Alarm of War, Book II: The Other Side of Fear (44 page)

                Citizen Director Nasto didn’t like it.  Didn’t like it one bit.  But he had not clawed his way to the pinnacle of the Dominion power structure without accepting hard truths when he saw them, and he saw one now.  “Admiral, recall the Fleet from Victorian space.  I want them here at the soonest possible moment.”   He turned to Hudis.  “Do we have a DID cruiser in orbit around Cornwall?”

Hudis nodded.  They kept one ship orbiting the Victorian home world in case the Vickies tried something unexpected. 

“Good,” Nasto said.  “Get me a connection to Admiral Kaeser.”

Standing next to him, listening to every word and understanding their implications, Admiral Wagner kept a neutral face.

Chapter 42

On the Dominion Ship
Fortitude

              “Captain, incoming call from the Citizen Director’s office!” The Communications Officer said.  “Alpha Level priority.”   

              Admiral Scott Kaeser said nothing;
every
call from the Citizen Director’s office was Alpha Level priority.  “In my Day Room,” he instructed.  Once there, he closed the door and stabbed the comm button.  Citizen Director Nasto’s face appeared instantly on the screen.

              “Admiral,” Nasto said without preliminary, “there have been some developments here you have not yet learned about.”   Six minutes later Admiral Kaeser sat still, shocked at what he had learned.  The Victorians had a back door into the Dominion’s sector!  God’s Balls, his entire plan for the defeat of the Victorians was out the window.

              “I am recalling your entire task force, Admiral,” Citizen Director Nasto continued.  “We can’t risk an all-out assault on Timor without your force here to protect the planet.

              Kaeser thought frantically. With some of the last ships in from Siegestor – the now dead Siegestor – his force was up to forty-seven ships.  It should be more than enough to protect Timor…unless the Vickies managed to knock out the Might of the People Ship Works.

              “But there is one more thing I need you to do, Admiral,” Nasto said evenly.  “On your way back through Victorian space, you will bypass their home world, Cornwall.”  He paused, looking intently at Kaeser.

              Kaeser blinked.  Of course he would bypass Cornwall. But what did– 

              Nasto leaned into the camera.  “Admiral Kaeser, I want you to make Cornwall
burn
!  Do whatever you have to do – antimatter missiles, kinetic strikes – whatever you have at your disposal you are hereby authorized to use.  I want Cornwall sterilized, Admiral.  I want the Victorians
annihilated.
  When that bitch queen dares to poke her nose out of Refuge and go home to Cornwall, I want her to find nothing but ashes.  Do you understand me, Admiral Kaeser?”

              “Yes, sir,” Kaeser said.  “I understand your order.”

              “Then make it so, Admiral.  And when you are finished, come home to Timor; we may have need of you if that Vicky task force comes back.”

              The connection was severed.  Admiral Kaeser, stunned and speechless, sat at his desk.

              He had his orders, now he had to figure out if he was going to obey them. 

            He summoned Captain Bauer.  Once he was there, Kaeser waived him to a chair.  “Fritz, the entire Assault Task Force is being recalled to Timor.”  Bauer started to object, but Kaeser held up a hand to forestall him.  “Siegestor has been destroyed.”  Bauer goggled at him.  Kaeser nodded.  “It’s true, the Citizen Director just told me.  What’s more, the Might of the People Ship Works was attacked.  No damage yet, but Admiral Wagner says it is vulnerable...as is Timor itself.”

            “But how?” Bauer breathed.

            Admiral Kaeser grimaced.  “It seems that while we’ve been sitting here at the wormhole, the Vickies have found a back door into Dominion space.  They attacked Siegestor, then disappeared and reappeared at the Ship Works.”

            Captain Bauer looked stunned.  “This changes everything.”

            “Fritz,” Kaeser said heavily.  “That’s not the worst of it.  The Citizen Director has given us other orders as well.”

            Then he explained what Citizen Director Nasto had ordered them to do.

Chapter 43

On the Victorian Space Station, Atlas

“Still no word?” Queen Anne looked tired, but at that she looked better than everyone else in the room.

“No, Majesty, nothing yet,” Admiral Douthat confirmed.  She shrugged.  “These operations never adhere to a fixed schedule, Majesty. We’ll just have to wait for Captain Eder to get his task force to the Refuge/Victorian wormhole.”

“And you are confident that when he does arrive, you’ll know he’s there?” Sir Henry asked for the fifth time.

Admiral Douthat suppressed a sigh.  “Yes, Sir Henry, once Captain Eder’s task force arrives, he will be able to signal to us and we will begin our attack.” 

They had been waiting for days now for any word from Captain Eder, but there was nothing. No reports.  No attack on the Dominion forces blockading the Refuge/Victorian wormhole.  And, thankfully, no drones with Code Omega messages.  Admiral Douthat and her staff waited stoically, while Queen Anne and Sir Henry fumed, fidgeted and flirted with despair. 

“Your Majesty, Captain Eder understands that the preservation of the Task Force is his number one priority,” Douthat said reassuringly.  “He will not take any unnecessary risks.”

Sir Henry shook his head.  “Forgive my nervousness, Admiral.  I have complete confidence in Captain Eder.  My concern is with what happens when this war ends.”

“Let’s fight one war at a time,” Admiral Douthat said tartly. 

“We already lost our home world because we were not prepared for war,” Queen Anne reminded her pointedly.  “If we do not prepare for the next war
now
, we will lose it before it begins.”   She turned to the fourth person in the room, Brother Han, who had replaced Brother Jong, now with the Eder Task Force attacking the Dominion shipyard.  “Brother Han, let us talk of the Tilleke.”

Brother Han was very old, easily the oldest of The Light that Queen Anne had met.  His head was bald and his bushy white eyebrows contrasted sharply to his walnut skin.  He looked at her calmly.  “By all means,” he said.

“Has The Light seen any preparations by the Tilleke to invade either the Dominion or Victoria?”

Brother Han pursed his lips.  “Emperor Chalabi made his preparations years ago, when he found a way to set Victoria and the Dominion against each other.  Now he waits.”

Queen Anne glanced at Sir Henry, then back to Han.  “Waits to see who is going to win this war?”

Han shook his head.  “No.  For the Emperor, who wins this war is a matter of great indifference.  As long as the winner is weakened and vulnerable, he will have succeeded.  Victoria or Dominion, it does not matter.”

“So he will invade?” Sir Henry asked sharply.  He did not like being lectured to.

Han nodded.  “When he is ready.”

“And when will that be?” asked Admiral Douthat.

Han shrugged.  “Emperor Chalabi can be very patient.  When he thinks you are at your weakest, militarily
and
psychologically, he will move very swiftly.”

“Can we stop him?” Queen Anne asked softly.

Brother Han smiled at her earnest naiveté.   “I do not know,” he said finally.

A long, gloomy silence ensued, then Queen Anne shook herself and slapped the table.  “Admiral Douthat, the coming battle against the Dominions is in your hands, as it should be.  We will pray for your victory.  Meanwhile, Sir Henry and I shall send out emissaries to some of the other Sectors; we’ll need allies in the war with Tilleke.”

At that moment the door opened and one of Admiral Douthat’s aides entered the room.  He whispered urgently to the Admiral for a moment.  Douthat looked startled, then frowned.  “Nothing from Captain Eder?” she asked.  The aide shook his head.  Douthat stood up.

“Forgive me, Majesty, but there are developments at the wormhole.  I must return to my command post.”

Queen Anne raised her eyebrows in silent question. 

“It would seem, Your Majesty, that the Dominion are withdrawing, but I don’t know why.”

* * * *

              On board the H.M.S.
Lionheart,
Captain Eder turned to Emily Tuttle.  “Think they bought it?”

              Emily rubbed the bump on her nose.  “Some will want to risk it, but the wiser heads will honor the threat.”

              Brother Jong was studying the navigation display.  “Nine hours to the wormhole for Gilead, and then we have a choice.  We can run through The Light and try to get an update on the tactical situation at the Refuge/Victoria wormhole, or we can go directly from Gilead to Victoria using the normal wormhole route.”

              “How long for each?” Eder asked.

              “Gilead to The Light to Victoria will take thirty hours,” Jong answered.  “Gilead directly to Victoria will take twenty, but in either case we’ll come out some distance from the Refuge Wormhole.  We’ll need an additional twenty-four hours to reach it, so total travel time will be fifty-four hours to go through The Light or forty-fours hours to go the direct route into Victoria.”

              “We’re already behind schedule,” Emily reminded him.

              Eder considered.  “I’m going to send the
Tartarus
on to The Light with the Dominion political prisoners,” he ordered.  “I don’t want to have to drag them around with us and whatever intelligence we get will be strategic rather than tactical.  The rest of the Task Force will go directly to Victoria and will move to the Refuge wormhole.”

              Brother Jong cleared his throat.  “May I suggest, Captain, that we go through Gilead with maximum stealth and keep a sharp lookout for Tilleke vessels.  I would not be surprised if we see some.”

              Captain Eder looked at him for a long moment, the nodded.  “I should have thought of that.  Mildred!”

              “Yes, Captain Eder?” asked the disembodied AI.

              “Pass orders throughout the Task Force:  full stealth and any sighting of a Tilleke vessel is to be reported C2C to me immediately.”

              A pause.  “Done, Captain.”

              Eder stood.  “Let’s go home, ladies and gentlemen.  It feels like it’s been a long time.”

              As the others filed out, Captain Eder gestured to Emily to remain.  “I want to commend you on your idea on finessing the Ducks with the attack on the MOP Works,” he told her.

              “I hope it works,” Emily replied.

              “It could, though most of my commanders would have launched an all-out assault on the shipyard.”  He made the comment matter-of-factly, not challengingly.

              Emily shrugged.  “We have two missions as I see it.  The first is to break out of Refuge and recapture Cornwall; the second is to win the war against the Ducks.  I’m focusing on our first mission.  If I can accomplish it without any more pitched battles and the loss of a lot of our people, I will.”

              “You don’t think you have to militarily defeat your enemy to win the war?” Eder asked.

              Emily looked startled.  “No, do you?”

              Eder grinned at her, white teeth against his swarthy skin.  “The enemy is defeated when the enemy
believes
it is defeated.”

* * * *

              The Task Force had almost reached the one-way wormhole into Gilead when one of the Owls raised an alarm.

              “
Lionheart,
this is
Laughing Owl.
  We are picking up intermittent sensor readings that strongly suggest the Task Force is being followed.  Cannot tell the size of the vessel nor its nationality.”

              Captain Eder looked at Brother Jong and raised his eyebrows.  “Not The Light,” Jong reassured him.  “Our patrols were pulled in so that we would not inadvertently bring attention to your Task Force.”

              “Are you sure this isn’t just a sensor ghost?” Eder asked warily.  Gods knew they had chased plenty of sensor ghosts before the war.

              Sadia Zahiri’s reply was long enough in coming that Eder could almost see the scornful exchange of looks on the bridge of the
Laughing Owl.
  The Owls had the best passive sensors in the Fleet; if they said they had an enemy vessel under stealth, it was a fact, not a ghost.

              “No, Captain, no chance of a ghost.  We are getting energy readings and the target has changed course and speed twice to maintain contact with the Task Force.  We are sending you our readings now.”

              Eder looked at the readings.  He had never been a Sensors Officer, but it looked like there was
something
there.  He ran through the options available to him once more, and cursed under his breath at the fool who designed the Owls without any weaponry.

              “Are you confident that he doesn’t see you?” he asked next.

              Zahiri chuckled.  “
Laughing Owl
has no emissions leakage that we’re aware of.  We are quieter than the ambient space around us.  No, we can hear his feet shuffling, but he cannot hear us.”

              “Can you get a recon drone close enough to him to get a solid reading, enough to determine who it is?”

              There was another long pause as Zahiri considered this.  “Maybe, but we are behind the bogie and that means sending the recon drone fast enough to overtake it.  If he’s a stealth scout like me, I’m guessing his sensors are pretty good.  There’s too good a chance he’ll see the drone emissions.”

              Eder shook his head in frustration.

              “‘Course, you could just dump a stealth drone out of your boat bay and let the bogie overtake it,” Zahiri suggested.  “Heck, the drone might not even have to activate its engine; if the bogie gets close enough, the drone will sniff him out.”

              Eder smiled.

              Thirty minutes later the trap was set.  Eder had the Task Force change direction again, only this time as the Task Force fell into alignment along the new course heading, he had the
Wellington, Oxford
and
Edinburgh
all drop back a little, placing the bogie within comfortable missile and laser range.  He also had one of the colliers cross the
Lionheart’s
stern, temporarily masking the battleship from the bogie’s sensors, and during that brief window of time he ejected a stealth drone from the rear shuttle bay.  A tractor beam nudged it onto the right course, then quickly shut down.  The collier cleared the battleship and everything looked perfectly normal.

              Another thirty minutes later and everything was in place.  The bogie was almost right on top of the reconnaissance drone.

              “Bring it up!” Eder ordered. “Active sensor sweep!”  The drone, barely a thousand miles from the bogie, lit up its sensors and pulsed a rapid pattern of energy beams in a one hundred and eighty degree arc.  The energy wave struck the bogie and reverberated outward.

              And suddenly, for all to see, there was a Tilleke light cruiser where a moment before there had been nothing.

              The bridge crews on four different Victorian ships flinched to see an enemy cruiser appear so close to them.   As the sensor sweep started to die away, the Tilleke ship began to vanish once more.  “Constant sensor sweep!” Captain Eder called. “Hammer them!”

              “Open a channel,” Eder ordered.  “Tilleke ship!  Tilleke ship, this is Captain Eder of the Victorian battleship
Lionheart,
drop your stealth and cut your power!  You are surrounded and outnumbered!  Cut your power now or we will fire on you!”

              “Power surge!” cried the Sensors Officer.  “I’m seeing a huge power surge from the Tilleke ship!  It looks-“

              An energy beam blossomed from the Tilleke cruiser and jittered across space to where the destroyer
Oxford
sat primed to fire.  Before it could react, the bow of the
Oxford
collapsed in a slag of molten metal and plasma.  The destroyer’s atmosphere explosively decompressed through the massive breach, pushing the stricken ship sideways into the path of the cruiser
Wellington,
momentarily blocking the
Wellington’s
shot at the Tilleke. 

Another energy beam from the Tilleke cruiser struck the
Edinburgh
a glancing blow, but it tore a thin line of destruction across its hull that belched air and debris.

              “Gods help us!” Captain Sweeney exclaimed.  Then he caught hold of himself.  “Fire!  Fire everything!” he screamed.  The Weapons Officer of the
Edinburgh
mashed a button with the flat of his hand.  A moment later lasers shot at the Tilleke ship, followed immediately by ten missiles.  Shuddering under the impact, the Tilleke cruiser wheeled about and fired a brace of laser beams back at the
Edinburgh,
then blew an enormous cloud of chaff.  The chaff began to expand in all directions, turning an already fluid tactical situation into a hazy nightmare.