She took a long breath. The plan had been drawn up by a planning cell, under her direct command. It hadn't been shared with the Admiralty, let alone the Senate or the Special Security Council. She’d watched it take shape and form, even though she’d been aware that the enemy might do something - anything - to turn the plan into so much wasted effort. War was a democracy, she reminded herself. The enemy got a vote.
“They will have to funnel ships through the gravity points, which will create a series of bottlenecks,” she said. “That will give us an opportunity to bring our concentred strength to bear against isolated enemy detachments. A full-scale gravity point assault, sir, is hugely costly to the attackers. I believe the attackers would require a ten-to-one advantage to break through the defences and secure the system.”
Which is why it took so long for a galactic hegemony to arise, she thought, remembering her history lessons. The Tokomak didn't take control until they found a way to bypass the gravity points.
“The plan is basically simple,” she continued. “The Offensive Fleet will depart, within the week, and secure control of Apsidal itself. We should be able to beat the enemy fleet to the nexus if we move now. We take control of the system, land troops on the planet and prepare to bleed the enemy white when they start moving through the gravity point. They’ll have some real problems if they want to take the system without suffering immense casualties.”
“And if you’re wrong?” Mongo asked. “What happens if they get there first?”
“We harry them as best as we can, while setting up ambushes further down the chain,” Hoshiko said, bluntly. The Tokomak would have more options for outflanking her if they reached Apsidal first. If she were in command of the enemy fleet, she would have put securing Apsidal right on the top of the list. “We don’t want to waste ships and men trying to mount a gravity point assault ourselves.”
She contemplated the possibilities for a long moment. The planners had made it clear that Apsidal had to be taken and held. Giving the Tokomak a chance to flood the sector with warships would be disastrous in so many different ways. They’d have the opportunity to batter their way to Earth, but also the chance to intimidate wavering members of the Galactic Alliance into returning to their side. Hoshiko wouldn't blame the younger races for rethinking their positions, if the Tokomak put a gun to their heads. They resented the dominance of the elder races, but they also knew they couldn’t stand up to their elders in an even fight. Their technology, even with human assistance, wasn't enough to turn any engagement into an even fight.
“Apsidal itself may be wavering,” she added. “If we arrived in sufficient force, we might be able to convince the planet to switch sides.”
“And it wouldn’t matter if it remained loyal,” Kevin pointed out. “They wouldn't be able to interfere once you controlled the outer system.”
“Yes, sir,” Hoshiko said. Apsidal was heavily defended - the Tokomak had invested in securing all of the known gravity point nexuses - but the planetary defences couldn’t hit anything beyond the high orbitals. She could lay siege to the planet, if she wished, or simply ignore it. “There is good reason, however, to think that most of the population will switch sides.”
Mongo coughed. “We will see what happens when we arrive,” he said, gruffly. “They told us the Iraqis would welcome us as liberators too.”
“We can promise the locals a better deal,” Kevin countered.
“Which we may not be in a position to enforce,” Mongo warned. “If the locals switch sides - and then we lose control of the system - Apsidal is doomed. The Tokomak will probably bombard the planet into submission, then take direct control of whatever is left.
“Yes, sir,” Hoshiko said. She’d read the reports from Hudson and the Harmonies. The Tokomak had been securing the gravity points for the last few years. They’d been quite relaxed about them, in the past, but clearly that had changed too. They might just have realised that they were in a fight for their very existence. “We have no reason to doubt it.”
“And nor do they,” Mongo said. “It might be better to give the locals plausible deniability.”
“If we can,” Kevin said. “Do you know how many underground groups have requested our support over the last six months?”
“Yeah,” Mongo said. “And do you know how many of those groups will survive if the Tokomak take the gloves off?”
Steven cleared his throat, loudly. “I believe we’re getting off-topic,” he said. “Admiral” - his eyes rested on Hoshiko - “do you believe the plan is workable?”
“I believe it offers us our best chance to survive,” Hoshiko said. “If we allow them to bring their fleet to Sol, sir, we will be unable to keep them from devastating the entire system. They won’t remain focused on Earth, not this time. They’ll concentrate on wrecking the solar system from one end to the other. We’ll hurt them badly, sir, but they can afford to take it. They can trade a thousand ships for every one of ours and still come out ahead.”
She nodded at the starchart. “We can bleed them badly at Apsidal, without exposing too many of our ships to their fire. And we can keep hurting them, keep their fleet off-balance, until we bleed them dry. It may be our only chance for survival. The Tokomak are out for blood.”
“Yes,” Kevin agreed. “We have good reason to believe that surrenders are not going to be accepted, at least in our case. The Tokomak want us exterminated. We’re simply too disruptive, too bad an example to the younger races. We cannot hope that they will allow some of us to live.”
“There is the long-range colonisation project,” Steven said.
“We assume they will have the time they need to settle an isolated system and rebuild,” Mongo said. “But how many things could go wrong?”
Hoshiko nodded. The idea of sending a colony ship a very long way from Sol - and the Tokomak - was a good one, but Mongo was right. Too many things could go wrong. The ship could run into a powerful and hostile alien race, or have technical problems that would wreck the ship thousands of light years from any help, or have problems finding a suitable star system to settle. And if the Tokomak suspected that a colony ship had been dispatched into the unexplored regions, they’d spare no effort to find it. If humanity had shaken their empire to the core in less than sixty years, what might happen if an isolated colony had a couple of hundred years to rebuild? Hoshiko had been told, once, that humanity would have been able to stomp the Tokomak flat if they’d been allowed a hundred years or so for research and development. She wasn’t sure if that was true, but it didn’t matter. The Tokomak might believe it.
Ross frowned. “How many ships do you intend to assign to the operation?”
“As many as possible,” Hoshiko said. “I’d like to have the first, second and third fleets, for starters. And then reserve ships too. I’d also like to take the prefabricated fortresses from Varner, if they can be collected in time. We need to mass as much firepower as possible on the gravity points.”
“You’re talking about stripping the Solar Union of two-thirds of its mobile firepower,” Ross pointed out. “That won’t go down well in the Senate. There’s always some hysterical personage who’ll start insisting that we’ll all be murdered in our beds.”
“The more things change,” Steven commented, “the more they stay the same.”
“Human nature doesn’t change.” Ross sounded amused. “And no one has any doubt that we’ll be slaughtered if the Tokomak invade the system.”
“Then it would be better to keep the Tokomak away from the system,” Mongo said, dryly. “I think we should be able to guarantee Sol’s security against any real threat, at least until the Tokomak arrive. The real problem will be escorting convoys to the Grand Alliance. We might have to call on our allies to provide protection.”
“They should be able to handle it,” Ross said. “But they’re scared too.”
“If we can block the Tokomak at Apsidal, their worlds should be safe,” Hoshiko said. Her lips twisted into something a c
haritable man might call a smile. “And if we fail, their worlds are doomed anyway.”
“I think we’ll be a little more diplomatic when we discuss the matter with them,” Ross said, dryly. “Gentlemen? Do you have any thoughts?”
“Boldness is our only hope,” Steven said. “If we sit here and wait to be hit, we’ll lose. We cannot hope to survive the first blow, just to make a crystal-clear case that we were attacked.”
“And we don’t have to make such a case,” Mongo teased him. “Everyone knows the Tokomak are out to destroy us. We all knew that it was only a matter of time before they dispatched another fleet to Sol. Show the records from Hudson to the people, Mr. President, and you’ll have all the support you could possibly need.”
“Let us hope so,” Ross said. “Admiral, when would you intend to depart?”
“As soon as possible,” Hoshiko said. She hastily assessed the situation. “Realistically, we’d be looking at a week to two weeks. The fleet is maintained in a constant state of readiness, but we’d have to load up the fleet train and, if necessary, recall and requisition freighters from their other duties.”
“The merchant spacers will love that,” Kevin muttered.
“They’ll understand the urgent need for transport,” Steven said, briskly. “My ship can be amongst those requisitioned. The real problem lies in the damage this will do to our economy.”
“Better to be poorer for a while than dead,” Mongo said. “We can rebuild afterwards, if there is an afterwards.”
“Yes, sir,” Hoshiko said. “We can still support the fleet and, right now, that’s all that matters.”
“True,” Kevin agreed.
Ross tapped the table for attention. “I’ll make a formal request for war powers this afternoon, then,” he said. “The Senate will be meeting in emergency session, where they’ll see the recordings from Hudson for the first time. Admiral, start preparing to mobilise as soon as you return to your ship. I have no doubt the Senate will agree to grant war powers.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Hoshiko said. She kept her doubts to herself. “I have to say, though, that we have to keep our intentions secret. The Tokomak must not be ... ah, encouraged - to speed up their plans. We must assume that they’re keeping a close eye on us.”
“Insofar as they can,” Kevin said. “We did manage to turn a couple of alien spies into assets.”
“We can’t assume they’re the only ones,” Hoshiko reminded him, dryly. She couldn’t understand why some humans might betray their own race, but she couldn’t deny that it had happened. There were enough humans amongst the stars, descendents of men and women taken from Earth centuries ago, for her to believe that the Tokomak might be able to turn them into spies. “It’s important that we don’t give them any hint of our plans.”
“I’ll see to that,” Ross said. “Only the Oversight Committee will know the full plan.”
“Thank you, Mr. President,” Hoshiko said. There would be no way to conceal the mobilisation, but no one outside a handful of people would know the fleet’s intended destination. “As long as we have the advantage of surprise, we should be able to take Apsidal before they realise what we’re planning.”
Steven met her eyes. “And if they get there first?”
“We’ll have to improvise,” Hoshiko told him. “We have to bleed their fleet white before it reaches Earth.”
Chapter Three
Captain Martin Luther Douglas couldn't help swaggering a little as he strode into the briefing room, followed by two of his subordinates. Special Forces Recon were the best of the best, heirs to traditions that stretched all the way back to the Navy SEALS, the Special Air Service and a dozen other special forces outfits from Old Earth. Martin knew, without false modesty, that he and his men were perhaps the finest fighting force in the galaxy, capable of everything from stealthy insertions into enemy territory to training and supporting insurgent forces on alien worlds. Indeed, their last deployment had been to a world - Earth itself - that was both familiar and disconcertingly alien. It had been shitty when Martin had left, six years ago, but it had somehow managed to grow worse. He hadn’t enjoyed the deployment.
He took a seat at the front of the room, crossed his legs and settled down to wait. No one stood on formality in Special Forces Recon, not when they’d all seen the elephant time and time again. Senior officers had nothing to prove to their juniors. Anyone who made it through Selection - and survived his first deployment - was an outstanding soldier. Martin had been told that he’d be jumped up two ranks if he went back to the regular forces. It hadn't interested him.
Major Griffin entered the room and strode to the podium. He was a tall man, his brown hair cut close to his scalp. Griffin wasn't as heavily muscled as some of the men in the room, but it didn’t matter. Martin had been on deployments under Griffin’s command. He knew from experience that Griffin was a good leader as well as a soldier. Martin envied the man’s children, even though there was a risk their father would never come home. What would he have become, he’d wondered more than once, if he’d had a real father in his life? But a boy who grew up in the ghetto would be lucky if he had any positive role model to emulate.
“Gentlemen and ladies,” Major Griffin said. “We’re going into lockdown after this briefing, so remember the rules. Anything you write, and I mean anything, will be scrutinised before it reaches its destination.”
Martin nodded, although it was irritating. There was only one person outside the Special Forces Recon he wanted to contact and she had a security clearance that left his in the dust. But he understood the precautions. Special Forces Recon couldn't do half of its work if everyone knew what they were doing. He’d just have to be careful what he put in the letter, when he wrote to Yolanda. The lockdown wouldn’t let them actually speak face-to-face.
And we can’t even mention going into lockdown, he thought, crossly. That’ll get scrubbed by the censors too.
“We will be deploying in less than a week,” Major Griffin informed them. “Ideally, we’ll be transferred to a MEU in a day or two, where we will wait for everyone else to catch up with us. I trust this won’t be a problem?”
Martin shook his head. Special Forces Recon was designed for immediate deployment, if necessary. They were supposed to be able to reach any point within the Solar System in less than a day. Having a couple of days to make preparations was unusual. It suggested a long-term deployment rather than an emergency that had popped up out of nowhere. But it felt a little odd. He wondered, idly, what had happened. The Solar Marines normally handled long-term deployments.
“Our destination is a system called Apsidal,” Major Griffin said. The name meant nothing to Martin. “Apsidal is a gravity point nexus, with no less than five known gravity points within the system. Our interest lies in Apsidal-VI, the centre of civilisation for the sector. All you need to know, right now, is that it’s ruled by a planetary oligarchy that spends most of its time sucking up to our enemies.”
His lips quirked. “Believe me, you will have plenty of time to read the background files during the voyage.”
If you give us time, Martin thought. They’d be spending most of the voyage training, of that he was sure. Downtime was relatively rare, even during leave. He’d been unable to go on a long vacation for fear he might be recalled at any moment. You’ll be pitting us against the marines to test their skills, will you not?
“Ideally, we will be able to secure the system - and the planet - without difficulty,” Major Griffin added. “If not, depending on the exact situation, our task will be to either take the planet itself, neutralising its defences along the way, or provide support to local insurgents. I don’t think I need to remind you, particularly after the incident in San Francisco, that the latter will be extremely difficult. There are no hints, in any of the briefing notes, that there are any alternate power structures on the planet.”
Which means the different insurgent groups may hate each other as much as they hate the oligarchy, Mar
tin thought. He hadn’t been in San Francisco when the shit hit the fan, but he’d heard the stories. One group of insurgents had been more interested in slaughtering its rivals than actually rebuilding the country. We may find ourselves caught in the middle.
“A further complication is that the enemy may attempt to kick us out of the system, once we secure it,” Major Griffin warned. “I’m sure you can tell what that may mean for our deployment. We might find ourselves trapped on the planet, with no way out.”
Martin nodded, curtly. It wasn't a pleasant thought. On Earth, they’d been able to teleport out if things really went wrong. On Apsidal, that wouldn't be an option if there were no ships in teleport range. The Tokomak knew how to jam teleport signals, too. It wasn't that hard with the right equipment. They’d have no trouble trapping the troops on Apsidal until they were ready to deal with them.
“If that happens, our objective will be to harass the enemy as much as possible, ideally with help from the locals,” Major Griffin warned. “But the odds of survival will be very low.”
The Long-Range War Page 3