"We aren’t taking this to a court of law Cody."
"No, but stating at this point that the Nameless were definitely involved would have consequences."
"People keep accusing the fleet of being trigger happy, but if we tell our captains and diplomats that the Nameless have committed genocide, it will colour their actions in the event of a second encounter. But the information supplied by Harbinger doesn’t give us a smoking gun so to speak. The contact between the Centaurs and Nameless could just be a coincidence." Lewis said.
Callahan looked at him with surprise.
"I didn’t think you’d be a man who believed in coincidence Paul."
"And broadly speaking Mister Secretary, you’d be right." Lewis shrugged. "But if you can rule everything else out, then coincidence may be all you have left. We aren’t in that position Put simply we don’t have enough information to support any kind of solid conclusion."
"I wonder could this have been war," Naismith asked, "between the Centaurs and the Nameless?"
"If it was, it was one sided." Lewis replied. "Looks like the Centaurs were roughly at the same level we were at the start of the Contact War."
"Well they came off a lot worse if it was war." Callahan said sourly before glancing at Lewis. "What about that ship? It was primitive but relatively lightly damaged. Given how damaged Mississippi was…"
"Doesn’t prove anything." Lewis replied with a shrug. "No saying it was even fired upon by weapons of equal power to those used against Mississippi. Also the nature of the Centaur ship meant if they managed to turn their stern towards incoming fire, the pusher-plate would simply laugh at any conventional explosive. It looks like what took them out was something clipping the edge of the plate."
"Alright, returning to the planet. If someone was determined to commit genocide why go to the trouble of setting up extermination camp? Why not simply scorch the planet from orbit?"
"Well, we can make a reasonable guess on that subject." Wingate said. "Planets capable of supporting life are too rare to destroy. A large scale nuclear or kinetic bombardment would destroy a planet’s biosphere."
"But there was a bombardment." Callahan countered.
"Which was apparently focused against a number of major cities. These, in all likelihood, were the seats of the major governments; their destruction would have decapitated those administrations. Once those were gone any resistance was likely disjointed and ineffective. That left the liquidation of the population which presented its own problems, if they wanted the planet to be useable afterwards." Lewis’s voice was unemotional. "The long term problems of Nuclear weapons are obvious. Biological warfare requires a pretty sophisticated understanding of the target species, plus anything powerful enough to wipe out a race might well cross the species barrier and decimate the biosphere. Finally chemical warfare will require impractical quantities for even high density areas, such as cities. Quite simply if you want to wipe out a race death camps are the most efficient way to do it." Lewis sighed. "The poor bastards probably had their heads in the noose before they even knew what was happening."
Callahan shuddered.
"If someone wanted the planet why did they abandon it after wiping out the Centaurs?" Naismith wondered out loud.
Wingate shrugged.
"Perhaps they found something not to their liking."
"Or perhaps their waiting." Added Lewis. "Don’t need the planet now, but might do in the future. In that situation better to wipe out the population when they don’t really have the means to fight back." Lewis paused to shrug his shoulders. "Cissies don’t get to the top of the evolutionary heap."
"Christ Admiral, you have a cynical mind." Callahan said in a tone of faint awe.
"Thank you, sir." Lewis replied calmly.
There was a sudden crackle as the PA system activated.
"Attention all guests. Attention all guests. Can you please make your way to the main observation lounge. The launch will begin in twenty minutes.”
"Okay we’re running out of time. Enough of the theorising, which has… well been disturbing as hell, what line are we going to take with the Council." Callahan asked.
"There are three main possibilities. First, that there is no connection with the contact between these two races and the extermination of the Centaurs. That somehow the extermination was entirely internal. This seems unlikely but we can’t yet rule it out." Wingate outlined. "The second is that the Centaurs somehow provoked the Nameless into destroying them. This seems at the moment the most likely scenario. The third is that the Nameless are inherently hostile, they perceived the Centaurs as a threat or liquidated them to provide living space. Not my favourite option, but a real possibility."
"That last one seems a bit unlikely; people generally need a good reason to go to war." Callahan said.
The three officers looked unconvinced.
"Well there are also a few things we can be starting on. Firstly send Harbinger back out, and see if we can release a second scout. Secondly, put in a request to Science Fleet to send one of their ships out there for a more in-depth investigation. Finally I feel we now need to formalize war plans for combat against the Nameless." Wingate replied.
"That last point isn’t going to be an easy sell to the Council." Callahan said in a dubious voice.
"But a necessary one Daniel. We’ve been informally studying how we would fight them since Mississippi. But the time has come to formalize those arrangement." Said Wingate with a slight shrug. "Equally I have no intention of making the existence of those plans public."
"We will also want to examine our ship design contingency plans." Lewis added. "Simulations to date have indicated that the Luna class flak cruisers would fair best against the Nameless. But at present there are only six of them on strength. I’d like plans to be drawn up that would allow us to complete our stock cruiser hulls as flak ships."
"That will require a redirection of funds." Naismith warned.
"Well on that point, Cody if your office writes up the request I’ll sign off on it."
The sound of voices came from the access way.
"Alright, we’re out of time. Anyone have anything else?" Callahan asked.
"Just one small thing Paul. I want you to stick around this summer. The summer exercises will probably overlap with the Council meeting on this issue, so I want you to brief Han Fengzi on the planned manoeuvers."
Lewis started to object.
"I’m sorry Paul I’m going to need you around, not light years away."
"Can I at least keep my new flagship?" He asked sourly.
"She’ll probably still be working up at that stage, so yes."
"Is this launch private, or can anyone come?"
They all turned towards the voice. It was Callahan’s wife, drifting ungracefully towards them.
"Hello Suzie." Callahan replied as he fielded her. "I thought you were going to leave your grand entrance to the last moment?"
"Yes I was planning to," she replied cheerfully, "but after a long conversation with a nice young officer I was convinced this wasn’t the time to be fashionably late."
"Not to mention you flounder like a beached whale in zero-G." Callahan replied with a big smile on his face.
"Oh you will pay for that one sunshine." She said punching his arm playfully, and sending herself spiraling away.
Other guests were pulling themselves into the lounge, the group took this as a signal to break up the meeting and drift apart.
Lewis pushed himself over to one of the view ports where he was able to watch the entire chamber and would have a good view of the launch. A few people nodded to him, but the tall serious Admiral tended not to be most peoples first choice of conversation partner. For his part Lewis allowed his thoughts to drift.
‘People generally need a good reason to go to war’ it was a line of reasoning he’d heard a lot in the last few months. Yet to Lewis it was a deeply flawed line of thought. It ignored that multiple human cultures had gone to war, simp
ly because they could. In its first three decades in space humanity had been lucky; its galactic neighbours thus far encountered had either been friendly or weak enough in strength or spirit to face down. But to Lewis the Nameless already felt different, more dangerous and more implacable, like a people who wouldn’t shy away from conflict, people who would willingly bleed to achieve their aims.
Lewis returned to reality as he belatedly realised that the speeches had not only started but were nearly over. A junior officer carefully guided Suzie Callahan forward to the podium and Lewis started paying attention again.
"…my privilege to launch this, the first of a new class of battleships." She pressed the button on the console in front of her. "I name this ship Warspite. God bless all who serve on her!"
The bottle fired from its launcher with a puff of gas and shattered against the battleship’s side. A beautiful spray of glass and frozen Champagne crystals glittered as right on cue the Sun came out from behind Earth lighting up the dock revealing Warspite in all her formidable glory. In the crowded lounge there was a deafening cheer as astern the engines pulsed for a moment and the ship started to slide slowly forward out of the dock and into the waiting stars. As she cleared the dock there was a rippling flash as a waiting cruiser saluted Battlefleet’s newest ship.
Chapter Five
Baden
11th July 2066
The asteroid was by the standards of its kind, vast, approximately the size of France. Its orbit, nearly nine light hours away from the local star, was such that one side remained eternally, if weakly, sunlit, while the other remained in darkness. Mostly composed of heavy elements, the asteroid projected a mass shadow very nearly a light second deep. Had it been situated in Earth’s solar system the harvesting of its mineral wealth would probably have been well advanced, but instead orbited at the very edge of the star system called Fortune. Even in this remote location commercial enterprise might have sought it out, and used it to support the various national colonies on the planet of Landfall, the Earth-like planet located deeper inside the system. But another group had already staked its claim and put it to a very different use.
On the dark side of the asteroid there was a massive fifty kilometre wide crater. At some point, many millennia ago, something had struck the asteroid nearly destroying it. But what had been a symbol of its near brush with oblivion was now the asteroids salvation.
Mounted in the dead centre of the crater, was a three and half kilometre long cylinder style centrifuge. This formed the accommodation and administrative heart of the base. Surrounding the centrifuge was a mass of structures, storage bays, repair docks both free standing and cut directly into the rock plus weapon emplacements and communication arrays. The dock teemed with activity, mostly military vessels of one sort or another but a few civilian ships also had places at the mooring points.
This was Baden Base the largest, most important of Battlefleet’s installations outside Earth’s solar system. It was also the home to the Third Fleet and in one quiet corner lay Harbinger.
In his cabin Captain Flores sat in his chair sipping from a mug of coffee while staring out the window at the busy dockyard. The window wasn’t real, it was a hologram image projected against the bulkhead. These ‘window’ holograms were a common feature on starships; they were useful for preventing cabin-fever in ship crews. Normally Flores found the view relaxing, but on this occasion it wasn’t helping and he knew why. He had in his immediate future two interviews, one good, one bad.
Three days ago Harbinger had returned from her second tour out beyond Landfall. Unlike their first tour there had been no profound discovery, just a slow and tiring grind that wore them all down. Tempers had started to fray as the cramped confines started to get to people. Flores was almost grateful when an engineering problem forced them to head back a week earlier than originally planned. The civilian compliment had immediately been packed off to Landfall for some R and R. None of the colonies were exactly tourist destinations but it gave them the opportunity to stretch their legs and breath air that hadn’t been through the air recyclers a thousand times.
It had also brought forward a decision.
There was a tap at his door.
"Come in." He called out as he turned away from the window. "Commander Willis, please sit down."
A look of concern flashed across the Commanders face before she pulled up a chair. Flores hesitated as they looked across the desk at each other, wondering how to start, after a moment he decided on the formal approach.
"Commander, I regret to inform you that five days ago I sent a message via FTL transmission to fleet headquarters requesting a new commander. I received a reply this morning stating that they were granting my request and giving me permission to relieve you. Your replacement should arrive via courier within the week."
Shock was obvious on her face and for several second she made no reply.
"Am I to remain on duty for the next week?" There was a slight catch in her voice but on the whole it remained remarkably even.
"No. I don’t believe it would be… useful, for either of us. Your duties here will be temporarily transferred with immediate effect to Lieutenant Humber. There is a personnel transport leaving Baden tomorrow morning, I have arranged with dock control that you will have a place on it."
"May I ask why I am being relieved?"
"Yes you can, in fact I want to answer that in detail." Flores sighed and leaned back in his chair. "As a technical officer you are beyond reproach; in fact you’re probably the best I’ve had serve under me. As a tactical officer you’re not quite as strong but still more than acceptable. The problem I am having is your ability to deal with your subordinates. You’re cold with people and worst you’re the source of friction, not the solution to it."
"You’re referring to my disagreements with the civilian complement." She asked. A month into their second tour there had been a raging argument between Willis and a member of the diplomatic team. Flores had never quite got to the bottom of what the row was about, he suspected the answer was very little but with tempers already short it had escalated into a major and very public shouting match.
"Only in part Commander. In truth I don’t believe you work well even with fleet personnel."
"With respect, sir but I disagree."
"Really? What’s Lieutenant Gleffen’s hobby?"
Willis opened her mouth to reply, then hesitated, obviously wrong footed by the question.
Flores waited several seconds while Willis obviously racked her memory.
"It’s restoring motorbikes. I can barely get her to shut up about it, but you’ve been aboard for the best part of six months and you don’t know."
"I felt it was best to maintain professional distance."
"That works up to a point. But you don’t know your fellow officers and they don’t know you." He leaned forward resting his elbows on the desk. "Faith, when you accepted the rank of Commander, you reached a stage in your career where knowing the technology is less important than the ability to manage and know the people you command. This is something your previous superiors should have pulled you up on, and I’m sorry they didn’t"
"I see." The Commander’s voice was flat and unemotional. "Do I have permission to leave?"
Flores wished she hadn’t asked that, it made it easy to be a coward.
"No, there is one final point Commander. I’m sorry I didn’t send you back to Earth at the end of our first tour. You were brought in as a temporary replacement, so there would have been no questions asked if I had sought a permanent replacement after the first tour. Unfortunately by keeping you for a second tour I now have to provide a reason for relieving you."
Willis’s face had been expressionless but now open concern became apparent.
"Commander Willis, I’ve made a recommendation to fleet that you remain in grade… for the foreseeable future."
"Sir… such a recommendation will- will mean I will probably never achieve command status."
> "That is a possibility Commander, and if it is I am sorry but I owe a duty to the fleet. If however, you can bring your personnel management skills up to standard there is no reason why you might not achieve command. But not yet."
Chief Coxswain Benson waited outside the Captain’s cabin waiting for his interview with the skipper. The interview was mostly a formality but Benson was pleased to be seen off by an officer he respected. He stiffened as the cabin door opened and Commander Willis stepped out. Benson did a double take at the Commander, normally so impassive, she looked shell shocked.
"Commander are you all right?" He asked hesitantly.
"Yes… yes. I’m fine." She said quietly. "The Captain will see you now." She looked around distractedly.
"Are you sure you’re all right Ma’am?"
"I’m fine." She snapped as for a moment her eyes flashed angrily. "You’re just not the only one being reassigned today." She added more calmly.
"Oh I hadn’t heard, may I ask where to?"
Willis smiled bitterly.
"Oblivion Cox. Good luck." She turned and walked off without a further word.
There was another tap at his door.
"Come in." Flores called then smiled as Benson came in and went to attention.
"At ease Cox. I’ll keep this quick since I know the petty officers mess is planning to wave you off." He said with a smile. "You’ve been aboard since our first commissioning, that’s what two years now?"
"Two years, three months, sir."
"Has it been so bad that you’ve been counting?"
"No, sir. I’ve enjoyed serving with you; I feel I’ve developed a lot under your command." Benson replied quickly
Flores grinned with honest amusement.
"I was only joking Cox. I’m sure you’re looking forward to the extra rank."
"And the extra pay, sir."
"I’m sure you are. I already have your next assignment; for once fleet personnel has been quick off the mark with a reassignment." Flores turned his computer screen to face Benson. "You are to become the Bosun aboard the flak cruiser Deimos. She’s attached to Third Fleet so you should be able to join her in a day or two. Once the PO mess have finished with you I’ve arranged for a temporary bunk on Baden. You can have a couple of days liberty before the start of your new posting." Flores offered his hand. "Hope to see you again Coxswain, no, Bosun Benson."
The Nameless War Page 10