"They're claiming the right, as provided in the armistice, to hunt the other one down and have requested information regarding the ship's location."
Jamison looked over at Rodham who nodded sadly.
"The Kilrathi have demanded information regarding the ship's location and destination. If we refuse to provide that immediately, a condition of war might be declared."
"Tell them to go burn in hell," Grecko said.
"And besides," Tolwyn said quietly, a smile creasing his features, "those ships are not of Confederation registry."
"Look, General, the armistice is hanging by a thread," Rodham replied, ignoring Tolwyn. "First the violation of their territory and then this terrorist bomb plot to kill the ambassador and make it look like the Cats did it by killing some of our people as well."
"Are you trying to tell us that some of our own people did this bombing?" Tolwyn asked, incredulous that such a suggestion could even be made.
"Well, its one serious possibility," Rodham replied, "and we have to look at all angles."
Tolwyn was about to come back with a rather angry and very obscene retort, but Grecko held his hand up for him to be silent
"Sir, I would appreciate it if you took a look at this holo display and the data printouts. We just received it as a burst signal relayed in from Tarawa less than a half hour ago. Their mission was to follow up our suspicions regarding Kilrathi construction inside the Hari sector," and Grecko pointed to the three dimensional projection, in the middle of which floated the images of the Kilrathi super carriers.
Rodham went over and looked intently at the carriers, requesting that the computer rotate the images and then provide data on mass, length, armaments, and projected fighter carrying capacity.
Tolwyn watched the President closely and could detect a paling of his features and more surprisingly a nervous tic at the corner of his eye. It was obviously a hell of a shock for the President, but he had little sympathy for him at this moment, still remembering how not so long ago the head of the Chiefs of Staff, with tears of frustration in his eyes, begged for the armistice not to be signed, warning of what would be the end result. Noragami was now dead as a result.
"Is this genuine?" Rodham asked quietly, now examining the map which showed where the fleet was and projected times of arrival into Confederation territory if an offensive were launched.
"The data was burst signaled from Tarawa, located here," and Grecko pointed at the map showing the last reported position of the carrier. "The data was obtained from a deep reconnaissance probe which ventured into Hari space."
"On whose orders?" Jamison asked. I was never informed of this escapade. Remember, I am the Foreign Minister and if you were contemplating a violation of the armistice I should have been informed."
On the orders of the Chief of Staff," Grecko said coldly, not even bothering to turn.
"Is there a chance this is falsified information?" Rodham asked, and Tolwyn could detect the slight note of hopefulness in his voice, as if wishing that the entire problem would, simply be shown to be a hoax.
"It was sent in personally by Admiral Vance Richards, sir, and that's good enough for me.
"Richards is out there — I thought he retired?"
Grecko merely smiled.
"What you've committed here is outright mutiny," Jamison snarled. "If the rest of the Joint Chiefs were not already dead I'd demand their resignations as I am now demanding yours."
Grecko turned slowly and stared at Jamison.
"If you were not a lady," he said coldly, "I'd loosen your teeth for what you've done to us. If you want my resignation you can have it, but only after we have a full investigation of myself, the Joint Chiefs and more importantly of you. Would you care to see the file military intelligence has on you and your suspected cooperation with the Kilrathi in return for your son?"
Jamison turned towards the President.
"I want him fired as of this minute and Tolwyn here put in jail pending an investigation."
Rodham looked over at Jamison in confusion and then slowly sat down, turning to look back at the holo.
"Your report on the false signal and the Kilrathi message regarding the antimatter warhead plant, does that fit into this?
"It fits right in, sir," Grecko replied.
"Sir, you are looking at the beginning of a full scale offensive with an upgraded fleet," Tolwyn said. "In less than a month the Kilrathi will be above Earth demanding our surrender if we're lucky, though if past practices are any indication they'll flatten us with a full antimatter warhead bombardment and then come down to gloat over the wreckage and tear out the throats of the survivors with their claws when their next Sivar ceremony comes around."
Rodham nodded slowly and closed his eyes for a moment. Jamison started to speak and the president held up his hand for silence. He finally turned and looked over at Tolwyn.
"You were the best fighting admiral in the fleet, Geoff. Banbridge told me more than once that he wanted you to replace him as commander of Third Fleet when he retired."
Geoff lowered his head, saying nothing.
"Admiral Tolwyn, I am officially pardoning you for the incident at Munro. As of this moment I am reinstating you as a full admiral in command of Third Fleet, with the mission of organizing defenses against the anticipated Kilrathi invasion. General Grecko, I am appointing you the new head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff in command of all Confederation forces."
"Just what the hell is this?" Jamison roared.
"Secretary Jamison, I expect your resignation as Foreign Secretary effective immediately and also advise you that you will face an investigation. I have refused to believe the allegations made against you for too long. I think this matter has to be looked into." Jamison's features flushed.
"Harry, you can't do this," she said quietly, her voice full of menace.
"I am the President of the Confederation, and I can damn well appoint and fire my cabinet as I see fit."
"And have me as the whipping boy for this situation? Like hell. Your charges against me are nothing but a smokescreen to shift blame. It was your decision to sign the armistice."
"Based upon the information you provided to me regarding Kilrathi political intentions."
"You're the president, Harry," she snapped coldly. "The buck stops here, remember."
Rodham lowered his head, nodding sadly.
"Yes, it does. I fully realize that," he whispered. "And that is one of the reasons I demand your resignation. Admiral Richards presented me with a report more than six months ago, indicating that you might present a security risk since the capture of your son and that the Kilrathi might be in contact with you for a possible deal."
"Are you calling me a traitor?" Jamison roared.
"Not yet," Rodham said quietly.
"You want my resignation, well you can go to hell. Make it a public firing in front of the press, and believe me, my side of the story will be told as well."
She looked around the room angrily.
"I'll see all of you in hell," and she stormed out of the conference room.
Rodham watched her go and wearily he turned back to face Tolwyn and Grecko.
"I'm sorry, Duke, you and the other officers were right."
"Even if we turn them back, Mr. President, a lot of good youngsters are going to die in the doing of it. We had them, sir, we had them on the ropes and we could have crippled them. Now it's the other way around."
"You don't need to remind me, Duke."
"I do need to remind you, sir, Grecko snapped back. "It's always been this way. The civilians start to forget just how dangerous the world, or the universe really is. They start to believe their fantasies, and then in the end it's the kids on the front line who pay for it. Well, sir, on this little folly the human race might very well become extinct before it's done."
Rodham started to speak and then stopped and looked away.
"After I take care of Jamison, I'm resigning as President," he said quietly. "Vice President Dave Quinson never did support this idea; he was as much as public about it. I think he could help rally our people better than me."
"I think that's a good idea, sir," Duke replied, his voice cold and even.
Rodham stood up and looked back at the holo display.
"You know, Jamison will make this an ugly fight. It might slow down our mobilization. I'm therefore issuing as my final executive order a full mobilization of the fleet, along with wartime governmental control of the economy. Jamison is most likely running to the press right now so I'd better act first. When I resign my cabinet will have to resign as well. Maybe it'll clear the deck for Quinson."
"A smart move, sir."
Rodham nodded again and extended his hand.
"I'm sorry, Duke. Sorry for everything."
Wayne hesitated for a moment and then shook hands.
Harold Rodham, shoulders slumped in defeat, turned and walked out of the room, not even noticing the salute of the two officers behind him.
"I guess his heart was in the right place," Geoff said quietly.
You know what they pave the road to hell with," Duke replied, "and frankly, Geoff, I think we're all on a greasy slope aimed straight into the fiery pit."
The Emperor, in an unusual gesture, ordered the screen removed so that he was fully visible to those who sat before him. As the two Imperial Guards drew the screen back the clan leaders went down on their knees, foreheads touching the cool turquoise inlaid floor of the audience chamber.
"Raise up your heads, return to your feet," he said, and they did as commanded.
"I wanted you to gaze upon me, to dispel any lingering doubts as to my continued existence."
They stood silently, furtively looking from one to the other, but most of them finally turned their gaze upon Jukaga, who stood in the middle of the group, staring straight at the Emperor.
"You have heard the rumors, and they are true," the Emperor said. "Someone indeed attempted the most heinous of all crimes, a crime so loathsome that there is not even a word in our own tongue to describe it, so that we must borrow this word from corrupt and downcast races."
He fell silent as if waiting, and the silence dragged into long uncomfortable minutes, as if he were waiting for one of them to throw himself upon the foot of the throne in supplication.
No one moved.
"He shall be found out," the Emperor finally said coldly. "Now let us discuss the war."
The group visibly relaxed.
"The fleet made jump fourteen days ago from their base, within hours after being discovered, and is moving at flank speed to the front. It will arrive here at Kilrah later today."
"Then it has begun," Vak breathed, trembling with excitement and a low murmuring of growls filled the audience chamber.
The Emperor nodded.
"We have placed blame, both for the bomb in their headquarters, and for this other loathsome act, upon the humans."
"Could it not be, Jukaga replied, his voice soft and even, "that both bombs were indeed acts of humans?"
"I heard a report that you yourself said that the bombing of their headquarters could not have been done by them," the Emperor retorted.
"It is a mere conjecture," Jukaga replied, "for I have not heard any admission that we planted the bomb in their headquarters and thus wrecked the peace."
The Emperor smiled. Both he and the Baron knew the real truth, yet neither could admit it.
"I expect, Baron, that you will continue to keep them divided as long as possible. Even now they still argue, though, before they shut our embassy down and arrested the staff, we had information that they were mobilizing."
"What of our spy?"
"We have lost touch with the embassy and thus no longer have direct contact. It is assumed that she is gone."
"And what of the human embassy here on Kilrah?" Vak asked.
"I ordered their throats torn out this morning," the Emperor said coldly. "In public we are blaming them for the bombing of my cruiser. It is a convenient excuse now to treat them all as they deserve: total annihilation, total destruction of every world they inhabit."
Jukaga looked up at him in shock.
"That was in violation of the rules of war and of the agreement," Jukaga snapped.
"What rules of war?" Vak retorted. "There are no rules with such beasts who have lost whatever shred of respect we once held for them. They are lower than prey and should be exterminated without thought or mercy."
The Emperor laughed coldly.
"I am sick to death of this human scum and the potential for corruption that they present to us. I am therefore issuing the following order: all human prisoners that we still hold as well as slaves are to be slaughtered. Secondly, the new fleet is to be armed with thermonuclear weapons that are clad in strontium. These heavy weapons, when detonated in the atmosphere of a planet, will make uninhabitable. They shall be annihilated."
As he finished speaking he looked straight at Jukaga while the others in the room roared with delight.
Jukaga looked around at the clan leaders and for the first time truly felt as if a distance had opened up. If his plot had succeeded, even now they would be turning to him for guidance. Now instead they were eager to close in on him for the kill. But there was more. He felt a cool distaste for what the Emperor now proposed. Though he wanted to see the humans humbled and defeated, he found that of late he was feeling something far more, what could almost be called, if not a fondness, at least the beginning of a respect. He knew he was falling into a trap, that if one studied his enemy long enough, and came to know him, in the end one would find things, beliefs, and individuals one could identify with. What the Emperor was now proposing was monstrous.
"Such an action will arouse them to a frenzy," Jukaga said. "They will fight as they have never fought before."
"They are animals to be hunted," the Emperor replied.
"No, my lord."
A stunned silence filled the chamber at his direct contradiction to the Imperial word. He did not care. How could he even begin to explain what he knew, the countless examples of humans, motivated to fight without thought of self, fully willing to die fighting rather than submit.
"Terror will not breed submission as it did with others," Jukaga said quickly. "It will instead create a wish, as the humans put it 'to take one of the bastards with me.'"
The utterance of an obscenity, which to the Kilrathi was the most foul of insults shocked the other clan leaders.
"Do what is assigned to you, Baron," the Emperor replied sharply. "Convince them to submit. Now leave me!"
Baron Jukaga backed out of the room, barely inclining his head.
Jason "Bear" Bondarevsky opened his eyes as the distortion field from the transit jump settled down and looked over at his navigation officer.
"Alignment correct, star lock confirmed, jump was on the mark."
"Tactical," and he turned in his chair to look at the officer hovered over the holo display of the sector.
"Bannockburn in position eighty nine thousand clicks dead ahead. Too early to tell yet, sir, on passive optical sweep. At jump transit our pursuers, three corvettes and one frigate, were forty-two thousand nine hundred clicks dead astern and gaining at eight point two clicks a second."
Jason nodded. There was time to scout around before worrying about the back door.
"Flight deck."
"Doomsday here, sir."
"How are the birds?"
"All fighters ready and armed, just give us the prey."
"What about munitions?"
Doomsday gave his usual glum look.
"Enough for one more strike, sir. Eight torpedoes are all we have left for ship busters. The fighters will have to sortie with half standard missile and mass driver round bolts."
"Standby."
"Paladin on laser lock, sir."
Jason looked over at the communications officer and nodded for her to put it on the main holo.
"How goes it, laddie?"
Jason smiled. Even though he was technically the commander of this two ship fleet, he knew Paladin would never follow protocol of address and the fact was refreshing.
"Fighters are up and armed. Damage control's repaired the hull breech in the port engine room."
"And Vance?"
"Madder than hell. Seems Sparks broke one of his computers moving it out, said something about the machine costing just under half a billion. Sparks frowned, then said he could dock her pay if he was upset, but she had fighters to service."
"Good for Sparks. She's a rare lass," Paladin laughed and then his features went glum.
"We've got some trade up ahead, lad. Another cruiser just came through from the jump point leading back to Kilrah with two destroyers leading. Looks like standard tactical for more coming behind. I tapped into their comm channel and they're madder than hell and lookin for blood."
"Can we run past them to our jump point?"
"Just barely."
Jason punched into the engine room.
"Shovel on the coal back there. I want full thrust, fuel scoops closed."
"Close the scoops and we'll run her bone dry by the next jump.
"Just do it."
He switched back to Paladin.
"Let's get the hell out of here, and hope they don't have more waiting at the next jump."
"Laddie, from the looks of It I think the whole Empire is gonna be stirring to fry us."
"Let's just hope Kruger figures a way to get us out of here.
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jamison looked over at Rodham who nodded sadly.
"The Kilrathi have demanded information regarding the ship's location and destination. If we refuse to provide that immediately, a condition of war might be declared."
"Tell them to go burn in hell," Grecko said.
"And besides," Tolwyn said quietly, a smile creasing his features, "those ships are not of Confederation registry."
"Look, General, the armistice is hanging by a thread," Rodham replied, ignoring Tolwyn. "First the violation of their territory and then this terrorist bomb plot to kill the ambassador and make it look like the Cats did it by killing some of our people as well."
"Are you trying to tell us that some of our own people did this bombing?" Tolwyn asked, incredulous that such a suggestion could even be made.
"Well, its one serious possibility," Rodham replied, "and we have to look at all angles."
Tolwyn was about to come back with a rather angry and very obscene retort, but Grecko held his hand up for him to be silent
"Sir, I would appreciate it if you took a look at this holo display and the data printouts. We just received it as a burst signal relayed in from Tarawa less than a half hour ago. Their mission was to follow up our suspicions regarding Kilrathi construction inside the Hari sector," and Grecko pointed to the three dimensional projection, in the middle of which floated the images of the Kilrathi super carriers.
Rodham went over and looked intently at the carriers, requesting that the computer rotate the images and then provide data on mass, length, armaments, and projected fighter carrying capacity.
Tolwyn watched the President closely and could detect a paling of his features and more surprisingly a nervous tic at the corner of his eye. It was obviously a hell of a shock for the President, but he had little sympathy for him at this moment, still remembering how not so long ago the head of the Chiefs of Staff, with tears of frustration in his eyes, begged for the armistice not to be signed, warning of what would be the end result. Noragami was now dead as a result.
"Is this genuine?" Rodham asked quietly, now examining the map which showed where the fleet was and projected times of arrival into Confederation territory if an offensive were launched.
"The data was burst signaled from Tarawa, located here," and Grecko pointed at the map showing the last reported position of the carrier. "The data was obtained from a deep reconnaissance probe which ventured into Hari space."
"On whose orders?" Jamison asked. I was never informed of this escapade. Remember, I am the Foreign Minister and if you were contemplating a violation of the armistice I should have been informed."
On the orders of the Chief of Staff," Grecko said coldly, not even bothering to turn.
"Is there a chance this is falsified information?" Rodham asked, and Tolwyn could detect the slight note of hopefulness in his voice, as if wishing that the entire problem would, simply be shown to be a hoax.
"It was sent in personally by Admiral Vance Richards, sir, and that's good enough for me.
"Richards is out there — I thought he retired?"
Grecko merely smiled.
"What you've committed here is outright mutiny," Jamison snarled. "If the rest of the Joint Chiefs were not already dead I'd demand their resignations as I am now demanding yours."
Grecko turned slowly and stared at Jamison.
"If you were not a lady," he said coldly, "I'd loosen your teeth for what you've done to us. If you want my resignation you can have it, but only after we have a full investigation of myself, the Joint Chiefs and more importantly of you. Would you care to see the file military intelligence has on you and your suspected cooperation with the Kilrathi in return for your son?"
Jamison turned towards the President.
"I want him fired as of this minute and Tolwyn here put in jail pending an investigation."
Rodham looked over at Jamison in confusion and then slowly sat down, turning to look back at the holo.
"Your report on the false signal and the Kilrathi message regarding the antimatter warhead plant, does that fit into this?
"It fits right in, sir," Grecko replied.
"Sir, you are looking at the beginning of a full scale offensive with an upgraded fleet," Tolwyn said. "In less than a month the Kilrathi will be above Earth demanding our surrender if we're lucky, though if past practices are any indication they'll flatten us with a full antimatter warhead bombardment and then come down to gloat over the wreckage and tear out the throats of the survivors with their claws when their next Sivar ceremony comes around."
Rodham nodded slowly and closed his eyes for a moment. Jamison started to speak and the president held up his hand for silence. He finally turned and looked over at Tolwyn.
"You were the best fighting admiral in the fleet, Geoff. Banbridge told me more than once that he wanted you to replace him as commander of Third Fleet when he retired."
Geoff lowered his head, saying nothing.
"Admiral Tolwyn, I am officially pardoning you for the incident at Munro. As of this moment I am reinstating you as a full admiral in command of Third Fleet, with the mission of organizing defenses against the anticipated Kilrathi invasion. General Grecko, I am appointing you the new head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff in command of all Confederation forces."
"Just what the hell is this?" Jamison roared.
"Secretary Jamison, I expect your resignation as Foreign Secretary effective immediately and also advise you that you will face an investigation. I have refused to believe the allegations made against you for too long. I think this matter has to be looked into." Jamison's features flushed.
"Harry, you can't do this," she said quietly, her voice full of menace.
"I am the President of the Confederation, and I can damn well appoint and fire my cabinet as I see fit."
"And have me as the whipping boy for this situation? Like hell. Your charges against me are nothing but a smokescreen to shift blame. It was your decision to sign the armistice."
"Based upon the information you provided to me regarding Kilrathi political intentions."
"You're the president, Harry," she snapped coldly. "The buck stops here, remember."
Rodham lowered his head, nodding sadly.
"Yes, it does. I fully realize that," he whispered. "And that is one of the reasons I demand your resignation. Admiral Richards presented me with a report more than six months ago, indicating that you might present a security risk since the capture of your son and that the Kilrathi might be in contact with you for a possible deal."
"Are you calling me a traitor?" Jamison roared.
"Not yet," Rodham said quietly.
"You want my resignation, well you can go to hell. Make it a public firing in front of the press, and believe me, my side of the story will be told as well."
She looked around the room angrily.
"I'll see all of you in hell," and she stormed out of the conference room.
Rodham watched her go and wearily he turned back to face Tolwyn and Grecko.
"I'm sorry, Duke, you and the other officers were right."
"Even if we turn them back, Mr. President, a lot of good youngsters are going to die in the doing of it. We had them, sir, we had them on the ropes and we could have crippled them. Now it's the other way around."
"You don't need to remind me, Duke."
"I do need to remind you, sir, Grecko snapped back. "It's always been this way. The civilians start to forget just how dangerous the world, or the universe really is. They start to believe their fantasies, and then in the end it's the kids on the front line who pay for it. Well, sir, on this little folly the human race might very well become extinct before it's done."
Rodham started to speak and then stopped and looked away.
"After I take care of Jamison, I'm resigning as President," he said quietly. "Vice President Dave Quinson never did support this idea; he was as much as public about it. I think he could help rally our people better than me."
"I think that's a good idea, sir," Duke replied, his voice cold and even.
Rodham stood up and looked back at the holo display.
"You know, Jamison will make this an ugly fight. It might slow down our mobilization. I'm therefore issuing as my final executive order a full mobilization of the fleet, along with wartime governmental control of the economy. Jamison is most likely running to the press right now so I'd better act first. When I resign my cabinet will have to resign as well. Maybe it'll clear the deck for Quinson."
"A smart move, sir."
Rodham nodded again and extended his hand.
"I'm sorry, Duke. Sorry for everything."
Wayne hesitated for a moment and then shook hands.
Harold Rodham, shoulders slumped in defeat, turned and walked out of the room, not even noticing the salute of the two officers behind him.
"I guess his heart was in the right place," Geoff said quietly.
You know what they pave the road to hell with," Duke replied, "and frankly, Geoff, I think we're all on a greasy slope aimed straight into the fiery pit."
The Emperor, in an unusual gesture, ordered the screen removed so that he was fully visible to those who sat before him. As the two Imperial Guards drew the screen back the clan leaders went down on their knees, foreheads touching the cool turquoise inlaid floor of the audience chamber.
"Raise up your heads, return to your feet," he said, and they did as commanded.
"I wanted you to gaze upon me, to dispel any lingering doubts as to my continued existence."
They stood silently, furtively looking from one to the other, but most of them finally turned their gaze upon Jukaga, who stood in the middle of the group, staring straight at the Emperor.
"You have heard the rumors, and they are true," the Emperor said. "Someone indeed attempted the most heinous of all crimes, a crime so loathsome that there is not even a word in our own tongue to describe it, so that we must borrow this word from corrupt and downcast races."
He fell silent as if waiting, and the silence dragged into long uncomfortable minutes, as if he were waiting for one of them to throw himself upon the foot of the throne in supplication.
No one moved.
"He shall be found out," the Emperor finally said coldly. "Now let us discuss the war."
The group visibly relaxed.
"The fleet made jump fourteen days ago from their base, within hours after being discovered, and is moving at flank speed to the front. It will arrive here at Kilrah later today."
"Then it has begun," Vak breathed, trembling with excitement and a low murmuring of growls filled the audience chamber.
The Emperor nodded.
"We have placed blame, both for the bomb in their headquarters, and for this other loathsome act, upon the humans."
"Could it not be, Jukaga replied, his voice soft and even, "that both bombs were indeed acts of humans?"
"I heard a report that you yourself said that the bombing of their headquarters could not have been done by them," the Emperor retorted.
"It is a mere conjecture," Jukaga replied, "for I have not heard any admission that we planted the bomb in their headquarters and thus wrecked the peace."
The Emperor smiled. Both he and the Baron knew the real truth, yet neither could admit it.
"I expect, Baron, that you will continue to keep them divided as long as possible. Even now they still argue, though, before they shut our embassy down and arrested the staff, we had information that they were mobilizing."
"What of our spy?"
"We have lost touch with the embassy and thus no longer have direct contact. It is assumed that she is gone."
"And what of the human embassy here on Kilrah?" Vak asked.
"I ordered their throats torn out this morning," the Emperor said coldly. "In public we are blaming them for the bombing of my cruiser. It is a convenient excuse now to treat them all as they deserve: total annihilation, total destruction of every world they inhabit."
Jukaga looked up at him in shock.
"That was in violation of the rules of war and of the agreement," Jukaga snapped.
"What rules of war?" Vak retorted. "There are no rules with such beasts who have lost whatever shred of respect we once held for them. They are lower than prey and should be exterminated without thought or mercy."
The Emperor laughed coldly.
"I am sick to death of this human scum and the potential for corruption that they present to us. I am therefore issuing the following order: all human prisoners that we still hold as well as slaves are to be slaughtered. Secondly, the new fleet is to be armed with thermonuclear weapons that are clad in strontium. These heavy weapons, when detonated in the atmosphere of a planet, will make uninhabitable. They shall be annihilated."
As he finished speaking he looked straight at Jukaga while the others in the room roared with delight.
Jukaga looked around at the clan leaders and for the first time truly felt as if a distance had opened up. If his plot had succeeded, even now they would be turning to him for guidance. Now instead they were eager to close in on him for the kill. But there was more. He felt a cool distaste for what the Emperor now proposed. Though he wanted to see the humans humbled and defeated, he found that of late he was feeling something far more, what could almost be called, if not a fondness, at least the beginning of a respect. He knew he was falling into a trap, that if one studied his enemy long enough, and came to know him, in the end one would find things, beliefs, and individuals one could identify with. What the Emperor was now proposing was monstrous.
"Such an action will arouse them to a frenzy," Jukaga said. "They will fight as they have never fought before."
"They are animals to be hunted," the Emperor replied.
"No, my lord."
A stunned silence filled the chamber at his direct contradiction to the Imperial word. He did not care. How could he even begin to explain what he knew, the countless examples of humans, motivated to fight without thought of self, fully willing to die fighting rather than submit.
"Terror will not breed submission as it did with others," Jukaga said quickly. "It will instead create a wish, as the humans put it 'to take one of the bastards with me.'"
The utterance of an obscenity, which to the Kilrathi was the most foul of insults shocked the other clan leaders.
"Do what is assigned to you, Baron," the Emperor replied sharply. "Convince them to submit. Now leave me!"
Baron Jukaga backed out of the room, barely inclining his head.
Jason "Bear" Bondarevsky opened his eyes as the distortion field from the transit jump settled down and looked over at his navigation officer.
"Alignment correct, star lock confirmed, jump was on the mark."
"Tactical," and he turned in his chair to look at the officer hovered over the holo display of the sector.
"Bannockburn in position eighty nine thousand clicks dead ahead. Too early to tell yet, sir, on passive optical sweep. At jump transit our pursuers, three corvettes and one frigate, were forty-two thousand nine hundred clicks dead astern and gaining at eight point two clicks a second."
Jason nodded. There was time to scout around before worrying about the back door.
"Flight deck."
"Doomsday here, sir."
"How are the birds?"
"All fighters ready and armed, just give us the prey."
"What about munitions?"
Doomsday gave his usual glum look.
"Enough for one more strike, sir. Eight torpedoes are all we have left for ship busters. The fighters will have to sortie with half standard missile and mass driver round bolts."
"Standby."
"Paladin on laser lock, sir."
Jason looked over at the communications officer and nodded for her to put it on the main holo.
"How goes it, laddie?"
Jason smiled. Even though he was technically the commander of this two ship fleet, he knew Paladin would never follow protocol of address and the fact was refreshing.
"Fighters are up and armed. Damage control's repaired the hull breech in the port engine room."
"And Vance?"
"Madder than hell. Seems Sparks broke one of his computers moving it out, said something about the machine costing just under half a billion. Sparks frowned, then said he could dock her pay if he was upset, but she had fighters to service."
"Good for Sparks. She's a rare lass," Paladin laughed and then his features went glum.
"We've got some trade up ahead, lad. Another cruiser just came through from the jump point leading back to Kilrah with two destroyers leading. Looks like standard tactical for more coming behind. I tapped into their comm channel and they're madder than hell and lookin for blood."
"Can we run past them to our jump point?"
"Just barely."
Jason punched into the engine room.
"Shovel on the coal back there. I want full thrust, fuel scoops closed."
"Close the scoops and we'll run her bone dry by the next jump.
"Just do it."
He switched back to Paladin.
"Let's get the hell out of here, and hope they don't have more waiting at the next jump."
"Laddie, from the looks of It I think the whole Empire is gonna be stirring to fry us."
"Let's just hope Kruger figures a way to get us out of here.
CHAPTER TEN
Admiral Geoffrey Tolwyn stood up and walked to the front of the room. He looked down the length of the conference table and felt a cold twinge of pain. So many familiar faces were gone, killed in the bomb attack. It felt strange now to be standing before this group; after all it was Banbridge's job to run Third Fleet. He suddenly felt old and very lonely. He pushed the thought aside.
"Good morning."
He paused, reached into his breast pocket, pulled out an envelope and opened the letter. A paper letter such as the one he was holding was a wonderful gesture out of the past, part of the old traditions that the military still hung on to.
"By order of the JCS, Admiral Geoffrey Tolwyn is appointed commander Third Fleet as of this date, with the primary mission of meeting, engaging, and destroying any hostile invasion into Confederation space which is directed towards the inner system of worlds. You are authorized to employ any means necessary as outlined in Emergency Decree 394 issued this date by the President of the Confederation. Your command will include 3rd Destroyer Group, Commodore Polowski commanding . . ."
He paused and looked back up at the group.
"Anyhow, all of you are listed here," he said quietly, "and if you aren't listed, I'm taking you anyhow," and the room echoed with nervous laughter.
Geoff activated the main holo screen which displayed the new Kilrathi heavy carriers, while a side screen displayed the surmised position of the fleet and its possible route into Confederation space.
A low murmur of voices filled the room as the dozen group and squadron commanders, representing the ships and Marine assault regiments under his command examined the data.
"Our task is to meet and stop this force before it gains the inner worlds of the Confederation."
"Just how many fighters will these ships carry?" Lyford Beverage, commander of the First Cruiser Squadron asked.
"We're working off of only one intelligence sweep, a long range optical examination followed by a translight radar burst, so our data is sketchy. Our evaluation team believes they carry four launch bays, and perhaps six. It's hard to tell, since all the ships were aligned identically at the time we swept them so we don't have a full examination from all angles. Given the mass of the ships, our best guess is two hundred and forty fighters, scout and bomber craft, perhaps three hundred. Close analysis of the scan detected five of the ships emitting infrared signatures for functional reactors. The other seven were cold."
"Good lord, Geoff, if five of those things are coming at us that means we'll be facing upwards of fifteen hundred attack ships," Rear Admiral Allen Zitek growled from the back of the room, his speech computer making him sound almost robotic. Zitek had been badly burned years before leading a squadron against a Kilrathi carrier. It still amazed Geoff what the surgeons could do if a man could be brought in while still alive.
"Don't forget that the Kilrathi had a minimum of nineteen other standard carriers and at least twenty heavy cruisers that carried thirty fighters each. That comes to over three thousand seven hundred additional strike craft."
There was a chilled moment of silence.
"What about logistical support, supplies, and training from the Kilrathi view point?" Duke Grecko asked from the back of the room.
"That's the one hope," Geoff replied. "We now understand the mystery of their transport shortage and their occasional shortages of missiles. They were straining their system beyond the max to keep the war going and at the same time building this new fleet in secret. I've handed this data over to intelligence analysis, and I'm stilling waiting for the full report. My gut feeling on it is that they couldn't fully do both. I think they stripped some of their best squadrons off their front line carriers during the armistice and shipped the personnel out to the new ships, replacing them with new recruits. The burst signal from Tarawa already indicated a thousand fighters transferred off ships that had been put into their inactive reserve. I'm certain we'll see their best shot from the new carriers, which will be fully loaded for combat. The rest of the fleet will be held in a secondary support role or open action on other fronts as diversions."
"That still would leave a minimum of fifteen hundred strike craft on five carriers coming straight at Earth, not to mention what looks like close to a hundred escort ships," Zitek replied. "And just how many fighters will we have to meet this?"
"We can have five carriers fully on line within two weeks, with forty one escorts, carrying a total of six hundred and eighty-nine strike craft."
"Just five?"
"Actually, only two are on line and fully operational at the moment, Geoff said shaking his head.
"With crews working around the clock and cutting a lot of corners, I expect to see three more carriers ready to join the fleet by the time the Kilrathi penetrate into Confederation space. It'll be forty-five days, more like sixty, before our remaining carriers will be on line again."
"Jamison was brilliant pushing that deactivation through," Grecko snapped and Geoff could only nod his head in agreement.
The political arena with Jamison standing in the center was now one of absolute chaos. Less than twenty-four hours ago Rodham had announced the existence of the Kilrathi super carriers and the assumption that Earth had been directly targeted for attack. He then called for the Confederation Senate to renounce the armistice and to mobilize for a renewal of the war, closing with his resignation as president. Minutes later the vice president was sworn in and delivered a sharp rousing speech, demanding that the Kilrathi open their border for full inspection of the new fleet or face offensive action. It was all a bluff on Quinson's part, but it at least sounded good. The Confederation had been thrown into a state of panic by the announcement, with every holo reporter scrambling to put their spin on the issue, which ranged from "we've been stabbed in the back by the Cats," to "the evil military was pushing for a war." The situation was further stirred up by the Kilrathi reply that the bombing of headquarters and the attempt on the Emperor's life were part of a military coup by pro-war officers and that they were totally innocent of any wrong-doing.
At first Geoff had naively assumed that this had closed the deal, that the Senate would vote for war and that the new president's declaration of a full military emergency would be observed.
Jamison had triggered near chaos instead. First she refused to resign, even though Quinson had appointed a new Foreign Minister. Next she accused the military of conspiring to renew the war, a position that the Kilrathi were pumping out through their propaganda agencies.
The result was that the Senate had still not declared war, wavering, some even adopting the Kilrathi line, and demanding that the military unilaterally disarm.
Quinson had stood firm, however, evoking executive right to order the military to mobilize for emergency action. The one restraint, however, was that such an emergency did not give the fleet the right to take offensive action. Tolwyn had actually fallen into a shouting match with the senate military committee over that point, wanting to free his two light escorts that were operational for a spoiling and recon raid into Kilrathi space, but he had been held back.
Sometimes it really bites to be in the military," Polowski snapped from the back of the room. "I'd just love to get Jamison onboard my ship as a forward turret gunner's mate when we charge those carriers and let her see what her peace loving friends have done while we slept," and there was a chorus of approval.
Geoff held up his hand for silence.
"Remember, we are the military. Civilian politics is outside of our control and like it or not that's a tradition we must observe. It's our job to defend the Confederation from the attack we all know is coming, and I'm counting on you to give it everything you have. Some really big damn fools got us into this fix. The hell with them, push them out of your minds. I want you to focus on the billions of innocent people who will be under the Kilrathi antimatter bombs and the survivors who will face their knives if we fail. The existence of the human race now hangs in the balance
He paused for a moment. The words had come out of him, not planned at all. In any other setting he felt they would have sounded worn. But it was the simple truth: the actual existence of his entire species rested in their hands. One wrong move on his part and it might all be over with. All of it gone forever, two thousand years of England gone, a cold silence of death, of extinction.
I can't dwell on this, he realized. It'll drive me insane if I do, so stay focused on the job and nothing else.
He switched the holo screen to a map of the inner core of planets and the jump lines leading out to the frontier.
"The Kilrathi have three main lines of approach, all of which finally come in here," and he pointed to a blue white star from which radiated a number of jump lines. "Here at Sirius and the jump point behind Sirius the shortest routes of jump lines come together and then from there straight back to Earth. By the shortest route, jump line alpha, it's ten jump points from Sirius to the frontier, four back to Earth. The next route, beta is twelve jumps to the frontier and delta is thirteen. All the other routes meander back and forth. For the Kilrathi I think they'll be so confident of their strength, and also concerned about not giving us time to rearm, that they'll come straight on in.
"I propose to meet them in front of Sirius."
"Geoff, that abandons several hundred inhabited colonies further out," Polowski said quietly, "my own home of Planet Warsaw being one of them."
Tolwyn nodded.
"There are eighteen major jump points leading across the frontier and several dozen other jump points running parallel or zigzagging back and forth. Before the armistice neither we nor the Kilrathi had the strength to simply go charging in, saying the hell with our rear and leaping towards the jugular. They now do. We lack the strength of a major counter strike and even if we did have it, it'd be weeks before we could even begin to move it. By then it'll be too late. In addition they can hold a number of their standard fleet carriers in reserve as a reaction force to counter even light escort raiders the way we had been using them in the past. We have to fall back and concentrate what assets we have. If we try a forward defense they might swing around us."
"Why not an offensive, Geoff? Split them off the way we did at Vukar Tag," Grecko asked from the back of the room.
"It won't work this time, sir. Even if we took what we had right now and shot it straight in, their older carriers acting as a reserve would stop us cold, while the new fleet would just continue on into Earth. Second, they'd see it for what it was, an effort to split their offensive. They'd ignore it and still bore straight in. What we have to do is seek a meeting engagement with their main fleet and stop it, that's the only viable option left open to us."
"So what about my home planet?" Polowski asked
Geoff paused for a moment. The cold hard word for it was "abandon" but he could not bring himself to say that, or even really admit it to himself.
"Mike, the Kilrathi have two ways to run this offensive. The first is to break through our forward defenses, then spread out and start ripping the colonial worlds to shreds. Every day that they do that is one more day for us to rearm and they know it. The second way is to come charging straight in, figuring they can mop up the colonies at their leisure after the core planets have been destroyed along with the fleet."
"I'm betting on the second method. It's sound militarily and it's what we would do: kill the home world and inner planets and end the war. The only advantage we can hope for is to stand and defend as close to our main base as possible, thus stretching their line of communication while we can continue to pour into action whatever ships come on line at the last minute. It is the one classic advantage of the defensive the ability to fall back upon your base of supplies, and it's our only hope."
"Easy for you to say," Mike replied. "My entire family's out there on Warsaw, two jumps from the frontier."
"Can you propose any other alternative given what we have?" Geoff asked, his voice filled with a genuine concern. He knew he couldn't simply order men to abandon their homes and families. They'd have to be willing to do it with the hope of final victory and then rescue, no matter how slim the chance.
Mike looked down at his memo pad and then finally shook his head
"You're right, Admiral, its the only way," and there was a soft chorus of agreement.
"I wish we could inform the governors and presidents of the various colonial worlds of our strategic plan, though for security reasons it is obvious we cannot. For that matter, gentlemen, no one outside this room is to have any knowledge of what our strategy is.
"That'll give precious little warning to whichever worlds are in the way of the fleet," Zitek said. "Even if they're coming straight on, they'll still dispatch some cruisers on the way in to scorch the planets directly in their path. They'll have to, they can t afford to leave potential bases in their rear. Nearly every one of those outer worlds has at least one base on them, the major systems garrisoned with troops and orbital bases. They could stand against raiders, but not against what they'll be throwing in."
Geoff nodded grimly. It meant that millions in the outer worlds might die. He could only hope that those who could get out of the way would, heading to remote areas of their world to wait out the attack. At least most of the worlds were sparsely populated, with a lot of room to hide. In the early days of the war the outer regions, except for the Landreich on the flank of the Confederation, had been devastated, and billions had died. The region had yet to recover. It wasn't until Sirius was reached inside the area never touched by the war, that the major inhabited regions were located.
He could only hope they had dug their shelters deep enough to survive bombardment.
"So the colonies are a write off?" Duke asked quietly, obviously wanting to make the fact absolutely clear.
"Local guard units will be given the discretion to stay, but I want everything here for the major showdown," and he pointed at Sirius, hanging in the middle of the holo. "Sirius is where the decision will be made."
"What about the Landreich and Kruger?" Polowski asked.
"I'll ask them for help and for the release of the escorts we signed over to them, but I doubt old Kruger will be amused that once again we're pulling a withdrawal due to strategic necessity."
He could well imagine the explosion that would be created when the burst signal reached Kruger on that one.
"Gentlemen, I want the fleet fully loaded and ready to move within four days."
The men looked at him incredulously.
"Geoff, it'll be eight, more like ten days before we get all our personnel back in aboard ship," Zitek replied. "Even our active carriers had half their crews on leave. Some of them are at the far end of the Confederation."
"You'll find a clause in Emergency decree 394A that allows for the drafting of emergency replacements off civilian ships, and retired personnel if need be for the duration of the emergency. Use it, shanghai your crews if necessary, but I want full ship's complements inside of ninety-six hours. Now let's get to work." The admirals and Marine officers filed out of the room. Geoff looked back down at his memo pad, ready to feed in a long series of orders. Looking up he saw that Duke had stayed behind.
"Something's wrong, isn't it?" Geoff said, sensing that there was bad news coming.
Duke nodded.
"I just got a signal in the clear from Kruger."
"Go on."
"He told us and I quote 'you created this mess, you solve it. Go to hell.'"
Geoff chuckled sadly.
"Doesn't the damn fool realize," Grecko snapped, "that if the Confederation goes down, the Cats will turn on him next?"
"If he comes to help us, he'll get hit from the rear. It's the old classic problem of frontier militia being called up to serve with the regulars — do you leave your homes open to attack by marching off somewhere else?"
Geoff paused, realizing that there was something else to the message.
"You're holding something back, Duke, what is it?"
"He also reported, in the clear, that Tarawa has failed to return and is assumed lost."
Geoff remained standing, staring straight at Duke.
"Damn this war to hell."
Eyes wide with excitement and with the thrill of the hunt, the Emperor turned to face his grandson.
"Magnificent, simply magnificent," he growled, turning back to look out the forward view port of the cruiser that now served as the Imperial ship. Less than a kilometer away, the Kilrathi Fifth Fleet of the Claw passed by in review. The light frigates, corvettes and three destroyer groups had already passed. The last of the heavy cruisers was just passing to port and now the first of the new carriers, Hagku'ka, came into view.
Every fighter had been launched and moved in formation ahead of the carrier, three and a half eighties of fighters arrayed in eight V formations. The bow of the carrier came into view, the heavy durasteel forward edge studded with quad mounted mass driver guns and anti-torpedo launch tubes. Three launch decks, one on either side and one topside opened into the vast interior of the ship, which was mostly comprised of the huge hangar bays, workshops, and armament storage areas needed for the fighters.
Internal bulkheads had been double layered, compartmentalizing the ship so that even if the forward end was shattered all the way back amidships, the aft half could continue to fight. Three belts of armor sealed off the outside of the ship from the interior so that if a torpedo did penetrate the phase shielding and outer layer of armor, its detonation would not burst into the vulnerable inner decks and fuel storage areas. Sealed internal access shafts even allowed for the transfer of fighters from one bay to another for launching if a bay opening were shut down. Just aft of amidship three more launch bays were mounted pointing aft, in the same configuration as the forward half of the ship. The six Yatug class engines were actually buried inside the ship, wrapped in heavy armor, their exhaust vents tunneling through thirty meters of ship before reaching open space. If a spread of missiles were closing from astern, the engines could be throttled off and the exhaust vents slammed shut, the missiles impacting impotently against heavy durasteel. The shields could then be retracted, or if need be blown clear and the engines unharmed, fired back up.
The first carrier passed, followed by four more and the Emperor watched, speechless. So this was the culmination of years of secret planning and the stripping of the best resources of the Empire. All for this, a fleet of ships unlike anything ever before seen in this sector of the universe. When the war with the humans was done, such ships could even stand against the Mantu, if they should dare to return.
"Grandson, with this fleet victory is ours."
"Remember, my Emperor, the fleet is but half the size we planned," Thrakhath said cautiously. "Victory should not be counted until the blood of the prey is in one's mouth."
The Emperor nodded, realizing that his enthusiasm had taken hold too deeply. He was still shaken by the murder attempt. It had been his dream to see at least one ceremony of Sivar in the burned ruins of Earth, for he knew that it would not be much longer before his ancestors finally called.
"Bring me victory," the Emperor finally said, "that is all I ask. You should take Earth in time for Sivar, we'll celebrate it there. Be sure that it is ready for my arrival."
"Yes, my Emperor."
"And as for Jukaga, have you found anything more?"
"Three have died under the question, none have spoken. His path seems to be secured. If we put him directly to the question, the other clan leaders would again object. That path is closed as well."
"Then take him with you on this expedition," the Emperor said quietly.
"Grandfather?"
"You heard me. I've summoned him to this ship, he is in the next chamber. He is to go with you.
"He is head of spies, it is not his role to be a fleet warrior."
"He is a clan leader, a post of honor with the fleet he can not refuse. I think you will know what to do with him once battle is joined."
"It might be dangerous having him with us," the Prince replied.
"You will find a way," and the Emperor turned, motioning for a guard to open the door into a side chamber.
"Arise, my Baron. Was not the sight of our fleet wondrous?"
Jukaga stood up again.
"Wondrous."
"And what of the Confederation government?"
"Their senate still debates. It was reported however that two carriers sortied from their main base above their moon with a third to soon follow, and that the shipyards are working full time to prepare those in drydock for launching as well. Even though their government debates, their new president is acting quickly, with declaration of war or without. There have been forays by the Landreich into our territory, but no deep penetrations."
"I cannot even begin to comprehend how they function, the Emperor replied.
Jukaga nodded as if in agreement.
And that is why you never won, you old fool, he thought coldly.
"I have a new assignment for you, Baron."
He waited, tense and expectant.
"You go with the fleet to speak to their leaders one more time before we strike."
The Baron nodded. Would they simply arrange "an accident?" That now seemed to be the path.
"I am master of spies, my Emperor. Would not one of your warrior leaders be more appropriate?"
"You know this species of prey the best. It is your voice that they know, let them hear it one more time before we strike. You seemed disturbed by our ultimate plans, let us see if you can convince them to submit and thus save this species you seem to like so much."
He looked around the room, which was filled with the leaders of the new fleet. He was trapped and could not refuse.
"As you command it, my Emperor."
The Emperor turned away back to his grandson.
"Your plan is set, then?"
"Yes, my Emperor. The fleet will head towards the frontier at flank speed. Refueling tankers will accompany them so that we may move swiftly without need of deploying fuel scoops. The Second Fleet of the Claw, with four of our older carriers, will join us before we reach the frontier and make the first penetration, thus shielding our main fleet as long as possible. The Fourth Fleet of the Claw, with three carriers, will sortie towards the Landreich to pin down any forces they might have there, preventing them from shifting against our flank. The First Fleet of the Claw, with three carriers, will make up the reserve. The other carriers have been stripped of their crews and pilots for the Fifth Fleet and will be held in reserve."
"That is ten carriers," the Emperor said quietly.
"You know the shortage of trained pilots has become serious. Either our best pilots went with our new carriers or else the new fleet would be manned by pilots with no combat experience. It will be a year before we have enough fully trained pilots and fighters to bring the older reserve carriers back to operational strength.
The Emperor nodded grimly.
"So let it be," he said, turning away. "Now bring me victory."
"Good morning."
He paused, reached into his breast pocket, pulled out an envelope and opened the letter. A paper letter such as the one he was holding was a wonderful gesture out of the past, part of the old traditions that the military still hung on to.
"By order of the JCS, Admiral Geoffrey Tolwyn is appointed commander Third Fleet as of this date, with the primary mission of meeting, engaging, and destroying any hostile invasion into Confederation space which is directed towards the inner system of worlds. You are authorized to employ any means necessary as outlined in Emergency Decree 394 issued this date by the President of the Confederation. Your command will include 3rd Destroyer Group, Commodore Polowski commanding . . ."
He paused and looked back up at the group.
"Anyhow, all of you are listed here," he said quietly, "and if you aren't listed, I'm taking you anyhow," and the room echoed with nervous laughter.
Geoff activated the main holo screen which displayed the new Kilrathi heavy carriers, while a side screen displayed the surmised position of the fleet and its possible route into Confederation space.
A low murmur of voices filled the room as the dozen group and squadron commanders, representing the ships and Marine assault regiments under his command examined the data.
"Our task is to meet and stop this force before it gains the inner worlds of the Confederation."
"Just how many fighters will these ships carry?" Lyford Beverage, commander of the First Cruiser Squadron asked.
"We're working off of only one intelligence sweep, a long range optical examination followed by a translight radar burst, so our data is sketchy. Our evaluation team believes they carry four launch bays, and perhaps six. It's hard to tell, since all the ships were aligned identically at the time we swept them so we don't have a full examination from all angles. Given the mass of the ships, our best guess is two hundred and forty fighters, scout and bomber craft, perhaps three hundred. Close analysis of the scan detected five of the ships emitting infrared signatures for functional reactors. The other seven were cold."
"Good lord, Geoff, if five of those things are coming at us that means we'll be facing upwards of fifteen hundred attack ships," Rear Admiral Allen Zitek growled from the back of the room, his speech computer making him sound almost robotic. Zitek had been badly burned years before leading a squadron against a Kilrathi carrier. It still amazed Geoff what the surgeons could do if a man could be brought in while still alive.
"Don't forget that the Kilrathi had a minimum of nineteen other standard carriers and at least twenty heavy cruisers that carried thirty fighters each. That comes to over three thousand seven hundred additional strike craft."
There was a chilled moment of silence.
"What about logistical support, supplies, and training from the Kilrathi view point?" Duke Grecko asked from the back of the room.
"That's the one hope," Geoff replied. "We now understand the mystery of their transport shortage and their occasional shortages of missiles. They were straining their system beyond the max to keep the war going and at the same time building this new fleet in secret. I've handed this data over to intelligence analysis, and I'm stilling waiting for the full report. My gut feeling on it is that they couldn't fully do both. I think they stripped some of their best squadrons off their front line carriers during the armistice and shipped the personnel out to the new ships, replacing them with new recruits. The burst signal from Tarawa already indicated a thousand fighters transferred off ships that had been put into their inactive reserve. I'm certain we'll see their best shot from the new carriers, which will be fully loaded for combat. The rest of the fleet will be held in a secondary support role or open action on other fronts as diversions."
"That still would leave a minimum of fifteen hundred strike craft on five carriers coming straight at Earth, not to mention what looks like close to a hundred escort ships," Zitek replied. "And just how many fighters will we have to meet this?"
"We can have five carriers fully on line within two weeks, with forty one escorts, carrying a total of six hundred and eighty-nine strike craft."
"Just five?"
"Actually, only two are on line and fully operational at the moment, Geoff said shaking his head.
"With crews working around the clock and cutting a lot of corners, I expect to see three more carriers ready to join the fleet by the time the Kilrathi penetrate into Confederation space. It'll be forty-five days, more like sixty, before our remaining carriers will be on line again."
"Jamison was brilliant pushing that deactivation through," Grecko snapped and Geoff could only nod his head in agreement.
The political arena with Jamison standing in the center was now one of absolute chaos. Less than twenty-four hours ago Rodham had announced the existence of the Kilrathi super carriers and the assumption that Earth had been directly targeted for attack. He then called for the Confederation Senate to renounce the armistice and to mobilize for a renewal of the war, closing with his resignation as president. Minutes later the vice president was sworn in and delivered a sharp rousing speech, demanding that the Kilrathi open their border for full inspection of the new fleet or face offensive action. It was all a bluff on Quinson's part, but it at least sounded good. The Confederation had been thrown into a state of panic by the announcement, with every holo reporter scrambling to put their spin on the issue, which ranged from "we've been stabbed in the back by the Cats," to "the evil military was pushing for a war." The situation was further stirred up by the Kilrathi reply that the bombing of headquarters and the attempt on the Emperor's life were part of a military coup by pro-war officers and that they were totally innocent of any wrong-doing.
At first Geoff had naively assumed that this had closed the deal, that the Senate would vote for war and that the new president's declaration of a full military emergency would be observed.
Jamison had triggered near chaos instead. First she refused to resign, even though Quinson had appointed a new Foreign Minister. Next she accused the military of conspiring to renew the war, a position that the Kilrathi were pumping out through their propaganda agencies.
The result was that the Senate had still not declared war, wavering, some even adopting the Kilrathi line, and demanding that the military unilaterally disarm.
Quinson had stood firm, however, evoking executive right to order the military to mobilize for emergency action. The one restraint, however, was that such an emergency did not give the fleet the right to take offensive action. Tolwyn had actually fallen into a shouting match with the senate military committee over that point, wanting to free his two light escorts that were operational for a spoiling and recon raid into Kilrathi space, but he had been held back.
Sometimes it really bites to be in the military," Polowski snapped from the back of the room. "I'd just love to get Jamison onboard my ship as a forward turret gunner's mate when we charge those carriers and let her see what her peace loving friends have done while we slept," and there was a chorus of approval.
Geoff held up his hand for silence.
"Remember, we are the military. Civilian politics is outside of our control and like it or not that's a tradition we must observe. It's our job to defend the Confederation from the attack we all know is coming, and I'm counting on you to give it everything you have. Some really big damn fools got us into this fix. The hell with them, push them out of your minds. I want you to focus on the billions of innocent people who will be under the Kilrathi antimatter bombs and the survivors who will face their knives if we fail. The existence of the human race now hangs in the balance
He paused for a moment. The words had come out of him, not planned at all. In any other setting he felt they would have sounded worn. But it was the simple truth: the actual existence of his entire species rested in their hands. One wrong move on his part and it might all be over with. All of it gone forever, two thousand years of England gone, a cold silence of death, of extinction.
I can't dwell on this, he realized. It'll drive me insane if I do, so stay focused on the job and nothing else.
He switched the holo screen to a map of the inner core of planets and the jump lines leading out to the frontier.
"The Kilrathi have three main lines of approach, all of which finally come in here," and he pointed to a blue white star from which radiated a number of jump lines. "Here at Sirius and the jump point behind Sirius the shortest routes of jump lines come together and then from there straight back to Earth. By the shortest route, jump line alpha, it's ten jump points from Sirius to the frontier, four back to Earth. The next route, beta is twelve jumps to the frontier and delta is thirteen. All the other routes meander back and forth. For the Kilrathi I think they'll be so confident of their strength, and also concerned about not giving us time to rearm, that they'll come straight on in.
"I propose to meet them in front of Sirius."
"Geoff, that abandons several hundred inhabited colonies further out," Polowski said quietly, "my own home of Planet Warsaw being one of them."
Tolwyn nodded.
"There are eighteen major jump points leading across the frontier and several dozen other jump points running parallel or zigzagging back and forth. Before the armistice neither we nor the Kilrathi had the strength to simply go charging in, saying the hell with our rear and leaping towards the jugular. They now do. We lack the strength of a major counter strike and even if we did have it, it'd be weeks before we could even begin to move it. By then it'll be too late. In addition they can hold a number of their standard fleet carriers in reserve as a reaction force to counter even light escort raiders the way we had been using them in the past. We have to fall back and concentrate what assets we have. If we try a forward defense they might swing around us."
"Why not an offensive, Geoff? Split them off the way we did at Vukar Tag," Grecko asked from the back of the room.
"It won't work this time, sir. Even if we took what we had right now and shot it straight in, their older carriers acting as a reserve would stop us cold, while the new fleet would just continue on into Earth. Second, they'd see it for what it was, an effort to split their offensive. They'd ignore it and still bore straight in. What we have to do is seek a meeting engagement with their main fleet and stop it, that's the only viable option left open to us."
"So what about my home planet?" Polowski asked
Geoff paused for a moment. The cold hard word for it was "abandon" but he could not bring himself to say that, or even really admit it to himself.
"Mike, the Kilrathi have two ways to run this offensive. The first is to break through our forward defenses, then spread out and start ripping the colonial worlds to shreds. Every day that they do that is one more day for us to rearm and they know it. The second way is to come charging straight in, figuring they can mop up the colonies at their leisure after the core planets have been destroyed along with the fleet."
"I'm betting on the second method. It's sound militarily and it's what we would do: kill the home world and inner planets and end the war. The only advantage we can hope for is to stand and defend as close to our main base as possible, thus stretching their line of communication while we can continue to pour into action whatever ships come on line at the last minute. It is the one classic advantage of the defensive the ability to fall back upon your base of supplies, and it's our only hope."
"Easy for you to say," Mike replied. "My entire family's out there on Warsaw, two jumps from the frontier."
"Can you propose any other alternative given what we have?" Geoff asked, his voice filled with a genuine concern. He knew he couldn't simply order men to abandon their homes and families. They'd have to be willing to do it with the hope of final victory and then rescue, no matter how slim the chance.
Mike looked down at his memo pad and then finally shook his head
"You're right, Admiral, its the only way," and there was a soft chorus of agreement.
"I wish we could inform the governors and presidents of the various colonial worlds of our strategic plan, though for security reasons it is obvious we cannot. For that matter, gentlemen, no one outside this room is to have any knowledge of what our strategy is.
"That'll give precious little warning to whichever worlds are in the way of the fleet," Zitek said. "Even if they're coming straight on, they'll still dispatch some cruisers on the way in to scorch the planets directly in their path. They'll have to, they can t afford to leave potential bases in their rear. Nearly every one of those outer worlds has at least one base on them, the major systems garrisoned with troops and orbital bases. They could stand against raiders, but not against what they'll be throwing in."
Geoff nodded grimly. It meant that millions in the outer worlds might die. He could only hope that those who could get out of the way would, heading to remote areas of their world to wait out the attack. At least most of the worlds were sparsely populated, with a lot of room to hide. In the early days of the war the outer regions, except for the Landreich on the flank of the Confederation, had been devastated, and billions had died. The region had yet to recover. It wasn't until Sirius was reached inside the area never touched by the war, that the major inhabited regions were located.
He could only hope they had dug their shelters deep enough to survive bombardment.
"So the colonies are a write off?" Duke asked quietly, obviously wanting to make the fact absolutely clear.
"Local guard units will be given the discretion to stay, but I want everything here for the major showdown," and he pointed at Sirius, hanging in the middle of the holo. "Sirius is where the decision will be made."
"What about the Landreich and Kruger?" Polowski asked.
"I'll ask them for help and for the release of the escorts we signed over to them, but I doubt old Kruger will be amused that once again we're pulling a withdrawal due to strategic necessity."
He could well imagine the explosion that would be created when the burst signal reached Kruger on that one.
"Gentlemen, I want the fleet fully loaded and ready to move within four days."
The men looked at him incredulously.
"Geoff, it'll be eight, more like ten days before we get all our personnel back in aboard ship," Zitek replied. "Even our active carriers had half their crews on leave. Some of them are at the far end of the Confederation."
"You'll find a clause in Emergency decree 394A that allows for the drafting of emergency replacements off civilian ships, and retired personnel if need be for the duration of the emergency. Use it, shanghai your crews if necessary, but I want full ship's complements inside of ninety-six hours. Now let's get to work." The admirals and Marine officers filed out of the room. Geoff looked back down at his memo pad, ready to feed in a long series of orders. Looking up he saw that Duke had stayed behind.
"Something's wrong, isn't it?" Geoff said, sensing that there was bad news coming.
Duke nodded.
"I just got a signal in the clear from Kruger."
"Go on."
"He told us and I quote 'you created this mess, you solve it. Go to hell.'"
Geoff chuckled sadly.
"Doesn't the damn fool realize," Grecko snapped, "that if the Confederation goes down, the Cats will turn on him next?"
"If he comes to help us, he'll get hit from the rear. It's the old classic problem of frontier militia being called up to serve with the regulars — do you leave your homes open to attack by marching off somewhere else?"
Geoff paused, realizing that there was something else to the message.
"You're holding something back, Duke, what is it?"
"He also reported, in the clear, that Tarawa has failed to return and is assumed lost."
Geoff remained standing, staring straight at Duke.
"Damn this war to hell."
Eyes wide with excitement and with the thrill of the hunt, the Emperor turned to face his grandson.
"Magnificent, simply magnificent," he growled, turning back to look out the forward view port of the cruiser that now served as the Imperial ship. Less than a kilometer away, the Kilrathi Fifth Fleet of the Claw passed by in review. The light frigates, corvettes and three destroyer groups had already passed. The last of the heavy cruisers was just passing to port and now the first of the new carriers, Hagku'ka, came into view.
Every fighter had been launched and moved in formation ahead of the carrier, three and a half eighties of fighters arrayed in eight V formations. The bow of the carrier came into view, the heavy durasteel forward edge studded with quad mounted mass driver guns and anti-torpedo launch tubes. Three launch decks, one on either side and one topside opened into the vast interior of the ship, which was mostly comprised of the huge hangar bays, workshops, and armament storage areas needed for the fighters.
Internal bulkheads had been double layered, compartmentalizing the ship so that even if the forward end was shattered all the way back amidships, the aft half could continue to fight. Three belts of armor sealed off the outside of the ship from the interior so that if a torpedo did penetrate the phase shielding and outer layer of armor, its detonation would not burst into the vulnerable inner decks and fuel storage areas. Sealed internal access shafts even allowed for the transfer of fighters from one bay to another for launching if a bay opening were shut down. Just aft of amidship three more launch bays were mounted pointing aft, in the same configuration as the forward half of the ship. The six Yatug class engines were actually buried inside the ship, wrapped in heavy armor, their exhaust vents tunneling through thirty meters of ship before reaching open space. If a spread of missiles were closing from astern, the engines could be throttled off and the exhaust vents slammed shut, the missiles impacting impotently against heavy durasteel. The shields could then be retracted, or if need be blown clear and the engines unharmed, fired back up.
The first carrier passed, followed by four more and the Emperor watched, speechless. So this was the culmination of years of secret planning and the stripping of the best resources of the Empire. All for this, a fleet of ships unlike anything ever before seen in this sector of the universe. When the war with the humans was done, such ships could even stand against the Mantu, if they should dare to return.
"Grandson, with this fleet victory is ours."
"Remember, my Emperor, the fleet is but half the size we planned," Thrakhath said cautiously. "Victory should not be counted until the blood of the prey is in one's mouth."
The Emperor nodded, realizing that his enthusiasm had taken hold too deeply. He was still shaken by the murder attempt. It had been his dream to see at least one ceremony of Sivar in the burned ruins of Earth, for he knew that it would not be much longer before his ancestors finally called.
"Bring me victory," the Emperor finally said, "that is all I ask. You should take Earth in time for Sivar, we'll celebrate it there. Be sure that it is ready for my arrival."
"Yes, my Emperor."
"And as for Jukaga, have you found anything more?"
"Three have died under the question, none have spoken. His path seems to be secured. If we put him directly to the question, the other clan leaders would again object. That path is closed as well."
"Then take him with you on this expedition," the Emperor said quietly.
"Grandfather?"
"You heard me. I've summoned him to this ship, he is in the next chamber. He is to go with you.
"He is head of spies, it is not his role to be a fleet warrior."
"He is a clan leader, a post of honor with the fleet he can not refuse. I think you will know what to do with him once battle is joined."
"It might be dangerous having him with us," the Prince replied.
"You will find a way," and the Emperor turned, motioning for a guard to open the door into a side chamber.
* * *
Baron Jukaga entered, looking around cautiously. When summoned to the cruiser he had not known what to expect, and now the moment had come"Arise, my Baron. Was not the sight of our fleet wondrous?"
Jukaga stood up again.
"Wondrous."
"And what of the Confederation government?"
"Their senate still debates. It was reported however that two carriers sortied from their main base above their moon with a third to soon follow, and that the shipyards are working full time to prepare those in drydock for launching as well. Even though their government debates, their new president is acting quickly, with declaration of war or without. There have been forays by the Landreich into our territory, but no deep penetrations."
"I cannot even begin to comprehend how they function, the Emperor replied.
Jukaga nodded as if in agreement.
And that is why you never won, you old fool, he thought coldly.
"I have a new assignment for you, Baron."
He waited, tense and expectant.
"You go with the fleet to speak to their leaders one more time before we strike."
The Baron nodded. Would they simply arrange "an accident?" That now seemed to be the path.
"I am master of spies, my Emperor. Would not one of your warrior leaders be more appropriate?"
"You know this species of prey the best. It is your voice that they know, let them hear it one more time before we strike. You seemed disturbed by our ultimate plans, let us see if you can convince them to submit and thus save this species you seem to like so much."
He looked around the room, which was filled with the leaders of the new fleet. He was trapped and could not refuse.
"As you command it, my Emperor."
The Emperor turned away back to his grandson.
"Your plan is set, then?"
"Yes, my Emperor. The fleet will head towards the frontier at flank speed. Refueling tankers will accompany them so that we may move swiftly without need of deploying fuel scoops. The Second Fleet of the Claw, with four of our older carriers, will join us before we reach the frontier and make the first penetration, thus shielding our main fleet as long as possible. The Fourth Fleet of the Claw, with three carriers, will sortie towards the Landreich to pin down any forces they might have there, preventing them from shifting against our flank. The First Fleet of the Claw, with three carriers, will make up the reserve. The other carriers have been stripped of their crews and pilots for the Fifth Fleet and will be held in reserve."
"That is ten carriers," the Emperor said quietly.
"You know the shortage of trained pilots has become serious. Either our best pilots went with our new carriers or else the new fleet would be manned by pilots with no combat experience. It will be a year before we have enough fully trained pilots and fighters to bring the older reserve carriers back to operational strength.
The Emperor nodded grimly.
"So let it be," he said, turning away. "Now bring me victory."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Weary with exhaustion, Captain Jason Bondarevsky strode across the landing field towards the command post with Admiral Richards behind him. Stepping onto the veranda he coldly eyed the two Landreich guards at the door.
"I'm here to see Kruger."
"We have no orders to let you pass, sir."
"To hell with your orders, I want to see that son of a bitch now," and he moved to shoulder his way past the guards.
Caught by surprise they backed up slightly and then physically moved to block the doorway, one of them grabbing him by the shoulder.
"Listen, sir, don't make me get rough about this," the guard snapped.
"Get the hell out of my way right now, mister."
"Hold it, Jason," and he looked back at Richards. "They're just following orders."
The guards looked to Richards with some relief. They obviously knew that Kruger would skin them alive if anyone got past. They knew as well who it was they were trying to stop, and even if he was Confederation, he was also a first class hero.
"Sir, if you stay put, I'd go in and get my captain," a sergeant growled, coming out of the doorway to the aid of the two guards.
"Well, damn it, go get him," Jason snapped, and the sergeant turned and went into the building.
Jason paced up and down the length of the veranda angry at everything, his mood made worse by the searing heat of the Hell Hole. He could feel the moisture draining out of his body, barely cooling his skin before evaporating.
He looked back at one of the guards.
"You know something, corporal, this planet of yours truly sucks."
The corporal showed the faintest of smiles.
"I fully agree," he whispered.
No longer able to get mad at the man, Jason turned away.
"Admiral Richards, Captain Bondarevsky?"
Jason turned back to see a very young captain, wearing commando fatigues and barely out of his teens, in the doorway. Though the man was shorter than him by a good half a foot, and skinny as a rail, Jason could tell from his eyes that he was deadly.
"President Kruger is expecting you, sir, come on in."
Jason nodded, grateful to be stepping out of the blazing heat of the twin suns and into the dark cool corridor. He followed the captain down into the below ground bunker, the captain leading him through the blast doors into Kruger's small and austere office. The captain withdrew, closing the door behind him.
"I'm here to see Kruger."
"We have no orders to let you pass, sir."
"To hell with your orders, I want to see that son of a bitch now," and he moved to shoulder his way past the guards.
Caught by surprise they backed up slightly and then physically moved to block the doorway, one of them grabbing him by the shoulder.
"Listen, sir, don't make me get rough about this," the guard snapped.
"Get the hell out of my way right now, mister."
"Hold it, Jason," and he looked back at Richards. "They're just following orders."
The guards looked to Richards with some relief. They obviously knew that Kruger would skin them alive if anyone got past. They knew as well who it was they were trying to stop, and even if he was Confederation, he was also a first class hero.
"Sir, if you stay put, I'd go in and get my captain," a sergeant growled, coming out of the doorway to the aid of the two guards.
"Well, damn it, go get him," Jason snapped, and the sergeant turned and went into the building.
Jason paced up and down the length of the veranda angry at everything, his mood made worse by the searing heat of the Hell Hole. He could feel the moisture draining out of his body, barely cooling his skin before evaporating.
He looked back at one of the guards.
"You know something, corporal, this planet of yours truly sucks."
The corporal showed the faintest of smiles.
"I fully agree," he whispered.
No longer able to get mad at the man, Jason turned away.
"Admiral Richards, Captain Bondarevsky?"
Jason turned back to see a very young captain, wearing commando fatigues and barely out of his teens, in the doorway. Though the man was shorter than him by a good half a foot, and skinny as a rail, Jason could tell from his eyes that he was deadly.
"President Kruger is expecting you, sir, come on in."
Jason nodded, grateful to be stepping out of the blazing heat of the twin suns and into the dark cool corridor. He followed the captain down into the below ground bunker, the captain leading him through the blast doors into Kruger's small and austere office. The captain withdrew, closing the door behind him.