Imperial Command

by D. J. Holmes

  “Karacknids are opening fire,” one of Constitution’s tactical officers announced. “Twelve hundred missiles incoming. They are all targeting the meteors.”

  “Send in the rest of the fighters,” Koroylov ordered. “Fire missiles when ready.” Though the bulk of Humanity’s fighters were with Admiral Somerville, Koroylov had forty-eight of his own. Seconds after they raced ahead of his ships, a thousand missiles erupted from his fleet.

  After seeing them on their way, Koroylov took a deep breath and, as he exhaled, forced himself to relax into his command chair. The stage was set. There was nothing more he could do. The next few minutes would be crucial. Seconds later alarms blared as the Karacknid missile salvo detonated among the wave of meteors and freighter fragments that were hurtling towards the depot. Thousands were taken out, but hundreds more remained. As soon as they came into range of the Karacknid defenders, point defense weapons designed to take out missiles opened up on them. Just as they did, Koroylov’s fighters caught up with the meteors. Zigzagging through the meteor fragments and dodging enemy fire they charged the Karacknid ships. In the midst of the fighting, the Karacknid ships and battlestations released a second salvo. At almost the same time, Koroylov’s ships did the same. Then everything started to lose cohesion in Koroylov’s mind.

  With their focus rightly shifted to the Human fighters, the Karacknids failed to destroy every meteor fragment. In the blink of an eye small explosions rippled across the Karacknid fleet as meteors struck them. Then larger miniature suns appeared as plasma missiles fired from the fighters struck home. Before Koroylov could see just what damage had been done, the Karacknid fleet disappeared as his own ships blanketed space with their point defenses. He knew his missiles were hitting home, but Constitution’s sensors couldn’t see through the wave of fire and explosions his point defenses were causing among the Karacknid missiles. Then far larger explosions erupted around Constitution. Koroylov knew his ships were dying to the Karacknid fire. Not far off Constitution’s port bow he saw the battlecruiser Agamemnon disappear as three antimatter missiles struck her. Seconds later, there was not even a fragment of debris from the massive ship. It had been completely wiped out of existence by the antimatter.

  Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the point defense fire ceased. Constitution’s sensors locked onto the Karacknid depot just in time for Koroylov to see his second missile salvo strike home. Nearly a third of the Karacknid ships looked to be destroyed or damaged. As two hundred missiles punched through their point defenses and released their laser beams, forty warships and half of the Karacknid battlestations disappeared. Koroylov just had time to give one final order before his ships, still hurtling towards their enemies, entered energy weapon range themselves. “Every shot!” he ordered Constitution’s bridge officers and gunners.

  Constitution’s sensors were all but blinded as explosions erupted throughout the Karacknid fleet and around Koroylov’s flagship. Two quick shunts threw Koroylov around in his command chair, telling him Constitution had been hit. A third caused the lights to momentarily dim before the emergency power kicked in. Even as alarms went off and damage alerts came in, Koroylov could still hear the low thrum of the battleship’s plasma cannons firing and the far higher pitched whine of laser cannons doing the same. Keeping his eyes fixed on the holo projection of the Karacknid fleet, he saw ship after ship detonate. He knew the same was happening to his own fleet, but he kept his focus on the Karacknids. They had to be wiped out.

  In just twenty seconds, every contact Constitution was able to detect disappeared in explosion after explosion. Then, in an instant, the maelstrom ended. Arcing up and over the rocky planet, Constitution and the survivors in Koroylov’s fleet passed out of line of sight of their targets. “I want a full analysis now,” Koroylov demanded of his staff officers. A glance at his Flag Captain told him Garcia had his hands full with Constitution’s damage.

  “All military targets destroyed Admiral,” Koroylov’s Chief of Staff informed him less than sixty seconds later. His tone was one of astonishment. “We did it. Every warship and battlestation is gone. Half the depots are still intact, but they are at our mercy.”

  “And our losses?” Koroylov asked, fully aware that that answer was not going to be as pleasing.

  “Thirty-four ships gone, at least ten more are crippled. Almost every other ship is reporting some kind of damage, most are still trying to figure out how bad it is,” another of his staff officers answered.

  “I have Admiral Danlien on a COM channel for you Admiral,” Koroylov’s COM officer reported.

  “I’ll speak to him now,” Koroylov replied. “How are your ships?” he asked the Varanni Admiral when his face appeared on Koroylov’s command chair’s holo projector.

  “We have taken losses Admiral Koroylov just as you have. But we have destroyed our enemy. Your plan worked well. I wish to congratulate you,” Danlien said as he gave Koroylov a bow.

  “It is our people who deserve the congratulations,” Koroylov responded. “And that will have to wait for later.”

  “You have orders for us?” Danlien asked.

  “Yes, our mission is only half complete after all,” Koroylov replied. “The ships that are able will make a second pass on the Karacknid depot. They can destroy whatever point defenses the remaining stations have and then launch marines to secure them. We may as well commandeer as much of the Karacknid supplies as we can make use of. The rest of our ships can head back to the system’s mass shadow and our support fleet. I’m guessing we’re going to have to tow some of the ships all the way back to Earth. But we need to get as many back into fighting trim as possible. If Karacknid reinforcements appear, we need to be ready to fight them off.”

  “That will be a tall task,” Danlien said, “but with what our ships have just accomplished today, one I think we will be up for.”

  Koroylov nodded. “Let’s make sure that they are.” After the COM channel ended, Koroylov glanced over at his Flag Captain.

  Garcia shook his head in response to Koroylov’s unspoken question. “We’ve lost the main and secondary energy conduits to our impulse engines. Chief Murphy estimates it will take three hours to jury rig something to get the engines working. It will take two or three days to actually fix the damage.”

  “All right, start transferring your marines over to one of the ships that can make the second attack,” Koroylov decided. “I’ll place Admiral Danlien in charge. You may as well arrange for one of our other ships to take us in tow. No doubt Murphy is going to need some of the spare parts we brought with us in the support fleet.”

  “Right away Admiral,” Garcia responded.

  As his staff officers and Constitution’s bridge officers busied themselves with the affairs of the fleet and their own ship, Koroylov took a moment to survey the battlefield. Half destroyed Karacknid and Alliance ships littered the rocky world’s orbitals. Here and there a bright flare from metallic objects burning up in the planet’s atmosphere was still visible. What had once been an impressive Karacknid depot base was no more. They will not be launching any more invasions of Earth from here any time soon, Koroylov thought with satisfaction. Give us a few months and we will start to have our own defense stations under construction. He knew the Alliance High Command were keen to extend their border fort worlds out to this system. If he could hold out long enough for more reinforcements to arrive, then any plans the Karacknids had to send a second fleet this way would have to be abandoned. Perhaps, for once things are going to go our way, he thought as his mind turned to Lightfoot and Somerville. Everything was riding on them accomplishing their missions.

  *

  IS Vengeance, 1st April 2483 AD (one week later).

  Lightfoot struggled and failed to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. Vengeance was just about to jump out of shift space into the Karacknid depot they had named Alpha-one. An hour ago the scouts he had sent forward had come back with news that the Karacknids didn’t appear to have received any reinforcements
. That was exactly the news he had been hoping for. And yet, Lightfoot still felt his nerves threatening to get the best of him. Glancing at his officers, he tried to see if they could tell. He couldn’t decide whether they could or not. Of course, if they could, they’d be hiding it from him anyway. Swallowing hard, he tightened his grip on his command chair as he awaited his ship’s exit from shift space. Even though the Karacknids had no extra warships and he had instructed his scouts to carefully check the point they would be jumping in from shift space, he still had doubts. The Karacknid commander in the system had fooled him once before. There was no guarantee it wasn’t going to happen again.

  Even though a part of Lightfoot wanted to leave Vengeance’s bridge and hand over command of the fleet to someone else, he forced himself to remain in his seat. Admiral Somerville’s words to him months ago still echoed in his ears. He knew he was a good commander. One defeat didn’t wipe out everything he had accomplished in his career. Despite his nerves and even hesitation, he desperately wanted to make amends for what had happened in this system eight months ago. The name of his flagship was exactly how he felt. Somerville had known what he was doing when he had picked the name and assigned it to him. I will have vengeance, Lightfoot said to himself to quell his nerves. I will defeat this Karacknid commander. Then these blasted butterflies will disappear.

  A slight jolt ran through the ship, telling Lightfoot Vengeance had exited shift space. His butterflies spiked. As the seconds ticked by and no surprise attack came, Lightfoot felt himself relax. Then, as Vengeance’s sensors updated to show the Karacknid depot exactly as his scouts had determined, he relaxed even more. “Send the order to Captain Diaz, he may begin his part of the plan,” Lightfoot said. “Have our ships reported in?”

  “All ships report ready to proceed Admiral,” Lightfoot’s Chief of Staff replied. “Admiral Jil’lal has signaled to say her ships are ready as well.”

  “Then we may proceed. Navigation, plot us a course around the Karacknid patrols and take us into the system,” Lightfoot ordered.

  Over the course of the next several hours, Lightfoot’s fleet of Human and Vestarian warships tiptoed into the system. When they were in position Lightfoot sent a covert signal to Captain Diaz. Then everyone on Vengeance’s bridge waited patiently for events to unfold. In his mind’s eye, Lightfoot imagined what Diaz was doing. Only four converted bulk carriers had been assigned to his fleet. Halfway across the system, they would all launch their ships and drones before turning and beginning their covert retreat. The twenty-four Spitfire fighters would slowly close with the Karacknid depot, with one small twist. Instead of avoiding the Karacknid patrols, they were going to skirt just close enough to one to be detected.

  Forty-five minutes after sending the signal Lightfoot sat forward in his command chair. The two Karacknid frigates Diaz had targeted had changed course. They carried out three more quick course corrections. Lightfoot shared a glance with his Chief of Staff and Flag Captain. The frigate’s actions were obviously a signal. The gravimetric waves from the frigate’s movements would be instantly picked up by the Karacknid fleet commander.

  Now, it’s time to see if you have any butterflies, he thought towards his opposite number. After Commodore Rivers’ raid on the Karacknid system four months ago, the Karacknids had to be expecting another attack. “We’ve got movement,” the sensor officer called out. “Forty ships are breaking orbit. They’re moving to intercept Diaz’s fighters.”

  Lightfoot smiled. His nerves had suddenly disappeared. “We’ll hold position,” he said in a predatory tone. The Karacknid commander was stepping right into his trap. No doubt in an effort to prevent another raid on his orbital stations, he was sending every warship he had that was a light cruiser or smaller out to intercept the fighters and drones Diaz had posing as additional fighters. During Rivers’ raid the Karacknid commander had only sent out his frigates, but they had been easily destroyed. In this case, if Diaz had been planning an actual raid, his force would have been decimated. That was not going to happen, however. When his Chief of Staff and Flag Captain looked over to him after several minutes, Lightfoot repeated himself. “We’ll hold,” he ordered. For five more minutes he stared at the approaching Karacknid ships. When he judged the time was right he gave a sharp nod. “Now! The fleet will advance!”

  Vengeance and the other eighty warships in Lightfoot’s fleet powered up their reactors and lit off their engines. At full military power, they charged into the flank of the Karacknid light ships. It took just five minutes to enter missile range and release a volley of nine hundred mark IV missiles. The Karacknids had already begun to decelerate, but it would not do them any good. Realizing that, they reformed into a much tighter formation and fired a volley of missiles of their own. Lightfoot could have released a second salvo of his own but he held back. One salvo was hopefully going to be enough.

  “They’re engaging our missiles now,” a sensor officer announced. Lightfoot was already watching the engagement on the main holo projector. At best, the forty Karacknid light ships could hope to take out six hundred of his missiles. Over the next fifteen seconds they didn’t even manage that many. With three hundred and fifty mark IVs left to detonate a light second out from the Karacknid ships; over a thousand laser beams smashed into the Karacknids. When the heat from the explosions dissipated into space, only five ships remained. Each was heavily damaged. Within a couple of minutes Diaz’s fighters rammed a plasma missile into each one, finishing them off.

  “And now for the main event,” Lightfoot said as he turned his attention to the Karacknid forces still defending the supply depot. The Karacknid fleet commander had six battleships, eight battlecruisers and twenty heavy and medium cruisers. Combined with the handful of small battlestations they were still going to cause a real problem for his fleet. But the numbers had dramatically swung in Lightfoot’s favor.

  Lightfoot’s eyes widened when the Karacknid ships in orbit started to maneuver. “What are they doi…” He started to ask but then it hit him. They were breaking orbit! “They’re retreating,” he said, though he could hardly believe it. “They’re abandoning their stations.” Looking around at his officers, Lightfoot saw that they were just as surprised. The Karacknids almost never retreated. Certainly not when it meant they would be leaving behind key real estate.

  As Lightfoot’s eyes settled on the battleship that was leading the Karacknid ships away he gained an even greater respect for his opponent. “They know they cannot defend their orbital stations,” he said to his subordinates. “They don’t want to play the defender. They’ll leave the system in our hands and force us to defend.” As many of his officers started to grin and pat one another on the back at their easy victory, Lightfoot didn’t know what to feel. With just a few reinforcements the Karacknid commander would have more than enough ships to return and harass Lightfoot’s fleet. And if we are the ones building our own orbital stations, then we’ll be stuck defending our stations while they can run rings around us. That was not an encouraging thought. He may know something else, Lightfoot thought, the Karacknid commander may very well know an invasion fleet was already on its way. If that were the case, Lightfoot would be the one falling back as quickly as possible. “Put us into orbit around the gas giant. Give the marines orders to board their stations. Update General Maximus’ orders. I want every Karacknid station rigged with explosives. If we have to pull out of the system in a hurry, I want to be able to blow them.”

  “Aye Admiral,” Lightfoot’s Chief of Staff replied.

  Lightfoot nodded to him and rolled his shoulders to ease the tension in them. Thankfully, his butterflies were gone, but he was still concerned. He would have been much happier if he had destroyed the Karacknid fleet outright instead of having to worry about it reappearing at any moment. It will take us weeks to learn what has happened at the other depots, Lightfoot thought as his mind went to Koroylov and Somerville. Koroylov’s attack should have already taken place, but Somerville’s was scheduled fo
r a week’s time. If either failed, orders for him to retreat might be on their way to him within the month. And if the system commander here fell back because he knew an invasion fleet was imminent, then things were going to be rough for Somerville, Lightfoot surmised. Of the three Karacknid supply depots, the one Somerville was targeting was by far the most built up. The main bulk of any Karacknid invasion fleet would be headed there if it was already on the move. Admiral Somerville could be in for a hard time, Lightfoot feared.

  Chapter 36

  With the much longer lifespans Humanity now enjoys, the minimum age for entering the Imperial Marines and Navy has been increased, though perhaps surprisingly, not by much. Volunteers as young as twenty-one may join one of the many military academies. I have often remarked that in most cases, the younger the student, the better the officer. It is far harder to train a bad habit or thought pattern out of someone than to train a good one in.

  -Excerpt from Empire Rising, 3002 AD.

  Intrepid, unknown system, 1st February 2483 AD (two months previous).

  “How many more systems do you think it’s going to be?” Seth asked as he idly twiddled with his command console.

  Alvarez looked over to the computer technician. He wasn’t even looking at his console, a clear indication of just how bored he was. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he answered. He had no more to give the lad than he had for himself. For a month and a half they had been jumping from system to system as May-sic directed them.