There was a tap at the office door and Wingate’s chief of staff stepped in.
“Sir, the meeting with the Council is due to start in fifteen minutes,” she said firmly.
“I’ll be ready in a moment,” Wingate replied barely lifting his eyes from the screen.
“Respectfully, sir, it is at least a ten minute walk down there,” the Captain replied, before adding pointedly, “Admirals Lewis and Fengzi have already arrived.”
“Alright Anna, you’ve made your point. Let’s get moving.” If for no other reason, he needed to get down there to keep the peace between his two senior field commanders.
The Council Chamber was a specialised room buried several stories below the Fleet Headquarters on Earth. Getting numerous world leaders together as often as the fleet required would be a practical impossibility. Instead, at the centre of the room was a conference table with chairs on one side, and hologram equipment on the other. Seating also lined the walls of the chamber. Usually there were spare chairs around the main table but today every seat was filled, even the extra ones a work party of ratings had brought in. Most of the people present wouldn’t be required to speak but they were in attendance just in case they were needed to provide more information. The consequences of the day’s meeting would directly affect the direction of the war and in turn, every human being.
Admiral Wingate stared into space as he and the rest the fleet’s commanders waited for the Governing Council. To his right, Paul Lewis and Admiral Fengzi, the commander of the Second Fleet, were quietly talking. The two didn’t generally get along but on this occasion the conversation, between the firebrand Fengzi and the coldly pragmatic Lewis, was at least staying civil. As Wingate half listened to his two subordinates, he unconsciously rubbed one of his left hand’s remaining fingers up and down the faint scar tissue that still marked his face. Numerous operations had dulled the worst of the old burns, but they were still noticeable on his dark skin. Like most of the fleet’s senior officers, he was a veteran of the Contact War. The injuries he’d sustained in that conflict had threatened to end his career and had certainly limited it as a line officer. As a staff officer however, he had continued to rise, culminating four years previously in his appointment to military head of the fleet. This was something of a mixed blessing because his role was as much political as military, and there was no shortage of politics.
Although an organisation independent of any single administration, Battle Fleet was still answerable to the world’s governments. Mercifully it had been recognised when the fleet was founded that it couldn’t answer to all those governments all at once. That would have resulted in the kind of institutional paralysis that routinely afflicted the old United Nations. Instead there was a council made up of the governing executives of eight nations. While membership of the Council changed periodically in accordance with a hugely complicated political formula, in very loose terms there was a seat for each of the American continents and two each for Asia and Europe, while the remaining two were split between Africa and Australia/Pacific Rim. Currently the council members consisted of the Presidents of the United States, Egypt and Brazil, the Prime Ministers of China, Britain, Australia and India and the Chancellor of Germany.
Secretary Daniel Callahan, the fleet’s political head, sat down heavily, looking out of breath.
“The flight was delayed,” Callahan said by way of explanation. Wingate had barely seen the Secretary since the war began. In an era in which modern technology could make it seem like you were in the same room as someone who was actually half a world away, diplomats still set great store on face-to-face contact.
“We have agreement on most of the dockyards Cody. I expect the last holdouts will fall into place within the next week or two,” Callahan continued quietly.
“Good,” Wingate replied, “I need those facilities Daniel.”
“Yes, believe me the sight of dozens of ships coming back with bits missing focused a lot of minds.” The Secretary’s voice dropped. “My discussions also brushed across other issues. We seriously need to talk.”
Before Wingate could reply, there was a chime from the ceiling.
“Everyone, please rise for the Council.”
Across the table, the eight holograms of the council members flickered into being. In the centre chairman position sat the hologram of the President of the United States, Ruth Clifton.
“Please, everyone be seated,” she said. “Thank you for coming. We’re here to discuss and agree our strategic direction for the next few months. The fleet has made a number of recommendations, which have been forwarded to you. The core of these recommendations is that the fleet stands on the defensive for between six months to a year.” Everyone present had read the recommendations but a murmur of voices still ran round the room. “A number of governments not currently sitting on this council have contacted me to express their… concern regarding this proposed strategy. It seems overly… passive. Admiral Wingate, do you have any comment?”
Wingate pushed himself to his feet.
“Council members, I know all of you have read our report in great detail. However I would like to reiterate what I believe are the two key points. Firstly, on the twenty-third of July, at Baden, the fleet lost a battleship, a fighter carrier, six cruisers and seven destroyers. The clash at Alpha Centauri cost us another six cruisers, six destroyers and a fighter carrier. I cannot overemphasise, those ships are gone for good. We cannot build replacements of equal capabilities quickly enough to be of any relevance to this war. The replacements that are slated to come online over the next eighteen months will be smaller, less capable ships. Of our surviving combat units, almost all of the remaining ships of both the First and Third Fleets are in need of repair, major in many cases. Finally the reactivation of the mothballed fleet and replacing casualties means that our pre-existing manpower reserves are effectively gone. As of this moment, Battle Fleet possesses less than half the effective combat capability it possessed six months ago. A gratifying number of volunteers have signed up and we’ve had transfers from national militaries, but it will be a year before the volunteers and six months before the transfers are ready for active service. We are prioritising repairs to return the maximum number of ships to service as quickly as possible. We are also doing conversion work to a number of vessels, mostly notably the old battleship Fortitude, to make them better suited to the conditions we are now facing. Nevertheless we still face a dangerous period while we try to recover our strength. The second issue is the Nameless themselves. We know essentially nothing about them - who they are, what they are, their war aims, their bases, and their origins. All of these things are a blank. So while we repair and rebuild we also need time in which to attempt to find some of these answers.”
“So essentially this would see the majority of the fleet remain close to Earth?” Clifton asked.
“With the bulk of our heavy units, that is correct Ma’am. A number of lighter units are currently deployed away from Earth, principally for intelligence gathering. We are also currently developing plans to establish a defensive perimeter further from Earth, once damaged units become available again. If opportunity arises, we will mount localised offensives but we do not at this time seek another fleet clash.”
“Admiral,” the speaker was the Brazilian Premier, “it strikes me that we losing an opportunity to press the advantage won at Alpha Centauri.”
Wingate looked over at Lewis.
“Admiral Lewis, can you answer that please.”
“Yes sir,” Lewis replied, before turning to speak. “Council members, attempting to follow up the recent engagement returns us to the problems outlined by Admiral Wingate. We are constrained by a lack of information, the sheer vastness of space and the absolute necessity to commit the bulk of our assets to the defence of Earth. This makes even finding the Nameless difficult. Added to this, unless we have clear targets to aim for, like bases or a homeworld, we cannot seriously hope to force contact. A Nameless squadron or f
leet that finds itself outmatched and has nothing that obliges it to stand and fight can opt to retreat. Put simply, attempting to seek and destroy the Nameless at this time is likely to be about as productive as attempting to punch fog.”
“What about sending out raiding ships? In the last war you yourself tied down considerable enemy assets with one ship Admiral,” the Brazilian persisted.
“Again sir, that runs into the problem of not knowing where the Nameless are based. When I commanded the Onslaught during the last war, those ships I destroyed were in close proximity to Aèllr worlds. Even if we assume that like our ships, theirs have to drop into real space periodically to purge heat sinks and we knew their route, the chances of finding transport ships on route would be infinitely remote. If we do identify their homeworld however, or secondary worlds of the Nameless, then the use of raiders will be an option.”
The Chinese Premier spoke for the first time. “On the subject of the Aèllr, have we seen any movement on their side of the frontier?”
“The answer to that is a qualified no,” Wingate replied. “The vessels we used in covert operations across the frontier have been redeployed for scouting duties. We have deployed the battleship Resplendent along with the cruisers Murrumbidgee, Antarctica, America and six destroyers all under the command of Rear Admiral Melchiori, to patrol the frontier. We can say that at this moment no Aèllr vessel has been detected crossing into our space.”
“If they do?” someone asked.
There was a silence on the military side of the conference table.
“We get crushed,” Lewis said flatly.
“Melchiori’s force is no more than a trip wire, but it is also as much as we can spare,” Wingate followed on. “The Aèllr don’t make decisions particularly quickly and remain casualty averse. So as long as we can keep up appearances on the frontier systems, that should be enough.”
“What about the Tample star nations?” President Clifton asked.
“They are more of a problem,” Wingate admitted. “When the Second Fleet returned to Earth, the Twelfth Cruiser Squadron was left behind to defend the Dryad system. Those are modern ships that we cannot afford to leave there. We propose to replace them with the reconstituted Cruiser Squadron Eighteen.”
“That being?”
“Four reactivated Contact War era vessels - first generation starships.”
Clifton frowned slightly.
“That would make those ships well over thirty years old, Admiral. Do you believe that is adequate?”
“It is what we can spare, Madam President. The jump drive technology of the Tample nations is inferior to ours. The worse case scenario from that direction is the complete loss of the Dryad system. However their jump drive technology won’t allow them to get any further than Dryad,” Wingate paused and shrugged. “It is not a perfect deployment but Earth is the priority and even those old cruisers are slightly superior to Tample ships. Our ultimate reasoning however is that Dryad is a place we can afford to take a hit.”
“I see,” Clifton replied, before looking up and down the Council members. “Does anyone have any comment?”
“I don’t like leaving the civilian population there so exposed. Is there any possibility of evacuating Dryad?” the German Chancellor asked.
Wingate paused before answering.
“The system’s population is a hundred and twenty thousand…”
“One hundred thirty, sir,” Admiral Fengzi interrupted.
“Thank you. Evacuation would take at least a year and tie up every personnel transport available to the human race. So it isn’t a practical proposition.”
“We could evacuate the children within a practical time frame, assuming no hostile move against the system,” Lewis said. “But assuming parents were even willing, the separation period might run into years.”
“Maybe practically possible, Admiral, but politically… very, very difficult,” Clifton replied. “However that option is one we will certainly keep on the table. Moving on, the Nameless themselves, what do we have?”
“In truth, a lot of speculation but precious few facts,” Wingate said. “What we have is mostly based on observational data. We can now be sure that the Nameless currently favour missile armament exclusively. Their jump drive equivalent allows them to cross inter-stellar distances faster than our ships and also allows them to re-enter real space about a third closer to a planetary body, depending on the size of that body. On the positive side however, in real space their ships have markedly inferior power-to-mass ratios, meaning their ships lack armour and have inferior acceleration. Also while they can cross inter-stellar distances more quickly than us, this appears to come at the cost of higher fuel expenditure. The big downside however remains their long-range missiles. These weapons can fire effectively from far beyond our ability to return fire. The only counter we currently have to this would be fighters, but since we only possess two carriers, the Akagi and the Illustrious, our ability to use them is limited.”
“I see Admiral,” Clifton replied, pressing her fingers lips for a moment before speaking again. “In truth it is hard for any of us, any of us statesmen anyway, to truly grasp the magnitude of the threat we are facing. As nations, most of us have not faced a serious threat to our ways of life from anything other than our fellow humans in many decades. We have therefore perhaps been complacent in the face of external threats, forgetting that even the collective strength of all Earth’s nations still makes us only a secondary power in the galaxy. We accept therefore that our means are limited and our strategy must be governed by those limitations.” Clifton paused for a moment then continued. “However there is one topic which I believe the fleet is attempting to brush under the carpet: Landfall.”
“Our last communication from the colony stated that the population is being evacuated to the shelters and siege being prepared for,” Wingate said carefully. “However as of the last report, the planet has not been approached by any Nameless forces.”
“I believe those reports are subject to a transmission lag in the region of forty hours,” Clifton replied.
“That is correct, Ma’am.”
“So we only know what is happening there nearly two days afterwards.”
“Correct Madam President. The transit time for a fast wing of armed ships between Earth and Landfall is a minimum of ten days. If the Nameless choose to move against the planet, we will not be able to get a fleet there quickly enough. But I would remind you that the planet is defended by one orbital fort and missile batteries capable of engaging orbiting starships.”
“At times anyway,” said the British Prime Minister Michael Layland. “My own military staff has made the point that unlike Earth’s, Landfall’s missile batteries do not cover the entire sky. While they would be able to protect the shelters from orbital bombardment, they are not capable of stopping a landing from being made elsewhere on the planet. And by elsewhere I mean within about a hundred kilometres of the shelters.”
“But they do cover the parts of the planet that will be sheltering the population,” Wingate replied, “and the ground forces stationed there are in turn capable of defending the launchers from a surface assault”
“There is that point. Certainly I agree Earth is the critical ground the Nameless must take to win and thus must be protected,” Clifton replied. “Do you believe the Nameless will assault Landfall?”
Wingate and Lewis exchanged looks.
“There are a number of scenarios in which we can envision the Nameless attacking Landfall,” Wingate replied. “The seizure of the planet could be a primary war aim. Alternatively they could do so to draw us out into a battle of attrition we are in no condition to fight.”
“Is there anything we can do to prevent this?” asked the Egyptian President.
“For the time being the fleet can stay clear of Landfall, not give the Nameless a reason to go there. In our judgement, Landfall is in itself a strategic irrelevance,” Wingate said. “The other course of action op
en to us is in the hands of yourselves, the national governments. The population of Landfall will be safe inside the shelters. The problem is, those shelters are not especially comfortable. If there is no immediate assault, there will be public pressure for a return to the separate colonies. It is our advice that this be resisted at all costs. With the population in the shelters, Landfall offers no soft targets. If people are allowed to return to the colonies, then they once again become vulnerable to attack. We would like individual governments to order their colony governors to keep their people in the shelters.”
“We will make sure that your advice is passed along to the relevant authorities Admiral, but obviously that is a decision for individual governments,” Clifton replied. “But what action does the fleet propose if Landfall does come under assault?”
“Primarily, that the planet defend itself,” he replied bluntly.
“Admiral, there are over three million people on that planet,” Layland objected. A number of other council members nodded in support.
“Respectfully Mister Prime Minister,” Lewis spoke before Wingate could make any reply, “there are over nine billion on this one.”
That was certainly a good example of the Home Fleet’s Commander’s famous bluntness, Wingate thought to himself. It might be true but such statements were probably too brutal. Perhaps for once Lewis sensed this himself, for he added: “blockade runners should be able to get through though.”
“But if they fail, the fleet will find another way to support the planet,” Callahan added unexpectedly. Both Wingate and Lewis abruptly turned to look at the Secretary.
“Do you have anything to add Admiral?” Clifton asked.
Wingate was aware that the Council members were watching him intently. Politicians could smell division at a thousand paces. They couldn’t afford to show disagreement at the fleet’s highest levels. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Lewis’s face. His expression had gone professionally blank.
“No Madam President. If the Nameless continue to bypass Landfall we will keep our distance, if they mount a sustained attack, we will have to reconsider our options.”
The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War) Page 2