighter they envisioned would mass a mere three thousand tons, about twice that of the inertialess attack fighters, and use four and a half times the negative matter. And they were developing an entire line of missile weapons to go with it. Beam weapons were more of a problem, since they could only be used once the craft was out of warp, which meant standing still, a state in which they were easy targets.

  Still blind as a mole, thought the Research and Development Admiral, considered to be one of the most brilliant minds in the Empire. But we can work that out in the same way as we did the inertialess fighters. It would take several months to actually have a deployable fighter, several months after that before the first squadrons were formed. But when they were, the Cacas would be in for another shock. Maybe one they couldn’t recover from.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  The time to take counsel of your fears is before you make an important battle decision. That's the time to listen to every fear you can imagine! When you have collected all the facts and fears and made your decision, turn off all your fears and go ahead! George S. Patton

  “The Cacas are starting their deceleration toward the hyper barrier, Ma’am,” said the Analyst, standing to the side of the CNOs station.

  Sondra McCullom looked up from the plot she was studying. The battle of New Moscow (the Second? Third?), or was it the battle of the frontier, was just about to begin. They had beaten the Cacas, again, in every place but that system. And they had sustained heavy losses themselves, which made the words of King Pyrrhus come to mind. Too many more victories like this and they wouldn’t have a fleet. By all estimates the Cacas still had a massive fleet, with more ships on the way. Now it was up to her and the planning staff to figure out how to beat the next force, and the one after that, until there were no more enemy fleets to beat. Only if we can still defeat them in the New Moscow system, she thought. If they lost that system, and the two gates leading into it, while the enemy had one of their own, that would become what could only be called a new enemy home system, able to bring in reinforcements at will.

  The Grand High Admiral didn’t have to ask which Caca force was decelerating toward which hyper barrier. The one moving toward New Moscow had been decelerating for some time, and she knew to the minute when it would be entering that system.

  “And what are our forces doing?”

  “The pursuit force is still on their tail. Half is decelerating so they can follow the Cacas into hyper. The other half is continuing to move at their maximum speed, hoping to catch them before they reach the barrier.”

  Sondra nodded as she called up the information on her station. There were seven Caca superbattleships driving toward the barrier. There were still about fifty of the inertialess strike fighters shadowing them, making attacks of opportunity that really amounted to nothing. If one hit a Caca ship and came out of its warp at the same time it might kill one. It wasn’t something she could order, compelling a crew to go to its death to take out an enemy. And it wasn’t something most ship commanders would contemplate. If the station was still in danger she might have considered it. Since it was not, she wouldn’t.

  The following force was made up of six battleships, four battlecruisers and fourteen escorts. It was a force that might be able to take the Cacas. Probably not, but it was a possibility. Splitting the force would leave them with one truncated squadron that might damage some of the enemy ships, maybe even kill one or two, but would not stop them. The other truncated squadron would chase them through hyper, unable to catch them, but able to keep tabs on them. It was a hard decision, and maybe not the one she would have made, but it was the one made by the commander on the spot.

  “What about the special missiles?”

  “Two of the inertialess fighters are on the way, each carrying two of the special missiles. They should strike within the next fifteen minutes.”

  And the chances that they will hit anything with those weapons is just a little better than the chances of winning the Imperial Sweepstakes, thought the Admiral with a snort. The weapons had been developed to hit large structures in predictable paths, like orbiting fortresses, shipyards or possibly groups of ships. Hitting dispersed warships, especially those moving at a high rate of speed, was the next best thing to impossible. But there was always the chance, no matter how slight.

  “And Duchess Lei’s group?”

  “They are on course to make an intercept, ma’am. We have contact with them through their Klassekian Com Tech. We have not been
able to track them since they went cold, and we’re hoping the same is true for the Cacas.”

  The Duchess was trying to strike out of the shadows, taking the enemy by surprise, and her ships had stopped boosting over twenty hours before. They were still generating a bit of heat, but not gravitons, and hopefully the Cacas had not noticed them. At least the huge aliens had not altered their course in a manner that suggested they had seen her force and were now trying to avoid her.

  “Keep me informed,” she told the Analyst, turning back to her station. She had work to do, and at the moment the Battle of the Donut was a sideshow. She really wanted to kill those Caca ships, but they were not as important as what was going on elsewhere.

  Now, what can we do to stabilize the Second Front? And take back New Moscow if we have to?

  * * *

  “Disposition of the enemy?” asked the High Admiral, staring at the system plot.

  “No change, my Lord,” replied the Tactical Officer. “The two groups are still diverging. The first will hit us in two hours. The second looks like it will translate into hyper on a following course two hours and fifty-three minutes after our jump.”

  “Foolish of them to split their forces like that,” said the Chief of Staff. “We will defeat the first force, then lead the second on a chase they cannot win. They should have just sent all the ships after us on maximum acceleration.”

  Foolish? thought the High Admiral. Unless they know something we don’t.

  “How many missiles do we have left?” he asked his Tactical Officer.

  “This ship, my Lord? Sixty-one. I believe the entire force has just under two hundred.”

  That was a good sized wave against a force the size of the one coming up on their stern. When they fired them they would have to decelerate to overcome the momentum they were carrying from their launching ship. It would take them over an hour to get down to what was basically resting speed before they started their actual acceleration toward the target. They would actually be using the forward velocity of the chasing force more than anything they generated. The High Admiral checked the figures in the computer. Closing speed would be above point nine light, within the optimum velocity, if just a little under. Waiting any longer would mean less distance of transit, and a lower closing speed.