Admiral's War Part Two (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 10) Page 8
There was a groan in the room, but this time no one complained too loudly.
“Alright, let’s get to work. To start with I want Bravo and Delta squadrons to start a sweep right here in Easy Haven. Next Alpha and Ghetto,” he paused to shake his head. If ships from three League of Brown Power worlds hadn’t insisted on it, he would have refused. But apparently they believed that any time they were grouped together and forced to fight under the command of non-League commanders, they were being forced into a ghetto situation and he’d had no choice to but give in. When he’d tried pointing out that, being Caprian, he was as brown-skinned as the next man. But being of an ancient mixed Pacific islander extract, they’d told him to check his privilege and then started referring to their squadron as Ghetto Squadron in all their official internal external messages—this despite the fact that originally they’d been designated as the F, or Foxtrot squadron.
In the end, he’d had to give them the privileged status they’d so vigorously demanded and have the former previous G Squadron switch letters with them at the price of letting the former G Squadron pick their own name. It was either that or see things possibly degenerate into violence as the previous G squadron was just about ready to rename themselves the Gangster Squadron and embark on a series of supply raids, computer code attacks, and out-and-out bar fights with Ghetto after the Ghettos stole their designator.
It was all a major headache.
“Anyways, A and G I want to…” he said, shaking off his reminiscing in favor of rapid fire spitting out of orders until each and every squadron and ship in the flotilla under his command had their marching orders. It was time to go out and start taking names.
Chapter Thirteen: Reporting Home
“The Senator has just sent a coded message, Admiral.”
“Of course he has. Thanks to an incompetent quartermaster and supply department, we’re behind schedule,” grunted Janeski. “I’ll take it in the hood room,” he replied, referring to one of the most insulated and top secret rooms on the Command Carrier. “Please route any further message traffic from the Senator directly to the hood, Commander,” he instructed.
“Will do, Sir,” said the head communication officer on Janeski’s flag staff.
The following is a computer transcript of a multi-day conversation that took place over the ComStat network, using priority override codes installed into the network by the Imperial ministry of intelligence
“Just what the blazes are you playing at out there, Admiral!” thundered Senator Cornwallis after Janeski sat down and received the message inside the high density hood, a device guaranteed to keep all messages played on it secret from all known current technology. The high density hood was also why this room was called the hood room.
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“I’m letting all the fish that are inclined to fight gather together. They need to be at full strength and allowed to gather into one small barrel, and then we close the lid on it and have a grand old fish fry, Senator,” Janeski replied.
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“You had better get this right, Janeski,” retorted Cornwallis, “there’s starting to be rumblings in the Senate about all the chaos in the Spine—chaos that I planned and implemented so that we could expand the Empire for the first time in twenty years and I could take my rightful place as one of the Three Triumvirs! This needs to go off like clockwork before the Triumvirate is distracted from its losing war on the Gorgon Front and decides to take action.”
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“The Conquest of the Spineward Sectors proceeds apace, Senator. Despite a few early setbacks we are back on schedule; you’ll definitely have that feather in your cap for the next ten year election exactly as planned, Sir,” said the Admiral Janeski.
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“Good. Make sure of it, Admiral and you’ll find yourself elevated to a powerful position in the Senate,” said Cornwallis. “just remember that I dislike it greatly when I hear the word delay.”
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“Everything’s going according to plan, Sir” soothed Janeski, “that said, potentially elevating you to the Triumvirate might be the least of our accomplishments. I think even the Emperor’s throne might not be aiming too high, my lord. There may be a MAN Fragment in play. Retrieving it would be even more important than consolidating the free Sectors of the Spine into a region capable of petitioning for Imperial Province status. I have dispatched strong forces—one squadron of Cruisers and another of Destroyers, and have attached a Marine brigade armed with the new Predator armor—to secure this piece necessary for the resurrection of our god. If it really exists, which according to the intercepted internal communications of House Raubach it in fact does, then I can assure you and the entire Reclamation Initiative that we will find it and bring it home.”
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Cornwallis’ eyes turn hot. “If it exists, find it and bring it to me. We have had false alarms on this front before, Admiral,” he glowered, “but if your information is accurate this time…then you are right: this would be the greatest possible achievement. Such a service won’t be forgotten—as long as we are the ones who can claim the credit. Do not allow it to fall into Raubach or local hands. Do you hear me, my old Flag Captain?”
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“Understood, Senator. Over and out,” said Janeski with a smile, and then the hood retracted and the smile on his face cracked and shattered. “Find me the head of the supply department! We’ve wasted too much time sitting out here refueling and rearming due to the quartermaster’s incompetence!” he barked over his communicator as soon as he stepped outside the hood room and regained access to the ship network with his handheld. “Prepare the fleet—we’re leaving this star system. Tell Nav to set the course for Easy Haven. It’s time to end this.”
Chapter Fourteen: Reinforced at Wolf-9
“So where are we at?” I asked, sitting down in the command meeting inside my flagship. It was a private internal MSP command team and important, here by invitation only, allies inside this conference room. I was sick and tired of this endless series of meetings and handholding, but so far no one—including Rear Admiral Nuttal or the Praxis SDF contingent—had picked up their chips and taken their warships home. One more meeting wasn’t going to kill me, especially so long as it managed to keep all my top people on the same page.
“Well reinforcements have started to slow down,” said Tactical Officer Hart, “but on the whole I’d have to say we’re doing quite good. We’ve certainly received more reinforcements from the individual worlds of the Sector than I for one expected.”
“Their backs are against the wall and the Sector Government has gotten out and pushed. But looking at these numbers, they still don’t seem like nearly enough,” I said flatly, “we need to do more. Either we get more ships here or we build more fixed defenses and hidden surprises for our Imperial friends. Come on, people—work with me here.”
“All nine ships that you left here at Wolf-9 after the battle against Task Force 3 have been repaired and released from the yard,” reported Eastwood, now Captain of Messene’s Shield, “I don’t know how we can surprise the enemy with them, but we’re back in action and ready to take another swing at the Reclamation Fleet.”
“In the same general vein we recently received two former Battleships…I think they’re calling them Jumble class Carriers? Anyway, they were apparently too damaged
to be put back into service as Battleships so the Yard stripped off a bunch of their armor and stuffed them full of gunboats. I see they have a carrying capacity of one hundred ninety eight and one hundred and fifty three boats, respectively, and they’re packed full. So in addition to whatever the stripped down ‘Carriers’ can dish out, we’re looking at a total three hundred and fifty one boats that we can add to the defense of this star system. Please note that not only are the Carriers operating with fewer fusion generators than the original Battleship class they’re based on, but they also can launch only twenty boats in an initial release and a sustained pace of 8-10 a minute after that.”
“Whose bright idea was it to turn those two wrecks into Carriers?” snorted Eastwood. “I’m sure we had better things to do with our time, manpower, resources and so on.”
“Since no one in their right mind would do such a thing, who do you think it was that converted them?” I couldn’t suppress a snicker as I asked the question.
“Commander Spalding strikes again,” grunted the Captain, leaning back in the chair shaking his head.
“He actually has that kind of authority?” asked a slightly bewildered Lieutenant Hart.
“The Chief Engineer is a force unto himself,” I advised the Tactical Officer.
“What does that even mean?” Hart whispered to his seat mate.
“He’s on the recycling committee and he’s repaired most of this fleet. Even the Lancer Division thinks twice now before crossing him, and he has the Admiral’s full confidence,” said the Chief Gunner in a low voice.
“This fleet?” Hart asked with surprise, gesturing outside this room to the ships gathered here in Easy Haven for clarification.
“The MSP, you dink—our fleet,” Lesner exclaimed in an attempt at a hushed voice.
Captain Hammer cleared her throat.
“Sorry,” Lieutenant Hart said, shame-faced.
“Alright, people, I know this is hard,” I said, standing up and leaving my chair to stand in front of the holo-screen in one end of the room. “We’re short of both mud and straw, but I’m still asking how to make more bricks. Let’s take a look at the star system.”
I brought up an image of the star system centered on Easy Haven.
“Our plan right now is to contest the inner and outer system from inside the hyper limit, before falling back on the defenses built up around the star base and its yard. Wolf-9 will be a tough nut to crack make, no doubt about that, but as long as they have that Command Carrier they can out-range anything we have with that main cannon of theirs. As of right now, we don’t have a response for it. Not only does it have the best range of anything on the field, but it’s more powerful than even a top-spec turbo-laser by an order of magnitude at least. Part of why we’re here is to find the answer to this particular riddle. I need all of your help and ideas if we’re going to neutralize that cannon,” I said seriously, my eyes sweeping the table to show how serious I was about this.
“Looking at these numbers, I’m not sure what you expect us to do,” Wave Grinder, our current Chief Engineer said. And simply by the fact that he was the one saying it I had to stop myself from grinding my teeth. Teeth re-enameling wasn’t free don’t you know? “Current armor types and shielding technology simply can’t deal with this kind of super weapon—not in the quantities we have available, Admiral. I mean, sure, give me six months and I could build you some sort of single-use barrier that could block one or more shots from that thing, but there’s just no way with our currently available warships. Even Battleships can’t be upgraded to withstand that thing in the time available. I wager it’d punch right through most Battleships in one shot…maybe two for Rage, but only maybe,” he stressed, “and that’s only because of its new, experimental heavy armor. That said, after all the punishment we’ve taken over here in two running battles…” he shook his head, “if I were a betting man I wouldn’t place any money on it.”
“As eloquent as ever,” I scoffed at the chief engineer. His ‘can’t do’ attitude was once again on full display, shining brightly for everyone to see, “however, despite your well-articulated reasons why we ‘can’t’ stop them, what I asked for was what we could do.”
“I’m not sure we can do anything about that main cannon. Not without taking out that ship and, frankly, we don’t have enough Battleships to throw at her,” Wave-Grinder said sticking out his jaw. “My advice: find something other than an engineering solution to this problem.”
There was a rumble around the table, but no one stood up to cry foul and tell the Chief Engineer how wrong he was. Well, no one but me.
I looked down my nose at the ‘can’t do’ engineer and shook my head. I would have stood up for emphasis, but as I was already standing in front of the holo-screen that wasn’t possible.
Clicking a button, I activated a preloaded file. “As you can see, I’ve been gaming out a way for our Lancers and Marines to get onboard that Command Carrier and neutralize that cannon. They will also take over the enemy’s Command Carrier, if possible, but only as a secondary objective. Their primary objective would obviously be to neutralize that main cannon. After that the rest of our fleet can be brought to bear, get in close, and neutralize the target,” I said, meeting Wave Grinder’s eyes and lifting a brow.
The Chief Engineer did not disappoint.
“With all the point defense I’m seeing here,” Wave Grinder waved at the holo-screen behind me, “and keeping in mind the Carrier’s massive fighter compliment, I don’t see how we’re going to be able to get enough boarders on her to neutralize that cannon, let alone take the ship. Our current shuttles just don’t have the specs for it. Now, maybe if you gave me six months to a year, I could design and build a better shuttle for you,” he finished in a mock regretful tone.
He was one smug little blighter that needed to be take down a peg, or even—
My train of thought was interrupted by a series of whistles and beeps.
“The United Sentient Assembly is in possession of a number of the new Penetrator 3.5 class landers,” hooted Chairman Bottletop IIV. “It combines a slow, stealthy approach with a final sprint mode capable of peak speeds which are difficult for biological entities with your structural ratings to survive. We have multiple extra landers after the recent series of boarding actions, although we lack the patch or upgrade that could increase survivability. They could be made available to your fleet, Admiral Montagne.”
I looked over at the spindle shaped arms, legs and main body of the droid Chairman. “Is there any way we can reduce the sprint speed or otherwise increase the survivability of my people onboard those landers, Chairman?” I asked the droid.
Bottletop turned to the droid beside him and the two of them exchanged a series of beeps, blats and boops. “I will let my current temporary military attaché explain,” said the Chairman, taking a step back, “this is Tactician-without-a-flank-to-turn.”
“I am Tactician-without-a-flank-to-turn,” the other droid introduced himself redundantly, bobbing its head up and down and speaking with a voice that wasn’t nearly as natural sounding as the chairman’s. He, she, or it sounded more like an old style primitive voice synthesizer—the kind that deliberately un-humanized any robots it had been installed into—than anything designed in this millennium. “Although we lack the technology, this design was originally based off the lander utilized by one of your own personnel during the Battle for Elysium. While the Sentient Assembly does not itself currently possess the method, having analyzed recordings of the speeds your personnel have attained with similar designs, we believe you possess the ability to retrofit any landers utilized by your biological sentients.”
“We possess the tech?” Wave Grinder asked with surprise.
“Yes,” bobbed the Tactician Droid.
“Can you show us an image of the lander you based your design off of?” I asked.
“Certainly,” agreed the droid, inserting a chip into the holo-projector.
Moments later, an ima
ge of the lander used by Commander Spalding during the Battle for Elysium appeared on the screen as it took off like a rocket.
I sighed. This wasn’t the best time for Spalding to be absent. Maybe I’d made a mistake keeping him at the Yard, helping to pump out vital reinforcements, instead of keeping him here with the Fleet?
“Do we even possess the design for this lander in our data banks?” I asked a bit helplessly as I turned to look at my staff and warship captains.
“What is this? I’ve never even seen it before,” Wave Grinder looked perplexed.
“Commander Spalding retrofitted an old lander and used it to land an attack force on one Battleship immediately prior to delivering a bomb to the hull of a second during the Sector 23 Campaign,” I explained.
We looked around helplessly at one another and started to search the records.
“I believe that Persus reported Wizard Spalding had sealed his suit and was wearing a breathing device before he filled the shuttle with a sort of green goo—which could turn from a liquid to solid in a matter of moments and back again—so that they could survive the voyage to make their attack,” Akantha said speaking up for the first time during this meeting.
“Green goo?” Wave-Grinder rolled his eyes.
“You happen to have a better term for it, Chief Engineer?” I snapped.
“There’s no need to let tempers flare,” Hammer said, placing a hand on Wave Grinder’s arm before he could reply and then looking over at me. “We’ll figure out whatever this is, Sir. You have my word on it. If it’s possible, we’ll do it.”
I pursed my lips but let it go. This is the last time I allow Commander Spalding to take it easy back in the yard when we need him out here with us in the thick of it, I thought belligerently, silently ignoring the fact that I was the person who’d left him behind despite his strident protests to the contrary.