Barbarians at the Gates (23 page)

He’d checked up on
Enterprise
from time to time—Mason apparently had supporters in the fleet, who had attempted to bring the matter to Marius’s attention—but everything seemed to be running smoothly. Besides, he didn’t have a suitable commanding officer to put in Garibaldi’s place. Mason himself might have been angling for the command—a poisoned chalice at the moment, although
Enterprise
would be repaired as soon as she was brought to a shipyard—yet normally he’d be outside the chain of command. Marius could override the regulations in an emergency, though he would have to account for his actions to a Board of Inquiry. The thought made him grimace. No matter what happened, there was going to be a Board of Inquiry and a Senate Commission inquiring into the defeat.

FAS-836393 had no planets, not even a cloud of asteroids or comets. As such, the system was deserted, without even a smuggler or pirate base. Marius didn’t take chances—Admiral Justinian would probably have been able to deduce his destination—and ordered the liberal use of sensor drones to probe the Asimov Point prior to taking the fleet through to Delta Bannerman. The RockRat system—Delta Bannerman possessed no Earth-like worlds but it did have an abundance of asteroid belts, making it an ideal home for the asteroid-dwelling RockRats—was suspiciously quiet as the fleet crossed from one Asimov Point to the other. It was unlikely that Admiral Justinian had been able to subvert them, Marius told himself; it was far more likely that the fiercely independent RockRats had chosen to ignore his fleet. Marius had considered seeking their help to repair his ships, but it would only have given Justinian more time to cut them off even if the RockRats had agreed.

Golden Harbour was friendlier, although there was little they could do to aid his fleet. The twin planets were one of the strangest systems in the Federation, two water worlds orbiting surprisingly close together. The planets had been settled by mermen—humans who had undergone genetic modification to allow them to live and breathe underwater—and there were relatively few baseline humans in the system. Their handful of orbital facilities were barely sufficient to stand off a pirate attack, let alone a rebel fleet. Marius exchanged greetings with the planet’s president, warned him of the danger and wished him luck. There was little else he could do.

“That bastard Parkinson led us into a trap,” he said to Vaughn one evening. “What did the captives have to say for themselves?”

“Admiral Justinian was very keen to capture the
Enterprise
,” Vaughn told him. “Justinian wanted the carrier intact to serve as his flagship. His Marines didn’t know why.”

“Ego, probably,” Marius said. “Or perhaps he was making a point.”

He closed his eyes. There was no way to avoid the consequences. ONI’s private evaluation of the situation made grim reading. The Federation Navy had somehow devolved into factions over the past few decades, while he’d been out on the Rim chasing pirates. Admiral Justinian might be the first admiral to rebel, declare independence and perhaps attempt to make himself Emperor, but he wouldn’t be the last. ONI suspected that at least a dozen more senior officers were considering rebelling themselves, either to ally with Justinian or betray him down the road—and the defeat at Jefferson would only embolden them. Even if they acted in isolation, without coordinating their forces, Marius’s force would be in real danger.

The thought was bitter, but Marius forced himself to study the situation unflinchingly. He believed in the Federation, in the unity of the human race. Only unity protected humanity from countless alien enemies, or even from its own darker instincts. How many would wage war if the Federation didn’t keep a lid on such conflicts? Too many, he was sure.

And that would tear the Federation apart.

The Inheritance Wars had come close to shattering humanity’s fragile unity. What would Justinian’s War—for want of a better name—do, with the Outsiders poised to take advantage of the Federation’s weaknesses?

He shook his head. Whatever happened, whatever the price, the fundamental unity of the human race had to be protected. The Senate might be corrupt, the Federation might be unwieldy and far too complex and restrictive, but it was all they had.

The alternative was chaos. On a galactic scale.

* * *

Roman had never visited Boskone, but he’d heard about the system. Quite apart from the fact that it served as a chokepoint along the Harmony Chain, it was unique in explored space. The system primary had one massive planet, a gas giant that might well have been a star if it had slightly more mass. Instead, it had given birth to a handful of moons, including an inhabitable planet. Life-bearing moons were rare, but Maskirovka was unique. No other moon had developed an intelligent race.

Even so, there was no time for sightseeing. They’d met up with the Fleet Train when they entered the system and started to reload the ships at once, while sending smaller ships back to the Core Worlds to request reinforcements. Roman had expected to be relieved, yet instead he found himself still in command as
Enterprise
struggled to prepare herself for the coming battle.

No one had any doubts that Admiral Justinian was on the way. If he punched through Boskone, he would be able to push out a defensive perimeter or drive on towards Earth. Either would be disastrous.

But attacking a strongly-held Asimov Point was a difficult task at the best of times. Pushing Justinian back would be costly.

Roman had hoped they would have several weeks to prepare before the system was attacked. Instead, the Retribution Force was still struggling when Justinian’s first probes transited the Asimov Point.

A system with only two Asimov Points is a natural chokepoint, even after the invention of the continuous displacement drive. The enemy must attack through an Asimov Point in order to reach his target. The defenders have the advantage of massed firepower and—often—prior warning.

-Federation Navy Tactics and Strategy
,
4000 A.D.

Boskone System, 4092

The display sparkled with red icons as alarms howled through the
Magnificent
.

“Admiral, we have recon drones transiting the Asimov Point,” the tactical officer reported. “The CSP is moving to intercept.”

“Order Mason to ready fighters and then prepare the remainder for antishipping strikes,” Marius ordered calmly. Mason could handle it. He was competent, even if he’d been demanding that a superior officer take command of
Enterprise
. “Bring the entire fleet to alert and prepare to engage the enemy.”

He settled back in his command chair. The Book insisted that all Asimov Point assaults had to be preceded by recon drones, just so the attacking force knew what it was about to face. It wasn’t a bad idea, even though it was predictable; there was no way to know what was waiting for the attackers until they actually went through the Asimov Point. If Admiral Justinian had had a pre-placed ship in the Boskone System, it shouldn’t have been able to pass through the Asimov Point with the latest updates.

One hundred and twenty enemy recon drones had jumped through the Asimov Point. Seventeen had interpenetrated and died in colossal explosions. The remainder were sweeping local space using active sensors, and had picked up the presence of superdreadnaughts and even a few of the Retribution Force’s jury-rigged fortresses guarding the Asimov Point. The CSP was killing those drones as fast as possible, but Marius already knew they would be too late.

As he expected, a handful of drones flickered and vanished, skipping back to Admiral Justinian with their data. Marius wondered fatalistically if Admiral Justinian would launch the attack at once, or if he would decide to suspend operations until reinforcements arrived from the Harmony Sector in order to give the Retribution Force absolutely no chance of escape.

Marius had picked the Boskone System to make his stand with malice aforethought. Boskone might have had only two Asimov Points, but it provided a place that Admiral Justinian would
have
to take in order to seize later nexuses in order to cut off a third of the Federation from the Core Worlds, or make another attempt on Earth. The crazed logic of the Asimov Points also made it difficult for Justinian to bypass the system using continuous displacement drive. Justinian could reach the Earth in a handful of months through the Asimov Points, but it would take him over ten
years
using stardrive.

No, Admiral Justinian
had
to take Boskone. There was no other alternative.

* * *

“We are receiving the data download from the drones now,” Caitlin said. “Drake’s forces have secured the system.”

Admiral Justinian nodded. There had been many delays while they’d been struggling to prepare for the grand offensive. Far too many of his superdreadnaughts had needed repairs before they could be sent back into action; even though the repairs hadn’t taken long, they had gobbled up time. He’d lost his chance to cut Admiral Drake off from the Core Worlds, which was why he and his forces had come to Boskone instead.

He had to defeat Admiral Drake’s force before he could achieve his overall objective: Earth.

“Launch the first assault wave,” he ordered. By now, his entire fleet should have seen the sensor recordings taken by the drones. “They are cleared to engage at will.”

* * *

“Captain, we have multiple small contacts transiting the Asimov Point,” Sultana reported. “The CSP is moving to intercept.”

Roman nodded, feeling tension rise on the bridge. He hadn’t expected to remain in command, not when Admiral Mason had made his attitude clear with every word he’d said. But by regulation, the captain was the supreme master of his own ship—and even a lowly ensign could issue orders to an admiral when he happened to be sitting in the Captain’s Chair. And yet, it would be a brave or foolish ensign who presumed to issue too many orders to an admiral. If Admiral Mason had been in the command track, he would presumably have relieved Roman a long time ago.

“Launch the ready fighters upon command,” he ordered.
Enterprise
was hanging well back from the Asimov Point, surrounded by a score of destroyers and the other fleet carriers. There was no point in exposing a carrier, even
Enterprise
, to the maelstrom that was about to envelop the Asimov Point. Besides,
Enterprise
wasn’t in good fighting trim and wouldn’t be until she saw a shipyard. “And then...”

“Admiral Mason is issuing orders for the fighters to withdraw,” Sultana said suddenly. “They’re pulling back from the Asimov Point...”

* * *

Standard military doctrine stated that a single starship that transited into an Asimov Point would immediately find itself under fire from the point’s defenders. The Federation Navy had learned that rule during the First Interstellar War, and then relearned it in the opening battles of the Blue Star War. Conventional doctrine, therefore, ordered the use of heavy antimatter bombardment to remove any mines and enemy starfighters covering the Asimov Point before sending the main body of the fleet through the gateway.

Marius watched as the brilliant white light of antimatter detonations started to flare out through the Asimov Point. He’d mined the point as much as possible—there had only been a small supply of mines on hand available to work with—but all of the mines were now being cleared by Justinian’s forces, along with a handful of starfighters that hadn’t swerved in time. He made a mental note to commend Admiral Mason for his quick reaction.

The bombardment was, if anything, growing in intensity. The constant barrage was wearing down his sensors and disrupting his plans, even before the battle proper began.

“Admiral, we’re picking up superdreadnaughts transiting the point,” the sensor officer reported. “I believe they’re ECM drones.”

Marius turned to look at him. “How can you be sure?”

“The sensor returns keep flickering,” the sensor officer reported. “Real superdreadnaughts don’t flicker.”

“Pass the word to the remaining mines,” Marius ordered. “Hold them back from engaging the drones unless we’re certain that they’re real superdreadnaughts.”

“Aye, sir,” the sensor officer said.

It was one of the variants they’d rehearsed during the desperate struggle to prepare a defense strong enough to give Admiral Justinian pause. Even so, it carried its own risks. They might mistake a real superdreadnaught for a drone long enough to let it get its shields up and start launching missiles. On the other hand, once the newcomer did open fire, there would no longer be any doubt about its reality.

For a long moment, the intensity of the bombardment seemed to fade, winding down to nothing. And then the first starships appeared.

* * *

“Captain, we have multiple starships transiting the Point,” Sultana reported. “They’re definitely real this time; light cruisers and destroyers, opening fire on the remaining mines.”

Roman nodded. The real battle had begun—and they were little more than helpless spectators.
Enterprise
was simply too far from the battle to take any meaningful role, at least as anything other than a fighter platform. The battle would be fought by others. He felt helpless...and guilty. Others were going into danger and he was safe, watching while they died.