The rebels didn’t go for it. John hadn’t expected them to, but he knew that several thousand heavy missiles were just moments away, hopefully making life a little difficult for his enemy.
Admiral Grigorivich had planned his missile assault well. The missiles that targeted the rebel flank had further to travel, and came in ahead of those directed at the rebel front line. The idea was ancient, called Time On Target, and it worked reasonably well.
Admiral Grigorivich commed John, “Estimate four hundred heavy missiles in your AO, five minutes to final.”
John ordered his fighters to accelerate. The main thrust was still to the front, where the admiral had four thousand fighters, and nearly two thousand heavy missiles, facing almost three thousand rebel fighters and an unknown but very large number of missile boats.
The rebel front flashed, and thousands of missiles began to accelerate towards the federals. John said to his pilot, “That was the most highly coordinated missile launch I’ve ever seen.” She said, “Nice to know the guy trying to kill you is good at his job.” John asked, “Lieutenant, are you just figuring that out?” She snorted, “Captain sir, I’ve got my hand on the throttle, you know, the one that causes you to weigh about, um, two hundred seventy-three kilos?” John said, “Lieutenant, I’ve got my hand on a permanent transfer to Pluto.” She said, “Yes sir, ten pounds sir.” He almost laughed.
For some reason John didn’t understand, now that the battle was on, he suddenly felt oddly relieved. A moment later he did laugh – his brother was over a million kilometers distant, and relatively safe.
For the most part, he now had little to do. Lieutenant Smith had just the opposite problem – her job was now beginning.
John’s command plot was very, very small, but reasonably sophisticated, probably one or two generations ahead of rebel counterparts. He began a running commentary to his CAG’s, informing them that they faced over eight thousand missiles, that the federal heavy missiles had caused barely a ripple in the rebel plans, which seemed to be much the same as John’s – kill a lot of fighters.
They launched a tight spread of six thousand light missiles, followed seconds later by two thousand more. John’s high estimate for the rebel launch had been around five thousand.
He promptly ordered his fighters to decelerate, and open back up the gap between their lines.
His crews had been through this before, many times before, and were adept at overriding the relatively simple targeting system that routinely overloaded in large battles. The navigators simply illumined a particular target and hand guided the missile. If they could get it to within a hundred kilometers of the target, the missile usually locked on.
Five thousand rebel missiles were destroyed by the first launch, another fifteen hundred by the second, leaving fifteen hundred missiles, now only twenty-five thousand kilometers out. John authorized another two thousand missiles, which took out yet another nine hundred. Six hundred rebel missiles came on. With a nearly two-to-one advantage, John decided to use their energy weapons on the remaining missiles. Three got through.
John ordered their first offensive launch, and four thousand missiles lofted away from his fighters, still barely in light missile range.
As his missiles flashed forward, John could see hundreds of missile boats fleeing into the interior of the rebel fleet. Most of the missile ships concentrated on the far larger federal force to the front of the rebels, but not all. John faced a stream of several hundred heavy and light missiles, but due to the fact that they were not in a compact mass, he didn’t want to use his remaining missiles on them.
The rebel fighters remained near the rebel front line. John looked at his sensor records, recorded from the moment the rebels launched, and couldn’t determine how many fighters had fired, if they had fired, or if they’d emptied their racks. He had a better than two-to-one advantage in fighters, but might or might not have a missile advantage. He decided to play it safe. He could always get more missiles, and he dreaded writing letters.
Instead, he ordered the launch of all his remaining missiles, once again targeting just the fighters. He ordered his fighters to withdraw back to their carriers.
The rebel fighters had indeed husbanded their missiles, and launched nearly three thousand. He counted the death of seventeen rebel fighters. It was not a terribly good result, considering they’d used sixteen thousand missiles. On the other hand, he felt confident that the rebels would not be able to long survive repeated missile duels.
Federal tactics dictated concentrating on rebel fighters, while the rebels were concentrating on federal carriers. The rebels lost something on the order of eight thousand fighters, most of them during their attack, while the federals lost thirteen carriers. John didn’t know the extent of the damage sustained by rebel capital ships, and the admiral was busy, so he concentrated on getting all his people safely back to their carriers. The rebels had lost more lives than the federals, and the total was one of the highest of any single engagement of the war, but unless the admiral ordered a second assault, the rebels still retained possession of the system.
Admiral Grigorivich congratulated John on his light losses. His frontal assault resulted in the loss of nearly three hundred fighters, for roughly the same number of rebel fighters.
John said, “Sir, may I suggest that the next assault not be split. Put one force behind the other. The second element can pass through the lines and finish the assault.”
A clearly exhausted admiral said, “Approved. Let’s finish this.”
It took six hours to return and reload. The admiral was nothing if not decisive, and supplemented the now thirty-four hundred fighters with another one thousand.
The rebel fleet had ceased launching heavy missiles, as had the admiral. They’d accomplished as close to nothing as to be the same thing, but had probably consumed the equivalent of one of the newer systems total economic output for an entire year.
John’s fighters followed behind forty-four hundred federal fighters as they accelerated once again toward the rebel fleet. At nearly the last minute, John decided to detach one hundred sixty fighters to supplement James eighty fighters. If he’d commanded the rebel fleet, he would have sent in at least one attack at the federal rear. The rebel admiral had managed to hold the far superior federal forces at bay for over four years, so he was certainly more than sufficiently capable of coming up with a useful idea now and then.
Because of the absence of missiles, the federal advance seemed almost peaceful. The admiral was also noticeable for his absence. John put that thought out of his mind.
At one hundred thousand kilometers, First Fleet launched thirty thousand missiles. One minute later, it launched another ten thousand. They continued to sweep forward. Thousands of rebel missiles appeared, but not nearly as many as John would have expected. He commed First Fleet’s lead CAG, and asked him what she thought. She said, “They’re husbanding their missiles; either that or they don’t have any left.”
As the first federal flight closed to within twenty thousand kliks, the rebels flushed their racks. An enormous wall of flame erupted as the two flights of missiles came together.
Seven thousand federal missiles appeared, and were met by less than five thousand rebel follow-on missiles, which took out another three thousand.
For the first time in the battle, federal missiles were able to target the rebel main fleet. Energy weapons flashed, and small numbers of defensive missiles appeared, but a line of small explosions walked through the huge fleet.
Hundreds of fighters disappeared. The remaining fighters fought desperately to destroy the second wave of missiles, but were overwhelmed, despite a light rain of additional missiles from other rebel capital ships behind the collapsing front line.
Hundreds more fighters exploded, dozens of ships were hit, most of them multiple times. John almost cried with grief at the death and destruction spreading through the suddenly largely defenseless rebel ships.
He made a familia
r call in the clear, “Commander of the rebel fleet. I estimate that the federal missiles under my command can destroy your entire fleet. Please don’t force me to find out. If you agree to an immediate ceasefire, we will assist your people in rescuing survivors.”
John’s fighters, as well as First Fleet’s, decelerated to a standstill, a mere one thousand kilometers from the remnants of the rebel fighters. John hadn’t been contacted by the admiral – in fact he hadn’t heard from him since his agreement to launch the final assault. However, more than twenty thousand people had died before this attack, and he knew thousands more had just been killed – he wanted an end to it.
He ordered two hundred of his pilots to run down emergency beacons. The remainder remained on station. He didn’t have any authority over First Fleet’s fighters; nonetheless, he asked them to split into squadrons and ensure that the rebel fleet remained in place.
He finally heard from Admiral Sims, the commander of the rebel fleet. He asked, “Who am I speaking to?” John answered, “Captain Chamberlin, on behalf of Admiral Grigorivich. Sir, your position is hopeless – if you attempt to continue, you will lose thousands more lives, for nothing.” The admiral asked, “What are your conditions.” John sighed, “I request that your missile ships and boats shut down their targeting systems. The missile boats should assist in the rescue operation, and all remaining fighters should return to their carriers. After we finish with the rescue, I request that you join Admiral Grigorivich aboard his battleship.”
“Agreed.”
It took two additional days to recover the twenty-nine thousand dead and injured. It was the second-deadliest battle of the entire war, and hopefully, the last.
The admiral was seriously ill, but he was able to negotiate the surrender of the system. He turned responsibility for it to John, saying, “What, you thought a good deed wouldn’t go unpunished?” He ordered Marines to provide a handful of totally ceremonial guards for each rebel ship. As they went aboard the various carriers and missile ships, they reported back that the ships were in uniformly terrible condition. John shook his head in bewilderment – he didn’t understand how they managed to get all those ships into one region of space, much less fight them so ably.
Chapter 37
One week to the day after the battle ended, First Fleet escorted the rebel fleet toward the system periphery, where they were to jump to earth.
John’s Marines took control of the manned orbital installations and temporarily shut down all communications while they began the task of looking for weapons of mass destruction and the factories that manufactured them.
The moment John was told of his new assignment, one he had assumed he would get, he ordered his carriers to jump into closer proximity of Grenoble. They caught a great many rats, but not all. Some escaped.
Admiral Grigorivich was due to take a leave of absence when he returned to earth. John hadn’t been told who would take his place, but he had a good idea. The war was all but won, all Admiral Khan would have to do was show up in the four systems that had not yet surrendered.
John sent a few Marines down, and they began the task of establishing a military presence. Within three weeks an enhanced Army regiment arrived in orbit.
Their commander, a general Chin, knew John, and asked, “Captain Chamberlin, what can you tell me about Grenoble that I don’t already know?” John said, “They’re tired, hungry and broke. Their infrastructure hasn’t been properly maintained in years, they’ve been eating supplements to make up for deficiencies in their diet, along with a steady diet of political poison. You’re not going to find much in the way of active insurrection, nor are you going to find one single person who will shake your hand. They’ll take anything you give them, and repay you with casual insults, dirty looks and the back of their heads.”
General Chin looked carefully at John and asked, “When was the last time you got leave?” John ignored the question and said, “Sir, watch your people like hawks. The last thing you need is for one of your grunts to get a local girl pregnant, or beat her up in a drunken brawl. Most just want to get on with their lives, but some won’t want that to happen. Either for money, because one of their family members died in the war, or for political gain, they’ll plot against everything you try to do to help Grenoble survive and prosper. I’ve put together a list of some of the ones you’ve got to watch, but I guarantee that you’ll add to it.”
They sat down to a meal, and discussed what John strongly felt had to happen in order for peace to have any chance of developing. An hour later they shook hands and John watched the general salute the flag and depart for a year in hell. General Chin didn’t seem to share John’s views about peace, but once again, John did what he could.
John hadn’t set foot on the planet, didn’t want to. He arranged for James to get a month’s leave, and walked with him to the shuttle. They stood, facing each other, and James said, softly, “I wish you could come with me. I’m willing to bet Jessica feels the same.” John managed a faint smile, “According to her last message, she’s taken to referring to me as ‘John Doe’”. James asked, “Any message for her?” John took a deep breath, “Tell her I’m sorry. She’ll understand.” James said, “You’re sorry?” John said, “I promised her the stars – and that’s all she’s gotten.” James said, “Listen, we survived the war, we’ll survive the peace. I have a feeling we’ll survive the grandchildren too.”
They shook hands, and James was gone.
Over the next month General Chin convened a military tribunal. Despite the enormous public horror over the development and use of nuclear weapons, the only actual breach of federal law was the original incident on the Fujian planetary surface. Now that the Federal Navy had the weapon, it was highly unlikely it would relinquish it.
Three months later, Admiral Grigorivich arrived. He looked better, but not well. He invited John to eat with him, and after the remains of their food were removed, he got to the point. “Captain Chamberlin, now that the fighting is nearly over, we’ve got to rebuild these rebel worlds. They’re in bad shape, and Congress is in no mood to spend any money. I’ll work from my end to try to help them recover, but I don’t think I’ll be terribly successful. Now, for the near term, the navy is going to be in charge, but frankly, most of the people getting assigned to run these worlds ought to be shot as rebel accomplices – they’re doing everything possible to turn a victory into the preamble for another war. I need people like you, need them badly. I’m offering you a thankless task, but one that must be done or humanity is headed for more death and destruction. Your enlistment is up in two months, and I have no doubt what your plans are. I have no right to order you to take the assignment, and I’m not going to; what I am doing is asking you to consider staying on as the Federal Commissioner for Grenoble. It would be for a period of one year, but you could bring your family. I don’t want you to give me an answer now. I’d like you to talk it over with your wife first.”
John sat up a little straighter, and asked, “Sir?” Admiral Grigorivich nodded, “You’ve got a seat on my shuttle. I want you back in two weeks. I wish it could be longer, but that’s all the time I have to spare: I’m your replacement Captain: I suggest that you don’t get on my bad side by missing your ride, which is due to depart the Adams in thirty minutes. Twenty-nine now.” John was already running for the hatch.
Chapter 38
He stepped down onto a military landing pad on Chavez that hadn’t existed on his list visit, and ran a hundred meters through a cold winter rain to reach cover. He pushed through a manual exit and came face-to-face with a large crowd. Jessica ran into his arms, almost knocking him over. She hugged him, and rained kisses on his face, taking a moment to find his lips.
He became dimly aware of loud applause, and reluctantly released his bride of just a few short hours, plus or minus a year. Castidad stepped up to hug him, followed by Jordan and Jennifer, and finally, his mother. James stood off to the side, grinning widely. With a shock, John realized that
his older brother stood next to James. Peter walked the few paces to John and held out his hand. They shook, peering intently at each other. Peter broke the silence, “Congratulations on returning home safely. I hope that when you recover from your homecoming, we can get an opportunity to catch up.” John nodded, finding that he looked forward to it.
Peter turned and a short, stocky woman walked over to stand next to John. She turned slightly and held out her hand, “Captain Chamberlin, on behalf of a grateful nation, I welcome you home.” John was at a loss – he didn’t know who she was – but she saved him by leaning forward and softly saying, “Alicia Candalaria, Alcaldesa of Chavez. I was elected last year after Alcalde Pinto was inducted into the navy.” John hadn’t known that either – he’d been gone a long time.
She waved and a young woman hurried up to them and held out a rolled tube. The alcaldesa – mayor in English – took the tube and the aide stepped out of the way.
Alcaldesa Candalaria fiddled with something at her waist, and her voice was suddenly amplified, “Citizens, honored guests, ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of a grateful city I am proud to welcome home Captain John Chamberlin, commanding officer of Second Fleet. In addition, I have been asked by Prime Minister Jones-Negroni to welcome home Captain Chamberlin on her behalf. Captain Chamberlin participated in virtually every major engagement of the war, and under his command, Second Fleet captured three rebel systems, and participated in the most recent battle at Grenoble. I have also been informed that earlier this year after the introduction of nuclear weapons, Second Fleet was ordered to Earth, where it assumed responsibility for the security of Earth’s outer system. His people discovered and neutralized numerous weapons of mass destruction that the rebel worlds attempted to infiltrate into the system, in the process saving hundreds, possibly many thousands of lives, and helping to bring the war of secession closer to its inevitable conclusion. There remain three systems that have not surrendered, but we have been informed that the rebels lost virtually their entire mobile fleet during the defense of Grenoble. We believe that the end of this conflict is but a short time away, and it is due entirely to the services of the hundreds of thousands of citizens such as Captain Chamberlin and the men and women who served with him.”
Hawk Genesis: War (Flight of the Hawk) Page 37