The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War)

by Edmond Barrett

  There was also the Vincent situation. The look of surprise on his face when he found out had been comical - he’d been out of the system, meeting a couple of inbound transports when the Admiral collapsed. But it was the first time in their respective careers that one of them had enjoyed significant seniority over the other. Vincent’s response was to formally address her as Ma’am, although in private always with a smile on his face. It was bloody inconvenient: the friendship between them had been starting to deepen again but now she was his superior, that was on hold .

  Twelve days after she assumed command the Aèllr Frontier Force arrived for its monthly resupply and Willis took the opportunity to speak with its commander.

  “Thank you sir,” she said as Admiral Melchiori handed her a drink.

  “To Admiral Shibanova,” Melchiori said raising his own glass, “a fine man and a sad loss. How are you getting along, Commander?”

  “Well enough sir. But I am starting to wonder about this situation.”

  “Oh.”

  “We sent a transmission to Earth the day the Admiral collapsed. Even allowing two days for the transmission to reach Earth, another two for a reply to reach us and two more to consider the question, we still should have got a reply almost of a week ago.” Willis sipped from her glass. “I’m wondering what they’re doing.”

  “They have a lot on their plates,” Melchiori replied, sitting back in his chair. “The simple fact is the real war is against the Nameless. There are a lot of dispatches flowing back and forth that you don’t have authorisation to see, but there is a debate going on regarding deployment - too many obligations and too few ships. Headquarters is trying to persuade the Council to downgrade my command and fold it into Shibanova’s. So far they haven’t been persuaded and to be honest if my ships aren’t spending most of the time on the Aèllr frontier, then there is a lot of pressure to move them to the Junction Line rather than having them potter around Dryad.”

  “Well it’s not that I’m complaining… alright that’s a lie, I am complaining. I just wish I knew where I stood. Even if it was just being told that someone is on route.” Willis frowned into her drink

  “Well based on my rich years of experience after two weeks with no reply it is acceptable to send another message, just to remind them,” Melchiori replied. “All I can suggest Faith, is to keep the seat warm and everything on an even keel. In the meantime we continue the same arrangement I had with Shibanova.”

  On schedule the Frontier Force left for its next patrol. Two days later one of Melchiori’s cruisers, the America, returned with one of the usual fictional equipment malfunctions. The Geriatrics patrolled the system while Deceiver flaunted herself between its planets. No communications from Earth arrived and Willis sent off a reminder. A Rizr cruiser briefly appeared at the edge of the system before leaving again but that was the closest they came to excitement. The danger appeared to have passed and Dryad Station seemed to be returning to the happy state of sleepy backwater.

  15th May 2067

  Midway through the second watch the intercom panel above Willis’s bunk buzzed.

  “Hmm?” she muttered sleepily.

  “Officer of the watch Ma’am. Recce courier L23 has just arrived back. They jumped in close to Hawkings Base, than came looking for us. Its skipper wants to speak to you urgently.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “No. Just that it’s urgent.”

  Willis rubbed at her eyes as she tried to wake up.

  “At this hour it should be. Alright,” Willis replied as she reached for her dressing gown, “I’m on my way up.”

  She was still yawning and trying to comb her hair with her fingers when she reached the bridge.

  “Sorry for waking you Skipper,” the officer of the watch said apologetically as she came in.

  “It’s alright Lieutenant,” she yawned at him as she sat down. “Just give me the link up with the courier.”

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  Willis looked around her bridge, vaguely curious to see if there would be any sign of amusement at her appearance on the faces of the duty shift, but everyone seem to be focusing on their jobs, no doubt waiting until she was gone. Then her chair’s screen lit up and the face of the recce courier’s skipper appeared.

  “Lieutenant,” she greeted him, trying to suppress another yawn, “what is it that can’t wait?”

  “Morning ma’am,” the lieutenant replied. “We’ve completed our latest run to Rizr bases at Sickle One and Sickle Two.”

  “And again, what is it that couldn’t wait until morning?”

  “Ma’am, the Rizr fleet has moved. We don’t know where it is.”

  Suddenly Willis wasn’t sleepy anymore.

  “This image was taken by our recce courier L09 at its point of closest approach to Sickle Two on the twenty-fourth of April.” Hood’s tactical officer said before changing the picture. “This one from the latest sweep by L23 was taken on the eighth of May. As you can see there have been some changes, mostly removals. On the twenty-fourth we had two battleships, two armoured cruisers, four protected cruisers, four super destroyers and eight small destroyers all berthed. By the eighth however, only the battleships and the small destroyers remain and all the cruisers and the super destroyers are gone.” The lieutenant paused for a moment to allow the audience to study the images. As well as the commanders of the rest of the Geriatrics, Willis had also summoned Kinnear and Captain Waugh of the Heavy Cruiser America, nominally back for repairs to one of its radiator panels.

  “This set of pictures was taken at Sickle One two days after those at Sickle Two,” the lieutenant continued. “Previously another two battleships, three armoured and three protected cruisers, along with six super destroyers and seven small ones were stationed here. As with Sickle Two, between the sweeps performed by L09 and L23, the cruisers and large destroyers have gone. Ladies and Gentlemen, these ships represent about sixty percent of the Rizr tonnage in warships and nearly ninety percent of their most strategically mobile units.”

  “Thank you Lieutenant,” Willis said as she took his place. “What you all also need to be aware of is that warships aren’t the only things that are missing. Here at Sickle Two there were six first class personnel transports, of a type that fleet intelligence reports have been used as troop transports in the past.”

  “You think the Rizr are making their move?” Commander Daler asked.

  “I think we have to consider that the missing ships are the very units that the Rizr would use in any movement against Dryad. The only vessels that were still visible to L23 were battleships and small destroyers, ships that don’t really have the legs to get here.”

  “You know this could be a lot of fuss over nothing,” Kinnear finally said. “The Rizr do redeploy ships sometimes. This could just be an entirely routine move.”

  “You’re talking a gap of fourteen or fifteen days between sweeps,” said Commander Farrell of Cyclone. “If they left straight after L09’s last sweep they could have been on the move for up to twenty days.”

  Lieutenant Commander Romanek, skipper of the Typhoon twisted around in her chair to look at Hood’s tactical officer. “Do you know how long they’d need to get here?” she asked.

  The Lieutenant glanced towards Willis, only replying when she nodded.

  “Well Ma’am, their speed through jump space is a lot slower than ours. Those leaving from Sickle Two, based on the last set of intelligence estimates, the protected cruisers could make the passage in twenty days with one fuel stop. Their armoured cruisers and the super destroyers would need at least twenty-five days with respectively one and two refuelling stops. The six personnel transports… sorry, but the available information is a lot more vague. I would guess the same as the armoured cruisers. Those coming from Sickle One, we can add another three days perhaps.”

  Willis found it heartening that her ship commanders had not seem to have paid too much attention to Kinnear’s scepticism. Instead they were embracing the ide
a this was the long feared Rizr assault.

  “So that would mean the earliest they could arrive as a combined force would be… a week today,” Romanek mused.

  “When is Deceiver due back?” Daler asked Willis.

  “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Kinnear said as he stood and strolled to the front of the room. “We’re all getting very ahead of ourselves and reading far too much into ship movements. Like every other fleet, the Rizr move their ships around. I would remind you all that we’ve seen almost nothing of the Rizr since Deceiver destroyed one of their ships. Deceiver’s success has told them that they cannot take Dryad.”

  “Or has told them that we’re weakened to the point that we have to use tricks,” Romanek replied. “If they tried attacking our shipping last year sir, we could simply have sent in a couple of cruiser squadrons and given them a slap.”

  “That is a guess Lieutenant Commander,” Kinnear told her calmly. “Anyway L09 is on her next run out. I am confident that when it returns, we will see all or most of the missing ships.”

  “Sir,” Willis replied evenly, “L09 isn’t due back for another ten days. If the Rizr have moved they could arrive before the courier gets back here.”

  “What to you plan to do then, Commander Willis?” Kinnear asked as he crossed his arms.

  “I plan to muster all of my ships here, cancel the escorts of the in-system transports and recommend that all jump capable transports come here to Dryad Two and remain here.”

  “Commander, you’re talking about shutting down the economic activity of this entire solar system!”

  “Yes sir.” There was no point in avoiding it, a complete shut down was exactly what she was asking for. “If a Rizr taskforce arrives in system, any transports at Dryads Five or Four will be easy prizes.”

  “And just how long do you plan to continue this lock down, Commander?”

  “Until we can recall Vice Admiral Melchiori and the ships of the Frontier Force. If we send an FTL transmission to him today, he stands a good chance of being back here before the Rizr.”

  Kinnear didn’t reply and instead studied her thoughtfully.

  “Can I speak to you privately Commander?” he eventually said.

  After the startled occupants of the small office close to the briefing room had been hustled out the door, Kinnear turned to face her.

  “You certainly know how to stir things up, Faith,” he said wearily. “You’ve got everyone in there convinced that an invasion fleet is about to jump in at any moment.”

  “But not you sir,” she replied.

  “No, Commander, I am not convinced,” he said shaking his head, “not convinced at all. I’ve been here a long time. I know some people think I’ve been here for too long, but I like to think I’ve been here long enough to know this corner of the universe pretty well. Of all the Tample star nations the Rizr are the one I have the least respect for. That ruling Junta of theirs is a gang of glorified bullies. Show weakness and they’ll go after you without mercy, show strength and they back off.”

  “That might be the case sir, but I don’t think we’re showing strength,” Willis replied.

  “And I think Admiral Shibanova has you all jumping at shadows.”

  Willis felt herself stiffen angrily. Kinnear saw it.

  “Don’t misunderstand me. Shibanova was a fine officer, but he was in the wrong place. The mistake was by Headquarters. A man like him could have done great work on the Nameless front.”

  “What kind of man do you believe he was, sir?” she asked stiffly.

  “A man of action Commander. But they sent him here, to a backwater theatre.”

  “Sir, I have considered the possibility that this might just be military manoeuvres but I don’t think it is. Taking this system is their primary strategic objective. Now’s the best chance they’ve had in nearly twenty years.”

  “Six transports won’t carry enough ground troops to take the system Commander. And in all seriousness, what would it achieve? As soon as modern ships arrived, any Rizr troops would be cut off.”

  “It’s true those transports can carry no more than battalion each. But there are no more than a couple of hundred armed men in the entire system, and most of them are policemen, not soldiers. So that is enough to take the entire system, with plenty of human hostages available to use as shields. Melchiori cuts them off but then what? Without a base or supplies, he’ll have to retreat within days. We’d need ground troops of our own to root them out and assuming we could even come up with them, there would be heavy civilian casualties. At the very least the Rizr would be in a position of strength for any negotiations.”

  “Commander that might be a possibility, but it’s a low probability.”

  As the two stared at each other, Willis sensed that she had failed to sway the Admiral.

  “Sir, I would like to request that an FTL signal be sent to Vice Admiral Melchiori, requesting that he bring his ships back here as fast as possible.”

  “No.”

  “Sir, I…” Willis started to say but Kinnear cut her off.

  “Melchiori has his own task. I will not drag him away from that to face a danger than I believe is neither real nor present Commander.”

  “Sir, I will be making my request in writing. I will also make those preparations which are within my authority to make.”

  “Including a travel freeze by in-system transports?”

  “Yes sir. I will also send one of the recce couriers to summon Melchiori.”

  “If you decide to do this, it will cost you Commander, you do realise that?” Kinnear said grimly. “A travel shut down will cost the corporations hundreds of millions and they will make sure it costs you your career. Headquarters will not protect you. If you yank an entire task force out of position to confront a phantom, they will see you as a hysteric!”

  Willis’s mouth felt desperately dry. As threats went that felt very plausible.

  “Let me make myself clear Commander. You have the authority for this. But I won’t back you up on it. You are on your own!”

  “The Rizr can’t arrive as a task force earlier than the twenty-first, so there is no point transport shutting down before then, but by the twenty-first, I will instruct that all transports have to be here.” She didn’t know whether it was her imagination but she thought she heard a slight tremble in her voice.

  “So you’re set on a course of action that will either see you go into combat or the ruination of your career.” Kinnear sat down heavily and gave her a disgusted look. “You know how to give yourself options Commander.”

  ___________________

  When she was in school she’d read a lot of old war novels. They were usually badly written and as formulaic as hell but even so, she’d loved them. They were probably the reason she’d decided on a military career. In nearly every book the moment would come when the hero had to make a decision and they’d go the way their gut was telling them. Well this was her moment but her gut wasn’t telling her anything beyond what it thought of dinner. Her decision was based on an interpretation of the available data.

  It had come as a huge surprise when, shortly after first contact with the Tample star nations, human diplomats discovered that the Tample were in fact the oldest known spacefaring species, with jump capability well over a century and a half ahead of the Aèllr. Like the Aèllr, the Tample managed to unify their home planet under a single world government but unlike them, they couldn’t maintain that control over their colony worlds. Instead, some time around the end of Earth’s eighteenth century, the Tample Federation fragmented into six major and nine minor competing star nations. After that the Tample as a species, politically, socially and above all, technologically, stagnated. In the case of the Rizr that was mostly due to a lack of living space.

  Despite a military ruling class, Rizr was potentially the richest of the star nations. But their ambitions were kept in check by the very nature of their world. It had started out merely as a mining colony, on a planet not particular
ly suited for life. The mineral deposits made the star nation potentially wealthy, but the harshness of Rizr’s environment meant that much of that wealth was soaked up just keeping its small population alive.

  Dryad Two on the other hand, on the surface of which an unprotected human could survive for twenty minutes or so, was a potential paradise for the people of Rizr. They’d once tried to take Dryad and fluffed it. Apparently heads had quite literally rolled for that failure, but now, for reasons beyond their control, they had been offered a second bite of the cherry. Rationally Willis could acknowledge that Kinnear might well be right. But if her gut wasn’t telling her anything, her head was saying they couldn’t afford to allow this chance to pass them by.

  So assuming the Rizr were coming and that they had picked up one or two extra protected cruisers that had been engaged in raiding, they could be facing anything up to five armoured cruisers, nine protected cruisers and ten destroyers. Against that she had her own Hood, plus Typhoon and Cyclone, both Storm class ships, just as old as Hood. They lacked her centrifuge but unlike Hood hadn’t lost their broadside sponsons so had fifty percent more guns. Then there was the raiding cruiser Onslaught and of course the Continental class cruiser America. Hawkins Base had once boasted three full squadrons of fighters, but those had been redeployed to the Nameless Front months ago. There were still a few fixed defences dotted about the system but none of these was capable of standing off a fleet.

  The America’s commanding officer, Captain Waugh, had seniority over her. But he wasn’t part of the Dryad force, so couldn’t excise command unless the Rizr actually arrived and that would be too late for command change. She had spoken to him privately. He was just as sceptical as Kinnear but had agreed that if the Rizr did arrive, America would have number two seniority.