“No, ma’am. Of course, Admiral Suttler’s ships are the most likely to spot them first.”
Of course they are, thought the scout force commander. If she had had her way, those would be the only ships heading in. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the call that the Emperor and his staff had made. If they didn’t spring the trap then the Cacas would continue to kill the aliens on that planet, rounding them up and slaughtering a million a day. They could have killed more, in a more efficient manner. That wasn’t the point, as they wanted the humans to come, and a dead population was not bait.
She couldn’t have cared less for the Maurids, despite the help they were giving her Empire. From what she understood they were a nasty piece of work, who had committed numerous atrocities in the name of the Caca Emperor. She shook her head. It was doubtful that these particular Maurids had anything to do with those incidents. These were workers and families, not security agents. And that was a living world they were on, one whose distinctive genome would be lost to the universe if that planet were sterilized.
“Send to all ships,” she finally said, looking up from the small screen she had been studying. “Stay alert. It looks like the enemy is sitting in front of us, and that may be all they have. But it doesn’t pay to assume anything. All units are to act as if this is a standard enemy system defense we are heading into.”
Actually that might be true, though she didn’t think the enemy would waste any more ships than they had to in order to bait the trap. If there was a trap.
* * *
“And how go the executions, General?” asked the Emperor, looking at the face of the male on the holo. They had deployed two wormholes to the system, with a third in the observation force sitting in normal space a couple of light weeks beyond the barrier. While Jressratta didn’t like the idea of sacrificing any of the precious wormholes, never in sufficient supply for his side, not like those of the damned humans, he liked the idea of being in the loop even more.
“The bastards are fighting back, Supreme Lord,” said the senior officer on Kallfer, the fur on his face matted with sweat. “These aren’t just your ordinary slaves. They are all warriors by tradition, and they fight like such. I’m sure all of my people will be glad when this is over.”
Maybe not as glad as you think, fool, thought the Emperor. Ground troops were cheap, and if the sacrifice of these could lure more of the enemy’s expensive warships, hopefully with a number of wormholes, into the kill zone, he would spend their lives without any qualms.
“Show me an execution, General. I want to see one for myself.” He was starting to feel the tension of the wait, and thought that maybe the spectacle of traitors being killed might help relieve some of it.
With a grunt the image of the officer left the holo, replaced by a large square surrounded by low buildings of alien design. Hundreds of partial bodies lay along the side of the square. Another hundred Maurids were lined up against a wall showing the scorch marks of particle beam fire. About half were adults, the rest children, cowering at the feet of their parents. The adults snarled at their captors, and if they hadn’t had all of their limbs restrained, the Emperor was sure they would be charging the Ca’cadasans, attacking before they allowed themselves and their offspring to be slaughtered.
“These were the ones we were able to capture, Supreme Lord,” said the ground force commander. “We have to kill three for every one we capture. And we only get those we can stun before they close with us.”
The Emperor grunted. He knew the Maurids were not like their other slaves. The beings were not cowed like the others. That was an unfortunate result of the way the Empire had treated them. He thought it would have been better if they had been treated the same as the rest, their spirits broken. He didn’t consider that they might have fought back before they allowed that to happen, and the Empire might have been deprived of its best intelligence agents. Of course, it had still ended up that way, and it had hurt the Empire in ways they still couldn’t calculate.
The Caca soldiers stood in a line on the holos, drawing their rifles to an upper shoulder and aiming, awaiting the command. The Emperor leaned forward in his chair, anticipating the slaughter, the revenge on the traitorous creatures. The restraints fell away from the Maurids at the command sent from the firing squad commander. Restraints were in short supply, and they would be needed again.
The buzzing sound of particle beams filled the air, and the Emperor felt his excitement peak. But the beams didn’t come from the weapons of the soldiers, as angry red lines touched a dozen of the members of the firing squad. Red steam erupted and the males fell to the ground, the rest crouching and trying to find cover. The Emperor stared in shock as the guerillas struck before his sight.
The victims of the firing squad charged, even the young ones flying across the ground with frightening speed. Most of the Ca’cadasans were in battle armor, and the attacks on them accomplished nothing, though it allowed some of those waiting their turn for execution to get away, the few with the ability disabling the restraints from the others. The Ca’cadasans not in armor were something else entirely, and they went down under a flurry of razor sharp claws. Blood spurted, and more than a dozen of the males died under the claws of those they were about to murder.
More particle beams came in, striking at those in armor, dropping several to the ground. A full blown firefight erupted, the Maurids hidden and under cover while the Cacas tried their best to maneuver to safety.
“Burn down their neighborhoods, General,” ordered the flustered Emperor. He had been looking forward to seeing his enemies killed, and instead had been treated to a view of effective resistance. “I want the million a day killed, but if you happen to get more of them, so be it. Hit them from the air and from space.”
At the moment he didn’t care that everyone in the system was doomed anyway. In his rage he wanted as many slaughtered before the event as possible. That would cause more suffering among the Maurid people of the planet, until it was suddenly ended by the photon storm.
The holo died, and the Emperor turned an angry glare to his staff. “Who disconnected the com. I wasn’t finished with the general.”
“We thought you might rather have a look at the enemy force coming into the system, Supreme Lord,” said the Chief of Staff, gesturing to a larger holo over the center of the table.
“Yes,” said the easily distractible Emperor, turning his attention to the view of a thousand or more human warships, sailing into his trap. Lured by their sense of obligation to an ally. And about to pay the price for that sense.
“It looks as if they are split into several forces,” narrated the Chief of Staff, pointing to the formations. “This would be their scout force, splitting off smaller packets to check out the other bodies of the system, while the central force moves straight in toward the planet.”
“Why would they be sending other forces out to the asteroids and gas giants?” asked the confused Emperor, the military genius.
“They have to make sure that we’re not setting up a conventional trap,” explained one of the other admirals. “Supreme Lord,” he added hastily as the Emperor turned a venomous glance his way.
“And why aren’t they bombarding from a distance?”
“They don’t want to hit the planet, Supreme Lord. Our ships are all too close. If they send in the kind of missile storms we’re used to seeing, the odds are that one or more will miss a target and plow into the planet at relativistic speeds.”
“They are all fools, aren’t they?” said the Emperor, now in a celebratory mood in anticipation of seeing the enemy fleet destroyed. Forgotten completely was the spectacle of his troops slaughtered by the guerillas. “They’re like children who can’t deal with the reality of the universe.”
“Yes, Supreme Lord,” said a couple of the staff in unison. The high ranking officers all shot glances to each other, avoiding the eyes of their ruler. They all had the same thought. If the humans were such fools, why was the Empire having so man
y problems fighting them?
Chapter Fifteen
I have no religion, and at times I wish all religions at the bottom of the sea. He is a weak ruler who needs religion to uphold his government; it is as if he would catch his people in a trap. Mustafa Kemal Ataturk
JULY 1ST, 1004. KALLFER.
“Damn, but I wish we could just go ahead and hit them from a distance and stay out of this system,” said Admiral Conrad Alvera, the overall commander of the force now forging into the system, looking at the supreme battle force commander on the com holo.
“Me too, Admiral,” said Len, nodding. “Unfortunately, they’re crowding too close to the planet for that to work. Any storm we send in dense enough to take them out will hit that world, doing the Caca’s job for them.”
Alvera held his tongue. He realized how the Emperor felt about this mission, and revealing how he really felt about the Maurids would do little to endear himself to his monarch. And it might affect his chances of promotion, not the most important thing on his mind at the moment. Still, it was best to not burn any bridges through an inopportune comment.
Admiral Alvera glanced over at the plot, taking in his force as it boosted into the system. The line of no return was obvious on the plot, the point where they were committed to going into the system at least as far as the living world. He wished he had a line that showed him how far in they would have to be for their assured destruction, mainly so he could avoid that mark. Unfortunately, he had no orders to avoid that. And he thought a visible line on the plot would just increase the tension among his people as they watched the fleet creep toward it and beyond.
His force consisted of a hundred and fifty battleships, including one superbattleship, the flagship, but none of the newest class of super heavy ships. Two hundred and ninety-two cruisers and five hundred and sixty-six destroyers rounded out the force. Just over a thousand ships, fully crewed, loaded with weapons, many with wormholes. If the Caca fleet around the planet had been at full capability it would be a close battle, but no one expected that force to be fully manned. If they were, Alvera might find himself in a fight he couldn’t win. He was counting on the several hundred Alcubierre fighters limpeted to the hulls of his ships to redress the situation if it came to that. That and the eighty wormholes he carried with him, all able to send out streams of ultra-fast moving missiles. And if worst came to worst the fighters could make a run out of the system at faster than light, staying ahead of the raging wave of star fury, saving their crews. He couldn’t say the same for his other ships or crews. They wouldn’t be able to get up to faster than light, and the photon wave would overtake them within minutes of the stellar event.
There were other ships in his force as well. Seventy freighters were along, their grabbers set to duplicate that of a much smaller destroyer. A score of transports accompanied the battle force. The transports and logistics ships were empty of their normal cargo and troops, and were operating with minimal crew. Still, it wouldn’t be much comfort to those crews that only the minimal personnel had been sacrificed for the chance of saving some aliens that most wouldn’t give a good damn about.
And, of course, the sixty-four ships of Admiral Mei’s scout force. All of the warships had full crews, including complete Marine contingents. Otherwise they might not be combat effective, and losing them to missiles would mean much the same to those who died.
“Maybe you should get some rest, Admiral,” said the flag captain, standing to the side of his commander’s chair.
“I could pretend,” said Alvera, “but we both know that I won’t be sleeping until this thing is over.”
“We have some movement from the enemy fleet, sir,” called out the Fleet Tactical Officer.
“What do you think they’re up to, Tac?”
The tac officer was silent for some moments, studying the holo and thinking. “As far as I can tell, nothing, sir. It appears to be random movements among their vessels, some moving out of orbit, others moving in. Just putting out grabber emissions. Maybe to keep our interest on the way in.”
That made as much sense as anything else the Cacas were doing. The Cacas were not the most subtle of creatures at the best of times, and this trap had all the hallmarks of a clumsy effort. Despite that it was serving its purpose, drawing the humans in.
“Admiral Alvera,” came a familiar voice as another com holo came to life in the air.
What the hell does he want now, thought the admiral, resenting the backseat command he had to put up with. “Your Majesty.”
“Intelligence is warning that the Cacas might have some major weapons in orbit to use against the planet.”
Of course they do, thought the admiral, wondering why he was being bothered with information like that. They would have gigaton warheads for their missiles, if nothing else. Of course, if the Emperor wanted to tell him something, he had no choice but to listen.
“We’re thinking they might try to bombard the planet if they fail to set off the star. Be prepared to take out those ships from close in if it comes to that.”
“Of course,” said the admiral, nodding, still wondering why the young idiot was bothering him with things he already knew. It might not be possible to stop the enemy from bombarding the planet, no matter what he did. He’s terrified this is going to fail, thought the admiral. If it did, the admiral and all of his people wouldn’t have to worry about it, while the Emperor would bear the burden of his decision for the rest of his life.
Duty is heavier than a mountain; death is lighter than a feather, thought the admiral, one of his favorite quotes from his history lessons at the academy. The unknown Japanese officer who had first said that had struck a cord with the then young ensign. Duty meant worry, for self and others, while death meant the cessation of all concerns. Still, all things considered, he would rather have the weight of the mountain on him that the feather lightness of death. That the Emperor would have that mountain on him was about the only recompense he might gain on this mission.
“The enemy are releasing missiles, sir,” called out the tactical officer, looking back. “Estimating over a thousand, on a heading for the lead scout force.”
“Well, we expected it,” said the admiral, hoping that Mei would have enough defensive firepower to ward her force.
* * *
“Why are we firing at them?” asked the Emperor, leaning forward in his chair.
“We have to make them think we are going to defend the system, Supreme Lord,” answered the Chief of Staff. “Otherwise, they might smell a trap and vector out.”
The Emperor gave a head motion of acknowledgment, though he still wasn’t sure of the reasoning. The ships in orbit around and near the planet were not fully functional warships. Even the real warships had given up about half of their grabber capacity and electromagnetic projectors, as well as every particle beam weapon. They carried at most three full volleys of weapons. The majority of the ships were the commercial variety that had been made up to look like warships with added plating of thin metal. As long as they only maneuvered close to the planet and didn’t push it, the deception should work. And as long as the enemy didn’t hit them with a missile storm. Both of those events would show that this was a paper fleet, a sacrificial offering to lure in the human ships without offering too much of the Ca’cadasan fleet for destruction. There was only one fully functional super battleship in the lineup, taking on the task of simulating the com traffic of a fleet. The other three superbattleships, seven supercruisers and dozen or so scouts were at about fifty percent capacity, with half of their normal crews.
As backup there were some hundred missile pods in orbital defense sats, some limpeted to hulls, others in orbit. Cheap and effective for planetary defense, they were too vulnerable to handle an attack, and would have to be used before they came under enemy fire. Still, they gave the Ca’cadasan fleet over five thousand more capital ship missiles, hopefully enough to make the humans think they were facing an actual fleet.
“Too bad the
humans aren’t sending in more ships,” said Jresstratta, staring at the plot, ignoring the people around him.
“We would have needed an even larger deception force to lure in more, Supreme Lord,” said one of the other admirals. “We wouldn’t have been able to spring the trap for some additional weeks.”
“And the second part of this exercise was to show the rest of the Empire, the slaves, their fate if they betrayed us,” said General Hafftralas, bowing his head. “It was most important to get that message across quickly, wasn’t it?”
“Of course it was,” growled the Emperor. “Don’t patronize me, General. I am not a child. But it’s even more important to hurt the humans. To let them know that they can’t operate in our space without the risk of total destruction.”
“It will cause them pause, Supreme Lord,” said Supreme Admiral Kelgarasse, the chief of staff. “But it will not stop them. I fear they will eventually resort to long range bombardment to take out our systems, no matter the cost to planets.”
“Then why in all the hells did we resort to this?” screamed the Emperor, pointing at the holo.
“It was the best we could come up with at this time,” said the Chief of Staff in a reasonable tone. “We can only do so much.”
“You can do what I ask of you,” yelled Jresstratta, slamming two fists onto the table. “I am the Emperor, and you are sworn to follow my orders. And I order you to stop the humans.”
“Perhaps this plan will aid in that effort,” said one of the junior admirals, trying to calm the Emperor.
The Emperor stared at the male for a moment, until the admiral looked away. Still, Jresstratta smiled. After all, the trap had not yet been sprung, the losses hadn’t been totaled up, and the humans might take the lesson that he wanted to impart from this event. If they could be slowed, the enormous industrial might of the Ca’cadasan Empire might still come into play and defeat the humans. They were converting everything they could to military production, churning out more shipyards, anti-matter sats, even a few more wormhole production facilities. In another year they would double their shipbuilding capacity. If they could halt the humans on both fronts, eventually they could build up a reserve and counter-attack, recapturing the initiative and driving the enemy back into human space.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 14: Rebellion. Page 23