Admiral's Gambit (A Spineward Sectors Novel:)

by Luke Sky Wachter

  “I assume Commander Cornwallis has been sponsored into the Imperial Fleet by Senator and Admiral Cornwallis,” I asked stiffly, ignoring Tremblay and his antics.

  “I’m sorry, Sir, but I feel I must ask. Do you know either the Commander or his Uncle the Senator,” asked the Acting System Commander of Easy Haven.

  “I have not yet had that pleasure. Why do you ask,” I queried, trying to be polite but feeling a familiar sensation boiling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Just now, your expression,” said Officer LeGodat.

  Officer Tremblay broke in, “Sir, I must advise against any direct interaction between yourself and the Commander. Perhaps it's best for everyone involved if we find out the value of what’s being requisitioned before we move to labeling it piracy,” the First Officer said, more than a hint of desperation in his voice.

  “Is there something going on here that I should be made aware of,” asked the acting System Commander.

  “A small spot of history well over fifty years old, involving this Imperial Officer's Uncle, Charles Cornwallis and the Royal family on my home-world of Capria. But it all happened long before I was born,” I said, trying to laugh it off, “and is nothing you should worry about. I doubt it will impact the interactions between myself and the Commander, if he even knows that it happened in the first place.”

  “Although you say it's nothing and I shouldn’t worry about it, I hope you’ll forgive me if I do so anyways,” said the Officer LeGodat, looking worried.

  I shrugged and glanced over at Tremblay. “There’s no reason we shouldn’t take a look into the matter before dismissing it out of hand as proper, or deciding to take action. There’s no need for a rush to judgment here,” I said, struggling to project a jolly tone.

  From the looks on the faces of my First Officer and the System Commander, I had failed to effectively project such a demeanor.

  It turned out the Imperial Commander had stayed behind to escort a pair of semi-giant Constructor Ships, half the size of a settlement ship. Obviously, a Constructor was huge. A baby mammoth in comparison to the fully grown Settler ships, it was still many times the size of the Lucky Clover. There seemed some dispute about the legality of this action, but no one in Easy Haven had been willing (or equipped) to contest it.

  Then the Imperial Commander had spotted several home-grown Spineward Sector-built Constructor ships waiting for a proper escort to their final destination. With only a limited number of resources, the System Commander had sent the only escort he could spare with the giant settlement ships first. When Lieutenant Synthia McCruise and her pair of Corvettes returned to Easy Haven, the other two Corvettes in his Squadron were supposed to escort the Constructors to their final destination.

  After spotting the ships, Commander Cornwallis had interpreted his mandate from the Triumvirate (to deny or destroy any Imperial military or strategic assets) to include the computer banks on the Constructor ships, loaded with technological innovations made in the fifty years since the Union Treaty.

  All this despite the fact that the ships were locally built by local Sector Corporations that had nothing to do directly with the Empire or its military.

  The Commander felt that, in his opinion, the tech base these ships represented was of significant strategic importance, and as such they could either join his convoy headed back to the Empire and seek re-numeration or relief when they arrived there (an unlikely prospect with an Empire embroiled in a war so hot they had to withdraw from the eight sectors comprising the Spine in the first place) or else abandon their Constructor ships so he could destroy them.

  Surprisingly, I agreed with the Commander on one thing. These Constructor ships did, in fact, represent a strategic asset of grave importance to the development of the Spine in general, and this sector in particular.

  The rest of his position was just a power play to try and make himself look good, for coming home tardy. Like an apple for the teacher in exchange for turning in late homework. As far as System Command could tell, Cornwallis' ship represented the last Imperial Warship in this Sector, and probably the whole Spine.

  “How did three entire Constructor Ships find their way to Easy Haven?” I asked, “One would be rare enough, but I’ve never heard of three in any one system at the same time.”

  The System commander looked slightly embarrassed. “Everything we’ve heard from our intelligence sources,” I cocked an eyebrow and he had the grace to look embarrassed, “er, recently arriving merchant ships,” he amended.

  I smiled as he sputtered to a stop.

  “At any rate,” said the Commander, recovering his composure. “As far as we can tell, this is the only military installation the Imperials didn’t blow up on their way out the door. At every main base and orbital fortress, such as Draconis 3, Alpha-Proxima, even Beta-Regula they just evacuated the work force before setting off scuttling charges.”

  “Amazing,” I said, and that’s because it truly was. The Empire wasn’t going to risk anyone or anything they had ever been involved with being turned around and used against them later. The level of pure paranoia evidenced by this gesture was stunning. Well, stunning for anyone not named Montagne.

  The System Commander nodded. “We figure the only reason they didn’t do the same here is because Wolf-9 had never been upgraded, and the fact that there was an old-style Confederation reserve squadron based out of here was just a lucky oversight. Technically, Wolf-9 isn’t even an active naval base anymore. Half the place is in mothballs, the other half on standby,” he said sadly. “We’re a bunch of old reservists who never officially transferred into the Imperial Fleet.”

  He met my eyes levelly. “I think that as far as the local Sector Commanders were concerned, this old fleet base was a relic left over from the Confederation’s glory days, and the Light Squadron presence here was something they were either unaware of, or completely forgot. We’re mostly just here for parades and photo-ops. Assemblymen looking to remind voters of the good old days before the Empire took us to war seek us out on a kind of nostalgic pilgrimage,” the Acting System Commander said bitterly. “We even pulled our little Corvettes out of mothballs and refurbished them ourselves, because there just wasn’t the kind of funding or support necessary for a bunch of parade ground warriors playing to the tune of a few of local politicians.”

  “I think it's safe to say that the members of your squadron are anything but a bunch of parade ground warriors now,” I said fiercely. “The pair escorting those settlers sure gave the pirates one heck of a fight before we showed up.” Now was the time for some bridge-building, I thought. I couldn't imagine just how much work went into restoring those ships to active duty, based on LeGodat's description of their resources. A pat on the back was the least I could offer the man. I allowed a pause of a few seconds for him to reply, then prompted, “but that still doesn’t explain all the Constructor-Ships,” I continued curiously.

  “Thank you for that, Sir,” he said with a curt nod. Now we were getting somewhere. The System Commander continued, “Sorry, my mind wandered. That’s pretty simple. The Corporations that own them thought the local planetary governments were eyeing them a little too closely and decided to head for the only place in the Sector with a still-active military presence,” he said.

  “Other than a few local SDF Fleet elements,” I added, and allowed for another pause for LeGodat to reply, then continued. “Right, well it sounds like a clear-cut case of an overeager Imperial Officer straying across the line,” I said firmly. “I’ll just wander on over his way and see if we can’t work something out.”

  “Since those were the very same elements they were most concerned about, I don’t think they factored too largely into their calculations,” acting System Commander LeGodat chuckled, then turned serious after hearing my intention to parley with the Imperial Commander. “Reason has already been tried,” LeGodat said flatly. “I pray a new face and a different approach end better for you than it did for us.” The System Commander's fac
e hardened and his voice turned cold, "Commander Cornwallis threatened to blow my ‘outdated space junk’ out of the sky if any of my Corvettes got within so much as twice the distance of our weapons range. After which, he’d blast the Constructors to pieces,” growled the Fleet Reservist.

  “Well, let's see if he’s just as willing to duke it out with something a lot closer to his weight class,” I said with a lopsided grin, “The last time I checked, an Imperial Medium Cruiser might have us on the tech-side, but one of these old Dreadnaught class Battleships is bigger, stronger and outweighs her by a significant margin.”

  “Good luck,” said LeGodat, signing out.

  I turned to the bridge staff, “Find me that Imperial Cruiser,” I barked. “It’s the one right beside a bunch of gigantic Constructors, you really can’t miss it,” I finished helpfully.

  The Sensor staff redoubled their efforts. Apparently, being on the hunt was quite a lot more fun than anything else we had done to this point. Soon, the much smaller Medium Cruiser appeared on the main screen beside five enormous Constructors.

  Clearly, the bridge crew needed more training, I thought before leaning toward the First Officer.

  “How do we stack up against that Imperial Ship,” I asked quietly, careful to keep our conversation private.

  The First Officer flashed a grin. “The man that never bluffs, eh,” he said sarcastically.

  “We’re bigger and tougher, I know that. I just need to know by how much,” I said irritably.

  “We’ve got a slight advantage in throw weight. Very slight, say maybe 10%, but she’s faster and more maneuverable. If she can keep the range open, we go from a 10% advantage to about a 20-30% disadvantage, when a third of our firepower simply won’t reach her,” said Tremblay, his eyes snapping up, left and right as he went through the mental gymnastics comparing the two vessel's statistics.

  “Not good,” I mused.

  “We’ve got better shields and armor,” continued the First Officer, “our shield generators might be old, but if so they’re still beasts, say a 20% advantage there. The hull is really where we come in strong. This old lady was built to take a beating and keep dishing it out. We should have a 50-52% edge in the 'ability to taking a beating' department, over a standard Imperial Strike class Cruiser,” he finished.

  “Should have,” I repeated, ever-hateful of those inevitable addendums.

  “The Imperials have the have the best, most well-funded scientists in the entire Confederated Empire working on their military projects. They come up with new cutting edge stuff all the time. Who knows if they’ve already come out with some new weapon, armor or shield upgrade no SDF officer like me’s even heard of,” shrugged the former Intelligence Officer.

  "Oh, come now, Mr. Tremblay, you sell yourself short. You were also this ship's primary Intelligence Officer prior to Imperial withdrawal. I'm sure there is no person in this fleet more capable of assessing their tactical capabilities," I said with a calm look and steepled fingers. “So your best guess, please.” I prompted. I loved putting Tremblay on the spot, since it was much better than floundering around all on my own.

  Tremblay folded his arms and turned slightly toward the main screen. “We can take her in a straight-up fight, even if she works to keep the range advantage in her favor,” said the First Officer, “unless she gets lucky of course, or does the smart thing and runs away,” he added. “There’s just no way we could catch her.”

  “How would the Constructor’s do,” I asked slowly. “If we slugged it out, that is?”

  “Most likely scenario,” Tremblay asked guardedly.

  “Hit me with it,” I said.

  “They get pummeled,” he said evenly, “Maybe one or two are repairable over time, but the Imperial can disable them all quickly and then blast them to pieces while he’s still busy pecking away at us. With his speed and maneuverability advantage he could probably get to most of the Constructors during the fight, even if we were present, if that was his priority,” said Tremblay.

  “Then we can’t give him that opportunity,” I said firmly, pursing my lips.

  “Yes, Admiral,” Tremblay said. He didn’t roll his eyes, but the sentiment was present.

  “Assemble the command staff. It's time to figure out how to handle this mess. We’ve got three Medium Cruisers to deal with,” I said firmly.

  “Surely you can’t mean to go after the Prometheans and the Imperials at the same time,” protested the former Intelligence Officer, sounding more than a bit incredulous.

  “There’s no way I’m letting those spineless Prometheans off the hook, if there’s any way to swing it,” I said in a regally imperious tone.

  “Sir, with all due respect, there’s no way we can handle three Medium Cruisers all at the same time. They’d peck us to death, cripple our engines and then do whatever the Hades they were going to do anyway, all while we drifted helpless and watched!” The First Officer apparently wasn't a fan of this strategy.

  “Then we’ll just have to figure out how to deal with them all at the same time,” I said smoothly. “Don’t worry, I have an idea.”

  “Sweet Murphy save us,” Tremblay said under his breath.

  I clapped him on the shoulder. “Have a little faith, Mr. Tremblay.”

  Chapter 4: Strategy Session

  My original plan was to hide behind the pirate cruiser until we reached the Prometheans. We’d deal with them first, and then head for the Imperial Cruiser.

  The ‘Command Team’ shot that down within seconds.

  “There’s no way they haven’t already seen us, Sir,” said Tremblay, happy to see the first, most crucial part of my cunning plan go down in flames within the first two seconds of the conference. “But even assuming they’re idiots, there’s still no way they don’t spot us hiding behind it. First, we’re bigger than the pirate cruiser, second there are two of them, so we can’t keep the ship between us and both of them the whole way in. It's one or the other, and whoever sees us will tell its partner,” he finished, sounding quite satisfied with himself.

  One by one, they all agreed with him. I looked around. Akantha, my ever-supportive wife, was quite happy to see me fall on my face. She’d been quietly furious with me the whole trip from the Tracto system, but whenever I broached the subject she would say something like 'Oh, is there some reason for me to be angry?’ or she’d just deny it. But I knew she was upset.

  Ever since the incident on the hull, the Chief Engineer showed up to our command meetings, which was a mixed blessing. The grey-haired Gunner was also present, along with whoever had the tactical station that shift. We had Gants from the Armory and the old Caprian officer in charge of training the Lancers, plus a Promethean and a native Tracto-an understudy to the Lancer Unit. Rounding out the team were Akantha and First Officer Tremblay, naturally.

  Everyone shook their head at my plan, everyone except the grey-haired gunner. He stroked his beard and looked intrigued.

  “You have something to add,” I said, looking to the only face not filled with derision for my apparently not-so-cunning plan.

  “If we had any missiles, I’d say send the pirate cruiser anyway, while we headed off to deal with the Imperials,” he said, still stroking his beard. “I’d just lob a few ballistic missiles after them and when they reached closest approach, WHAM!” he said, slamming his hands together.

  Several people started and Tremblay jumped.

  I appreciated the sentiment, even if it was wholly inapplicable. I even opened my mouth to say so, but was beat to the punch.

  “You’ve spent too much time standing in front of the ion cannons while they’re firing,” scoffed Chief Spalding. “We’ve no missiles, you ionized idjit,” and when the gunner opened his mouth, Spalding wagged his finger and hastily added, “Engineering can build anything needed, but not in this kind of time frame.”

  The gunner closed his mouth, glanced over at the would-be Lancers, then shrugged. “Got no missiles,” he shrugged again, “we send gunners
instead. Me and the boys aren’t afraid of a little cold space assignment. We’ll just hold onto the cruiser until we’re close, and then float on over to sort them out.”

  A brief silence ensued, which quickly erupted into a storm of criticism, and the Gunner just sat back in his chair, laced his fingers behind his head and smiled.

  “That’s a job for Lancers, not space-crazed Gunners,” exclaimed the Lancer Colonel. “And it's too dangerous!”

  The Chief Engineer gaped like a fish before composing himself and jumping into the fray, “The Engineering department could do a better job of it. Leaping from ship to ship in zero-gee is a natural skill of ours. Why, a gunner can’t even hit his target half the time,” he said gamely. “How can you trust him to find his way in open space?”

  The ever-eager Gants looked intrigued, “I know a few boys who might be interested in such a plan,” he offered cheerfully.

  “Impossible,” snapped First Officer Tremblay. “This cruiser decoy fantasy has been off-base from the word jump. Anyone who supports it is either a fool or has a few screws loose in the head,” he glanced at the Chief Engineer with obvious disdain.

  “That’s right,” exclaimed the Lancer Colonel, “jumping’s a fools plan,” he shot the gunner a look that said he was stupid for even suggesting it. Tremblay nodded his agreement. “Shuttles hidden behind the prize ship are the only way to get at them fast enough that they just can’t run away and zap you to pieces with their point defense,” continued the Colonel.

  Tremblay looked betrayed. I couldn’t help an amazed smile from spreading across my face.

  Then Akantha sealed the deal. “My people aren’t afraid to take a shuttle, or jump off the ship, if that’s what it takes to give us a chance to battle the oathbreakers,” she said, icy contempt for anyone who was afraid of the risks oozing from her voice.