It was all very understandable. It was drummed into line officers to watch fuel consumption. Burning propellant too extravagantly early in a campaign might leave a Depot Ship helpless later on, without the reaction mass to manoeuvre or retreat if a situation turned bad. And old Belofte’s legs were pretty short as it was.
There was also the greatly increased risk of mechanical failure to consider, particularly in a well-worn ship like Belofte. If the engines blew out in the middle of a battle the Depot Ship would be an easy target. If they were doing a full burn at the time the vessel might spiral off into deep space, unable to stop itself and maybe even impossible for other ships to reach. That would mean a slow and lingering death for the crew.
But the most significant objection, because it was the most likely and immediate, was tactical. Going to maximum acceleration would mean Belofte would almost certainly be detected. By extension that would give away the position of the rest of the fleet as well.
“I know,” said Courage before any of them could speak. “I know the drawbacks and the risks, but we don’t have a lot of good options here. We have to get Belofte and the tankers out of that area before the Trigs spot them.”
“The Trigs will almost certainly get an exact fix on them if they go to max acceleration,” observed Cromarty.
“True, but at least this way they will be further away when they do get spotted. Anyway we need them in a particular position.” Courage checked his perscomp. “Very well. Take a signal to Belofte. Tell Captain Hutton that in precisely fifteen minutes he is to go to full acceleration on this course,” he showed Cromarty his perscomp. “And I mean full acceleration Commander. I want him to pull out all the stops, short of burning the engines out, until I signal him to stop. Stress that. I want maximum effort. He is to ignore fuel considerations and override the stage one safety protocols.”
Cromarty tapped at her perscomp.
“Then make out a second signal to the rest of the fleet. I want them to close to one spatial of Belofte, match her acceleration and adopt courses that parallel hers. Then inform everyone to be ready for emergency course changes in the next half hour.”
“Very good sir,” said Cromarty. “Captain Raime? Would it be possible for you to kindly arrange for these instructions to be distributed to the fleet?”
“Of course Commander,” said Raime, rather stiffly. He raised his hand to his head, waited for her to return the salute, and then strode off.
What a strange interplay! Well it didn’t matter. The important point was that his orders were going out. He had no time to spend on considering whatever games his subordinates were playing out. He needed to check some of his other calculations. His mind was already buzzing as he bent to the task, and it was several minutes before he sensed Prince hovering at his side.
“Yes Commander?”
Prince looked uncomfortable. “Sir, may I make an observation? Well, ask a question really?”
Courage continued with his checking and answered without looking up. “Asking questions is rarely a bad idea Commander. Please go ahead.”
Prince squared his shoulders. “Well sir, I’m just wondering about ordering the fleet to max acceleration. That’s going to burn a lot of fuel very quickly. We will endanger our ability to carry out high acceleration manoeuvres in the future. More importantly, we will be venting an awful lot of reaction mass. League sensors will certainly pick up that level of emissions. We risk giving away our exact position, never mind an approximate one.”
Courage considered. All the points Prince had detailed were valid, if rather by the book. He chose his answer carefully. “They heavily outmatch us Commander Prince. It would be very difficult for us to win a fight against them head to head. The only choice we have is to manoeuvre.”
“I’m aware of the odds sir. And I understand that a withdrawal from the immediate area is necessary now, but we also know that they have better acceleration than we do – well certainly a better average acceleration anyway. We cannot outrun them directly without a good head start, not unless we plan to sacrifice the older Depot ships...”
“I have no intention of sacrificing anyone, Commander.”
“Yessir. I'm just concerned that manoeuvring will not work for us either. Even if we manage to get well away from them, we might not be able to build up sufficient velocity to stop them from overtaking us. Now, hard acceleration might mean we can get a head start on them, but it also means they’ll get a fix on us sooner, so they will be able to react quicker, and that will make it much more difficult to evade them later on.”
“This is all true, but it’s not always the best policy to hide everything from the enemy,” replied Courage shortly.
“Sir?”
Courage sighed and laid a pile of vidscrolls to one side. “The job of an admiral is to direct ships in battle. A battle is a series of moves and countermoves. The decision as to which move to make is based on a lot of factors, quite a lot of them imponderable. Now, one of those factors – a major one in fact – is what the enemy is doing, and more importantly what they are planning to do. We base our moves partly on their course and speed and intentions, or more specifically, on what we think their course, speed and intentions are going to be in the future. They do the same. Now, if they know where we are, then they will certainly make different moves than if they don’t know.”
Prince paused while he thought this through. “So you want them to follow us sir?”
“Well there are a lot of advantages for us by doing that, not the least of which fleet that if they are chasing us they won’t be in position to bombard Persephone. We don’t want a repeat of the Ganymede attack.” He held up a hand to forestall Prince. “We took an oath when we signed up for the navy Commander. ‘To protect the persons and the commerce of the Virtue Confederation, and all such others as do go about their lawful passage through space’. Yes? I know that the Trigs went to some trouble to try and avoid civilian areas when they hit Ganymede. That’s good, but we cannot rely on either their morals or their marksmanship in the future.”
Prince pursed his lips. “In other words, better we get it than the civilians?”
“Correct.” Prince said nothing. Courage leaned towards him “If that’s a problem Commander, you need to consider a career change.”
Prince drew himself up. “I’m not afraid sir. I’m just trying to be practical. This fleet is the major protection for Persephone, for the entire Jovian system. If they take us out, well it might cost them some time, but they could always make another pass and hit Persephone at their leisure afterwards. There's nothing else that can stop them.”
Courage smiled. “Physics might. Coming round for another pass would depend on their having the time and the reaction mass. And I am going to try as hard as I can to make sure they have neither.”
“They must have a good number of supply ships with them to operate this far from League bases, sir.”
Courage stretched, easing limbs suddenly aching from being in one position for too long. “You think they will regroup after destroying or driving us off, refuel and then strike Persephone? No Commander. We got caught at Ganymede. Badly. But there was at least the consolation that it showed me that this is just a raid, not an invasion.”
Prince’s eyebrows rose. “Is it, sir?"
“Oh, it’s being presented as an invasion - by people who have a vested interest in portraying it that way - like our friends the JIN. But if the Triangle League were really going to invade they wouldn’t have trashed Ganymede Ultima base as thoroughly as they did. They’d have wanted it for themselves. Of course they would know they had no chance of seizing the drone bays – we’d self-destruct them to prevent capture - but the docks, the warehouses, the fuel silos?” He shook his head. “No, they wouldn't deliberately target them. They'd need them if they were planning to occupy the colony. No, this is a raid, and that means they won’t want to stick around too long.”
Prince looked thoughtful. “As I recall from the officer’s
conference, you did outline another possible option sir.”
Courage shrugged. “Well, yes, I did. It is still perfectly possible that their intention is to split off and destroy an isolated detachment of the Virtue Confederation Navy. In practical terms the distinction between that and a raid is immaterial. The important point is that in both cases they won't be here for too long. All we have to do is hold them until their time is up or our reinforcements arrive.”
Prince digested this as well. There was an uncomfortable pause.
Courage ran through the conversation. Was there something he had missed? Suddenly he had a warm sick feeling. Maybe it was…he steeled himself. “I, uh, didn’t mean to disparage you earlier Commander,” he offered. “I mean about being in danger. Your valour and dedication have been quite exemplary.”
“I didn’t think for one moment you were sir.”
“Ah. Good. Good.”
Prince did not move. Courage wracked his brain. He couldn’t think of anything else. Fortunately, a deck officer saved him.
“Belofte is accelerating now sir.”
Thankfully Courage headed over to the holotank. The blue dot that represented the 1st generation Depot Ship was blurring. Flashing signals by the icon in the holotank told of a massive Doppler shift and a huge flurry of superheated ions. Courage motioned and the picture zoomed in, providing a more visual measure of Belofte’s movement to the Bridge crew. Several nearby dots, the rest of the fleet, began to pick up velocity as the rest of the fleet responded. Dimly, in the back of his conscious mind, the dull throb of Valiant’s engines rose by half an octave. The deck officer on the Countermeasures station spoke up.
“Massive spike of electromagnetic emissions, heat and reaction mass residue – all from our own fleet sir.” There was just a hint of a reproach in the man's voice, which was excusable. Good countermeasures people hated giving away information, so Courage tempered his response accordingly.
“I’m sure there is Countermeasures. I’m afraid this manoeuvre is necessary.”
The deck officer on Sensors called out. “Our sensor nets are degrading too sir. Interference from our own ships is causing link problems. We’re having trouble maintaining accurate locations of targets at longer ranges.”
And that was an understandable response from a good Sensors officer too, even if it was unnecessarily melodramatic. Courage wasn't too bothered about the Depot ship's sensors - if a Depot Ship had to resort to using its own sensors for anything other than manoeuvring or charting interesting astral fragments it was in a lot of trouble - but the degradation of link connections was more serious. That meant the picket drones might lose contact too. Still, it had to be done.
The deck officer was waiting for a reply.
“Understood,” he said. The fellow just stood there gawping. “Umm…do the best you can,” he continued.
“Aye, aye sir.”
So, he was committed. Now he had to wait to see what the Triangle force would do. Move and countermove. Action and reaction. He had made his move, now it was their turn.
Time passed. Eventually, the comms officer spoke up again.
“Signal from Persephone sir. A report from one of their reconnaissance drones. The Triangle League main strike force has altered course to spinwards and is accelerating.”
“Are they now?”
Prince checked information on his perscomp. “That course is confirmed, sir. No doubt about it, they are moving to intercept us.”
“Very well. Thank you Commander.”
So, there it was. They had been detected. Hardly a surprise - the Trigs would have scout drones out all over the place looking for them. It was always only going to be a matter of time before they were spotted. In fact, they had done well in keeping out of the search patterns for so long.
The big news was that the Trigs were moving to engage, just as he had hoped. He tapped at his perscomp, muttering under his breath, and then turned to the deck officer on communications. “Ask Persephone to instruct its scout drone to update the enemy course and acceleration rates continuously. Tell them to feed that information directly to us via the link drone.”
That was necessary. The longer you looked at targets the more information you got, but any change that came about virtually reset the knowledge clock back to zero. In this instance the fact that the Trigs were changing course and accelerating had been registered, but the precise direction and rate of acceleration were still estimates. Both would become clearer the longer and harder that they looked.
And the closer the enemy got to them.
“Aye, aye sir,” said the deck officer.
“Commander Prince? Can you work out a new search pattern for our own scout drones, assuming the enemy are now coming directly at us?”
“Already working on it sir.” He was tapping furiously at his perscomp. The man was efficient alright.
“Better bring all link warriors to readiness state one.”
“Aye, aye sir.”
Courage leaned in closer. “And I want you to pass a personal signal to Lieutenant-Commander Donal Courage on board Belofte. Make it a tight beam communication Commander. Maximum security.”
Prince’s face did not alter. The man was good. Of course he knew Donal Courage was part of the fleet and he must have known that Jack had been communicating with his relative. He probably didn’t approve, although nepotism was rife enough in the Confederation navy. Like a good staff officer, he didn’t venture suggestion or comment on such matters.
Courage activated the file transfer from his Perscomp. Prince checked his own perscomp, nodded once, said “Aye, aye sir ”, and was gone.
A very good officer alright - he knew when to ask questions, and when not to pry. He could be a man to watch. He reminded him a little of Donal. Or rather, of what Donal would have been like. A Donal that might have been. If things had turned out differently.
He hoped this was going to start to make it better.
He turned to look once more at the holotank. The die was cast. The fleets were closing for battle; or rather the Trigs were closing faster than he could run away from them. Time was running out. The next two or three days were going to determine this campaign, one way or the other. And determine his future.
Chapter 33.
The light Depot Ship Belofte.
The whole ship was throbbing.
It was an illusion, obviously. For the ship to throb it would mean it was undertaking some kind of oscillating movement, a mix of yaw, pitch and roll, and that could not possibly happen aboard a deep space vessel. There were inertial compensators and artificial gravity restraints. A throbbing ship was something that just couldn’t happen.
But no matter how much the mind reasoned and rationalised, the instincts deep in the Human subconscious still felt like the ship was moving, and whether that was just a product of the mind or actual reality didn’t matter too much. Untold years of instinct would not be denied.
Belofte’s corridors were not quite as crowded as when Admiral Courage’s “adjustments” had been turning the ship’s routine inside out, but the mass of Humanity that was now seething through the ship was moving more quickly and purposefully than before. They had the clipped precision of people running on nerves. This throng had a harder feel than their counterparts back in the days when the ship was being “rearranged”. The mood was tense and grim, not cynical and frazzled.
Josie stood in the middle of a corridor, the turmoil whirling around her. She felt curiously sedate, detached, almost as if she were a scientist observing the antics of a giant disturbed ant nest. It was all very odd, for she knew logically that the herd of primeval Humanity wasn’t stampeding without reason. Everyone present really was in actual danger. The threat might not be visible, immediate or even tangible, but it was genuine enough.
Perhaps her serenity was down to a subconscious anticipation of an adrenalin rush. Everything had been slow and dreamlike for hours after she had unlinked from her first big space battle. Maybe he
r body was preparing itself for another spike.
More likely it was because of the recent episode with Donal Courage. She re-ran the event in her mind for the thousandth time. Had it all really happened? Had he really said what he had? Was that expression confusion, surprise or appraisal? Maybe it had been all three! And how had she ever been so bold? Had she gone too far? Had she not gone far enough? Did she really want to go there anyway?
A sudden flurry of shouting broke her out of the reverie. She looked round. Someone had tripped and disrupted the flow. The woman got to her feet, still being buffeted by the scurrying multitudes, and hurried on without a word. Josie spotted a familiar face racing by. Reaching out, she caught Ben by the arm.
“What’s going on?”
Ben looked flushed. “Hey Josie! Sorry I didn’t see you - I was just going forward.”
“Why?”
"I'm on standby detail for the combat squadrons. Did you not hear the alarm? We're on full battle alert!"
"I was in the tech sheds. I got caught up in something. What's happening?"
Ben disentangled himself. “The story I heard is that the whole Triangle fleet is closing in on us, and we have to fight them off so we can hightailing it out of here pronto! Sorry Jose, I got to rush.” And he was gone.
“Not a completely accurate report,” said a now familiar voice. “But not that far off either.” It was Donal Courage. In some magical way he was now stood right beside her, clutching a mass of vidscrolls under one arm and looking calm and collected. His eyes had their now familiar warmth. Her heart fluttered, but she managed to speak calmly.
“Commander Courage, is it true? Are we really running away?”
He gave a rueful grin. “We are making a ‘strategic withdrawal’.” He shrugged at her expression. “Admittedly that usually is a military euphemism for ‘running away’, but in this case I can honestly say that it’s true. We really are pulling back to redeploy.”
He reached out, paused for an instant, and then took her by the arm and steered her out of the maddening crowd. Even that much physical contact was distracting.
The Jovian Sweep (Asteroid Scrabble Book 1) Page 35