Admiral's Nemesis Part II

by Luke Sky Wachter

  “Not necessarily in that order, but yes,” agreed Druid.

  “And our response?” I prompted.

  Kling made a disgusted noise. “I don’t even know why you’re asking us. The solution to your question is as simple in theory as it is difficult in practice, especially considering we’ve already done it once before,” said Kling. “Concentrate our forces, fall back on a prepared position, wait for the enemy to come to us, and then smash them—or die in the attempt.”

  “Getting them to come to a place of our choosing is the trick,” I sighed. I’d hoped for a miracle of tactics or strategy to emerge from this meeting of the minds. Discovering a solid but difficult plan instead—and one I'd already considered at some depressing length—was a letdown.

  “Easy Haven is out since Wolf-9 was destroyed, but either Sector Central or the Aegis Star System have strong enough orbital fortifications that, when paired with a large fleet, might give us a chance,” Kling said ironically. “The problem isn’t what the ideal response to their invasion is, but rather, having already destroyed one Imperial Fleet with that tactic, will the 'Glorious Fleet' be willing to do the same?”

  “Imperial arrogance knows no bounds. Anything is possible,” Druid said stoutly, “furthermore, their new fleet commander might just want to crush you wherever he finds you to prove Arnold Janeski’s loss was nothing more than a fluke.”

  When it came to that last point he sounded doubtful, like a man that didn’t really believe what he was saying but feeling the need to throw it out there anyway.

  “I highly doubt that,” Kling voice was scathing, “remember that this isn’t some glory hungry, up and coming young officer too big for his britches we’re dealing with. We’re talking about an Imperial Senator and former Admiral in the Imperial Navy. You just don’t rise that high in the Empire by being incompetent, the Confederation fleet maybe, but not the navy,” he said definitively.

  “If anything he’s going to be more cautious because of Janeski’s defeat, not less so,” Kling rolled his eyes, “I honestly can’t understand Battleship officers. What exactly goes on in those duralloy skulls of yours?”

  “I don’t think it’s likely, but it is possible, so don’t go ragging on Battleship officers just because you’re jealous of us. Frankly I came up through the lighter warships just like everyone else in this room. The only difference is I made it to the big leagues,” grunted Druid, fighting the formation of a smug expression at the corners of his mouth.

  “You couldn’t pay me to join the ‘big league.’ As far as I’m concerned as soon as an officer steps one foot on a waller’s deck, it’s the same as immediately losing 10-20 points of IQ,” retorted Kling.

  “I think we’re getting off track here,” I interrupted, rolling my eyes, “we can’t count on our enemy being overconfident, and besides that my family has a history with the Cornwallis House and this Senator in particular. He may be brutal, callous and uncaring about civilian casualties but he’s neither stupid nor incompetent,” I made sure to emphasize that, “so he may very well avoid attacking a fortified position until after he’s worn down our fleet. The next question is what do we do to counter?”

  The two Commodores exchanged a look and then Druid gestured to his fellow commodore.

  “You’ve been quite eager to point out all the holes in everything I’ve said so far. How about you take the lead for once?” said the Commodore.

  “For once?” Kling shot back and then shook his head. “Sure, pick on the crippled person.”

  “I don’t judge a man by the limits of his physical capabilities but rather on the merit of his mind—something that so far seems to be lacking in your case if you’re intending to use your infirmities to dodge the challenge,” Druid said righteously, earning a second dark look before Kling scowled at him and turned to me.

  “Considering the edge Cornwallis and his fleet are going to have in Imperial propulsion and hyper-space jump technology?” he asked in a rhetorical voice.

  “Yes, that,” I said dryly.

  Kling sighed. “Factoring that in, his Imperial hulls will be able to jump circles around our fleet, comparatively speaking of course,” said Kling.

  “Of course,” I repeated, mockingly gesturing with my wrist for him to keep going. So far this wasn’t anything close to putting anything forward. So far, I had to say he was failing the Druid challenge.

  As if sensing this, Commodore Kling rallied, “If we want to outmaneuver the Empire and force a battle on our terms, we’ll have to hope the Confederation warships attached to his fleet slow him to a pace that allows us to direct the Imperial Senator to a location of our choosing and then attack. Again, at such a location as Aegis or Central,” said Kling.

  “What if he chooses to avoid combat, or simply doesn’t care how much damage his allied ships soak up in order to wear us down, and then attacks when we’re not ready?” gloated Druid.

  Kling looked at him irritably. “Why are you looking so happy at the enemy potentially destroying us, Commodore?” he rebuked.

  “It’s not that I’m happy at the situation,” Druid said soberly, “I’m just surprised that you only seem able to point out the flaws in the things I say.”

  “At least words can be used to accurately predict the Imperials' most likely courses of actions, unlike some people,” Kling said slyly.

  “Enough, you two,” I shook my head sternly at the peanut gallery. This was a serious discussion and one that could decide the fate of more than seven sectors of known space.

  Kling looked at me and his shoulders twitched. I got the sense he would have used his hands if his arms hadn’t been paralyzed.

  “I’m not sure what else I can offer. Until we have a better understanding of the size of the enemy fleet, there’s no way of knowing if our light forces can somehow tie the enemy down long enough to do something like send out an FTL message via ComStat buoy. Then somehow ambush them with larger warships lying in wait within jump range,” said Kling, “or perhaps we could try letting the Imperial warships run circles around us, lulling them into a false sense of security and once they let their guards down and put some separation between their forces, we turn around and ravage their slower moving Confederation escorts with localized superiority.”

  “The second is more risky than the first, but either might work,” I mused.

  Kling looked unhappy despite my words. “What we have to keep in mind is that the heartlanders are most likely to be using second generation warships, while we of the Spine are still using third generation warships at best,” Kling said with a long face. “Personally I don’t see as how we can achieve a crushing victory without a numerical advantage or the possession of fixed or hidden defenses. Neither of which the Imperials are going to just stand around and let us use.”

  “Which just means we have to be sneaky,” I said breezily, a plan already forming in my head, “I’d like to draw up a few general purpose plans for a sneak attack using orbital guns or the hidden pop-up missile launchers we used in the last Easy Haven battle.”

  “Garbage in, garbage out,” Kling said rhetorically, “I can draw up any number of hypothetical contingencies but what I can’t do is make anything along the lines of a more concrete plan until we know what we have to play with, including the star system or systems we’re planning to seed them in or at least some rough idea of just what the other side is bringing to the table.”

  “All I need are the outlines,” I said absently, my mind already plotting out how I was going to trick and outmaneuver Cornwallis and his oh-so-high-and-mighty Imperial Fleet. Third rate warships, indeed!

  “Well...alright,” Kling said unhappily.

  “My fellow Commodore is right in his assessment that we can’t get down to specifics yet, but we can start working on the broad strokes right away,” Druid agreed. “I haven’t done this sort of staff work since the academy so I might be a little rusty, but I’m sure my fellow Commodore is willing to help me out. Independent assignments, p
atrol routes and squadron command have been high on the agenda lately, contingency planning…not so much,” he said dryly.

  “No wonder they stuck you with the Battleships,” Kling sighed. “Now, as what was essentially the former head of the Tracto-an SDF—let’s not even mention my time with the Caprian SDF—I’ve done more paperwork, including system defense planning, than I care to remember,” Kling said wryly.

  “Good! You can take the lead,” Druid said brightening.

  “What are you on about? Have you taken a look at these hands lately?” Kling asked witheringly and gestured with his chin to the lifeless arms in his hover-chair. “Now maybe as a learning experience you can be my spare pair of arms. I’ll dictate and you get to do all the leg work...might be plausible, and it’ll help hone those nonexistent flag skills of yours.”

  Commodore Druid eyed him like he was a piece of three day old bread left on the table. “I wouldn’t call my higher command skills non-existent,” he said with censure.

  “Quite your bellyaching and push my chair for me, you lump,” ordered Kling.

  “You two can use the war planning room,” I approved.

  The two other officers soon moved the discussion out of my office which was fortunate. I had several other messages to send.

  Chapter 4: The ‘Unofficial’ War Plan

  “I’m glad the three, er...four of you could come here so quickly,” I said, quite pleased as a human, a Sundered and two droids stepped into the ready room.

  “Not a problem, Sir,” Spalding said stoutly.

  I gave Steiner a significant look.

  “Activating personal stealth systems now, Admiral,” she acknowledged, placing a small metallic sphere on the table and turning on the anti-eavesdropping system before exiting the room.

  “You can stay, Lisa,” I said.

  She looked surprised. “Admiral?” she asked, but I just gestured her to the seat beside Akantha.

  “If you’re compromised, we’re already finished and we just don’t know it yet. So, that being the case, I need you to help me keep track of everything more than I need the illusion that having you gone will increase our chances of pulling this off, because as far as I can tell that’s just plain wrong,” I explained seriously, and when she nodded and started to pull out a tablet I held up a halting finger.

  “Sir?’ she asked.

  “While I trust you, I don’t trust the computer system—at least, not as much. We don’t need any electronic records for the moment,” I said, and with the flick of the wrist I reached down and slid a sheaf of old fashioned paper along with a pen into her hands.

  “I haven’t taken notes on actual paper since Caprian history class back in school this will be… interesting,” she muttered, wrinkling her nose with surprise.

  “No electronic records?” the droid representative asked with alarm. “How are we to maintain the continuity of agreements, let alone establish the veracity of anything agreed to here, if we can’t verify it?”

  “Except for what is naturally created within your memory buffers, of course,” I conceded quickly, as there was no point in getting side tracked. Then cocked my head, “Unless the chairman has an objection?”

  “No objection. Data restriction is a key part of any potentially clandestine meeting or agreement,” the spindle shaped droid said, rearranging his stick-thin arms as he perched on his chair and hooted.

  His droid companion took up a position behind and slightly to the side of him. The second droid showed no intention of sitting down.

  I eyed the other droid critically. It was most likely a bodyguard or an adviser of some kind. Most likely both.

  A large, hairy figure moved into the room.

  Settling down beside Bottletop IIV into an oversized, solid metal chair—brought in for him personally just for this occasion—the giant gorilla uplift grunted.

  As he leaned back and the chair creaked in protest, the cybernetic hardware in the back of Primarch Glue’s head flashed animatedly.

  “Hmph,” came the familiar voice momentarily eclipsed by the small mountain of hair, muscle and bone in front of him, as the old cyborg with long metal legs snorted and maneuvered around the Uplift. “I don’t see what all the hubbub is about,” Chief Engineer Terrence Spalding declared, grabbing a chair, offsetting it at an angle to the table—apparently to accommodate a new tool belt that bulged suspiciously to one side—as he snorted, “it’s not as if mankind didn’t get along perfectly fine for countless thousands of years before electronics, or even the written word were invented. Of course,” he mused openly, “we’d all still be grubbing in the mud looking for worms to eat if we hadn’t gotten that! On the other hand, and considering that some act like pigs rolling around in the mud once they get their hands on an electronic device anyway…well then I suppose that’s no great loss either way.”

  “Spalding,” I said with exasperation. Between the support, backhanded insults and blatantly open insults, both to myself and all of humanity at large, I wasn’t sure if I should be reprimanding the old man—or better yet threatening to bar the old miser from future meetings if he didn’t shape up.

  In the end I did neither. Spalding was just too valuable to even temporarily exile, not when the Empire was now officially invading us.

  “Thank you, Sir,” Spalding laughed, as if he’d just been complimented.

  Clearly, I thought, irritated because if any man in this fleet was a true tyrant it was the old chief engineer not me.

  “Sorry. But, as they say, the truth sometimes hurts, Sir. However I’m certain that with the young Miss behind the helm of that pen, nothing will be missed,” the old engineer said, flashing an unrepentant grin.

  “I was concerned with my hand cramping,” Steiner muttered, giving the old engineer an ungrateful look while Spalding started craning his head around as if looking for whoever she was speaking to.

  “Looking for something or…someone, Wizard?” Akantha interjected from my side, “perhaps you expected someone else to attend this meeting?”

  “What. Oh?” Spalding started and then hastened to assure her, “No! Of course not. Nothing like that in the slightest. Everything is perfectly fine just the way it is. No need to add interfering busy bodies that think they know better than an old honest warship engineer just because they work in a yard now.”

  “Are not the learned opinions of our very own engineering wizards of the highest quality?” Akantha asked as if she’d just heard something suspicious. “Or is it simply that anyone else, even the best of women or men, would be redundant.”

  “Redundant? Now that’s a good word, a very fine word indeed,” Spalding nodded sagely and then ran a hand through his recently re-growing hair as he pontificated. “Too many cooks in the kitchen is a recipe for disaster, I always say. We don’t need a bunch of hands stirring in the same pot. Not when you’ve got me around.”

  “Correct,” Akantha shared a smile with the incorrigible old man.

  Meanwhile I felt the urge to groan and gag both of them.

  “I’m not exactly sure when or where a conversation about note-keeping and a pen morphed into an argument against listening to the opinions of other engineers, but I’m pretty sure we’ve managed to drift afield,” I grunted, and then before either of them could insert a protest turned to face the room in general. “Now that we are gathered here together I would like to make a statement and, in the interest of good relations, give my allies—the Sundered and the USA droids—both a chance to give and receive input,” I said, seizing back control over the conversation.

  Glue’s hand thumped down on the table, the muscles around his eyes tightening while the droids became unnaturally still for several second before the chairman cocked his head.

  “Please compile your update and we will download it, Admiral,” the Chairman Bottletop IIV said respectfully and Spalding, whose mouth had been opening, now closed discontentedly as he settled back into his chair.

  I put on a serious expression to let e
veryone understand I wasn’t saying this next part lightly.

  “First off, I don’t want anyone outside of this room to know this so don’t go spreading it around. Those who need to know have already been told and as for the rest it's better if they’re not burdened for the time being. As they say, in some cases ignorance is bliss.”

  I stopped and there was a pregnant pause as I gathered my thoughts. There was no good way to say it I decided finally.

  “After consulting with everyone, from fleet legal department to my top subordinates, I’ve...let’s say ‘unofficially’ decided to throw my support behind the Spineward Confederation,” I said, and as soon as I finished I looked around the room to assess the impact of the news and then held up a hand. “I want to be very clear about this next part, as clear as I can be. There is nothing final about this decision. I am still willing to change my mind.”

  A hard expression crossed my face as the image of Governor Isaak the man who had pushed me into this corner appeared in my mind.

  “But, barring new information or an unexpected development this means we, the MSP and the Border Alliance, we will have to go all in for the Spine,” I said and then glared around the room, “as far as I’m concerned the Empire will never have this region of space. Over. My. Dead. Body. As they say.”

  I let that sink in and I could see how agitated Primarch Glue and the droid’s were by the almost diametrically opposite reactions each one had. While Glue shifted around in his chair with agitation the droids were once again unnaturally still.

  “No matter what the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet or the worlds of the Border Alliance do, this is not a monarchy with Prince Jason at the top, which is why I wanted to speak with each of your groups privately,” I said and then stopped to see what they had to say.

  “This Primarch appreciates your candor, Admiral,” Glue rumbled from deep within his chest.