Rumors of Honor (System States Rebellion Book 2)

by Dietmar Wehr

  The tactical display was now very simple to evaluate. He had two missile volleys clawing their way up out of Earth’s gravity well towards an enemy fleet that was now desperately trying to convert its forward downward momentum into a new sideways vector that at the very least would make missile interception more difficult. Romanov was willing to bet that the sideways vector would gradually morph into an escape vector if Alpha1 had enough time to accomplish that task. He didn’t think it would succeed. He was right.

  When his second volley reached the enemy fleet, all 11 of them stopped accelerating. They had obviously taken damage to their maneuvering engines. Two of them actually seemed to break up. The third volley finished off the others. All 11 ships were now a cloud of large pieces of metal coasting in formation. The volume of the cheers from the Bridge over the loudspeakers was deafening. Even the Flag Bridge crew were shouting with joy now.

  Romanov was stunned by the magnitude of his victory. None of his ships had suffered any damage whatsoever, and 16 enemy cruisers had been shot to pieces. When the shouting died down, he realized that Admiral Chenko was trying to reach him.

  “Romanov here, Admiral. Sorry to keep you waiting.” He could hear celebratory shouts in the background from the HQ Operations Center personnel too.

  “That’s okay, Commodore. Quite understandable under the circumstances. I want to be the first to congratulate you on a brilliant victory!” said Chenko.

  “Thank you, Sir. I’m not sure how brilliant it was though. Sixteen versus twenty-four are pretty awful odds. They didn’t really have much of a chance.”

  “Maybe not, but you managed to defeat them without suffering any casualties yourself. That’s worth some kudos. You still have half your Mark 1 load, don’t you?”

  “Yessir.” Romanov had a hunch where this conversation was going.

  “Very good. As soon as you’ve replenished your consumables, I’m going to send 1st Fleet back to Hadley with orders for General Trojan to attack Sparta as soon as possible. I think the enemy has rolled the dice on an all-or-nothing strategy, and if we hit them fast, we can catch them defenseless and maybe put an end to this Godawful war once and for all!”

  Romanov thought fast. “Do you think it might be a good idea to detach a few ships to remain here in case the enemy tries again, Sir?”

  “I’ll take it under consideration, and I’ll let you know before your re-provisioning is complete.”

  “Understood, Sir. I would also recommend that we try to recover or at least send people on board the larger pieces of wreckage. We may be able to gain some valuable intel.”

  “Hmm. Stand by while I see if that’s doable.” Romanov heard Chenko ask someone else about that possibility. A few seconds later Chenko came back on the line. “No can do, Commodore. Those large pieces are not only flying past Earth pretty fast, but they’re also apparently tumbling pretty fast too. The engineers here don’t think we’d be able to gain access to them. Anything else you want to ask or bring up before I sign off?”

  “No, Sir. Thank you for your call, Admiral.”

  “Tell your people that I said they did well. Chenko out.”

  * * * *

  Drake stood patiently beside the Com Tech and tried not to let the claustrophobic atmosphere of the freighter’s small and now crowded Bridge get to him. Eventually the Com Tech leaned back and took off his headphones.

  “Jutland has stopped transmitting, Sir. The last signal was the code for executing the self-destruct.”

  Drake looked around and saw that the others were showing the same relief that he was feeling. At this distance from Earth, they couldn’t be absolutely certain, but it seemed as though the battle had gone about as well as could be expected. Drake looked over to the freighter’s CO.

  “You can take us home now, Jack.”

  That generated a round of congratulations between Drake and the other cruiser commanders who had joined him on the Bridge to monitor the battle. Drake’s usual cautious optimism gradually surrendered to infectious enthusiasm. They had pulled it off and not just the final battle near Earth. The raid on Makassar had turned out well too. Thank God he had taken the flagship Oracle’s recommendation to send only the armored cruisers down to within missile range of Makassar’s industrial targets. Those fusion bomb pumped x-ray laser satellites orbiting Makassar had come as a nasty surprise, but the thin layer of collapsed matter protecting those five cruisers had absorbed most of the laser energy, and damage had been minimal. He shuddered at the thought of what those energy beams would have done to an unarmored ship. The existence of that type of weapon was a valuable piece of intel for the Union. It was clear to him at least that the FEDs were pursuing a different R&D strategy. P2 back on Sparta would have to take that new tech into consideration on future calculations.

  Chapter Twelve:

  Day 293/2546

  Trojan stepped out of the entrance to the Majestic Complex, as it was now known, and took in a lung full of air. He couldn’t remember the last time he had breathed natural air, and Romanov’s return was a good excuse to come up and remind himself how good it smelled. Naturally it was raining, but he didn’t mind. The overhang kept him dry, and the rain made the moist air smell clean, something the air purifiers in the complex still couldn’t do.

  He watched the aircar gently touch down and Romanov get out. With the road and the makeshift spaceport gone in order to help camouflage the existence and location of the Complex, the movement of supplies and personnel now had to be done by direct air transport to the Complex entrance.

  Romanov smiled as he saluted, and Trojan did the same. They had already spoken briefly by radio when 1st Fleet was approaching Hadley, but Trojan felt a face to face meeting was not only necessary but deserved. He extended his hand, and Romanov shook it.

  “Welcome home, Ivan. I reviewed the battle after we talked. You handled it beautifully. Textbook example of maximizing numerical and technological advantages.”

  “Thank you, Sir, but I can’t help feeling sorry for those poor buggers. They didn’t stand a chance, and they had to have figured that out before they died.”

  Trojan let his smile evaporate as he nodded. “A lot of good people are going to die before this damned war is over. Just remember, we’ll minimize how many die if we stay on the path to our ultimate goal.” When it was clear that Romanov would not respond to that, Trojan smiled again. “Let’s go down to my office and discuss a few things over some vodka. I presume you brought some more with you to replenish our dwindling stock?”

  “Sure did, General. It’ll arrive here soon.”

  As the two men entered the tunnel and got on the escalator, Trojan turned to Romanov. “Who’s idea was it to detach four ships to remain on defensive patrol?”

  “Mine, Sir.”

  “Hm. I doubt if it was necessary, but I’m sure it made the politicians feel safer. Who’s in command of that task force?”

  Romanov grimaced. Trojan wasn’t going to like the answer. “Stevens.”

  Trojan shook his head. “Why am I not surprised? On the other hand, the Old Man can keep a close eye on Stevens if the Union should attack again, so I suppose it does make sense from the Old Man’s point of view.”

  “Has Majestic expressed an opinion yet on the Old Man’s orders to attack Sparta?”

  Trojan waited for the two of them to step off the escalator before replying. “As a matter of fact, it has. It’s only giving a 61.8% probability that the attack was a sincere attempt to overpower 1st Fleet and a surprisingly high 34.6% probability that the attack was a deliberate sacrifice to entice us to do exactly what the Old Man wants us to do. The remaining probability covers all other possibilities. What do you think of that?”

  “I’m shocked that the machine would give that high a probability to the idea that the Union would deliberately sacrifice 16 ship crews. Could they really be that cold-blooded?”

  Trojan shrugged. “They might have asked for volunteers. Do we even know for sure that there WERE
crews on those ships?”

  Romanov thought that over carefully before answering. “Actually, we don’t know that for sure. The wreckage was moving too fast and tumbling too fast to be able to get our people aboard.”

  “How convenient for the SSU,” said Trojan. They said nothing more until both were comfortably seated in Trojan’s spacious office with drinks in their hands.

  “Makassar got hit again,” said Trojan. “From the timing, it’s clear that the Union fleet stopped there on their way to Earth. Whoever commanded that fleet had enough smarts to limit the bombardment to his five armored ships. The lasersats worked perfectly, but we don’t know how much damage, if any, they inflicted on those ships. Based on what those ships did at Earth, I’d have to say not very much.”

  “How much damage did Makassar suffer?” asked Romanov after taking a sip of his vodka.

  “We’re just about back to square one in terms of infrastructure. Casualties were light, all things considered.”

  “Just about what Majestic expected. Chenko’s not going to like it.”

  Trojan smiled. “No, I expect he won’t, but it’s too late now for him to try to relieve me of command. The troops here will back me if there’s a confrontation. Let’s change the subject. I’ve decided that we’ll go ahead with the attack on Sparta.”

  After a short pause, Romanov said, “They’re probably going to be ready for us, you know. I hope you’re not going to order us to fight to the death no matter what.”

  “Oh, they’ll be ready for us alright. That I’m sure of. And no, I’m not going to expect you and your people to commit suicide. Here’s what I want you to do instead.”

  Day 343/2546

  The Flag Bridge on board Conqueror was dead quiet as 1st Fleet emerged from hyper-space. The 3-D main tactical display quickly stabilized with what new data was available, which right now was limited to astrogational data only. 1st Fleet was using passive sensors, and so far there were no signs of any ships or missile boats in orbit around Sparta. Romanov frowned. If Sparta was actively scanning its surrounding space with microwave radar energy, his ships should have detected it by now, but so far nothing. The lack of radar beams meant that his ships wouldn’t be able to detect reflected microwave energy from missile boats already in orbit around the planet, and that worried him. 1st Fleet was still 300,000 kilometers further out beyond the hyper-zone boundary, which itself was almost 5.4 million kilometers from the planet. Therefore the chances of having missile boats close to his ships right now was very small, but the lack of definitive information made him nervous. The Spartans were playing it carefully, and that meant he had to as well. When three minutes had passed since their arrival and still no sign of any ships or boats or even that the Spartans were aware of their presence, Romanov decided to make his opening move.

  “Romanov to Fleet. Begin 360 degree active scanning.”

  The display showed a rapidly expanding shell of radar energy around the green icon representing 1st Fleet. The effective range of ship-borne radar was roughly 1.5 million kilometers or five light seconds. That was due to the fact that radar arrays that were more powerful were also too large to be able structurally to withstand the kinds of acceleration that a warship could generate. Prior to the war, it hadn’t been considered a problem. Romanov made a mental note to himself to recommend that the R&D boys try to come up with a solution for it now. When enough time had passed for the shell of radar energy to reach the effective limit and for reflected energy to return, it became apparent that there were no ships or missile boats within a radius of 1.5 million kilometers. His relief quickly turned into annoyance that he still didn’t know how strong the planet’s mobile defenses were. Damn the Spartans for fighting in an unconventional manner! He decided to wait a bit longer to see if there was any response by the Spartans.

  Spartan Space Force HQ:

  Janicot heard the door to his makeshift bedroom open. Before the visitor could say anything, he said, “Are they here?”

  “Yes, Sir. Twenty-four ships at approximately 5.7 megaklicks range. Velocity is less than 100 kps, but we’re still narrowing that down as we get more data from the optical bearings of the reflected sunlight.”

  “Okay. Tell Ops that I’ll be there shortly. Alert the ground crews, but nobody lifts off until I say so, got it?”

  “Got it, Sir.” The officer left, and the room plunged back into darkness, but Janicot was wide awake now. The FEDs had taken the bait, just as P2 had predicted. He quickly got up, turned the light on, and made sure his rumpled uniform was presentable. Once this battle was over, he could sleep in his own night clothes in his own bed again instead of using this temporary room at HQ. Satisfied that he wouldn’t embarrass himself with his appearance, he left the room and was soon in the large Operations Center. The Duty Officer saw him enter and approached him.

  “No change so far, Admiral. We’re updating Commodore Palmgren with the enemy’s position. The Secretary For Defense and the Chancellor have been notified and are headed for the Emergency Command Post. P2 is standing by to assume tactical command.”

  Janicot thanked him and put on the headset the officer had offered him. He could use that to communicate with all ground and orbiting forces instantly if necessary.

  “CSO to Task Force Leader,” said Janicot in what he hoped was a calm voice.

  “Task Force Leader here, Admiral. All boats are ready to lift off,” said Drake.

  “Very good. Stand by, Drake. When I turn control over to P2, your boats will respond instantly to any and all text message commands, understood?”

  “Loud and clear, Admiral. It’s actually nice to be back in a boat again, except I’d forgotten how cramped these things are.”

  Janicot laughed. “I’m sure that being in command of 30 boats doesn’t hurt either, eh Commodore?”

  “No, Sir, it certainly doesn’t, even if it’s only a temporary promotion.”

  Janicot was tempted to tell Drake that if they won the battle and Drake didn’t screw up, he just might make the temporary field promotion permanent but then decided now was not the time to convey that information.

  “Yes, well…good luck and good hunting, Drake.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Janicot looked over at the Duty Officer. “How much longer before Palmgren gets the targeting data?”

  The Duty Officer checked the data tablet in his hand. “Another 55 seconds, Admiral.”

  Janicot nodded and focused his attention on the main display. The FED fleet, now designated as Sierra1, was still coasting at low speed. It wasn’t maneuvering, and as far as they could tell it hadn’t opened fire yet. Until it did start to do either one, there was no point in handing tactical command of the battle to P2. Janicot had to wait for the FED Commander to commit his forces in some way. In the meantime, Drake had 20 missile boats on the ground, ready to lift off at a moment’s notice, and 10 more boats already in orbit. Janicot heard the main display ping to announce a status change. The red icon with the number 24 inside it was now showing 20/4. He quickly checked the sidebar data. P2 had analyzed the formation and calculated a high probability that four of the ships were transports.

  “Drake, is it possible that four of the ships in orbit around Earth were freighters and not warships?”

  “No, Sir. The relayed data we received clearly showed that all 24 FED ships fired missiles. If P2 is right, then the FEDS have left four warships behind. That means no clean sweep even if we take out all these bogeys.”

  “Damn,” said Janicot in a low voice. P2 was wrong about the FEDs committing their entire fleet, but the implications for the short term would have to wait until this battle was over. “D.O.,” The Duty Officer turned to look at Janicot in response to his call. “I want you to make sure that Commodore Palmgren gets the updated analysis of the FED fleet composition.”

  The officer checked and nodded. “That new evaluation is already on its way now, Admiral.”

  Janicot waved his acknowledgement and looked at
the display again. Sierra1 still wasn’t maneuvering or firing, but it was actively scanning now.

  “Can they detect our orbiting boats?” Janicot asked the Duty Officer.

  “No, Sir, not unless their radar arrays are a lot more sensitive than we think.”

  Okay, FED Commander, what are you going to do now?

  1st Fleet Flagship:

  Romanov paced back and forth in front of the main display on the Flag Bridge and grew more frustrated as he did so. Five minutes had passed since 1st Fleet’s arrival, and there was still no sign at all that the Spartans were even aware of their presence. There was no point in even considering firing missiles at the planet from this distance, because the lack of radar coverage meant that they wouldn’t know if the missiles hit their target or had been intercepted. Besides which, 1st Fleet’s mission was to conquer Sparta, not destroy it. That’s what the four freighters and the 50,000 infantry and 500 tanks they were carrying were for. He kept reviewing his limited options and kept coming back to the same conclusion. Either take 1st Fleet’s warships down into Sparta’s hyper-zone until they were close enough to the planet to detect any orbiting ships or boats OR abort the mission and jump back to Hadley. That last option wasn’t really an option at all. If he ordered 1st Fleet to run home without testing Sparta’s defenses, Trojan would have every right to have him court-martialled for cowardice in the face of the enemy. The Spartans weren’t leaving him with any real choice. He stopped pacing and walked over to the Astrogation Station, where the Astrogator quickly made the necessary calculations based on Romanov’s quick explanation of what he wanted. With the data calculated and disseminated to all 24 ships, Romanov switched on the fleet-wide com channel again.