Imperial Command

by D. J. Holmes

  *

  Calcutta, New Delhi, 19th November 2482 AD (five days later).

  Five days, but certainly not five nights worth of sleep later a very tired James struggled to keep his eyes open. He was sitting in a school gymnasium watching as a long line of Indians slowly made their way to the voting booths. Sitting on either side of him were members of the diplomatic delegations from the Canadian colony of Baffin and the Argentinian colony of Lafonia. He had invited members from all the diplomatic delegations to attend as many of the voting stations as they had people to send. For on this day, all across New Delhi, the entire population of the colony was voting in the referendum that would decide their future.

  In front of James and the two diplomats, a non-commissioned officer from Drake, several teachers from the school, a couple of firefighters and a policewoman were overseeing the actual voting. Each citizen of the colony who wanted to vote had a small mark lasered into their wrist to show that they had voted. The mark would only last a short time, nevertheless it was impossible to hide or alter. It had been the simplest and safest way James and his staff officers had come up with to make sure no one was able to vote twice.

  “Well,” James said as he leaned towards Jennifer Barker, the lead Canadian diplomat. “Have you any complaints?” The look he received in return would cut glass. But that was all she did. No words of anger or accusations followed. She’s hedging her bets, James was sure. If the results of the referendum meant New Delhi had decided not to join the Empire, no doubt she would have a lot to say. One thing she couldn’t bring up were allegations of foul play. Both her and her staff had their own recording devices and James had allowed them to gather as much evidence as they wanted. If there were going to be any allegations of the vote being rigged, Barker would not be able to claim he kept her in the dark. Everything was being done openly for all to see.

  With hours yet before the vote was finished, James moved from side to side in his chair to get more comfortable. He wanted to close his eyes and take a nap, the last five days had been even more hectic than he had feared, yet he couldn’t. He needed to see things through. When the vote was over he would finally be able to get some proper rest, but not until then. A small amount of movement in the corner of his eye made James twist his head. When he met the gaze of the marine standing guard out of sight of the voters, he smiled. Johnston had insisted Private Magee be assigned to protect James. Thankfully, Magee, Bronson and Rodriguez had appeared hours after the governor’s residence had been taken. After escaping the militia raid on the safe house, the three marines had slipped out of the city and hidden themselves in a nearby forest. James had been glad to learn of their survival and he was happy to have a special forces marine watching his back.

  Turning back to the voting, James decided to count the number of people passing through the booths. It was just about the last thing he had to keep his mind busy. By the time he got to two hundred and thirty-six he gave up. It was just making him sleepier. Instead he allowed his mind to drift as he wondered what Christine, Lightfoot, Rivers, and the rest were up to.

  Just over four hours later, James sat up. He hadn’t noticed, but the queue of Indians wanting to vote had dwindled. No more new voters were arriving. Twenty minutes later and the last voter left. With everything being done by paper so that no one could accuse him of tampering with election devices, the votes still had to be counted. Many of those assisting in the voting station had already begun the process. Standing, James moved to where the votes were being sorted into two piles. “How is it coming?” he asked one of the Indians.

  “We reckon we have over thirty thousand votes here Admiral. We’ve been sorting them in piles of hundreds. These are yes votes, and the no are over here,” the teacher responded.

  James couldn’t help but smile. If he was looking at two piles that came to thirty-three thousand votes, less than a fifth had to be in the no pile. “I’d say that’s pretty conclusive, wouldn’t you?” James asked as he turned to Barker. She had followed him over to see what he was doing.

  “If the people of New Delhi wish to join your Empire, then I will not stand in their way. But you cannot threaten Baffin. We will not bow down to violence like Culthrapori has,” Barker responded.

  James turned and fixed her with an unwavering stare. “You may have been able to claim ignorance about what Culthrapori was up to before our arrival. But you cannot do so any longer. If I find out that you or anyone else was complicit in his crimes, justice will come for you. No matter what world you call your birthplace. I have no desire to force Baffin or any other colony to do anything against their will. But I will not stand by and let tyrants persecute and kill their own people. Not when we have a far greater enemy that we should be fighting.” Before Barker could reply, James turned and marched out of the voting station. Magee followed right behind. “Let’s take a shuttle back to the governor’s residence,” James said. “If the voting has gone the same everywhere else, then I need to talk to General Johnston.”

  By the time James got on his shuttle and flew to the governor’s residence to find Johnston, many of the voting stations had reported their numbers. “It looks like the vote has passed with flying colors,” Johnston said with a smile as James walked into the office he had converted into his command and control center. “I guess that means congratulations are in order Admiral. You have overseen your first successful solo election. Fairfax and Christine would be proud…” Johnston trialed off as his face hardened. Then he tried to cover it up with humor. “Though I suspect they’ll take a little convincing that you actually pulled it off.”

  James returned Johnston’s smile. He added what he knew Johnston had been thinking. “So would Suzanna if she were here. But I imagine she would immediately have claimed all the credit.”

  Johnston chuckled. “Aye, that she would have,” he said as the tension on his face eased.

  “I’m glad you’re in such a good mood,” James said. “It makes what I’m about to say even more enjoyable for me… I’m leaving you in charge. I’ll be taking Drake back to Earth. Now that Culthrapori has been dealt with and the referendum has gone in our favor, I’m no longer needed.”

  “Me?” Johnston said as he sat up straighter. “Can’t I go back with you?”

  James smiled again as he shook his head. “New Delhi has just voted to join the Empire. They need to hold elections to vote for their Senators and members of the House of Commons, never mind electing their own Governor and Colonial Senate. They need someone to hold the reins until all those elections can be sorted out. Someone to make sure they are free and fair. Not to mention there are still a few groups of militia lingering out there. Someone needs to keep an eye on them as well. I’m needed back on Earth. There is an enemy invasion force that we need to confront. Unless things go horribly wrong, we’re not going to need a General for another couple of months yet. We can spare you until things get more settled.”

  “But…” Johnston said without adding anything more.

  James’ smile widened. “Exactly, there’s no good argument you can make. You’re a ground commander,” James said as he waved his hand to take in Calcutta. “This is a planet. My responsibilities lie out there,” he continued as he pointed towards space. “This is the most logical division of labor. I intend to depart tomorrow if at all possible. I’ll make sure my staff officers have yours fully briefed before we go.” James winked at Johnston. “Besides, it’s time you started to get some political experience yourself. Who knows how your Emperor might ask you to serve in the future?” As Johnston’s mouth fell open, James turned before the General could see his smile break out into a grin. As he walked away, James allowed his mind to leave New Delhi and think about his return to Earth. In the week and half he had been in the New Delhi system no news had come for him. Hopefully, that meant nothing noteworthy had happened but there was no way to be sure. He desperately wanted to get back to Earth to find out what was going on and focus on the real problem. Whatever Baffin and the
other colonies which had been contemplating joining Culthrapori would do now, he intended to leave that in someone else’s hands. It was time for him to get back to his real work.

  Chapter 25

  In the early years of the Empire a naval commander often struggled with information deficiency. Far from home, such commanders were often acting on information that was weeks or months old. Today, with FTL communicators on most capital ships, information overload is now the issue commanders must learn to overcome.

  -Excerpt from Empire Rising, 3002 AD.

  IS Stalwart, 20th November 2482 AD (one day later).

  We are finally here, Commodore Rivers said to himself as he felt his shoulders and back stiffen. His battlecruiser had just exited shift space on the outer edge of Depot Alpha-one. It had been three months since he had fled from the Karacknids in this system in disgrace. Now he was back. Outwardly, he was doing his best to portray an air of confidence. Inwardly it was another matter. He knew the enemy commander was good. He had beaten Rivers once before, he feared it could happen again. Taking a deep breath he steadied his emotions. Worrying wasn’t going to do him any good. He had a plan, and he had to stick to it. At least until the situation forced him from it.

  “Any change in the inner system?” he asked his bridge and staff officers. An hour ago he had sent a destroyer in to scout ahead of his squadron. Its findings had been concerning, but not unexpected. The Karacknids were expanding their orbital infrastructure within the system. Several more stations and a repair yard were easily recognizable. In addition, at least thirty more ships had joined the system’s garrison.

  “It doesn’t look like it, Commodore,” one of Stalwart’s sensor officers replied. “Passives are not picking up any ships moving beyond those patrolling in close around the planet.”

  “Very good,” Rivers responded. “We’ll wait here awhile all the same and make sure. Send word to Wing Commander Chen. He may begin final preparations for his attack. Inform him we will begin our operation in thirty minutes if nothing changes.”

  “Aye Commodore,” Rivers’ COM officer acknowledged.

  “Alright,” Rivers said five minutes later. Stalwart’s passive sensors still hadn’t detected anything out of the ordinary. “Let’s start the squadron moving. Set course for the twelfth planet. Two percent thrust. Begin deploying our insurance policy in thirty minutes.”

  “How do you think the additional Karacknid warships factor into our attack plan?” Harvey Ross, Stalwart’s Captain, asked quietly as he leaned over the armrest of his command chair towards Rivers.

  Rivers bit his lower lip as he thought through the question. No doubt his tactical officers, Wing Commander Chen and his people were already crunching the numbers, but Ross wanted his gut feeling. “It’s going to make it more difficult,” he said as he turned to Ross. “Our losses will be higher of course. But I believe in our pilots, they will get the job done.”

  Ross nodded. “My thoughts exactly.” He turned back to the main holo display of the inner system. “All the same, I wouldn’t want to be one of them. We are going to owe them a great debt.”

  “Indeed,” Rivers said with emotion as he followed Ross’s gaze. He had already lost many friends and subordinates within the system. Now he was about to order many more to their deaths. Every single pilot was a volunteer, but he knew that fact would not make it any easier for him to give the order to send them in.

  “We’re ten minutes out from the launch point,” Rivers’ Chief of Staff informed him a short time later.

  Rivers took a deep breath. “Are they ready to go?”

  His Chief nodded. “Chen reports all his pilots are in their craft.”

  “Very well, open a COM channel to them all for me,” Rivers replied.

  “It’s open in two seconds Commodore,” his COMs officer informed him.

  “Pilots,” Rivers began, adopting a solemn tone without having to consciously think about it. “You are about to embark on one of the most important missions of your lives. For many of you, it will also be your last. You know what’s at stake today. We do not have the fleet numbers to contest this system. Yet if we do not stop the Karacknids from building up their infrastructure here, they will use this system as a base from which to conquer every single one of our colonies. That is why we are here, why you are here. You represent the most powerful strike force we can put together. Succeed today and we will buy ourselves the breathing space we need. Fail, and whatever losses we suffer will be insignificant compared to what the Karacknids will do to our friends and family. Go knowing that our species looks to you today. We have placed our hope in you. Do not let us down. Whatever it takes, whatever it costs, you must not fail.”

  Sitting back in his command chair, Rivers let out a sigh as his officer ended the COM channel. He was not one for making eloquent speeches, he knew that. But he could not let his pilots go to almost certain death without saying something. “Give the launch order,” he commanded as he looked over to his Chief of Staff. He had said his piece, now it was over to the pilots.

  *

  Wing Commander Chen listened to Rivers’ words with closed eyes. As the Commodore spoke of friends and family Chen’s mind went to his wife and son. They were safe back in Hunan province. He still thought it was pure luck their city hadn’t been nuked by the Karacknids when so many others had. Chen had fought in the battle of Earth. From his fighter he had been forced to watch helplessly as the nukes had rained down on Chinese cities. At the time it had been impossible to tell which ones had been hit. It was not hard for him to imagine what could happen to his family if the Karacknids broke through to Earth once again. That was why he was sitting in his Spitfire on board Enterprise. As the Wing Commander of Rivers’ squadron, he commanded the entire fighter force as well as leading Boxer Squadron. All the pilots were volunteers, most were single without any families. They had all known the risks involved in this mission. It had been made very plain to them from the beginning. Even so, Chen had volunteered. The fighter force needed experienced leaders, and Chen knew his worth. I will come back to you, he promised the images of his wife and son as they floated around in his mind. I will.

  “This is Enterprise flight control,” Chen’s flight officer said over the COM channel, pulling Chen from his thoughts. “We are a go for launch. All fighters launch, launch, launch.”

  As he always did, Chen rolled his shoulders and wiggled his fingers to loosen the tension from his upper body. Then he was flung back in the cockpit as his Spitfire was accelerated out of its launch tube. Easing back on his flight stick and maneuvering thruster controls, he slowed his fighter and put it into gentle curve up and around Enterprise. “All right Boxer Squadron, check in,” Chen requested. As the pilots sounded off, Chen glanced right and watched the Spitfires drop out of the underbellies of the six bulk carriers that were in formation with Enterprise and Ark Royal. Technically classed as carriers, they were really converted freighters. Without any ability to refuel or rearm their fighters, the carriers were essentially one-shot weapons. But then the entire mission was a one-shot mission so they fit in just fine. When the last Spitfires were released by the freighters, Chen switched COM channels to the Wing COM channel. “Squadron leaders, report ready?” he requested.

  All fourteen squadron leaders reported ready to go. “Form up on me,” Chen ordered. He twisted his flight stick to bank away from Enterprise. Gently he settled his Spitfire’s nose onto a trajectory aimed at the system’s only gas giant. The eleven Spitfires of his squadron followed him, then beside, around and above him the other squadrons slotted into their allotted positions. “You all heard Commodore Rivers,” Chen said to his pilots. “We’re only going to get one shot at this. Let’s make it count. We’re going to be under radio silence from here on in, but I just want to add one more thing. It has been an honor training and serving with you all. As long as some of us live, we will not be forgotten…” again Chen’s mind went to his family. “Engage engines in five, four, three, two, one.”
With the other one hundred and sixty-eight pilots in his Wing, Chen hit the button to begin the pre-planned acceleration burn. For two minutes his Spitfire accelerated at ten percent of its thrust. Then his engines shut down. His reactor followed suit moments later. Chen was left with only a trickle of energy from his Spitfire’s capacitor. It had to keep his life support and passive sensors working for the six hours it would take him to reach his target.

  Straining his neck, Chen turned and looked behind him. The huge form of Enterprise was nothing but a pinprick. Even as he watched, it faded into nothing as it passed beyond the point where his eyes could make it out. Turning back to look ahead he tried and failed to pick out the gas giant. It was still too far away. Closing his eyes, Chen decided the best thing he could do was try and get some rest. It was hard as his mind kept taking him back to Earth and the last time he had said goodbye to his family but eventually he drifted off.