Crineal Chronicles 1: In Hera's Service (31 page)

“You
know I would never risk their lives like that, Sir,” he replied and Ken’Rathel
nodded.

“I’ll
see you tomorrow morning at ten hundred hours for a briefing with Captain
Aldar, here in my office. You’re dismissed, General.” Crineal stood and saluted
before exiting the office with a heavy heart at not being able to confide in Ken’Rathel.

Three
weeks later the Annihilator and her escorts began a series of jumps that left
the strike force within two jumps of the rebel base. Within hours of their
arrival in a section of void that had been designated as their staging area, a
second strike force appeared, this one led by the Armageddon. During the next
day the remaining carriers arrived: Cataclysm, Ragnarok, Destructor and
finally, more than a little late, the Devastator. Once the task force had
assembled, shuttles started to flit between the ships, exchanging the last of
the transferred crew members to their appropriate posts. Admiral Ken’Rathel
used this time to call a meeting of the commanders of the other strike forces
to brief them. The six senior officers plus Crineal met in the main conference
room of the Annihilator.

Admiral
Ken’Rathel stood at the head of the table. “Thank you for joining me, ladies
and gentlemen. I know you must all be wondering why we’ve assembled out in the
middle of nowhere. The news is that we’ve found a major rebel base.” There were
murmurs around the table as he activated a display screen to show the layout of
the base and its defenses. “As you can see, it’s pretty substantial and along
with supply areas and space dockyards there is a large mobile force. At the
time of the last burst transmission there were five cruiser squadrons at the
base. I’m sure you’ve all heard of General Crineal, even if you don’t know him
personally. I’ve invited him here to brief you all as it’s his plan we will be
carrying out under my command.” Ken’Rathel turned to Crineal. “General, I’ll
hand it over to you now.”

As
the admiral sat, Crineal rose to his feet. “Sirs, Ma’ams, Operation Coventry is
to be a frontal assault of the rebel base using our six strike forces. We will
make one more jump to within fighter jump range of the base and then deploy all
of our small craft.” He brought up a display of the proposed attack formation.
“As you can see, the carriers will be at the centers of the formations with
their escort ships slightly ahead of them. The fighter and bomber wings will be
deployed above and below these formations so as not to interfere with the
initial strike. Once all the ships are in place we will jump to just within
weapons range of the enemy base.” The screen changed once more to indicate the
attack path of the task force. “On completion of the jump all of the capital
ships will launch a kinetic bombardment of the fixed defenses. These will be
the initial targets. We have them plotted so we should get our fire off first
whilst they are still targeting our force. The return fire will still be heavy
and this is where I expect us to take most of our casualties.” A few of the admirals
and vice admirals at the table nodded grimly. “Once this initial bombardment
has been launched then the fighter wings will sweep in behind it to deal with
the enemy fighter cover. Behind our Hunters, the Star Bolts will follow up and
launch a torpedo strike against the rebel capital ships. The fighters’ priority
task is to give them cover. The main task force will complete its destruction
of the fixed defenses before turning its attention to the remaining rebel major
combatants. The Hunters will also provide a screen for our large ships against
any enemy bomber attacks. Our Star Rangers will set up a perimeter around the
base area to identify any fleeing transport ships and mark them up as targets
for nearby fighter squadrons to disable.” Crineal paused to see how they were
taking it. Most were nodding, but a rather large vice admiral seemed to be less
than impressed with the speech. “Once the fixed defenses and mobile forces are
neutralized then the carriers will launch marine assault parties so that they
may land and capture the base. The rest should be a mopping up exercise. I
propose to leave our auxiliaries at the final jump point with a screen of
fighters and some scouts. We’ll call them in to us once the rebel base is
secure. I’m sure that everyone will appreciate their help at that point.” A
wave of chuckles rippled around the table. “The final jump will be made under
computer guidance to ensure that all the ships jump at the same time.” The
bulky vice admiral snorted derisively. “Sir? Is there something you wish to
add?” Crineal asked politely.

“I
don’t know how you do things on the Annihilator, General, but I can assure you
that the pilots in the Devastator force don’t need a computer to help them make
a jump,” the man sneered at him.

Ahhh,
Crineal thought, he must be Vice Admiral Arizankis, commander of the Devastator
group. Crineal held on to his temper. “I’m sure they don’t, Sir, and I’m
equally certain none of the other strike forces do either. But one early
mis-jump and the rebels will be waiting for us all. So, to avoid any chance of
a mishap, the jump will be computer controlled and the data package for the
jump will be transmitted to all of the carriers just before we make that jump.
They will then pass on that package to their own strike force.” He could feel Ken’Rathel
seething beside him at the insult to the Annihilator’s crew. Crineal turned to Ken’Rathel.
“Admiral, I’d also like to propose that we transfer all non-combat personnel to
the auxiliaries whilst we have the shuttles making the crew rotations. I don’t
see any need to have crew on board during a battle that can offer us no help
and possibly cause hindrances whilst we are fighting.”

Arizankis
looked confused. “Non-combat personnel? We don’t carry any civilians on our
ships, General. What the stars are you talking about?”

“I
was referring to the recreation staff, Sir. They are completely untrained for
combat and could pose a problem in the middle of an attack. If we transfer them
off beforehand, then it’s one less thing for our crews to worry about,” Crineal
said patiently.

A
sly and nasty smile appeared on Arizankis’ slightly rotund face. “Oh I see. Why
didn’t you say you were worried about your pet? I’d heard you’d got one of
those now.” A few of the other officers looked at each other uncomfortably.

Ken’Rathel
fixed the vice admiral with an icy glare that matched the tone of his voice.
“Vice Admiral Arizankis, you will apologize to General Crineal immediately. His
concern for the crew members in this force is commendable and I wish other
commanders shared that care about all of their people.”

Arizankis
face had gone bright red and the rest of the commanders around the table did
not seem inclined to speak up for him. “I apologize to the general for my
remarks,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

Crineal
nodded to the vice admiral. “Thank you, Sir. I know we are normally in
situations where we don’t have the luxury to be able to move sections of the
crew out of harm’s way; but in this case, I feel that all of the recreation
staff, whether assistants or trained crew who are not rated for combat duties
should be moved. This fight will not be easy and wasting lives unnecessarily
seems to be imprudent.” He paused and looked around the table. “Are there any
questions?”

A
silver-haired female admiral spoke up; he thought she was Admiral Sybilene of
the Cataclysm. “Do we know how many small craft there are likely to be,
General?”

“No,
Ma’am, I’m afraid not. Fleet Intel estimates a minimum of four to five wings
but it could easily be double that, maybe more.” Crineal flashed her a little
smile. “Our fighter pilots are just going to have to stick their heads into the
lion’s mouth and count his teeth. I’m sure we’ll be bringing them back as souvenirs,
though.” That remark caused some polite laughter. “Given that we’ll have twenty-four
fighter wings and six bomber wings, I’m sure that our small craft will be able
to hold their own unless the rest of the rebel fleet turns up,” Crineal assured
them confidently. “I’ll be inviting all of your flight group commanders to a
meeting first thing in the morning to properly brief them on their part of the
fight. I’ll pass the meeting back to Admiral Ken’Rathel to let him brief you in
more detail on how he wishes the capital ship forces to be used.”

Ken’Rathel
stood as Crineal sat and the admiral proceeded to give each of the strike force
commanders their individual orders. Crineal listened attentively in case there
were further questions and the remainder of the meeting went smoothly apart
from a few more jibes from Arizankis. The conference broke up a few hours later
and Crineal noticed as he was leaving that the silver-haired woman intended to
stay behind after the others had left. He shrugged to himself and headed to his
office to make the arrangements for tomorrow’s meeting.

He
finally arrived back at his quarters after a long day. The earlier meeting with
the commanders had left him feeling a little less guilty about the probable
demise of Vice Admiral Arizankis. Couldn’t happen to a nicer moron, he thought.
His next job was going to make the day even less pleasant, he suspected, as Cyndora
greeted him with a kiss.

“Hey
you. How did your meeting go?” she asked him whilst still keeping her arms
around his neck.

“Pretty
good apart from one idiot.” He shrugged. “You can’t have everything.”

“Well,
you take a seat and I’ll fix dinner. What would you like?” Cyndora asked
detaching herself from him.

“Uh…
surprise me from the presets.” Crineal gathered himself. “Cyndy? I’ve arranged
for the recreation staff to be transferred to the auxiliaries before we make
our next jump. We’ll be going into battle after that and leaving those ships
behind with an escort. They’ll be safe from the fighting.”

Cyndora
brought over bowls of beef stew and crusty bread with butter to the table.
“Sounds like a good idea to me. Very nice of you to think of them, Crin.” She
gave him a warm, loving smile. “It’ll be good to know that Jay, Marsh and Xian
will be out of harm’s way.” Cyndora dunked a chunk of bread into the soup and
then munched on it happily.

“All
recreation staff, Cyndy. That includes you,” Crineal stated firmly.

“What??
Oh no, I’m staying right here,” she said heatedly.

“No,
no you’re not. And in this case I’m not going to make an exception for you.  I
want you to take whatever you think you’ll need. Make-up, chocolate, your old
purse. Any little goodies you can stuff into the new purse I’m going to find
you to carry it all in and you’re going to join your friends and wait safely
until the fighting is over,” he said adamantly.

Fear
seeped into Cyndora as she realized that Crineal was trying to set her up in
case he didn’t survive. “Crin, stop that. I’m not going to need anything because
you’ll be coming back.”

He
gave her a warm smile. “Of course I am. But I always try and plan for
everything. There will be another round of meetings tomorrow and then the
following day you’ll join the others and be transferred late in the evening.
Our last jumps will be late that night. You’ll be away from me for no more than
a day.” His partner didn’t look reassured.

“Please,
Crin? Let me stay?” she asked tearfully.

“How
am I going to coordinate a battle if I’m worried about you here on the
Annihilator?” Crineal reached over to stroke her cheek. “I’ll be fine and I’ll
do much better knowing you are safe.”

Cyndora
pushed her bowl to one side and moved over to sit on his lap and hold him.
Crineal cuddled her as she sobbed into his shoulder and the bowls of stew sat
on the table getting cold.

The
following morning saw Crineal in the pilots’ conference room waiting for the
flight group commanders to arrive. The previous evening had seen a lot of
crying from Cyndora and even more reassurance from Crineal until she finally
fell into a restless sleep. He had no doubt that this evening was going to be
more of the same. Eventually all of the officers arrived and he began the
briefing.

“Good
morning, everyone. I hope you’ve all been given at least a preliminary idea of
what we’re going to be doing?” Nods responded to this from everyone at the
table. “Then you’ll all know that in the coming operation our main task is to
provide fighter cover for both the bombers and the capital ships. A second, but
no less important, task will be to chase down any transports trying to escape.
Our scout squadrons are going to form a picket line to alert us of any attempts
to flee. So, first off, I want you all to detail two flights from one cruiser
from each strike force to remain behind with the auxiliaries to act as cover,
and also one flight from your scout squadron, too. The remaining flights from
the cruisers will act as a back stop to the main wings and stick near the
strike forces to tackle anything that slips past us. Not that I expect that to
happen, but let’s not take chances. We’ll slot in behind the opening
bombardment and take out any rebel fighters we can find. I want everyone to
detail one squadron to go after any bombers that are there as well. It’s
unlikely we’ll be able to stop them from launching a first salvo, but I’d
rather not let them get off more than one. Once all the fighters and bombers
are gone, look for targets of opportunity, but don’t get stupid. Stay away from
the big ships and watch for any transports. Once the mobile space forces are dealt
with we’ll escort our marine assault craft in before going back to policing the
area. Fleet Intel says we’ll be facing at least four to five wings, but could
be double or even triple that. Even so, we’ll outnumber them heavily. That’s
the core of it. Questions?”

Thankfully,
there didn’t seem to be many and the meeting wrapped up quickly. Colonel
Barazon stayed behind after the others had left. Crineal smiled at her.
“Colonel, how’s life aboard the Cataclysm?