Imperial Command

by D. J. Holmes

  “Scott is signaling. The rest of the Karacknid ships are pulling back,” one of Argyll’s COM officers reported.

  “Acknowledge her message,” Lightfoot responded. “Begin rescue operations. I want as many of our people picked up as possible.” Nine ships had been taken out by Karacknid missiles. At least four more were drifting in space. He suspected they would have to be scuttled. But he didn’t intend to leave anyone else behind on this mission. “The way home is clear,” he said to his bridge officers. “Let’s mop up what remains of the enemy fleet and get out of here. I for one am eager to see Earth again.”

  “As am I Admiral,” Captain Rivers responded. “The way is clear thanks to you.” He began to clap and the rest of the bridge officers joined him. One or two shouted ‘Hurrah.’

  Lightfoot waved at Rivers to cease. Inwardly he was relieved that they had dealt with the Karacknid fleet so efficiently. But ships had been lost and thousands were dead. Now was not the time to celebrate. “See to your duties,” he ordered the bridge officers. “You have comrades out there who are still stranded.”

  Lightfoot watched as they destroyed the remaining Karacknid ships that were in range of the heavy plasma cannons. Then he laid out a new course for his fleet and sent it to his COM officer. “Transmit these coordinates to Scott, Gar’am and Jil’lal,” he ordered. “Oh and tell them well done.” He would tell them so in person, but they deserved to have the praise transmitted so that their officers could hear it as well. In his head Lightfoot did the math. Over the last two hours their maneuvers had resulted in the destruction of sixty Karacknid warships for the price of nine of his own. Probably five more would have to be scuttled, but if they had been closer to Earth they would be salvageable. Nine for the price of sixty, Lightfoot thought. That’s not bad. He was tempted to bask in the accomplishment. His officers would only admire him more because of what they had just done. One thing kept him firmly grounded. Given the massive numerical advantage the Karacknid empire had over Humanity and the Varanni Alliance, they would need to keep on winning battles with a similar loss ratio to stand any chance in the ensuing war. That is, if there’s anything to even return home for. They still didn’t know if their attack on Jaranna had caused any disruption to the Karacknid invasion of Alliance Space. For all his fleet knew, they could return to Earth to find that the Alliance had fallen and Earth was next. Looking at the joy on his officers’ faces, Lightfoot had no intention of reminding them of that just yet. They can enjoy their victory for a few hours at least.

  Chapter 5

  Warship design has changed much over the last half century. Advances in artificial intelligence have vastly reduced the crew numbers required to maintain and fight an Imperial warship. Yet both Human commanders and engineers are still as essential as they ever were. A.I. cannot replace the intuition that gives our species its edge.

  -Excerpt from Empire Rising, 3002 AD.

  IS Argyll, 10th August 2482 AD (twelve days later).

  As he had done at each of the previous four systems over the last twelve days, Lightfoot made sure he was on the bridge as Argyll exited shift space. Now that his fleet had escaped the Karacknid empire, they were racing home as fast as possible. He had done away with his more cautionary approach of sending scouts into each new system ahead of his fleet. That didn’t mean he had completely abandoned all restraint. It was possible they could bump into a Karacknid patrol. That was why he had his ships at battle stations.

  Moments after the jolt from Argyll exiting shift space, alarms blared. Instinctively he gripped the armrest of his command chair tighter. His eyes darted to the holo- projector to see what had set off the computer’s automatic warnings. For a split-second doubt threatened to well up and dominate his emotions. If he had led his ships into a trap… Relief washed over him as just two contacts appeared on the holo projector. They were both heading away from his ships deeper into the system. As he released his grip, more data appeared from Argyll’s passive sensors. There were orbital stations around the system’s third gas giant. A number of ships were maneuvering in and out of orbit. He glanced at his Chief of Staff. “Varanni star maps have no record of a civilization inhabiting this system?” he asked. Though he had carefully vetted his chosen route many times, he wanted to be sure.

  Houston shook her head. “No Admiral. There should be nothing here.”

  Lightfoot nodded. That and the fact that the stations were around the gas giant meant one thing. It was a Karacknid installation. Those two ships probably came here with news of our presence, he figured. His gaze returned to the two contacts and studied them more closely. There was no way his ships could catch them. Though they had been close enough to detect his ships’ exit from shift space. “All right,” he said loud enough for his staff officers to hear. “They know we are here. Take us towards the next shift passage. Maximum acceleration. Let’s see how they react.”

  As the ships began to move, Lightfoot mentally crossed his fingers. Whatever the Karacknids were doing this close to Human space, it wasn’t good. If they had a fleet stationed here, his ships weren’t going to make it home. Even if they didn’t, he was not feeling confident. “The Karacknids must be planning another invasion of our space. This has to be a forward staging base,” he said as he looked over to Rivers. “Even as they’ve been invading Alliance space they’ve be planning to hit us again.” He looked back to the holo projector. The question was, just how prepared were they?

  Ten minutes later Lightfoot found his confidence growing. Initial scans of the Karacknid forces suggested that they had no more than twenty warships. There were at least thirty freighters and a lot of construction work was ongoing, but the Karacknids did not yet have a fleet stationed in the system. “What about orbital defenses?” Lightfoot asked.

  “It looks like they have these two stations here,” his tactical officer answered as he zoomed in the holo- projection. “They’re both class III defense stations. Each one is the size of a battlecruiser.”

  Lightfoot nodded and stared at the images of the Karacknid stations and ships. It would take his ships another month and a half to reach Earth. Likely, it would take at least another two months for a sizeable force to be sent back here to attempt to destroy the Karacknid staging planet. By then they could have hundreds of ships protecting the gas mining station and the supply depots they had under construction built. “Signal the fleet,” Lightfoot said. “Inform our crews they have one more battle to fight before we can head home. We need to stop this Karacknid invasion plan before it gets going.” When his COM officer acknowledged his words Lightfoot turned to Houston. “The fleet will change course, put us on an intercept trajectory for the gas giant. We’re going to destroy everything they have in orbit.”

  “Aye Admiral,” Houston replied. She turned to the rest of her officers and barked orders.

  As the ships drew closer to the Karacknid forces, Lightfoot prioritized targets for his fleet’s first missile salvo. He wanted to destroy the two orbital battlestations and as many of the Karacknid cruisers as he could. With no dreadnoughts or battleships among the Karacknid fleet, there was a chance he could take out his primary targets with his first salvo. If so, the battle would be all but over. Though his focus was on the military installations, he couldn’t help but be impressed with the other stations the Karacknids had built. There were actually three gas mining stations and more than twenty depots. There was no way to tell how long the Karacknids had been building up the system, but given how few warships were stationed here, Lightfoot guessed it couldn’t have been much longer than six months.

  “They have committed a lot of resources to this system,” Rivers said, seemingly reading Lightfoot’s thoughts.

  “Yes,” Lightfoot agreed. “It would seem they intend to finish what they started at Earth.”

  “We are the first species to ever turn back one of their invasion fleets,” Rivers said proudly. “I guess they don’t intend to underestimate us twice.”

  “The only species
to beat them back, as far as we know,” Lightfoot reminded Rivers. If it had happened before there was no record of it. Of course, almost nothing was known about the history of the Karacknid empire. There is no historical record, or no living evidence of it, Lightfoot thought. If the Karacknids had been beaten before it was entirely possible they had returned to nuke their enemies out of existence. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the supply depots. Whether the Karacknids were planning a second nuclear strike or simply a complete conquest of Human space, it looked like they were committing heavily to the task. And if the Alliance has already fallen, they’ll be able to use all their forces against us… Cheer up, he told himself after a moment. At least if his fleet destroyed their base now, it would delay their attack by several months. Several months probably wouldn’t change anything, but it was something.

  For another hour, his fleet continued into the system towards their targets. The Karacknids didn’t appear to do very much. The freighters closed with the orbital battlestations and huddled close together for mutual support. The twenty-four warships formed up into a tight formation between the two battlestations. “They’re not going to run,” Rivers commented when the fleet was just ten minutes away from entering missile range. “They’ll all die here.”

  “The Karacknids have proven one thing over the last several months,” Lightfoot replied. “They are brave. Foolhardy, but brave.” If the enemy commander had so chosen, he could have pulled back with his freighters and warships. It would have given Lightfoot a choice between destroying the orbital stations or chasing down the Karacknid freighters. It seemed that wasn’t the choice he was going to have to worry about.

  “Make sure every ship is prepared to open fire as soon as we come…” Lightfoot was cut off by one of Argyll’s sensor officers.

  “We’ve got movement!” the officer shouted in alarm.

  Lightfoot’s eyes widened at what unfolded on the holo projection. The thirty Karacknid freighters were all moving away from the orbital battlestations. In their wake, they left behind a bunch of new contacts. Dreadnoughts, battlecruisers, and heavy cruisers all powered up their reactors and engines. They had been hiding behind the freighters in stealth! Lightfoot had been fooled. He thought the two Karacknid ships Argyll had detected monitoring the system had been bringing news of his arrival. In reality, the Karacknid commander had known he was coming for far longer. They had prepared a warm welcome for him. It’s caught up with you, he thought. So many times before he had fooled the Karacknids with one trick or another. Now it had caught up with him. They had turned the tables. For several seconds he stared at the new Karacknid ships. Alone, they had enough missiles to go toe to toe with his fleet. With a shake of his head, he tried to clear his surprise. He needed to think clearly. “Begin deceleration burns immediately! The fleet will veer up and right towards the mass shadow. Switch targets, focus our fire on their light ships. Their faster ships will be sent to snap at our heels if we don’t take them out now.”

  As Argyll’s bridge broke into pandemonium Lightfoot looked back to the Karacknid fleet. He swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. After months traveling through Karacknid space he had thought his fleet almost home. Now they were about to face the most devastating missile salvo yet. His gaze turned to his own ships. Though they were decelerating hard, their momentum was still carrying them almost straight towards the Karacknid fleet. He had managed to bring seventy-two back from the raid on Jaranna. Admiral Gupta had given her life to make sure he got them home. Closing his eyes, Lightfoot tried to fight down the feeling that he had failed her. So many of them were about to be destroyed. Just as he felt he was getting his emotions under control; new alarms forced his eyes open. The Karacknid fleet had fired! One thousand two hundred missiles were charging straight towards his ships. When he looked down from the plot of the enemy missiles, he found most of Argyll’s officers staring at him. For a second he hesitated, then he forced himself to do the only thing he knew, he gave out orders. “Push all our frigates and destroyers ahead of the fleet. They are to form an additional point defense field of fire. Have every Captain prepare evasive maneuvers. Make sure it is shared with the ships around them. I don’t want any accidental collisions. Every ship has authorization to release every single drone they have. Make sure every one of them is programmed as a decoy.” He glanced back at the holo-projection as the trajectory of his ships continued to update. “We only have to survive one salvo,” he said to his officers. “Then our momentum will take us out of range. Just one salvo. I know we can do it!”

  Several officers nodded, others stared for a couple of seconds as expressions of grim determination settled on their faces, then they turned back to their command consoles as well. Lightfoot raised his eyes back to the holo projection and clenched his teeth. If they wanted to stare any longer, they would only see quiet confidence from him.

  Though his ships opened fire ten seconds later, Lightfoot barely registered it. He was focused on the Karacknid missiles. As they entered range of his fleet’s point defenses, every weapon, including the ships’ heavy lasers, plasma cannons and forward missile tubes opened fire. Hundreds of Karacknid missiles were taken out. The number on one of Argyll’s secondary projectors dwindled but it was quickly evident to Lightfoot that it wasn’t decreasing by nearly enough. He was caught off-guard when Argyll began evasive maneuvers and he was thrown around in his command chair. Then explosions detonated among his ships. So many missiles released balls of anti-matter that Lightfoot lost count. More ships were blown apart than he could keep track of. More alarms made his head swing around. He wasn’t the only bridge officer to turn to another secondary holo projector. The alarms were what every officer feared. Missiles were targeting Argyll! Two were just seconds out. One was taken out by a flak cannon round. The other got so close it disappeared from the sensor feed. Lightfoot felt and heard Argyll scream in agony as her innards were twisted and wiped out of existence by the Karacknid antimatter. He was thrown back and forth in his command chair so hard that his head flung black and struck his neck rest despite his restraints. A piercing pain shot through him. Suddenly his eyelids felt like lead. Twice he blinked, fighting to keep his eyes open, then the pain and darkness overtook him. The last thing Lightfoot saw on the holo projection was more and more explosions erupting among his ships. His last thoughts were that Argyll was doomed. His fleet was doomed. He had failed Gupta and Earth. Then everything went black.

  Chapter 6

  There are many ways to subjugate a conquered foe. Earth’s history alone shows this. The Assyrians slaughtered those whom they subjugated. The Babylonians translocated people from their ancestral homes; and the Romans raised up local rulers to rule in their stead. The Karacknids employed a fourth strategy; they made their subjects so dependent on them, rebellion was an impossibility.

  -Excerpt from Empire Rising, 3002 AD.

  Badminton House, England, 26th September 2482 AD (6 weeks later).

  James gently stroked the bark of his seat. Carved out of a fallen tree trunk, it fit his form perfectly. Often in the past, when sat in this very spot, James imagined who had originally made it. One of his ancestors had likely requested it. Or perhaps an industrious groundsman had carved it in the hope of pleasing his employer. Normally he also enjoyed the sound of the wind rustling in the trees along the riverbank and the quiet babbling as the fast-flowing stream rushed over its rocky bottom. None of those things held James’ attention now. Instead, he found himself staring blankly at the stream. The repetitive ripples on its surface made his mind drift and he was unaware of the passage of time.

  “There you are,” a soft voice said as a hand rested on his shoulder. “I’ve had a couple of servants out looking for you.” As she spoke, Christine moved around from behind James and squished herself onto the seat beside him. She picked up a small twig, threw it upstream and quietly watched it float down past them. “I’d ask you what’s on your mind, but I think I can guess.” She turned to look James in the eye. “
Gupta?”

  James nodded and turned back to the stream. “They’re months overdue,” he said eventually. “Captain Winters said he expected Gupta and her ships to be days behind him at most. It’s been months.”

  Christine reached over, took one of James’ hands and gave it a tender squeeze. Captain Winters had commanded the freighters and damaged ships Admiral Gupta had sent home from Jaranna before her planned ambush of a Karacknid convoy. Gupta’s faster warships should have been able to ambush the convoy and catch up with Winters before the fleet supply squadron had made it back to Earth. They hadn’t. “I’m sure an officer with your experience can think of a thousand horrible things that might have happened to them,” Christine said as she squeezed James’ hand again. “But equally,” she continued as she reached up with her other hand and turned his chin towards hers, “I’m sure you can think of a thousand good reasons why they’ve been delayed. Perhaps they found a new target to attack? Perhaps they decided to push deeper into Karacknid territory? Perhaps they decided to fall back towards Alliance space rather than here? We simply don’t know.”