The Phoenix War (50 page)

“
Exactly
,” said Caerwyn. “And by
moving her fleet against Olympia, there’s no way she can race them
back to her core systems in time to defend against our attack. Not
if we attack from the proper position.”

“That is so,” Sergei admitted.

“And if Kalila’s forces attack Olympia, it
will be easy for us to spread the news to the Imperial public and
reveal her as a bloodthirsty conqueror. Surely you must see the
wisdom in allowing a few to die so that many more can be
saved?”

Sergei looked partly persuaded. Caerwyn
needed his Ministry of Strategy to sign off on this course of
action so that, if it went badly, he could give the man the
entirety of the blame. Of course, if it went well, then Caerwyn
would gladly take the credit.

“Think about it,” said Caerwyn. “If we move
our fleet to defend Olympia, we are letting her choose the
engagements. She can fight us when it is most favorable to her. But
if we take the battle to her, and hit her where she’ll feel it
most, that will change the game.”

“There is strategic value to your plan, but
collateral damage will be
extremely
high.”

“Yes, it will,” said Caerwyn, pretending to
be sad about it but actually counting on that very thing.

“I’ll send word to Olympia, warn them to
prepare what defenses they can and begin evacuations,” said
Sergei.

“
No
, don’t do that,” said Caerwyn,
thinking it would be better if the system was as unprepared for
Kalila’s attack as possible. That way he could pretend he didn’t
have advance knowledge of the attack—so no one would question him
for refusing to defend the system. And, even better, if Olympia was
taken unaware then the catastrophe would be that much more
one-sided and bloody. Which would intensify Kalila’s image as a
ruthless monster, capable of anything. Generating sympathizers for
Caerwyn’s cause. He’d gladly surrender all life on the planet,
despite how loyal it was, if it meant he could finally have his
throne—the throne he
deserved
—and an end to Kalila and her
petty insurrection.

“Sir?” Sergei looked at him incredulously,
clearly not understanding why the Steward of the Empire had just
ordered him
not
to warn one of their most loyal systems that
it was about to be attacked by the enemy. Effectively guaranteeing
an unnecessary degree of slaughter.

“If we send a warning to Olympia and they
begin organizing their defense and start launching evacuations,
then no doubt word will get back to Kalila and she’ll realize we’re
onto her. She’ll abandon her attack and return her fleet to her
sectors of space and then, when we try to attack her core worlds,
we’ll have to contend with her fleets—possibly resulting in our
defeat—and to add insult to injury she would then be able to paint
us
as the aggressor in this conflict,” said Caerwyn.
“
No
, there must not be
any
warning sent to
Olympia.”

Sergei bowed. “As you command, Steward.”

“Now go and organize our forces
at
once
,” said Caerwyn. “We must pluck the apple while it is still
ripe!”

“Yes sir. I will mobilize our forces to their
most strategic location, from there we can strike any number of
Kalila’s core worlds.”

“Excellent. See that it’s done right away!”
The gauntlet is down, time to make her bleed
.

***

“Dropping into Tybur System in two minutes,”
said Alex.

“Stay on course nice and steady,” said
Calvin. “We need to look like business as usual.”

“I understand,” hissed Alex, he sat in the
pilot’s seat not because it was his shift but because he needed to
be at the comm. Ready to respond to any hails they might receive
once they dropped into the system. To be perfectly honest, Calvin
was surprised they hadn’t heard anything from any outposts,
listening posts, passing patrols, or traffic controllers. Just
ghostly silence.

“Do our scans show anything new?” asked
Calvin.

“Investigating that now,” said Rafael,
adjusting the ops controls. As he did, Calvin stood behind him,
looking out the window. Waiting for the blackness of alteredspace
to be replaced by stars. He felt his heart flutter, beating
rapidly, and he had to keep wiping his clammy palms on his uniform
pants.

What is out there
, he wondered.
What is happening in the Alliance
?

“I’ve got something,” said Rafael. “
Wait a
second
, that can’t be right…” He double-checked the readings on
the ops display.

“What is it?” asked Calvin nervously. He
moved to stare over Rafael’s shoulder at the data output.

“Scans show that there are over five-hundred
thousand objects in Tybur space,” said Rafael. “After accounting
for natural solar debris.”

“
Five-hundred
thousand?” said Calvin.
“They can’t be ships, can they?”
No way
, he thought, that
just wasn’t possible. Even the mighty Dread Fleet, the biggest
fleet in the galaxy, wasn’t
two-hundred thousand
strong.

“I don’t know what they are,” said Rafael.
“It’s impossible to get a detailed reading, the scanning equipment
on this cargo ship is below Imperial standards.”

“Cargo vessels only need sufficient scanning
technology for navigation,” said Alex, seeming defensive of
anything Rotham.

“Can you tell how big the objects are?” asked
Calvin. Trying to get a sense of what the situation was they were
about to drop into the middle of.

“Mass and volume readings seem inconsistent,”
said Rafael, tweaking the ops controls. “It looks like the objects
range from dozens of kilograms to thousands of tonnes. There could
be even smaller objects but our scanners wouldn’t pick them up, not
from alteredspace.”

“ETA, twenty-five seconds,” said Alex.

“Be careful not to re-enter normal space in
the middle of those objects,” warned Calvin.

“I know, I’m setting us five million mc’s
away from anything our size or larger,” said Alex. “And I’ve made
sure to raise our navigational deflectors in case of solar
debris.”

“Very good,” said Calvin.

“Fifteen seconds… Fourteen…Thirteen…” Alex
counted down.

Calvin moved next to Rafael. “Status?” he
asked.

“All systems show green,” said Rafael. Of
course there were no weapons systems to protect them and no stealth
to conceal them, so their greatest defense was the strength of
their cover story.

“Good, keep an eye on those scopes.”

“Two…
One
.” Stars suddenly appeared
through the window, piercing the empty blackness with a host of
tiny white lights. “We have arrived,” announced Alex.

“Set standard flyby course and continue at
usual cruising speed,” said Calvin. “Skirt the edges and make for
the far side.”

“I will,” said Alex.

“Rafael, please tell me that we see
something
.”

“There are nine ships in wedge formation
moving away from the planet, it looks like a patrol,” said
Rafael.

“Stay the course,” said Calvin. “Remember,
business as usual. Now, Rafael, can you tell us what the
five-hundred thousand objects are?”

“I cannot identify what the composite
materials are,” said Rafael, “but it looks like… debris.”

“Debris?” asked Calvin. “Debris from
what.”

“
Starship debris
,” said Rafael. “And
not a little of it. What I’m detecting… it looks like a few dozen
ships. Ruined hulls with external blast patterns…”

“A fight,” said Calvin. So the Republic had
attacked the Alliance. “Can you identify the make of the destroyed
ships?”

“Not conclusively,” said Rafael. “Not with
these scanners. But based on the images themselves, they look like
the remains of Alliance warships.”

“Is there any Rotham debris?” asked Calvin.
Imagining the battle that must have taken place here.

“Very little, if any,” said Rafael. “But I am
detecting several ships of varied design in orbit around Tybur. Let
me see if I can get a better scan…”

“The patrol has changed course,” announced
Alex. “They are on an intercept course with us!”

“Hold steady,” said Calvin. “Whatever you do,
do
not
change course.” He was pressingly aware, as they all
were, that a single missile from any one of those warships could
easily destroy their cargo vessel and there would be absolutely
nothing any of them could do about it. Their best chance was to
appear innocent and hope the incoming patrol believed their cover
story and allowed them to pass.

“Scan of the planet confirms that there
are
Rotham ships in the system,” said Rafael urgently. “No
fewer than thirty-seven Rotham ships are visibly in orbit around
Tybur. And as for the patrol ships interdicting us,” he adjust the
controls and took another scan. “Yep. Just as I thought. The patrol
ships are of Rotham design.” He showed Calvin the computer’s crude
projection of the incoming ships.

“Thorpian Attack Cruisers,” said Calvin
knowingly. He remembered how easily such vessels had outgunned the
Nighthawk when he’d fought them in Abia.

“Looks like Thorpians to me as well,” said
Rafael.

“Still think your people aren’t militarily
aggressive?” Calvin shot Alex a look. “What do you call
that
?” he pointed to the display which still showed a
projection of an unmistakably-Rotham warship with a cloud of
starship debris behind it.

Alex ignored him.

“So the Republic attacked the Alliance and
slaughtered them,” said Calvin, a dark feeling of awe overcame him.
And he wondered just how the Republic had managed to take the
Alliance fleet unaware in their own space.

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Rafael,
sounding alarmed and confused.

“What do you mean?” asked Calvin. “Sure
there’s not enough debris here to represent the whole Alliance
fleet but no doubt the same thing is happening to Io Major and TR
307, if not worse.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” said Rafael. “I’m
not just detecting Rotham ships… I’m detecting human ships too.
Fully
intact
. And not exchanging fire with the Rotham
cruisers. Tell me that doesn’t look like a Whitefire Battleship.” A
new image appeared on the display. Calvin had to admit, it
did
look like a human battleship.

“Could it have been captured?” asked
Calvin.

“No I don’t think so,” said Rafael. “It’s not
an isolated case, there are dozens of human ships in orbit around
the planet and docked at the platforms,” Rafael added.

“Could they be cooperating with the Rotham?”
asked Calvin, his lips barely able to form the words.
No, it
couldn’t be
, he thought.
The Alliance hates the Republic,
they distrust them even more than they distrust the Empire
.

“We are being hailed by the lead patrol
ship,” said Alex.

“Moment of truth,” said Calvin. “It’s on you,
Alex.
Make
them believe.”

“I’ll do what I can, now stay silent!” he
hissed, pushing the button to accept the incoming transmission.

Of all the Knights who remained loyal to the
Akira family, Sir Reginald had been granted the tremendous
privilege of commanding Rook Squadron. It was the first thrust in
the war to restore the crown, a menacing force consisting of a
dreadnought flagship, nine battleships, eleven destroyers, and six
support ships. All of them were fast closing on Olympia System.
Ready to do their part.

“ETA?” asked Sir Reginald. He sat in the
command position of the ISS Renown, his heart beat quickly but he
wasn’t nervous. This wasn’t his first rodeo. He’d held combat
command several times during the Great War, when he’d served as a
captain in the Imperial Navy. Though this was his first time
commanding an entire flotilla.

“Rook Squadron is holding steady jump depth,
all ships will arrive in Olympia System in approximately eleven
minutes,” reported the chief navigator.

“Thank you, Mister Shaw,” said Sir
Reginald.

“This vessel will arrive first,” said
Lieutenant O’Hara, the ops chief. “But the others are only seconds
behind.”

“Very good. Mister Matthews, please sound
General Quarters.”

“Aye, sir,” reported the defense chief. A
moment later the lights dimmed and the alarm could be heard
resounding throughout the ship. Summoning all personnel to battle
stations.

“Is there anything on our scopes?” asked Sir
Reginald.

“No, sir,” reported O’Hara. “Not yet.
However, the enemy fleet could evade detection if their ships are
near enough to the gravity well of the star or any of the large
planets.”

“The enemy ships could also be in
alteredspace, still on their way to Olympia,” added Mister Klaus,
the ops deputy-chief.

“Good thinking, Mister Klaus, you’d better
keep a sharp eye on all inbound alteredspace signals.”

“Aye, sir.”

“As for you, Lieutenant O’Hara, keep scanning
Olympia System. I want to know exactly where the enemy ships are
deployed. Forward anything you discover to the rest of the
squadron.”

“Yes sir.”

This is it
, thought Sir Reginald. He
was the tip of the spear that would be thrust in defense of the
Empire. They must bring the rebels back into the fold and restore
the balance. He owed it to his queen and his country and all that
he loved to make sure he did his duty, and did it well.

At five minutes away, he ordered the squadron
to clear for action.

“Clearing for action,” his defense chief
acknowledged.

“The rest of the squadron reports, they have
cleared for action,” said Midshipman Baudin, the comms chief. “All
ships are ready to commence attack at your command.”

“Very good.”

At two minutes away, he ordered the beam
weapons charged and missile-launchers loaded. “Standby to raise the
shields, double-strength forward.”