Exodus: Empires at War: Book 10: Search & Destroy

by Doug Dandridge

  “And the extra weight went into?”

  “Mostly heavier armor, though some went into weapons systems and the power to move it all at over two hundred kilometers an hour.”

  The Czar, who had served in the armed forces in the old Czar’s army, coming up as a lieutenant and ending as a regimental commander, turned an appraising eye toward the vehicles.

  “The gun?” he asked, pointing.

  “That has been upgraded, and it’s part of the demonstration. We’ve cleared out everything overhead, from low atmosphere to mid-orbit.” Baggett got on the com to the tank commanders. “Firepower demonstration, when ready.”

  All of the crews retreated back into their vehicles, The first tank in the group elevated its gun until it was pointing almost straight up. A moment later it fired, the magrail weapon moving the shell at four hundred kilometers a second, a hundred Ks faster than the guns on the B model. An explosion of ionized air blossomed at the muzzle, spreading out to a globe almost two hundred meters in size. Five seconds later, two thousand kilometers above, well out of the atmosphere, a bright point appeared.

  “These are just training rounds,” said Baggett over suit to suit com with the Czar. “One megaton antimatter warheads. In combat the tanks can carry up to fifty megaton antimatter warheads. Even bigger are possible, but it reaches a level where the vehicle can be more of a threat to our own side that the enemy.”

  “For anti-ship warfare,” said the Czar, another smile on his face.

  “Yes, sir. It gives your tanks a shore battery capability. Not as effective as a true mobile shore gun, but much better than nothing.”

  The next tank fired, then the next, until it had gone down the line and every vehicle in the company had fired. After the last fired the vehicles lowered their guns and started to move quickly over the ground. All maneuvered for some ten minutes, put through their paces, then retired over the hill.

  “These are all manned by veterans from your army,” said Baggett. “In future months we’ll be assembling crews that are a mix of veterans and new tankers. Now, we have another demonstration online over the hill, at the firing range.”

  Everyone moved on suit grabbers over the hill, where a large, flat field stretched away for ten kilometers. In the middle of that field were stationed a number of old Caca wrecks, tanks and personnel carriers, smaller than the human vehicles, though still impressive. Five kilometers away sat the ten human tanks, the Tyrannosaurs. All had their guns leveled at the former enemy vehicles, which were ridiculously within their range. That was something about land combat. Almost everything had maximum effective ranges in the hundreds of kilometers, and practical ranges, due to the constraints of planetary terrain, of a dozen or less.

  First the tanks fired with their particle beams, the angry red lines reaching out and seemingly connecting with the targets instantaneously. Vapor rose into the air as fast moving protons hit hard alloys. This went on for some minutes, a couple of the APCs blowing apart under the attention of the secondary armaments.

  Next they fired with their main guns, sending their hypervelocity shells into the enemy vehicles. Enemy tanks rang from the hits that opened large holes in the armor. APCs came apart at the seams, small turrets flying through the air. After each had fired a couple of rounds, one tank rolled forward about thirty meters, then started firing its main gun rapid fire, a round every three seconds, putting ten rounds on targets within half a minute. It struck five different targets, accurately. When she finished the targets were obscured by smoke and dust.

  “Very impressive,” said the Czar. “Thank you for gifting me with this spectacle.”

  “We’ll give you a force that will give the Cacas a good punch in the snouts,” said Baggett, standing tall in his armor.

  “And we have your army as well, and the rest of Field Marshal Arbuckle’s group?”

  “That is up to my Emperor,” said Baggett, who really hoped they would be released for offensive operations. He had had enough of defensive operations, and preferred to give rather than to receive.

  * * *

  SECTOR III SPACE, AUGUST 25TH, 1002.

  “It’s definite, Terrance,” said the face of Captain Francois Pasce over the com holo. There was some static over the holo, the result of transmission through hyperspace. The Scranton and the Angela Collins were less than a hundred hyperspace kilometers apart, moving on the trail of the Fenri team they were tracking.

  Shit, thought Terrance Zhukov, following the projected course of the enemy ship as it closed on the system ahead. The battle cruiser and light cruiser were both decelerating at their maximum rate, obviously aiming at the K class star ahead, which was the home of a frontier planet. Mostly defenseless, with a pair of non-hyper capable frigates to defend the three hundred thousand colonists. They wouldn’t have a chance against the Fenri light cruiser, much less a capital ship.

  “At least we might be able to trap them in the system long enough for our reinforcements to come along,” said Zhukov. Reinforcements were on the way, vectoring in on their position. That included a force of two light cruisers and five destroyers, due to link up in four days. The only other force they knew of was a pair of heavy cruisers that were supposed to link up in seven days, though that depended on what course the enemy took.

  “Yes,” said the other ship commander. “If they enter the system.”

  Zhukov felt a chill run up his spine as he as the implications of that statement sank in. If they didn’t enter the system, there could only be one purpose for them to head there.

  “But, we have a compact against the purposeful bombardment of planets with relativistic weapons.” His brain imagined the damage that an over hundred ton missile coming in at point nine five light could do to a planetary ecosystem. He did not like that image.

  “But both the Fenri and the Lasharans never signed that agreement,” said Francois. “Plus, both of those species are pretty much bloody minded.”

  And they want revenge, thought Zhukov, shaking his head. The Empire had all but overrun the Fenri Empire. As a military power they no longer existed. The Emperor was still at large, but two thirds of his Empire had been occupied. Most species would have given up by this time, especially when they knew that their opponents were not genocidal maniacs, or slavers. The Fenri were a proud species, and were willing to do whatever it took to salvage that pride.

  “So, what are we going to do, sir?” he asked his superior, hoping for some kind of answer that would save the system.

  “I’m thinking about coming in on them from VII and launching our hyper missiles at them,” said Francois in a tone that argued that he didn’t think that was going to work.

  Zhukov had to agree. His ship only had ten hyper capable missiles aboard, the light cruiser sixteen. So they could fire twenty six missiles, that had to jump at a maximum of point three light, and used a good percentage of their crystal matrix battery power in jumping through dimensions. A quick link with the computer showed that at maximum range they would get at most a velocity of point six light out of the missiles. Twenty-five missiles coming in at point six light might work against the light cruiser by itself. Against a battle cruiser? Not a chance, unless they had an unusual run of luck.

  “And if we do that, we have nothing to contribute to long range fire when we finally attack with our reinforcements,” said Zhukov.

  “That’s why I’m leaning toward not bothering,” said the other officer. “Our missiles will be much more effective coming in as part of the mass fire of eleven ships, launched from hyper VI, than just our ships on their own. Still, it’s hard to sit back and do nothing.”

  Zhukov agreed. It would be hard to watch a system destroyed, but there really was nothing they could do, except continue to dog the enemy force, and lead the other hunters to them.

  * * *

  “We are a two minutes away from jump to normal space, sir,” said the Bridge Manager to the Commander of the Imperial Fenri battle cruiser Grottes Fang.

  T
he Commander, one Lord of a Million Granis Feneris, looked up from his meal and motioned for this Lassra slave to clear the dishes. The diminutive furred sentient bowed low, then started to efficiently remove the multiple plates that had delivered the Lord’s lunch.

  “I will be up in a moment, Manager,” he told his second in command. “I will have a look at the system before we fire. Understood”

  “Yes, sir,” said the Manager, who, as a low ranked noble himself, did not have to use the honorific Lord.

  Grottes Fang was approaching the point two-seven light translation speed that was her maximum. She had already jumped down through the levels, accelerating after translation, then decelerating again to jump, transiting the levels of hyper at the fastest possible rate. Her consort, the light cruiser Falatta, was alongside. With the two human ships following, he did not want his second ship to risk separation from his flag, as the enemy might be able to isolate her and take her out. He could see a time coming when he might need her as a scout and decoy again, if he could get rid of his shadows. As long as they stayed in hyper VII he did not see how he could do that. Still, things could happen to surprise, and he was waiting for such a thing to occur.

  The Lord walked onto the bridge, all of the commoners jumping to their feet on his arrival, the few noble born bowing their heads in a lesser show of respect. Toward the front of the spacious bridge was the holo tank, now showing a tactical view of the space around him.

  The ship was spacious to his kind, as they were barely over a meter tall, and a mere two thousand Fenri manned the vessel. There were a thousand slaves, most larger than the masters, but they took up little room, crammed as they were into the minimal space needed to keep them healthy.

  “Jumping now,” called out the Driver, manipulating the controls that brought the ship back into normal space. The lights dimmed for a moment as the short lived wave of nausea swept through the crew. Fenri were easy translators, and the only sign most showed was a quick grimace. And then they were in normal space, skirting the hyper barrier of the system, on a course that would carry them around that barrier, allowing them to jump back to hyper as soon as they had taken care of their business here.

  The K class star was centered on the viewer, the inhabited planet blinking on the holo. There were actually two images of the planet. The green image showed where the planet was located by visual scan from two light hours away. The red image was based on the graviton signature of the planet, slightly ahead of the visual. Also coming up almost instantly were the graviton signatures of two small system defense frigates. He wondered why those ships hadn’t stopped boosting, cutting their graviton emissions. They must have known the Fenri were coming. He also wondered if there were more ships in the system, but dismissed that notion.

  In the databanks of the battle cruiser was information on almost all of the systems of the New Terran Empire. Taken from a captured human ship during the campaign that took out the Empire, it was the most important intelligence bonanza of the battle, giving the raiders the targeting information they needed to choose the best targets.

  The Fenri had no illusions about what they would accomplish with their raiders. Important systems were off limits, since the teams would find themselves facing defenses, including system defense squadrons, that would have no trouble taking them out. But minor systems? The whole rationale of this mission was revenge, and nothing else. They would destroy human frontier systems while taking out shipping, military and civilian, of opportunity.

  “All targets locked in, Lord,” announced the Master of Battle, she who ran the offensive and defensive systems of the warship.

  “Fire when ready.”

  The ship bucked slightly as it launched a spread of twenty missiles. Three heading toward each of the frigates, which would be up to over point nine light by the time they reached their targets. Those would probably be enough to kill the small ships, but if one or both survived, it was no big deal. Fourteen missiles were targeted on the planet and anything in orbit around it. They would be up to point nine-five light by the time they reached the planet. Five of those missiles would more or less wreck the planet, ten would kill all life down to the level of microbes.

  Revenge, thought the Lord of Millions with a satisfied smile. “Prepare to jump back into hyper,” he ordered. “Set course for the next target.”

  “And our shadows?” asked the Manager.

  “They can do nothing. And if we happen upon more enemy warships? Well, we will worry about that if it happens.”

  Chapter Six

  Humans have both the urge to create and destroy.

  Hayao Miyazaki

  NATION OF NEW EARTH SPACE, AUGUST 27TH, 1002

  “We’re picking up hyper tracks, ma’am,” called out the Sensor Tech on the small bridge of the Klavarta frigate.

  “How many?” asked the commander of the small warship, which was actually one of the larger classes of ships used by the Klavarta. All members of the bridge crew were of the Pilot subspecies, genetically optimized to live and operate spaceships. They weren’t the only subspecies aboard. There also were many of the two engineering subspecies, and a contingent of the warrior subspecies that were used for shipboard actions.

  “I’m having a lot of trouble picking up individual signs,” said the Tech. “There are just too many of them.”

  The Commander’s eyes widened at that. She was up and out of her chair in a moment, taking three quick steps to reach the sensor station. The Tech had a holo overhead, but was staring at the sine wave of the approaching ships, something a skilled tech could read as well as a video image. The Commander was not quite as proficient at that skill, so concentrated instead on the holo, which showed a representation of what was moving through space.

  “Not coming at us,” she said in a soft tone, looking at the now hundreds of icons moving across the representation. “Send it to the main viewer.”

  The Tech nodded and did as commanded, and a moment later the three dimensional viewer showed a larger representation of what the Commander had been looking at. More icons were entering the plot by the second. It looked like a major force was on the move. So now they needed to figure out what the objective was.

  “Zoom out the plot, and show me their most likely track.”

  The view zoomed out, and the line of their course showed that they were on a direct heading toward one of the central systems of the Klavarta industrial complex. There really weren’t that many of them, since the Klavarta strategy had always been to not put their assets out in the open where they could be taken out. The greater part of that industry was spread out over thousands of minor stars, but there was still a need for some major nodes to accept the production of those other systems. The one the enemy was heading toward, Camelot, was one of the largest shipbuilding concerns in the Nation. Its loss would have serious repercussions for the fighting ability of the Klavarta.

  “Send a grav pulse to the other ships up the line,” she ordered her Com Tech. “We need to let Camelot know what’s coming their way, so they can act accordingly.”

  “They’ll know we’re here,” cautioned the Com Tech.

  “We can’t help that,” replied the Commander, looking at the face of the Com Tech, which was a mask of fear. “That’s what we’re here for.”

  The Tech nodded and started to send the message. Grav pulse com was an old technology, but was still effective at transmitting messages through medium range. The small ship carried a wave generator that sent out the pulses of a Morse type code that was detectable for up to a tenth of a light year. Being a slow transmit digital code, the messages were by necessity sparse, with about a sentence transmitted each minute. The Klavarta tended to use small ships, forty thousand ton attack ships, eighty thousand ton raiders, one hundred thousand ton destroyers, one hundred and eighty thousand ton light cruisers, and a small number of larger cruisers. This allowed them to flood space with a large net of ships as a kind of sensor network, and grav pulse tech let them send informati
on at high speed between locations tens of light years apart.

  A little under a tenth of a light year away another ship repeated the pulse, which was repeated by all the ships that could pick up its signal. In less than an hour Camelot would know what was headed its way. What they could do about it was another question.

  “We have enemy ships changing vectors,” called out the Sensor Tech. “I think they’re trying to come after us.”

  “Stop transmitting our pulse,” ordered the Commander. “Let’s become a hole in space.”

  She didn’t think the enemy would find them. The Cacas would have to try and locate them within a large sphere of normal space, and since they weren’t in hyper, giving off the signal that every vessel produced in the higher dimensions, a ship coming for them was likely to drop into an area light minutes to hours from them. Camelot was not as fortunate.

  * * *

  “The first source has stopped transmitting, my Lord,” reported the Staff Intelligence Officer.

  “Excellent,” said Great Admiral Mgananawan K’lantariana, smiling as he looked at the tactical plot. His own force, eight thousand warships and supporting vessels, was still six days from their target. Time enough for the enemy to gather a powerful force, enough to give him a battle, though he didn’t intend to give them more than enough fight to make them overconfident.

  “Make sure the couriers are dispatched back to the other force,” he ordered. This was the most critical part of the plan, locating the enemy picket and making sure that his follow up force of seven thousand ships was not spotted. Those ships were a day behind, moving through hyper VI where their hyper signal would only be detectable a quarter of the distance of his main force in VII.

  Now that force would be apprised of the point where they would have to stop and drop back into normal space without detection. And he would know that point as well, and know where to lead his pursuit. It was still a risky plan, but if it worked he would destroy a significant portion of the enemy fleet. And that would make the rest of the campaign so much easier.