A thought struck her and she smiled. What if there was no industrial base?
“That doesn't seem too likely,” Jamie objected, when she said it out loud. “They have to know that they won’t be getting supplies from the Empire.”
“I wouldn't trust their people to produce anything more complex than hand-powered tools, if that,” Patterson said. “It's possible that they built up a really immense store of weapons and spare parts – hell, they might have helped to drive the price up over the last ten years. Or maybe they intend to construct the production plant later, once they have more engineers trained up.”
“Assuming they can,” Captain Hamilton said doubtfully. “Engineers and religious fanatics really don’t mix.”
Sameena tapped the table. “We have to deal with this problem now,” she said, firmly. “Do we have enough firepower here to actually win?”
Jamie scowled. “It depends how many of those ships are actually functional,” he admitted. “If those ships were crewed by the dregs of the Imperial Navy, they’d still have a colossal firepower advantage. But if the crews are actually untrained idiots ... we might have a chance. But I’d hesitate to launch an attack unless there was no other choice.”
His scowl deepened. “We could try to lure them into a trap,” he said. “If we use our spare missiles as mines ... old tactic, but it does work.”
“Tricky,” Yew said. “A plan that depends on the enemy doing what you want is a very bad plan indeed.”
“True,” Jamie agreed. “We’d have to give them some reason to try and chase us down.”
Sameena smiled. “I can provide that,” she said, as an idea blossomed to life in her mind. “We will broadcast to the entire planet. Our captive” – she’d almost called him Uncle – “will record a message for us in Arabic, revealing precisely what the Guardians have been doing.”
“Sneaky,” Yew said. “But what happens if they jam it?”
“I bet they can't,” Foxglove said. “Jamming signals from Imperial Navy ships would require actual understanding of what they’re doing. It’s not meant to be easy.”
“And they’d take the bait,” Jamie said. “And we’d lure them right into a trap.”
Sameena nodded. “It will take us two weeks to get from here to Jannah, then we can lay our trap and advance into the system,” she said. “If we’re lucky, we can nip this in the bud.”
It was going to be difficult, she knew, as she studied the enemy starships hanging in orbit around her homeworld. Even if only half of them were fully-functional – or at least operational – they would have one hell of an advantage in firepower. And they probably wouldn't be fooled by the q-ships a third time. The ship that had fled Maxwell would have alerted them to the trick by now.
But how would they respond? It was almost impossible to predict how religious fanatics would respond to almost anything. They might send another fleet to Maxwell – or they might pull in their horns and try to discover just what happened to the first invasion force. There was no way to be sure. Her only hope was to come down on Jannah as hard as possible before its leaders reacted. If it wasn't already too late.
And if we’re not lucky, she added, in the privacy of her own mind, Steve is going to have to remain in hiding and build up his fleet to liberate the sector.
Chapter Forty-Two
...Leaving a power vacuum waiting to be filled. Some planets with long-buried dreams of independence sought to carve out their own empires, or secure territory for later expansion. Others were unable to survive without outside help; those unlucky enough to drop out of contact entirely died out. Newer political units expanded into the ruins of the Empire.
- Professor Leo Caesius. The Science That Isn’t: Economics and the Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire.
Sameena had been expecting to feel something when she returned to Jannah – or at least to the Jannah System – but there was nothing, apart from a grim sense that there was work to be done. The sun that had given Jannah light and heat was nothing more than a glowing spark of light in the distance, perhaps a little bigger and brighter than the rest. There was no trace of activity along the Phase Limit. If she hadn't known that the raiders were there, she would have doubted herself. The destroyer’s sensors were picking up almost nothing from the inner system.
“Put the freighters under cloak,” Jamie ordered. “And then monitor their positions. I want to be sure the cloaks are working.”
“Cloaks operational,” Foxglove reported. He’d transferred to Pinafore after Sneaky Bastard had been towed to the edge of the Maxwell System and decommissioned. “Only a very savvy sensor operator would be able to detect them.”
“Very good,” Jamie said. He gave Sameena a grin, then looked over at the helmsman. “Cloak us, then take us into the system. I want to be at the first waypoint within three hours.”
Sameena sat back in her chair and tried to concentrate. It felt odd to be on someone else’s bridge – and she couldn't bark orders to Jamie’s crew, something she had to force herself to remember. She’d been a Captain too long, she realised. She watched grimly as the sensor reports came in, noting the presence of a number of energy signatures near Jannah ... and very little else. Her thought that the Guardians might have been unable or unwilling to build up an industrial base might have been right after all. They weren’t even trying to mine the asteroids.
The bridge crews spoke in hushed voices as they drew closer to the first waypoint. Sameena had to smile; there was no way that the enemy could hear their words, yet they were quiet. The dim lighting that signified that the cloaking device was active seemed oppressive, almost spooky. It was a relief when they finally reached their destination without being detected.
“Start unloading the missiles,” Jamie ordered the freighter crews. “And then sneak back out of the system and wait for us just past the Phase Limit.”
The missiles were too small to carry cloaking devices, even if the designers had been inclined to waste money on such trivial considerations. But they were tiny on the standards of interstellar space and, as long as they were powered down, completely undetectable. Sameena watched as the missiles were unloaded – it had taken Steve two months to produce them – and placed in position, waiting for their time to shine.
And if this goes wrong, she thought, coldly, this entire plan will be worse than useless.
“All missiles deployed,” Foxglove reported. “Laser command-and-control is online; IFF signal trackers are online.”
“Let’s hope so,” Jamie muttered. He’d told her that IFF mishaps resulted in friendly fire incidents. Paddy had chimed in with a droll observation about friendly fire being nothing of the sort. “If this goes wrong, we are all in deep shit.”
Sameena couldn't disagree.
“Launch probes,” Jamie ordered. “I want a clear view of the planet before we advance.”
Pinafore shuddered slightly as she launched a set of recon probes, hurling them down towards Jannah. Sameena watched as her homeworld appeared in the display, glowing blue-green against the inky darkness of space. It didn't feel any different to Rosa or Maxwell or any of the other worlds she’d visited, she realised. Living in space was her life now.
“Four orbital stations, one of which is definitely still under construction,” Foxglove reported. “Seventeen warships in planetary orbit, seven of them heavy cruisers.” He sucked in a breath. “One of the others is an Imperial Navy battlecruiser!”
Jamie leaned forward. “Where the hell did that come from?”
“The breakers, judging by its power curves,” Foxglove said. “I think they’re trying to refit it and not having much luck.”
Sameena smiled, even though the presence of the battlecruiser was a nasty shock. Jamie had told her that many system-defence forces tended to go for larger ships, even though they didn't have the trained manpower base to operate them. They would be better off, he’d explained, going for destroyers and light cruisers, then slowly working their way up to battl
ecruisers and battleships. By the time they obtained them, they should have crews capable of operating them. But Jannah’s reserves of trained manpower were almost non-existent.
Jamie gave her a sharp look, then looked back at Foxglove. “Is she armed?”
“Unknown,” Foxglove said. “But I am picking up no targeting sensors, not even standby signals. I suspect that she isn't capable of military operations.”
“Show us the remaining ships,” Jamie ordered. “What are we looking at?”
“Six destroyers and two light cruisers,” Foxglove said. “Plus one ship of indeterminate design. It looks like a heavily-modified medium cruiser, but there’s no record of anything comparable in the datafiles.”
“Probably a custom design,” Jamie said. “How many of those ships are operational?”
“Uncertain,” Foxglove admitted. “I think about half of them are operational, but it’s hard to be sure at this range.”
Downright impossible, Sameena thought grimly.
It took another hour before Jamie was sure that they had surveyed the system thoroughly, although they both knew how easy it was to hide something as tiny as a starship in outer space. Sameena watched the endless stream of data flowing into the display, realising – not for the first time – just how strange the whole set-up was. Jannah had nothing in the outer system, not even a handful of observation posts ... and yet there were starships in orbit around the planet and four orbital stations.
They must be planning on capturing my industrial nodes, she thought, coldly. Nothing else makes sense, unless they plan to embrace the destruction of technology.
“The freighters are clear,” Jamie said, finally. He keyed his console. “All ships, prepare to execute Plan Alpha on my mark.”
Sameena settled back into her chair and braced herself. This could go horrendously wrong.
“Mark,” Jamie ordered.
As one, the squadron decloaked and accelerated towards the planet. They would have been picked up instantly by any competent sensor crew, but no one was entirely sure just what – if anything – was guarding Jannah. There had certainly been no trace of a sensor network watching orbital space when Captain Hamilton had visited the system – and picked up an unexpected stowaway. But the ships in orbit should have been able to detect their presence ...
“They’ve seen us,” Foxglove said. “But they haven't focused their sensors on us. I think they’re having trouble locking on.”
He scowled down at his console. “I’m picking up increased drive emissions from a dozen ships, not including the battlecruiser,” he added. “They’re coming to battlestations.”
“Oh, for a battleship or two,” Jamie muttered in her ear.
Sameena nodded. A squadron of battleships could simply have sneaked up on the planet, then blown most of the enemy force out of space with the opening salvo. Instead, her little squadron might have inflicted damage with a surprise attack, but not enough to utterly destroy the enemy. It was easy to see how quickly they would have been destroyed once the enemy recovered from their shock.
“Taking their sweet time about it,” the helmsman muttered. “I would have been booted out an airlock if it took me that long to get underway.”
“Be grateful for small mercies,” Sameena advised.
Jamie snorted, then keyed his console. “Begin transmission,” he ordered. “Make sure the entire planet hears it.”
“Message transmitting,” the communications officer said. “They’ll hear it, sir.”
Sameena smiled, very coldly. It had taken some ... persuasion to convince Uncle Muhammad to read the script she’d prepared, but he’d eventually surrendered to the inevitable. She'd considered reading it herself, as Jamie had suggested, yet she’d known that much of the planet’s male population would simply have ignored a feminine voice. They’d be more likely to believe a man.
That will change, she promised her mother’s shade. The entire planet will be reformed.
The speech had been carefully written to be absolutely truthful – and drive the Guardians insane with rage. And, as it was broadcast on the channels their religious programs used, they had no way to prevent the entire planet from listening to them. Even a complete blackout would not stop battery-operated radios from picking up the speech. Their only hope was to come after her squadron with everything they had.
“They’re getting underway,” Foxglove reported. “Recalculating engagement range now; seven minutes to outer edge of our missile envelope.”
“Open fire as soon as we enter missile range,” Jamie ordered. “And prepare to deploy drones the moment they return fire.”
We should have the advantage in a long-range missile duel, Sameena told herself, as the enemy starships slowly started to inch out of orbit. Was it her imagination – or did they look like they were nervous at the prospect of leaving the comfort of planetary orbit? She’d had few problems coming to terms with the vastness of space, but she hadn't really had a choice – well, not unless she’d stayed on Madagascar or gone to a low-tech world. The crewmen on the enemy ships might have been offered a choice ...
“Entering missile range,” Foxglove reported.
“Opening fire,” the tactical officer added.
Pinafore shivered as she launched her first salvo of missiles, targeted directly on the enemy craft heading towards them. One of the ships was showing definite signs of drive problems, Sameena noted; the others seemed sturdy enough to keep going, no matter what else happened. Moments later, they belched a swarm of missiles back towards Jamie’s squadron, intent on destroying them.
“Hold the range open,” Jamie ordered. “Just keep tempting them to shoot their magazines dry.”
Pinafore twisted in space, reversing course ... and drawing the enemy craft after her. The rest of the squadron followed suit, belching out a second wave of missiles. Sameena couldn’t help shivering as she realised how puny their barrages were compared to what the enemy craft could pump out, even though their targeting and point defence was much better. The enemy might manage to swamp them by sheer weight of fire.
“The enemy doesn’t have a working point defence datanet,” Foxglove observed. “If they did, we wouldn't have scored a single hit.”
Sameena scowled. Even with each ship defending itself, rather than fighting as a team and combining their firepower, the enemy had clearly managed to improve their point defence. Only three missiles made it through to slam into enemy hulls, doing minimal damage.
“Their fire control isn't much better,” Jamie commented, quietly. “They should have been able to score at least one hit by now. Keeping the range open only goes so far.”
“Don’t give them any ideas,” Sameena muttered back. The enemy ships were firing again, trying to wear the defences down. So far, they hadn't scored a single hit ... but everyone knew that it was only a matter of time. “We want them angry, not murderous.”
It was a balancing act, she knew. Jamie’s squadron had to seem like a reasonable target to keep the enemy in pursuit, but they didn't dare let the range fall enough so that the enemy was assured of scoring hits. It would be easy to simply escape enemy missile range, yet if they did the enemy might simply give up pursuit, even if they were still pumping out the message towards Jannah.
“Sir Porter just took two direct hits,” Foxglove reported, suddenly. “She’s falling out of formation.”
Jamie cursed. “Order her commander to evade laterally and escape,” he snapped. “And to stop broadcasting the message ...”
It was too late. As if they sensed the ship’s weakness, enemy missiles homed in on Sir Porter and overwhelmed her, slamming into her hull until it disintegrated into a radioactive ball of plasma. Part of Sameena’s mind was horrified at watching a crew die so brutally, part of her was disgusted at the waste. There had been no need to expend so many missiles on killing such a small destroyer.
“Sir Porter has been destroyed,” Foxglove said. “There are no signs of any lifepods.”
&nb
sp; Sameena forced herself to sit still, even though her instincts called for pouring on the speed and escaping the enemy ships. The cold equations that governed spaceflight ensured that failure – the loss of even a single drive section – would mean certain destruction. She doubted her crews would surrender, even if the enemy was in the mood to accept them. They all knew what had happened to prisoners on Maxwell.
The damage kept mounting up as the enemy force chased them, never showing a hint of giving up. Pinafore took a nasty blow that destroyed two of her missile launchers and came alarmingly close to crippling the ship; two other starships fell out of formation and were rapidly targeted by the enemy, one of them blown to rubble as quickly as the first. The second steered a direct course towards an enemy heavy cruiser and ploughed into her hull, destroying both ships in a single explosion. Sameena looked towards the system display, then back at the tactical display, wondering if they’d miscalculated. There might be nothing left of the squadron by the time they reached the emplaced missiles.
“Two direct hits,” Foxglove observed. On the display, an enemy destroyer fell out of formation, her drive field spluttering into non-existence. “But their point defence is getting better.”
Sameena wasn't too surprised. Experience was a great teacher. The enemy had a major weakness; the closing speed between her missiles and their ships was much faster than the closing speed between her ships and their missiles. Improving their point defence was the only logical solution, although they didn't seem to realise the potential of their own datanet.
Thank God for small mercies, she told herself. If they had, the battle would suddenly have become a great deal harder. They might well lose by the time they reached the missiles.
“Approaching outer edge of emplaced missile range,” the helmsman snapped, suddenly.
The Empire's Corps: Book 05 - The Outcast Page 41