Lady
Akurea’s gig slipped silently from the void into the hangar bay of the command
ship, steam rising from its hull from the sudden temperature change. When the
ramp lowered, Akurea disembarked with three of her crew, then the gig lifted
and left as silently as it had come. When it reached her cruiser, her great
ship would join the fight, just another of the many cruisers battling the
Chessori horde as it screamed toward Earth.
She stepped onto a brightly lit, nearly vacant deck,
but her insides fluttered when she saw the burnished disk of Resolve resting nearby. She had spent
months aboard Resolve while
translating Chessori plans for the hypercom. Was Resolve’s pilot, Tom O’Brien, aboard, she wondered? She had not
seen him for the better part of a year.
Seeing Resolve here did not surprise her—the
amazing ship somehow always managed to find itself in the thick of things—but
the numerous data cables connecting Resolve to the cruiser were unusual.
Her brow furrowed as she turned toward Resolve’s ramp.
Lex, her senior Protector, loped ahead to alert Resolve’s
security. By the time Akurea, Stor, and Protector Harriman reached the ramp,
two additional Protectors greeted them.
“Welcome back, Lady Akurea,” Borg said, greeting her
with lifted lips that displayed wicked teeth, the Great Cat’s method of
smiling.
“It’s good to see you, old friend,” she said.
“I have not informed him of your presence,” Borg said,
his lips lifting again in a smile. “He’s on the bridge. You should know that we
have a few other visitors besides yourself.”
Akurea blinked. “The Queen?”
Borg nodded. “And Sir Mike, Imperial Senator Truax, and
a few others. I don’t believe you’ve met Sir Val and Lady Reba?”
Akurea’s eyes brightened. “Only by reputation. In
truth,” she said, turning and motioning with an arm to include Stor and
Protector Harriman, “we’ll know very few here besides the Queen.”
“She’s in the lounge, My Lady.”
“Thank you, Borg.”
Akurea left Lex behind with Borg. She suspected it
would be crowded in the lounge, and one less Great Cat would make a difference.
Besides, she needed no protection here—there was probably no safer place in the
Empire right now even though a major battle raged in nearby space. She knew the
ship well and led the way up the central shaft, then through warmly decorated
corridors to the lounge.
Her entrance to the lounge might have gone unnoticed
had Stor not been with her. The shiny, ebony-skinned Llaska, seven and one-half
feet tall, towered above everyone except Senator Truax, the yellow-scaled
dragon. Stor’s lithe grace and beauty drew everyone’s attention. Even Ellie,
conversing amid a small group of advisors, stopped in mid-word to stare at the
Llaska, a rare sight anywhere in the Empire. Protector Harriman, standing right
beside Stor, went unnoticed.
A smile lit Ellie’s face when she saw Akurea. She stood
up and motioned to her. Akurea, Stor, and Harriman all approached and went to a
knee before their Queen.
“We’ll have none of that here, not today,” Ellie
commanded. “Stand.” She embraced Akurea, saying loud enough for everyone in the
room to hear, “Lady Akurea, welcome. Your reports have been encouraging.” She
motioned with one arm to the rest of the people in the room. “We have lots of
introductions to make, but they’ll have to wait. We’re in the midst of a crisis
here.”
“Anything I can help you with, Your Majesty?” Akurea
asked.
“Not at the moment.” Ellie smiled, though worry
pervaded her features. “I have more help than I need. Can you stay long enough
to visit?”
“Yes.”
Ellie nodded. “In that case, Tom O’Brien is on the
bridge. It’s crowded there, but I believe there might be room for one more.”
She nodded to Stor and Harriman whom she had met during her visit to the first
power plant facility with Akurea. “I’m anxious to hear about your progress.
We’ll get you settled into quarters and meet later.”
Akurea left for the bridge. Mike stood up, and a Great
Cat across the room rose to all fours as well. “I need a break,” Mike said.
“I’ll get them settled.” He motioned for Stor and Harriman to follow him. His
Protector, Jessie, fell in behind them, her four hands silent as she crossed
the deck. When Mike reached the corridor, he spoke into the air, “George, do
you have any spare rooms left?”
“I do, Mike. A-level is starting to fill up. I suggest
B-13 and 14.”
“Very well. Assign B-13 to Protector Harriman.” He
lifted questioning eyes to Stor.
“My name is Stor, sir.”
“George?” Mike asked.
“Done, Mike. Welcome aboard, Protector Harriman, Ms.
Stor. I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure of welcoming a Llaska.”
Mike stopped and held a hand up to her. “Let me welcome
you as well. I’m Mike Carver.”
She took his hand in her own, her gaze sliding
momentarily to the Great Cat following them. “My pleasure, sir.”
Harriman coughed into his fist. “Uh, he’s your First
Knight, Stor.”
The presence of a Great Cat suddenly made sense to her.
After a moment of reflection, she dropped her hand and gracefully lowered
herself to a knee. “Of course you would be, Sire. I’m honored to meet you.”
With Stor on one knee, Mike found himself staring down
only slightly into golden eyes set wide in a shiny, black, hairless head. He
found the experience—being face to face with such an enormous
person—intimidating for an instant, but then he looked deeper. What he found
almost took his breath away. Not only did this woman carry herself with
comfortable elegance, she exuded vibes of confidence and intelligence. Here was
a person he knew he would pay attention to whenever she spoke.
He took her hand and lifted. She took the hint and
stood back up, seemingly without any effort at all. “We’re not big on the formalities
around here, Stor,” he said. “We’d never get anything done if we were.” He
motioned to his Protector, saying, “Let me introduce Jessie.”
Stor nodded to the Great Cat. “A pleasure to meet you,
Protector.”
Jessie nodded but remained mute.
Mike turned to Harriman. “It’s been a while, Sergeant.”
“I’m surprised you even remember me.”
Mike smiled and looked to Stor. “I don’t remember
everyone, but I always remember the best ones. We went through Protector
training together. Whatever you’ve been up to, you’ve been in good hands.”
Harriman corrected him. “It’s more like I’ve been in
good hands, Mike. Stor has more PhD’s in nuclear physics than probably everyone
in the fleet, and she’s stronger than you and I put together. Do you know our
story?”
Mike shook his head. “Josh and I have been underground
on Triton for the past year. We just came from there.”
Harriman’s eyes narrowed, but Stor’s widened. “Triton?”
she asked in amazement. “Rebel headquarters?”
“Our Queen had a speech to make,” Mike said.
“Had?” Harriman instantly queried.
“It’s done. The Rebels don’t know it yet, most of them,
but they’re done as well. Her presence and her words before the Imperial Senate
defeated them. It doesn’t hurt that we captured Struthers and Juster in the
process.”
“Oh, well done, Sire,” Harriman breathed, then he
turned to Stor with a grin. “Sounds like our job’s done as well.”
Mike resumed walking down the corridor, and they
followed. “A lot happened while I was gone, and I’m still catching up. What
have you been up to?” he asked them.
“Uh, I think that’s Lady Akurea’s story, Sire,”
Harriman answered.
“She and I have never actually met,” Mike said with a
frown, “and I need to rectify that. How about a condensed version?”
“We’ve been trying to keep the Chessori from upgrading their
ships.”
“Oh. I guess you weren’t very successful, huh?”
“What?”
“They have quite a few upgraded ships here, big ones.
It’s looking bad for us. The Queen is preparing an announcement to the public
on Earth. She’s going to tell them to prepare for the worst.”
Stor’s hand found Harriman’s as she turned to him, her golden
eyes suddenly brighter in alarm. “James?” she asked.
His demeanor softened as he reached a hand up to her
face. “Earth is one of the four,” he said. “You know that.”
“What if we were wrong?”
“We were not wrong.”
Mike studied the two of them and knew without having to
ask that there was more to their story. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Harriman turned to him with his hand still in Stor’s
grip. “I’m no admiral, Mike, so I’m not able to advise the fleet, but I’d
suggest you consider pull your ships back from the upgraded Chessori and just
focus on the regular ones.”
Mike considered what he knew about the progress of the
battle and said, “I think we already have. They’re formidable. We’re conserving
our resources so we can gang up on them after we’ve taken out the easier
targets.”
“The Queen might not have to make that speech,”
Harriman said. “When I told you we were trying to keep the Chessori from
upgrading their ships, I oversimplified. What we really did was encourage them
to upgrade.”
Mike’s forehead furrowed in confusion, and Harriman
held up a hand to forestall the coming outburst. “They don’t have the
technology to do it themselves, Mike. They had to come to the rebels for the
work. Akurea came up with the idea of supplying the rebels with defective powerplants.
We Trojan horsed them. Some or all of those ships will blow up before reaching
Earth.”
Stor stepped in. “Only upgraded military ships, Sire.
Our work has not affected any of the standard Chessori ships.”
Mike’s forehead furrowed further as he considered the
ramifications of what he had just heard. Too, he wondered why he was just
learning about something so important. What else had he missed during his year
on Triton?
“This is huge!” he exclaimed. “When?”
“We programmed two criteria,” Stor said. “One is time.
The drives will self-destruct after 7,000 hours of continuous operation. The
second criterion is position. Serge Parsons’ engineers programmed four
locations into the drive software. If the drives operate within ten A.U.’s from
the any of those four locations, they will self-destruct. Earth was one of the
four.”
Mike’s gaze lifted to the ceiling and lost focus as he
considered the meaning of those words. Four locations? Earth, Parsons’ World,
and Shipyard must be three of them. What was the fourth? He decided he did not
need to know at the moment and returned a piercing look to Stor. “What’s an
A.U?”
“Sire?” she replied, uncertain.
“Stor,” Harriman interjected, “he and I are both from
Earth. Neither of us knows what an A.U. is.”
She stared at Mike in disbelief, so Mike confirmed
Harriman’s words. “Yes, your First Knight is from an emerging world.”
She continued to stare at him as her head tilted to the
side in amazement, but she answered his question. “Sire, the distance of an
A.U., an Astronomical Unit, varies depending on the star system. One A.U. is
the distance from the primary world to that world’s sun. Your star is tiny, so
I would estimate an A.U. here to be five to ten hours of travel at standard
interplanetary speeds.”
Mike did some quick mental calculations. “You’re saying
those ships will blow up at ten times that, at a point some 50 to 100 hours
before reaching Earth?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Come with me,” he said, turning on his heel and
heading back to the lounge. He stopped there briefly to advise Ellie to hold
off on her speech, then he made his way to the bridge. When he stepped from the
central shaft, he first noticed Lady Krys holding an arm out with her eyes
closed, supported by Protector Washburn. Tarn, Stven, and M’Sada were all
engrossed in the net. Stven’s body lay sprawled on the deck with his tail
occasionally twitching. M’Sada’s upper hands were preening his antennae even
while his mind was in the net. To Mike’s utter amazement, Lady Akurea was just
leaning back from Tom O’Brien with her arms around his neck and a warm smile on
her face.
Washburn shot Mike a harsh glance and held a finger to
his lips indicating silence. Clearly, he and Lady Krys were up to something significant.
O’Brien separated himself from Akurea and herded everyone back into the central
shaft. They dropped down one level, then Akurea introduced O’Brien to Stor and
Harriman.
“We’re off to see Trexler,” Mike said. He looked to
O’Brien. You’re welcome to join us.”
O’Brien shook his head. “Mike, I’m Resolve’s only Terran pilot, and we’re surrounded by Chessori. The
little sleep I get is right here on the bridge.”
Mike nodded grimly, remembering back to his year aboard
Resolve when he was the only pilot. “You’re right.” He looked to Akurea
and held out a hand. “I’m Mike, your First Knight. I just learned about what
you’ve been doing. Admiral Trexler needs to see you right away. He’s fighting
some seriously upgraded Chessori ships.”
With a sharp intake of breath, she nodded. “Very well,
Sire.” She squeezed O’Brien’s hand, then led the rest of them back into the
central shaft, through the hold, and down the ramp to the deck of the hangar.
“I take it you have some history with Resolve’s
pilot?” Mike asked her as they flagged down a transporter.
“Him and Resolve’s regular crew,” she
said.
“Have you met Admiral Trexler?”
“Yes.”
“You probably saw the battle on your way here. He’s up
against a bunch of Chessori ships. Based on drive signatures, he’s estimating
some 3,000 of them have seriously upgraded shields and weapons.”
“We saw very little of the battle, Sire. My ship is not
equipped to see drives, and there are very few beacons operating here.” She
shot a furtive glance to Harriman, then she locked her gaze on Stor. “Three
thousand! They moved faster than I expected. They must have brought all of them
here.”
Stor’s eyes narrowed. “I wonder if their commanders
selected the best ships for themselves?”
* * * * *
Mike
led them into Trexler’s command center. He had already gotten over his
amazement at the place, but Akurea and Stor stopped just inside the doors in
surprise. The double-wide door opened onto a vast, all-white room barren of
everything except lounging crewmembers seated before a hundred or so consoles,
the consoles themselves essentially unused since the crew was in the net.
Clearly, walls and maybe a bulkhead or two had been torn down to create this
place.
Mike put a helmet on, but only briefly. When he removed
his helmet, so, too, did five other senior officers. Mike led all of them to a
glass-walled conference room. None of them sat—they were in the midst of
fighting a great battle—but all of them gave Mike their full attention.
“Lady Akurea, I believe you know Admiral Trexler?” Mike
asked, looking between the two of them.
“Lady Akurea!”
Trexler exclaimed, the stress of battle making his cheeks even more gaunt than
normal. “Last time we met,” he said looking at her, “you brought us a great
gift, the gift of the hypercom. Have you come bearing more gifts today?”
“In theory, yes, sir,” she said, her gaze moving
between him, the enormous praying mantis Sir Chandrajuski; the insect-like
Grand Admiral M’Coda whose upper hands stopped momentarily, then returned to
preening his whiskers; Admiral Buskin; and Admiral Godfries, all of whom she
had met at some point in the past. When her gaze settled back on Trexler, she
said, “Last time we met, I did not fully appreciate the awesome scope of your
duties. That horde out there I’m hearing about defies defeat.”
“We might not prevail this time,” Trexler said, the
anguish in his eyes shared by the other officers. His gaze moved to Harriman,
stopped briefly, then settled on Stor. “And you are . . .?”
“Stor. I’m honored to meet you, sirs,” she said,
deferring the rest of her answer to her Knight.
Akurea took the hint. “Stor is our expert on ships’
drives, gentlemen. The Chessori do not have the technology to manufacture the
large drives required for shield and weapons upgrades, so Struthers agreed to
refit Chessori ships at our overhaul facilities. My team, with her guidance,
has been supplying the Chessori with specialized drives that meet those
requirements. They are not aware that those drives, all or nearly all of them,
are about to self-destruct. I hope.”
Mike watched with great interest as the admirals traded
confused looks, then as one, five sets of eyes bore into Akurea.
“How is that possible?” Buskin asked. “I have never
heard of a drive failing. They’re built to standards bordering on perfection.”
“That’s the heart of our project and why we thought it
would work, sir,” Akurea said. “The Queen approved the project and personally
helped get us started. The rebels installed some upgraded drives in Chessori
ships before we got to them, but I believe most of the upgraded ships here will
self-destruct anywhere from three to five days before reaching Earth. Stor can
give you more precise timing if you’ll let her into your net.”
“I don’t need the net,” Stor said. She looked to the
Empire officers, knowing that Godfries and Trexler might not understand since
they were from Earth. “The modified drives are set to destruct after 7,000
hours of operation or if they approach closer than 10 A.U.’s to Sol, whichever
comes first.”
Buskin was the first to smile. “Oh, well done! We’re
talking about some 3,000 enemy ships dying without a shot fired by us.”
Stor was not done yet. “Yes, sir, but it’s not quite
that simple. The 10 A.U. sphere is centered on Sol, Earth’s star. I would
imagine the Chessori are approaching in a pattern centered on Earth, not Sol.
If that’s true, the ships attacking from the far side of the system will be the
first to reach the plane of that sphere, perhaps as much as 15 hours before the
last Chessori ship. Their early destruction might alert the rest of their
forces.”
Buskin’s eyes moved to the ceiling, though his thoughts
were far out in space. His eyes narrowed, then he nodded. “I see what you
mean.” He looked sharply at her. “We can deal with that. We can attack them
lightly as they approach the activation plane, making it appear as if it was us
who destroyed them. The surviving Chessori will be none the wiser.”
When she nodded her agreement, he said, “This is
important. Will you stay with me and advise me while we develop a plan?”
“Of course, sir.”
Akurea held up a hand. “Sir, I have a few things to
discuss with the First Knight and Admiral Trexler before she leaves. We won’t
be long.”
After the admirals cleared the room, Akurea sat back
against the conference table and folded her arms across her stomach. “I was
aboard Resolve during the last battle for Earth. This one sounds far
more challenging.”
Trexler glanced briefly toward Mike, then back to her,
and said, “Off the top of my head, the gift you’ve given us will make a
difference, but it’s still going to be close.”
“And if you lose, humanity dies.”
Mike’s stomach turned over, and a sour taste reached
his mouth. What she had said was always at the forefront of his and Trexler’s
thoughts, but they rarely voiced it out loud. They just stared at her.
Akurea stared back, shifting her gaze between them. “I
hope things don’t get so bad that what I’m going to tell you comes into play,
but as the two senior Terran leaders, you should know.” She looked to Stor and
gave her the tiniest of nods.
Stor wasted no time, knowing Admiral Buskin was waiting
for her. “Protector Harriman is a Terran,” she said. “We had to don space suits
during our first mission. When I checked his settings, I discovered that his
breathing mixture was precisely identical to my own. I commented on the fact
and asked him where he was from. Earth’s location was, at the time, an Imperial
Secret. It might still be, I don’t know. He cleverly misled me by telling me he
was from a world called Atlantis.
“Months later he was wounded. As I attended to his
wounds, I discovered marks on his chest.”
Harriman unsealed his tunic, talking to Mike and
Trexler as he did so. “I’m from Australia. Most people call me an Aborigine, a
source of great pride to me. My people consider body markings a form of art. I
received my markings when I reached adulthood and have maintained them ever
since.” With his tunic pulled away from his left shoulder and chest, he
displayed a double row of white dots that arced down from near his shoulder,
around his nipple, then almost to the center of his chest. “Anthropologists
believe that the Aborigine people might be the most ancient of modern people on
the planet. We date our settling of Australia back at least 50,000 years.”
Stor took up the story again. As she spoke, she
unsealed her own tunic and pulled it away from her left shoulder, displaying a
set of body markings similar to Harriman’s.
“My people never joined the Empire. A consequence of
that choice is that we do not receive Empire protection. Slavers call from time
to time, and I was sold into slavery as a young girl. I received this marking
on the day I was taken from my world. For me, it is not a mark of adulthood. It
is a brand that prevents me from returning, ever.”
Mike sucked in a breath, never having met a slave.
Trexler had never met one either, but Stor’s words did not come as a complete
surprise to him. His lips compressed as he nodded.
“Our ancient tales tell of us being taken from one
world and resettled on what is now our home world,” Stor continued. “Knowledge
of why we were taken was lost to the ages, but I clearly recall an ancient tale
that speaks of Atlantis.”
She stopped talking and let them put the facts
together. Trexler stared at her but said nothing. Mike was a little more
verbal. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? We don’t . . . well, heck,
we’re both humanoid, but the resemblance stops there.”
“Does it?” she wondered aloud. “How long have the
Chessori been around? Might they be why some other star-faring civilization
relocated my people, possibly genetically altering our appearance to help us
hide? Might our racial fear of discovery by the Chessori be the reason we
refuse to join the Empire?”
“Why would someone want to hide you?” Mike asked.
“Of the hundreds of thousands of civilizations in the Empire,
only Terrans are immune to the scree. Oh—and my people, the Llaska.”
Mike and Trexler stared at her in awe, then at each
other. Mike decided they would have to do some research, clearly, but in the
meantime, he said, “You, young lady, are now an Imperial Secret. The potential
implications are both wonderful and enormous on so many different levels.”
Stor
left to join Admiral Buskin on the net. Trexler led Akurea, Harriman, and Mike
on a hunt for vacant work stations, planning to invite them into the net for a
briefing on the battle. On the way, Trexler began the briefing, saying, “We
modified five space tugs to act as command vessels. They are unarmed, and they
are shielded only enough to keep the crew safe from radiation. We outfitted
them with extremely delicate sensors that, among other things, can see ships’
drives as far out as standard ships see beacons. The Chessori have finally
wised up to our technique of attacking without beacons.
“The ship we’re on is our sixth command vessel. It’s a highly-modified
cruiser with the same sensing capabilities as the tugs. We carry shields and
weapons, but they are deactivated now to allow our sensors to see without
hindrance.
“Empire cruisers have, historically, been used to show
the flag—their very presence was enough to frighten the staunchest enemy. This
cruiser will never be used in that capacity. We designed it to run large
battles and nothing else. Notice the bare walls. We do everything from inside
the net, so we don’t need the distractions of screens. We even hold most
meetings inside the net. We’ve outfitted the ship with multiple tightbeams, so
we are not limited in our ability to talk privately with our fighting ships.”
He shifted his gaze to Harriman. “Have you heard of
Parsons’ World?”
“I have, sir,” he answered. “Parsons’ World engineers
developed the altered software we installed in the Chessori drives. Stor tells
me the design is amazingly complex and well thought-out. She doesn’t think
anyone will ever stumble upon the Trojan horse they inserted.”
Trexler shook his head with a twinkle in his eyes and
the hint of a smile on his face. “Figures,” he said, looking at Mike. “Serge
has his fingers in everything.” Focusing back on Harriman, he said, “Parsons’
World also built the AI for this ship. Its name is Gomer. It’s not a
George, but it’s far more capable than AI’s on standard cruisers.”
An Empire lieutenant commander approached them and
addressed Trexler. “Sir, Admiral Godfries is asking for you.”
“Very well, Commander. Do you have time to help these
three get into the net?”
“Of course, sir.”
“If you can spare the time, stay with them long enough
to brief them on what’s happening.”
“Yes, sir.”
Trexler took his leave and went off to do whatever it
was that admirals do. Commander Tealae, a petite but athletic looking young
black woman with a full head of tight curls, beautiful, expressive eyes, and
bright white teeth when she smiled, introduced herself, then waited for someone
to introduce the rest of them.
Mike did the honors. “I’m Sir Mike, your First Knight.
These two are Lady Akurea and Protector Harriman. Jessie is my Protector. What’s
your job here, Commander?” he asked.
She stared at him, speechless, then she went to a knee.
Among all the things he was still getting used to since
returning to the Empire from his year underground on Triton, the constant
bowing and fawning over the royal family and his Knights was the most tiring.
There was little he could do about it, the formalities seemed ingrained into
everyone in the Empire, but he did not have to like it. Terrans rarely troubled
themselves with kneeling before him and his Knights, though in fairness, most
of the Knights were Terrans themselves and did not like the tradition any more
than he did. As someone new to the Empire, he was not out to change centuries
of tradition, but he could and did limit those traditions when he could.
He reached down and lifted Commander Tealae’s chin.
“Stand, Commander. There will be no more of that around me in the middle of a
battle. Understood?”
“Yes, Sire. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He looked sternly into her eyes. “You do know who else
is on this boat, don’t you?”
“I . . . heard rumors, Sire.”
“She takes a very personal interest in what we do.
Don’t be surprised to find her in here from time to time. So . . . what’s your
job?”
“I’m newly appointed to Admiral Buskin as one of his
aides. I mostly run errands. I’m probably the most junior person in the room
and one of just a handful of Empire officers. This is almost entirely a Terran
operation.”
“I guess that makes sense. It’s their home world
they’re trying to protect.”
“It’s way more than that, Sire. I’ve spent my fair share
of time aboard a cruiser. We Empire sailors are useless against the scree. The Terrans do nearly all the
fighting.”
“Hmm. I would imagine that’s a sore point, eh?”
“Very much so, Sire. We have a saying among ourselves:
‘Better useless than dead.’ We’ll get our fleets back some day.”
Mike nodded. “Just so we’re clear here, I’m from Earth,
and so is Protector Harriman.”
Tealae paled. “Thank you for telling me, Sire. Is that
general knowledge?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not big on unnecessary secrecy.
It’s only a secret insofar as Earth is a secret.”
Tealae nodded thoughtfully. “I understand, Sire.” She
led them to a table with several unused net connections, and all of them donned
helmets, then they met inside the net. “Would you like a tour of the ship?” she
asked.
“Maybe another time,” Mike replied. “We’re here to
study the battle.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Tealae thought a command to Gomer, the ship’s
Artificial Intelligence, and an instant later they found themselves looking
down on the solar system from a point high above the plane of the ecliptic. The
scale was so tiny that details were hard to decipher.
“This is the big picture,” Tealae said. “The Chessori
showed up all around the periphery of the system, essentially simultaneously.
We have not detected any organization to them. They’re each following
individual trajectories toward Earth, like it’s every man for himself. They’re
inbound to Earth with their beacons off. Because of the long distances involved
here in the outer system, the Chessori drive signatures take anywhere from a
few minutes to an hour to reach the sensors on our command ships. Gomer, our
AI, is correcting everything to keep the view as up-to-date as possible, but
information from the far side of the system can be hours old by the time it
reaches us. Everything you see here is based on predictive algorithms which are
quite accurate for this large view. They suffer when we move closer to the
action.”
Six umbrella-shaped areas encapsulated the solar
system, all of them 3-dimensional. “What are these?” Mike asked, pointing to
them.
Tealae lifted an arm and moved a finger along an
outlined wedge of space. “We have six command ships—five tugs and this cruiser.
Each of them commands one of these sectors.”
She issued a command to Gomer and each of the sectors
filled in with a different color. Mike suddenly saw the pattern. The sectors
connected to each other in a pattern that resembled the surface of a soccer
ball, a ball with Earth at its center. Together, the six sectors enclosed all
the attacking Chessori ships. Seen from this distance, the Chessori fleet
occupied the surface of a shrinking sphere just inside the orbit of Neptune.
Since the Chessori did not have fast ships, the fighting would reach Earth in
about two weeks.
“Out of curiosity, Commander, does anyone use this
presentation? It doesn’t give much detail,” he asked.
“Certainly, Admirals Trexler and Godfries do. Trexler
is in overall command and always keeps the big picture in mind.”
“I thought this was Godfries’ battle.”
“It is, Sire, but he reports to Trexler who has final
say on the battle plan. Admiral Godfries executes the plan. Admiral Steve
Brinson commands the sector we are in, one of the six sectors. Commanding a
sector places him in direct, intimate contact with our fighting ships, whereas
Godfries and Trexler manage the big picture. Admiral Buskin is our senior
Empire admiral. He has responsibility for all the Empire crews in the system,
and he stays available for technical advice since the Terrans are neophytes when
it comes to space travel.”
Her eyes widened and a look of chagrin filled her face.
“Sorry, Sire! That came out wrong.”
A grin found its way to Mike’s face. “Don’t be sorry.
You’re right—we are neophytes. Around me, Commander, I insist you call
things the way you see them. No sugar-coating.”
Tealae, still looking chastened, replied, “Yes, Sire.”
“So, what are the numbers here?” Mike asked.
“The Chessori started with 30,000 ships. We have 1,500
fast ships, so each of our ships needs to take out about two Chessori each
day.”
Mike lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve seen us do way better
than that.”
“The problem is finding them, Sire. Our ships spend
most of their time searching. They were designed to hunt beacons, but the
Chessori beacons are off.”
Tealae shifted the display to a schematic of one of the
five command ships. Seen from the side, the ship resembled a shiny, gold
scimitar. From above, the ship resembled a golden teardrop.
“This used to be a space tug,” she explained. “It was
converted on Earth into a command post. It’s outfitted with sensors in place of
weapons, sensors that are too sensitive to see through a shield, so the ship is
completely unprotected. In addition to its crew and senior staff, it carries 50
controllers who coordinate the activities of its fleet, and it fields numerous
tightbeams for private communication with that fleet. Without the sensors on
these command posts, we would not even know about the Chessori attack since
they’ve kept their beacons off since arriving.”
Mike did not say anything, but the concept of these listening
posts as he thought of them was his own. Serge Parsons had fleshed out
Mike’s simple concept and created a vital command tool.
“The ship we’re on is also a command post,” Tealae
continued, “but it’s a converted cruiser. It, too, operates without weapons and
shields, but in addition to the tugs’ capabilities, this ship houses our senior
commanders and their staffs. Our commanders devise strategies, then their
staffs hand those strategies down the line to the various command levels until
they reach specific fighting ships.
“So, we have six command ships, each of them unarmed or
minimally armed, each of them operating without defensive shields, but all of
them fast ships. If we sense a nearby threat, we will jump away. Each command
ship is geometrically positioned inside its sector to minimize the transit time
of messages to and from its fleet of fighting ships.” With a thought from her,
communication lines that resembled an umbrella sprung into place connecting the
command ships to their fleets, giving Mike the impression that the command
ships were drawing the battle to themselves as they flew backwards toward
Earth.
Mike pointed to four tiny spheres and one large sphere
on the display, all of them well inside the attacking Chessori fleet. Another
tiny sphere popped into position as he watched. “What are these?” he asked.
Tealae zoomed in on the large sphere just inside the
orbit of Saturn. “It’s labeled Event Horizon,” she said with a furrowed
brow. “I don’t know why. Event horizons are generally associated with
singularities.” She looked up sharply at Mike. “I believe they’re called black
holes by you Terrans, Sire.”
Mike nodded absently, saying, “Yes, I know what a
singularity is.” He looked a question to Akurea.
She knew exactly what he wanted to see and asked
Tealae, “Commander, will you add a 10 A.U. sphere to the display, please?”
Tealae issued the instructions to Gomer. Instead of a
new sphere popping into existence, the existing sphere just blinked, then
steadied, indicating it was already depicting 10 A.U.’s.
Akurea nodded. “It’s our 10 A.U. boundary, Mike.” When Tealae
looked a question to her, Akurea lifted her own eyebrows in response. “I’m not
sure you have the appropriate security clearance, Commander.”
“If it has anything to do with the battle, I do, My
Lady. Admiral Trexler relaxed all such requirements as they relate to the
battle.”
“Hmm. Can you move us in a little closer? I’d like to
look at some of the enemy ship dispositions.”
“Yes, My Lady. Do you mind if I check out these other
areas first?”
“Please do.”
Tealae highlighted a tiny sphere located much closer to
Earth. It was labeled Ballistics/Radar. So, too, were four similar
spheres.
“Sorry, I don’t have a clue. If you have a moment, I’ll
find out,” she said.
Akurea held up a hand. “No need, Commander. They’re
almost certainly groups of canisters carrying toxin on ballistic trajectories
to Earth.” She looked to Mike. “That will be Krys’ doing. You saw her on Resolve’s
bridge. That’s how she does it.” Mike nodded grimly, and Akurea turned back to
the display. “How long before they reach Earth, Commander?” she asked.
Tealae mentally fiddled with controls, then said, “A
few hours after the main fleet of Chessori.”
Akurea nodded. “It’s their fail-safe. They have no idea
we know about them.”
Tealae clearly hoped for further explanation, but when
none came, she expanded the scale of the presentation, bringing one of the six
sectors into full view. “This is what our command ship sees with its sensors,”
she said.
Two hundred fifty Empire ships and thousands of
Chessori ships spread across space before them. “We’re seeing Chessori drives,
but those ships are constantly altering their trajectories to throw us off. The
images we see are anywhere from a few minutes to many minutes old by the time
they reach us, so the positions are not precise. The AI is correcting these
positions to its best guess as to where they are right this moment.” She moved
in on a nearby Chessori cruiser which had a small sphere around it. “Because of
the uncertainty factor, the ship can be anywhere within the sphere boundary.
Here in the Outer System, vast distances separate enemy ships. As they approach
Earth, that distance will shrink logarithmically. If I was to assign one of our
ships to this target, the location I send it is already minutes old. It will
take a few more minutes for my message to reach our ship, then it will take
more minutes for that ship to approach the area of its target.”
She spoke to Gomer, and the sphere around the target
ship expanded significantly. “This would be the size of the search area if I
assigned one of our ships to that target. The farther away our target is from
us, the older the data is relating to it, meaning the search area is larger. As
I said, our fighting ships, cruisers and frigates, can fast-ship, but they were
designed to find beacons, not ships’ drives. They have to get very close
to sense Chessori drives.”
“So, there’s a lot of time spent searching before
engaging the target,” Mike said.
“Yes, Sire. We’ve never fought a battle of this nature.
It’s taking a maximum effort from each of us. Everyone knows the stakes, so
there’s no hesitation or complaining. If anything, our commanders are having to
force us to take breaks.”
Mike switched gears and considered what the battle
would be like from the bridge of a fighting ship. He had never had the
opportunity to attend formal training schools, but he had captained Resolve
through several battles and knew what it was like.
“Our command ships are operating without shields to
improve the range of their sensors,” he said. “Do you know if our fighting
ships are doing the same?”
Tealae continued staring at Mike, but Mike sensed
correctly that her thoughts were elsewhere. She mumbled something that sounded
like, “These are fighting ships. It’s completely against doctrine,” then she
blinked a few times and brought her focus back to Mike.
“I don’t know, Sire. We never go into space unshielded
. . . well, not until you Terrans developed these command posts. I doubt if our
crews have considered the idea.”
“Would you be willing to forego shields if you were
captaining one of those ships?”
“I would during the search phase. It’s a risk, but I
would say it’s an acceptable risk. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll discuss it with my
boss, Admiral Buskin. It could make a difference.”
Mike held up a virtual hand. “Hold on. You only get so
many opportunities to interrupt admirals when they’re engaged in battle. Let’s
make sure we’re ready. What else can you show us?”
“We haven’t looked closely at the Chessori yet. And we
have several last-ditch defenses in orbit around Earth. It will be bad if the
Chessori ever get that far though.”
“Let’s save Earth’s defenses for later. I’d like to
focus on what we’re doing right now.”
“Very well, Sire.” Tealae zoomed the image in on a
Chessori military ship. “They only have a few types of ships, Sire. This one is
their equivalent of our cruiser. They also have many frigate class ships. About
10% of their ships carry upgraded shields and weapons. They’re formidable,
Sire. We’ve lost several ships to them, and Admiral Trexler made the decision
to leave them for later. Targets are targets, and he wants to take out the
largest number of targets in the shortest amount of time. I believe the plan is
to send super squadrons of multiple cruisers against the upgraded Chessori when
the time comes.”
Stor chose that moment to join them on the net. Her
presence was a shock to Tealae who, along with most of the rest of the Empire,
had never seen or even heard of a Llaska. Stor stood behind Harriman with her
virtual hands on his virtual shoulders, towering over everyone.
“It’s as I thought,” she said. “There will be a 14-hour
interval during which the upgraded Chessori ships will reach the event
horizon as we’re calling it. That’s a long period of time—they might figure
out what’s happening—so we’ll attack every upgraded ship as it approaches the
horizon. We won’t have to attack hard, just hard enough to convince the rest of
the Chessori that it’s us who are taking them out, not their own drives.”
Tealae looked from face to face, clearly not
understanding a word of what had been said.
Mike brought her up to date. “Commander, everyone here
will know soon enough, so I guess we can let you in on the secret. Lady Akurea,
Stor, and Protector Harriman have been secretly selling upgraded drives to the
Chessori, drives that power the upgraded shields and weapons that you mentioned.
The drives on most of those upgraded ships out there are going to self-destruct
when they reach a point 10 A.U.’s out from Sol, the event horizon you showed us
earlier.”
It only took Tealae a moment to process the words Mike
had spoken. As soon as she did, her gaze moved to each of the three, then she
went down on a virtual knee with her head bowed. “I’m honored to know you, My
Ladies, Protector Harriman. You have made an enormous difference to the outcome
here.”
“On your feet, Commander,” Akurea said. “It wasn’t that
long ago I was a commander myself. I ran an overhaul facility when Lady Krys
found me.”
Mike added his own thoughts. “Do you know about the
hypercom, Commander?”
“Of course, Sire.”
Mike nodded his head toward Akurea, and Tealae got the
message.
“You are truly a Great One, My Lady. The hypercom has opened
entirely new avenues of opportunity to our commanders as they position our
fighting forces. As for our civilization . . . well, I’m sure you appreciate
the impact it will make.”
Akurea looked off into the distance before saying, “Not
entirely. What’s next?”
Mike spoke up before Tealae had a chance to dive into
something else. “I’ve been out of touch for quite a while. Did my little round
spaceships ever become a reality?”
Tealae was approaching her limit of amazement. “They’re
your jawbreakers, Sire?”
“Jawbreakers?”
“Uh, small, four-man gun platforms. Each one mounts the
equivalent of two heavy cruiser guns. We’re operating them in flights of four.
I hear they’re effective.”
“What about the scree? I haven’t felt it here.”
Tealae shuddered. “Nor have I, Sire. We have reports of
sporadic scree. It’s been unpredictable, so our Terrans have had to stay
at the helm. We can’t afford to let the Chessori take out a whole ship without
a fight.”
As a Protector, Harriman usually stayed in the
background, but he did not hesitate to jump into conversations when he felt it
appropriate, as he did here. “Mike, walk through this with me,” he suggested.
“We know that the Chessori . . . well, actually the K’tiri guild of the
Chessori . . . consider themselves far superior to everyone else. Waverly has
killed a bunch of them, and we took out a whole bunch of them during their last
attack on Earth. They don’t strike me as the sort to throw themselves on their
swords. If I was them, I doubt if I’d be willing to sacrifice the lives of
another 30,000 shiploads of K’tiri. I’d think of a better way. I’m wondering if
maybe the K’tiri are just on the upgraded ships.”
Mike stared at him while his mind wrapped itself around
the concept. “Who would be flying the other ships?” he wondered softly to
himself.
Harriman heard him. “Regular Chessori? The ones with
weaker screes? It sounds like our guys are hitting them from fairly far
away, maybe beyond the range of a weak scree.”
“Mike, I agree with him about the K’tiri,” Akurea said.
“They are not physically strong, and they’re not the best fighters, but we’ve
always given them high marks for cleverness. It’s reasonable to figure they’re
learning from their mistakes just as we are.”
“You know more about them than anyone in the Empire.
How would you structure this attack if you were in their shoes?” Mike asked.
The display suddenly disappeared, and they found
themselves standing on a seashore with the waves lapping up against the
shoreline just below them. Tealae stood frozen in place, dumbfounded, wondering
if the ship had taken a hit that damaged the AI. Mike, on the other hand, felt
a strong sense of déjà vu. A pounding sounded in the distance, then a knight
dressed in shiny armor, with a white cape fluttering behind him and a white
feather streaming from his helmet, emerged from the mist riding a white
stallion. He pulled up before them and dismounted, then he went to one knee.
“Sir George at your service.”
Mike frowned. “Come on, George. What’s up?” he
demanded.
The Knight stood up. “I’ve been monitoring your
conversation. Well . . . I’ve been monitoring lots of things. Protector
Harriman’s idea got me to wondering—the K’tiri might very well only be on the
upgraded ships. Those ships will offer superior, possibly unbeatable
protection. That leaves the question of who is flying the other ships.”
George paused, then said, “I don’t think anyone is
flying them, Mike. I ran a quick review of how they maneuver when under attack
from our ships . . . well, I’m still running it . . . and I believe those ships
are automated.”
“How could you possibly know that?” Mike asked.
Stor and Tealae both spoke up at the same time. “Random
maneuvering.”
George turned to them. “I’m not easily impressed, but
I’m impressed! Are the two of you mathematicians?”
“Yes,” Stor answered.
“Among other things,” Tealae said. “Who are you?”
“Sir George.” George turned back to Mike. “Pilots try
hard to maneuver in random patterns so attackers cannot prejudge their
positions, but pilot’s brains are not random. Consequently, their maneuvers are
not strictly random. Patterns become predictable to some extent. That’s how
AI’s provide projected movements to our gunners. The standard Chessori ships
here are maneuvering in completely random patterns, meaning there is no pattern
at all. You might want to adjust the AI’s on your ships to compensate for this
automated randomness.”
“Okay. Anything else going on I should know about?”
“Lots, but it can wait. Krys completed her task. I’ve
forwarded the information to Trexler. I believe he’s going to pick up a
canister for analysis.”
“Are you confident of your projections?”
“Childs’ play, Mike—they’re on simple, ballistic
trajectories. We’ll get close, then locate them precisely with our radars.”
“Are you going to do it yourself?”
“Not this time.”
“I want to set up a hypercom link to Serge Parsons. Can
you have it ready when I get back?”
“I can’t activate my hypercom inside the cruiser. I
either exit the ship, or you use one of the cruiser’s hypercoms.”
“Very well. I’ll let you know. Thanks, George.”
George evaporated. Mike turned to discover Stor and
Tealae staring at him with wide, questioning eyes.
He shrugged, but inside he was smiling. Leave it to
George to make an entrance . . . again. “That was Resolve’s AI,” he
informed them.
When they remained speechless, he added, “It’s not
generally known, but George is a Knight of the Realm, knighted by the Queen
herself.”
Tealae’s eyes narrowed, uncertain, but Stor, after a
moment’s reflection, smiled. “I like him!” she said.
Mike read the uncertainty in Tealae’s eyes and
understood it. “There’s a lot of history to him and the Queen, Commander. Bear
with us for a while and maybe we’ll bring you up to date.”
She shook her head, then said, “Sire, if he’s right, it
opens up a whole lot of possibilities.”
“Tell me.”
“It means the upgraded ships are their command and
control. We’ll eventually take all of them out, which means there will be no
one left to call off the attack, if that is, indeed, even an option. Admiral
Trexler definitely needs to know.”
Mike nodded with narrowed eyes, his expression encouraging
her to continue.
“If we know which ships do not have Chessori, it means
our Empire crews can help with the fighting. We won’t have to pull our ships
back while the Terrans rest, which translates to improved efficiency.” She
thought for a moment, then added, “Sire, it’s always very bad on our fighting
ships. The Chessori are highly capable, and the fighting challenges us on all
levels. However, on the command ships we look at things from a different
perspective. For our senior commanders—Trexler, Buskin, and Godfries—everything
comes down to the math, to attrition rates. To improve the attrition rate, we
have to improve our efficiency. Not resting crews could be a start. Next, we
need to keep our capital ships engaged as continuously as possible. Right now,
they’re spending most of their time searching. Sire, we have lots and lots of
fast fighters sitting idle. We pulled all the crews from them because they’re
not effective against capital ships. We have plenty of Empire pilots who would
jump at the chance to use them for searching provided they won’t run into the scree.
When they find a target, they can activate their beacon, allowing a cruiser
or frigate to fast-ship to them. The fighter would not have to stay around for
the engagement—as soon as our capital ship has its target, our fighter can
start a new search.” She paused for a moment, then added, “We might even want
to send your jawbreakers out individually to search in the same manner.”
She considered the whole picture, then added, “We might
have other ships, cargo ships and such, that we could use for searching, as
well.” She peered hard at Mike. “As long as they won’t run into Chessori.
That’s the key.”
“Are we done here?” Mike asked the group.
When everyone nodded, he exited the net and removed his
helmet. The others followed his example.
He turned to Tealae. “I think you have enough to take
to Buskin now.”
“Sire? Me?”