Admiral's Nemesis Part II

by Luke Sky Wachter

  “We won’t win,” she said with certainty.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Either way we’ll have given the Empire so much trouble that they’ll think twice before attacking another Spineward Sectors fleet. We might even do enough damage that the politicians will be able to reach some kind of settlement and the survivors of this battle won’t rot away as prisoners of war for the rest of their lives,” I said.

  She stared at me. “Dark Matter. Talk some sense into him,” she snapped and cut the channel.

  For almost a minute after she left we remained silent, me looking at him and him looking at something about knee height off camera.

  “So that’s it?” he asked finally.

  “Yep.”

  “I guess we’d all just hoped for more,” he said.

  “Pull back the curtain before the magician is ready and you probably won’t like what you see,” I said with a shrug. “It might not be great plan but it’s the best one we’ve got so we’re going to stick with it. I hope that isn’t going to be a problem for you.”

  He shook his head. “It won’t. You can count on me. Greta will come around,” he said, rallying and at the end of it looking firm and decisive.

  “Good,” I replied, not caring that they didn’t like the plan they’d decided must have been what I’d come up with. Their morale looked like it had taken a hit but so what? It wasn’t my job to hold their hands and sooth their egos over a com-channel that could be intercepted by the enemy.

  “If you happen to stumble over an extra fleet somewhere, you’ll be sure to bring it along?” Dark Matter said hopefully.

  “I’ll make that my top priority,” I said with the patently false reassurance of a politician and I could see his shoulders sink.

  Not that I cared, because in the end the definition of a secret plan counted on one crucial element: the plan had to stay secret.

  If anything, I decided their lack of faith was disturbing, not my failure to ease their minds at the risk of total defeat.

  I leaned back in my throne after the two Admirals had both signed off and stared back at the main screen where the Imperial flotilla was finally and at very long last moving to rejoin forces with the Old Confederation fleet.

  “Glorious indeed,” I sneered, looking at the Glorious Fleet of Liberation and all it’s so called glory.

  My fleet might be having issues at the moment, but it was nothing compared to the constant reshuffling of squadrons and even entire task forces of fifty ships as they jockeyed for position on their left flank, meanwhile their right flank was a hot mess of individual warships that seemed to have lost the ability to fly in formation after they cleared the asteroid belt.

  Chapter 52: Imperial Gloating

  Moving at the best speed of its flagship, the Mighty Punisher, the Imperial Flotilla left the asteroid belt behind and quickly began to catch up with the Glorious Fleet of Liberation.

  Charles Cornwallis’s face was a study of conflicting emotion, disgust, amusement, irony and anger.

  “As expected of the rotting hulk that the Confederation Fleet has become,” he grimaced.

  “An eclectic collection of planetary militias and Sector guardians,” his Chief of Staff agreed.

  “Set this mess right before I have to start executing people and cause an intergalactic incident,” Senator Cornwallis growled.

  The Commodore looked at him to see if he was serious and turned away fighting to keep his own expression calm.

  “Get me the so-called Admirals in command of the Glorious Fleet—and tell them I’m calling on behalf of the Praetor!” he barked marching over to the com-station

  By the time the Flotilla joined the Confederation forces, the Glorious Fleet of Liberation had assumed a combat formation and been split into two roughly equal sections. Like the horns of a bull, the Confederation forces were spread out in front and to either side of the anvil that was the Imperial Flotilla.

  In front of the Flotilla and in between the two Confederation forces the space fighters of the Empire, the Imperial Strike Fighters, began to assemble.

  “The Spineward Sectors Fleet has increased speed by 5%,” reported the Mighty Punisher’s Captain.

  “It’s still nothing; continue as planned and have Navigation make the necessary adjustments and send updates as needed throughout the fleet,” said the Senator as the combined Confederation/Imperial fleet began to overtake the Spineward sectors forces.

  “Sensors has been able to confirm that a number of their warships, including at least five Battleships, have been badly damaged by our fighter strikes,” said the Chief of Staff.

  “It won’t take much more of this to wreck the Spineward Sectors Fleet,” Charles Cornwallis said clinically.

  “Frankly I’m surprised they’re not running,” said the Chief of Staff.

  “No doubt it’s a trap of some kind,” the Senator said offhandedly.

  “Yet even knowing that you’re still going in? I thought you intended to avoid the mistakes of the Reclamation Fleet and not play their game…Sir,” the Commodore added quickly.

  “You have a point, but the fact is I have them right where I want them. I have no doubt they have what they believe is a surprise in store for us, but even if they were able to use their mysterious jump ability, we’re forewarned and forewarned is forearmed,” said the Senator.

  “They could jump in another entire fleet,” the Chief of Staff pointed out with agitation.

  “Take a moment to think about what you just said,” pointed out the Senator, “just how many warships are there in the entire Spine? Even if they could double their current fleet, we’d still have them outnumbered two-to-one and we have the tech edge.”

  “It would be more costly, but we’d still win,” said the Chief of Staff.

  “Exactly. On the other hand if they run and decide to hide out in the dark between the stars and engage in hit and run tactics it could be years before we stamp them out,” said the Senator.

  “Then I guess the only question is if the Little Admiral and his Fleet are really here,” said the Commodore.

  “His most recent flagship is here, as are most of the warships identified by the Reclamation Fleet. So if he’s not here already he’ll be arriving soon,” said the Senator with a smirk.

  “In the meantime he’ll need to get ready to eat some fighter strikes,” he added.

  The Commodore nodded.

  “New orders to the fleet: it’s time to advance. We’ll follow in on the heels of the fighters and finish this,” declared the Senator.

  Unnoticed by the majority of the Glorious Fleet of Liberation, after the Imperial forces joined the Glorious Fleet and set course to intercept the First Fleet of the Spineward Confederation, a courier on one side of the system jumped. It was joined minutes later by a damaged Cruiser that also point transferred out of the star system.

  In any military operation, redundancy was key.

  Chapter 53: It’s a Spalding! Part 2

  He was the very model of an upgraded space engineer.

  With the nine hundred strong Glorious Fleet of Liberation following closely behind the more than eight hundred Strike Fighters, things were looking bad for the Spineward Sectors Fleet.

  Recognizing the inevitable, the First Fleet of the Spineward Confederation—some two hundred and twelve warships strong—turned to face the Imperials. Shaking out into battle formation, the Spineward Sectors forces were ready to give their enemies the fight of their lives.

  Meanwhile, less than twenty five light years from Black Purgatory, in a star system almost nobody had ever heard about and with nothing more than a numerical designation to tell you where it was on a star map, a pair of starships had just entered the system.

  “Commander Spalding, we’re getting a data dump from the system courier. Operation Surprise is a go. I say again: the Grand Admiral has given us the green light. I’m downloading the jump coordinates and latest tactical plot now,” said ship’s First Officer.

  “I just
want you to remember there’s only one captain aboard this ship—and it ain't you, bucky-boy-o,” warned Commander Spalding.

  “Sir you’re wasting time. The Admiral is counting on us,” reminded the First Officer.

  “Hmph!” Spalding used a hand to swipe back his still-growing new 'do atop his head and then nodded, “notify the Droids immediately. We jump as soon as Navigation crunches the numbers.”

  “Aye aye, Commander,” said the First Officer.

  After the First Officer turned away to notify the hard-headed machines, and the Navigator started running the calculations, the old engineer snuck off the Captain’s chair and sidled over to check on the bridge’s Engineering station.

  Looking up with surprise, the Engineering watch stander looked up at the old Engineer. “What have ye got?” the Chief Engineer asked, leaning over the younger man’s shoulder and punching up the power regulation screen for the jump spindles.

  “Sir, Engineering has everything under control,” said the Engineer.

  “Of course I have everything under control, lad,” Commander Spalding said, absentmindedly sifting through the data. He heaved a sigh of relief when it became clear the spindles were still fully charged and ready to go upon activation.

  Unlike the conventional system, which could only hold up to a half charge without committing to a hyperspace jump, the new system could point-transfer on less than a minute’s notice…well, assuming it didn’t go under another one of its mandatory repair and/or upgrade cycle.

  “Infernal machine,” he muttered, giving the side of the console a thump.

  “Are you sure you aren’t needed in the command chair, Sir?” suggested the Watch Stander.

  Spalding shot air out the side of his mouth.

  “Oh, pish on the command chair; it’s overrated anyway. A man would much rather be somewhere he can get his hands dirty fixing things,” Spalding opined.

  The other engineer released a sigh of frustration.

  “Now you make sure to monitor the charge and give her a good goose with the antimatter generators at the first sign she's giving us trouble or failing to hold a charge,” Spalding repeated for the tenth or twentieth time that day.

  “Yes, Commander,” the other man said dutifully.

  “And furthermore—” he started only to be cut off.

  “Captain Spalding! The Droids are saying they need more time before we jump,” said the First Officer, hurrying over to the Engineering station. He started with surprise and then frowned, “Sir, you’re needed in the captain’s chair.”

  “There’s vital work needed here to keep everything goin' as planned—” Spalding immediately defended himself, and then stopped. “What do you mean by the droids are saying we need to wait to jump?!”

  “They say they need time to regulate the gas keeping the Bugs asleep and evacuate before we point transfer,” said the Captain.

  Spalding glowered thunderously.

  “It’s that Omega 9 again, isn’t it,” he snorted angrily.

  “How did you know?”

  “That piker’s been trying to slow down the entire work shift since the day he came aboard the project,” said the old Engineer before stomping over to the command chair.

  “Sir?” asked the XO.

  “Put him on the line.”

  “Sir!” said the First Officer.

  Within seconds the Droid appeared.

  “What’s this about some kind of hold up you’re trying to back-engineer into the project, Omega-9?” Spalding demanded.

  “My name is Mad Scientist Omega 9, and I’m not 'back-engineering' anything. I told you back when you first proposed this insanity that if you insisted on going forward with it the only safe way to run the experiment was to allow us to regulate the sleeping gas and then exit the organic constructs before leaving this star system.”

  “And I told you to have everything ready to go the moment we got word, which I’ve done told you about, and then you were to hop into those landers I provided and hightail it out of there,” Spalding reminded the Droid.

  “And miss potentially vital scientific data. I don’t think so. Which is exactly what I told you at the time,” shot back the Droid. “Besides, as I already told you, the USA has already provided us with transport vessels infinitely superior to your unwieldy third generation tech. Sometimes I wonder at the lack of mental acuity and reasoning ability of aging human neuro-chemistry.”

  “Listen up, you pea brain. You mind might not be big enough for a full personality matrix after you remove your research algorithms, so listen up: get out of there and into your lander—pronto—or I won’t be held responsible for the results!” Spalding bellowed.

  “Pea brain? I always knew you for a mechanophobe; it’s gratifying to see my hypothesis that you were a closet bigot borne out by events,” hooted the Droid triumphaltly.

  “Truth be told I’m a mechanophile not a mechanophobe. The sad truth is that it's only when it comes to you did I ever doubt the sentience or right of a Droid or living cybernetic organism to self-determination, and let me tell you brother: you’ve taught me to doubt,” said the old engineer.

  “I’m not your brother. I am Mad Scientist Omega 9 on a United Sentience sponsored research project as the designated project director,” screeched the Droid.

  “Well the project’s terminated. So leave now or forever hold yer peace,” Spalding declared, cutting the transmission.

  He turned to the First Officer.

  “Notify every Droid in that Bug swarm, not just Omega 9, that it’s time to get out and get out now. We jump on schedule,” said the old Engineer.

  “Aye aye, Sir,” said the XO.

  “How long until the jump?” asked Spalding.

  “We’re beginning the activation sequence now,” said the First Officer after looking over at the navigation console.

  “May the Sweet Saint have mercy on their electronic souls,” Spalding said after a moment. It was too late for the droid malingerers, looked like they were jumping into a potential battle situation whether they liked it or not, “make sure our ships don’t fire on any Droid shuttles after we jump.”

  “On it, Sir,” nodded the First Officer passing the order.

  “Alrighty then. Looks like there’s nothing left to do but charge HPC put the ship to battle stations and prepare the crew for the fight of their lives,” said the old Engineer.

  “We’re ready, Sir,” the XO said confidently.

  “We are,” agreed Spalding, “let’s just hope the Empire’s not. Notify the Jumble Carriers: I want their gunboats launched into cold space immediately and then remind the Battleships they are to keep formation on us and cover our flanks no matter what.”

  “I’ll remind them, but everyone knows the drill,” said the First Officer.

  “Murphy knows what the Admiral’s been up to ever since he stationed us out here in this miserable excuse for a star system. For all we know the fleet could be half destroyed,” said the Commander. He shook his head, “Nope, it’s all on us now.”

  Two minutes later they jumped.

  One Super Battleship, five regular Battleships, two former Battleships re-purposed into Carriers...

  And one armada of significantly oversized Bug ships.

  The Droids, true to their previously stated intentions, waited outside the jump spindles; their intentions were to jump to Black Purgatory the conventional way. Hopefully after the battle was already decided one way or the other.

  Chapter 54: The Surprise!

  Spalding’s Surprise Party

  1 Super Battleship, Lucky Clover 2.0

  5 Battleships

  2 Jumble Carriers (364 Boat Capacity)

  4 Cruisers

  8 Destroyers

  Total: 20 warships

  Tracto’s Former Orbital Defenses transferred to Black Purgatory via Jump Spindles

  150 Orbital Turrets

  600 Popup Missile Launchers

  2200 Smart Mines

  Uncatagoriz
ed Assets

  1 Small Planetoid

  Grand Total: 20 warships and various fixed defensive assets

  Space twisted and crew members all over the bridge threw up.

  The First Officer blinked. One moment the old Engineer had been sitting in his captain’s chair and one blink later he was gone. Instinctively, the XO’s eyes shot over to the engineering console and there was one Terrance P. Spalding, Captain of the Lucky Clover 2.0.

  The First Officer rubbed his eyes.

  “Sir, you have to get back in your chair!” protested the First Officer.

  “Sensors, get me a picture! Communications, activate the jammers,” snapped Spalding, ignoring his second in command. “Tactical, where are they?”

  Then the screen populated in all its glory, and it turned out they were exactly where they were supposed to be.

  “Captain Spalding,” screamed an Assistant Tactical Officer, “I’m reading Imperial starships starward, Old Confederation starships to port and to starboard and hundreds of Imperial space fighters to our stern!”

  It took a moment for the sensors to update the holo-plot, and when they did multiple people on the bridge sucked in breaths.

  “We jumped into the star system right in front of the Glorious Fleet!” exclaimed the First Officer.

  “This is what we call a 'target rich environment,' people,” Spalding said, his eyes lighting up as he plopped himself into the command chair. “Tactical, find that Command Carrier! Gunnery, be ready for fighters to the rear and anything up to and including Battleships to our port and starboard. Engineering, bring our antimatter power plants up to full power and start supercharging our battery banks—and Weapons: until we find that Carrier I want the HPC to start laying waste to Imperial Battleships as fast as it can cycle. Fire at will!” the old engineer finished excitedly.