The Nameless War

by Edmond Barrett

  "That would be–"

  "The first of August madam president."

  "What do you need from us now Admiral?" Layland asked.

  "We’re already putting all Battlefleet ships and installations in this solar system onto a full alert. What we now need is authorization to go to full war footing, start calling up the reservists and reactivating the red fleet. Also authorisation to inform and liaise with our counterparts in Planetary Defence."

  President Clifton glanced left and right.

  "You have it Admiral, don’t wait for the paperwork, you’ll have it within an hour."

  "There is something else." Wingate said, "It goes outside our area of responsibility but I believe I must recommend it. My recommendation is that all nations mobilise their respective militaries."

  "Admiral that would be a big step. The activation of so many troops would raise world tensions and–"

  "I’m sure the world’s diplomats can manage it, madam president." Lewis interrupted abruptly. "The Centaurs were subject to orbital strikes. If we don’t mobilise and disperse our ground forces we are vulnerable to command and control decapitation."

  Clifton looked uncertain.

  "Admiral, you can’t be suggesting they will get into a position to bombard the planet!"

  "I believe in preparing for the worst."

  "I would agree with Paul, madam president. Battlefleet will be activating its secondary command sites."

  "Alright we’ll speak to the non-sitting Council members but that is ultimately a matter for individual national policy."

  Wingate nodded an acknowledgement.

  "When can we expect to receive more information?" Clifton continued.

  "If any courier ships got clear they will be arriving within the next twenty to thirty hours. Emergency Message Drones don’t have the range to make it to Earth from Baden so they’ll have to route through a junction station, so they could reach us perhaps two days from now. As for ships, we can’t expect to see any surviving combat and support elements of the Third Fleet reach us earlier than again the first of August. Hopefully Council members the situation will evolve and clarify over the next few days."

  ___________________________

  "…official sources have neither confirmed nor denied the complete destruction of the Battlefleet forces based close to the Landfall colony. However a spokesman for Battlefleet has requested all media outlet to publish a complete recall of all off duty and reservist fleet personnel. Sources inside the fleet have also suggested that Landfall may have been subject to nuclear strikes, but this remains unconfirmed. Experts are saying–"

  The old 2D television set clicked off. David Guinness walked around the small crowded living room his brow knotted in thought. He came to a halt in front of the mantelpiece. There were many pictures on the crowded surface, but one monopolized his attention. It was a picture of the crew of the Mississippi, digitally manipulated to look like they were all lined up on the cruisers outer hull. Rating Mary Pelikan had been a bit of a whiz with photo manipulation and loved crew photos. Before and after every tour she’d managed to chivvy everyone into position for a group shot. Once a suitable background had been inserted she sent a copy to every member of the crew. They were something of a joke to many since the layout was the same each time but Guinness found them interesting. With each one a few faces would change, sometimes a change in position due to promotion, other new faces. But in all of them Guinness was there, sitting two places to the right of the Skipper. Pelikan and Guinness had both served under Captain Crowe for nearly four years, so he had several photos. He stared at the picture for several minutes with a slight smile on his face. Those had been good times all right, pushing back the frontiers of known space. At least they’d been good until the day the frontier pushed back. There was no photograph of the Mississippi’s crew after their last tour; Pelikan was one of the ones who came back in a body bag.

  Even now, nearly a year on, it sickened him how the skipper had been treated. Crowe had been hung out to dry by both the ignorant and those who should have known better. In his own case, with only two months left to run until mandatory retirement, the fleet hadn’t been willing to give him a ship posting. Instead he was given a temporary training post dirtside; which put him in an excellent position to watch his plans for life after retirement disintegrate.

  Guinness turned sharply on his heels and walked into the bedroom. Quickly he packed a small rucksack of the bare essentials. Finally he pulled out a uniform, protected inside a dust jacket. Taking it out with almost reverent care, he admired it for a moment before pulling it on. It was a bit tight across the chest, well stomach really, if he wanted to be honest with himself. A bit of service would soon sort that out, he thought with a slight smile.

  Hitching the rucksack over his shoulder he headed for the front door. In the hall he paused; there on the wall was a picture frame. It contained half a dozen separate pictures, Christmas’s, birthdays and other happy times. Carefully David took the back off the frame and removed a picture of a middle aged woman smiling into the camera. He put it inside his wallet before putting the frame back together and returning it to its place.

  "I don’t know what the old fool is thinking now." Mrs Phillips said over her shoulder to her husband as she watched Guinness walk in the direction of the train station. "They’re hardly going to take him back. He’s more than sixty for heaven’s sake!"

  ___________________________

  "It’s hard to see this coming at a worse time. I wonder how much they know." Wingate admitted to Lewis as the two officers looked down into the fleets main control room. Below them was a huge holographic display of human space, also displayed was the position or estimated position of every Battlefleet ship. The icon for the Third Fleet was slowly blinking on and off.

  "What I would kill to know is how in hells name they got into firing range without warning." Lewis replied. "I know Camile’s a bit conservative but he is… well perhaps was, no idiot. I just hope more information turns up, I can feel that there is something we haven’t heard yet."

  In August of each year the fleet conducted its main annual exercises in the Dryad system. The purpose of these exercises was twofold, for aside from the training and wargames they were an active reminder to the Tample Star Nations that Dryad was a human world, and was going to remain that way. But now that show of strength might have fatal repercussions. The Home Fleet was now facing the prospect of action while seriously reduced, since much of its usual strength was now nearly a week away.

  A modern military plans constantly. Each new technique or technology is incorporated into the plans. As is each new analysis of the military, economic and political strengths and weaknesses of possible enemies and allies. But at their core any military’s plans rest upon certain assumptions.

  For over three decades Battlefleet’s core assumption had been that the Aèllr would be the enemy in the next war, as they had been in the last. While some of the Star Nations of the Tample were undoubtedly more hostile than the Aèllr, their relatively primitive warships kept their ambitions in check. The expectation in most of the fleets thinking had been based around the idea of the Aèllr fleet making a direct drive from the frontier towards Earth. The forces based at Dryad and Landfall would have been able to harass the Aèllr flanks and supply lines, or if necessary get back to Earth quicker than the Aèllr could get there from the frontier.

  With the attack on Baden, thirty years worth of planning had suddenly gone out the window. To be replaced by… by what?

  Eight hours after the transmission from Baden ended, Headquarters was only starting to recover its composure. Up in orbit the Home Fleet had spent much of the day at battle stations. With everyone’s nerve frayed they’d damn near blown away a transport ship when it made real space re-entry. The only thing that the day had clarified was that their right flank was too far away to assist, and their left was now swinging in the breeze.

  "If we’re really lucky the objective of th
eir campaign is the seizure of Landfall." Wingate said quietly.

  "That would certainly be the preferred option." Lewis agreed. "If they make a drive for Earth it’s going to be a race. The Second Fleet or the Nameless, it’s going to be too close to call who arrives first. Christ, I wish Landfall’s FTL wasn’t down"

  "The answers will come Paul."

  "Yes but what will those answers be?" Lewis replied. "Do we know if Illustrious and her escort had left Landfall before the attack began?" He asked a nearby staff officer without looking around.

  "No, sir, we’ve not heard anything." The officer replied. "If they stuck to the timetable they should have dropped their fighters and started back before the attack."

  Lewis’s fist slammed down on the desk with a force and suddenness than made everyone present jump.

  "Damn it lieutenant! I didn’t ask what’s supposed to have happen! I need to know what has!" Lewis roared at the startled officer before forcing himself to stop and take a deep breath. It was no use blaming staff officers for being unable to achieve the impossible.

  "What about the Dauntless?"

  "She jumped for Alpha Centauri only an hour before we got the first signal from Baden." The staff officer replied nervously. "Given the age of Dauntless’s engines they’ll be taking it very gently. They won’t make realspace re-entry for another two days."

  "Damn it." Lewis said, but quietly this time. "All right, thank you lieutenant. That will be all."

  Faster Than Light transmissions were one of the great miracles of modern science. Unlike so much of humanities interstellar technology, they had not simply inherited FTL transmitters from the Aèllr ship that had force landed on the west coast of Ireland. The captured ship had indicated that FTL transmissions were possible but not how. Humanity had only finally figured out the secret eight years ago, but they were still constrained in certain regards.

  Once a ship made the transit into jumpspace it was effectively severed from the universe. It could neither send nor receive radio or FTL transmissions from anyone other than ships sharing the same jump conduit. Communications would only be regained once the ship or ships returned to realspace. As the flag lieutenant had said Dauntless was old, a Contact War veteran in fact, and to be brutally honest clapped out. The only way she could make even the short hop to the Sun’s closest neighbour was by running at low thrust. Any faster and she’d simply slag her small heatsink long before reaching her destination. It all raised the question of whether they could make Dauntless and the various other isolated ships aware they were at war, before the war found them.

  Wingate hadn’t moved during Lewis’s outburst, now stood up and flexed his back, wincing as various muscles complained. He eyed his subordinate with some concern.

  "I think we’ve reached the limit of what we can hope to achieve this evening." He said. "I think we both need sleep. We might not get much opportunity later on."

  Lewis nodded. "With your permission, sir, I’d like to return to Warspite." He gave a weak smile. "To sleep, not to bite the heads off my own staff officers."

  "Do you intend to remain there?"

  "Yes, sir. I think from now on I should remain at my post."

  Wingate nodded his agreement.

  "I’ll need you for the Council but you can attend by hologram. Now go! Get some sleep."

  ___________________________

  "The car should be around in a minute, sir." Sheehan said quietly.

  Lewis nodded without replying. After a day spent inside, the cool night air was like balm. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw an officer in a captain’s uniform approach and salute. With a sigh he turned and started to acknowledge.

  Then stopped.

  "Tim could you give us a moment please." He said over his shoulder.

  Sheehan nodded to the other captain and withdrew back into the shadows without a word.

  The captain was of average height and build. She looked to be in her late forties but Lewis knew she was ten years older. Her uniform was also nearly ten years out of date. She hadn’t had any reason to wear it in a long time.

  "I didn’t think we’d actually got as far as reservists turning up." He said quietly.

  "I didn’t see any reason to wait. Don’t think I’m the first to arrive either. Although I have to admit this jacket has got a bit tight since the last time I wore it." She replied running her hands down her sides.

  "It still looks good on you Laura." Paul smiled sadly as he stepped into her embrace.

  They stood together without speaking for a while.

  "I’ve never understood how someone so willing to charge into the breach could join Science Fleet." Lewis said quietly.

  "Mystery keeps a marriage interesting." Laura replied.

  Lewis smiled with amusement as his chin rested on the top of her head.

  "Besides, you lot are already requisitioning all of our ships. What am I supposed to do?"

  "Laura, Dublin will probably be the first target of any strikes on Earth. You–"

  "No Paul." Laura cut him off. "You’re going to be on the bridge of Warspite, so don’t talk to me about danger."

  Lewis sighed and nodded.

  "Sir, the car’s here." Sheehan said out of the shadows.

  Laura sighed and stepped back. Lewis reluctantly let her go.

  "Go, and look after yourself out there."

  Lewis didn’t have an answer. As the car drew away he looked back to see his wife wave once, then turn and walk into Headquarters.

  ___________________________

  David Guinness straightened his uniform jacket as he paused outside Fleet Headquarters. He had taken the first train to Dublin; from there he caught a taxi to the fleet complex on the north of the city. Now standing outside the concrete monstrosity that housed the fleet personnel bureau, he hesitated, the called up reservists hadn’t started arriving yet and many would never come here, instead going to the Battlefleet offices in their own countries. That meant there wasn’t a crowd for him to blend in with, and that probably meant that the only place he wanted to be would turn him away.

  As he approached the steps, a staff car pulled away and disappeared into the night. A captain on the steps waved once before turning back towards the building. Guinness took a deep breath and followed her in.

  Despite the late hour inside there were still dozens of people rushing about.

  "Yes? Can I help you?" The young female Petty Office at the reception looked tired and harassed.

  "Reservist reporting for duty." Guinness replied with as much confidence as he could muster.

  The woman gave him an uncertain look.

  "Second floor room two five seven. Do you need directions?"

  "No thank you, I’ve been here before." Guinness replied firmly this time.

  Twenty minutes later, after stopping once for directions he found the right room. Another young woman this time in a lieutenant’s uniform was typing at a computer. She looked up as Guinness knocked at the door. David came in and adopted the ‘at ease’ stance.

  "Yes?"

  "Chief Engineer David Guinness reporting for call up. Ma’am"

  "Ah… right…" She typed at her computer for a moment. "Do you have your serial number?"

  "Alpha, two, seven, nine, eight, four, two." David recited from memory. He’d always had a good memory for numbers, handy for remembering the setting of an intermix chamber rather than having to look it up every time.

  The lieutenant typed the serial number into her computer and waited for it to spit out the data. Once it did, she examined the read out, then frowned and shook her head.

  "I’m sorry Chief, you’re listed as retired."

  "That’s right ma’am, six months ago under the thirty five year rule. I wish to re-enlist."

  "You’re over fifty eight. We can’t–"

  Guinness did something he hadn’t done in thirty years - interrupt an officer.

  "Error in my record, ma’am. They entered the wrong date of birth, put a
n extra couple of years on to me, never did manage to get it cleared up. I’m only fifty seven."

  "Chief, we don’t make those kinds of errors." She objected.

  Guinness didn’t reply but a subtle change in his stance suggested he’s seen personnel make a lot of mistakes.

  "Alright I’ll correct the file." Guinness started to relax. "If you have your birth certificate with you." She added with a malicious glint in her eye.

  "Oh…"

  "Until you provide that, there is nothing we can do since we can’t enlist someone over–" The lieutenant was interrupted again. This time an inner office door opened and a captain put his head out.

  "Claire can you…"

  David snapped the captain a smart salute, technically this wasn’t a situation in which a salute was required but it did serve to get the captain’s attention.

  "Chief Engineer David Guinness retired reporting for re-enlistment. Sir"

  The lieutenant frowned as she saw a blatant attempt to go over her head.

  "Sir, this man's attempting to re-enlist despite being over age."

  "Wrongly recorded date of birth, sir."

  The captain walked over to the lieutenant’s computer and tilted the screen so he could read from it. After a minute or so he scrolled down.

  "I’m sure the chief knows his own birthday Claire. No point in refusing a man of his experience over an obvious clerical error." The captain remarked distantly. "Re-enlist the chief, hostilities only subject to a successful medical." The captain offered a hand. "Welcome back to the fleet, Chief Engineer Guinness."