Doom Star: Book 03 - Battle Pod (32 page)

August 8

From Training Master,
Julius Caesar:

Please allow me to say, Grand Admiral, that this is a precise decision. It is the perfect use of gravely flawed creatures. I have already reevaluated my training tactics. As terror troops, especially against poorly armed premen, the Neutraloids will excel. I can almost pity the Martians.

August 9

Top Secret
Memorandum: The Grand Admiral’s Strategic Assessment for the Mars Campaign:

The critical battle for the Inner Planets is about to take place. I refer to the finding, fixing and the annihilating of the Social Unity Space Fleet. As long as Social Unity possesses a credible Battlefleet, we must garrison each planet with strong space forces. That weakens us at the critical points of military conflict.

In order to put overwhelming strength at the critical point, I deemed it necessary to coax Social Unity to fix its space forces at one locale. Then I ensured their hardened resolve to defend their conquest. The premen will need this resolve as they see the
Julius Caesar,
Hannibal
Barca
and the
Napoleon Bonaparte
majestically head for Mars, the place of their recent conquest.

Some have questioned this overwhelming display of force, the use of
three
Doom Stars to annihilate the premen Battlefleet.

Firstly, let me add that more than three Doom Stars head to Mars to inflict this punishing defeat. Concerning that, the individual admirals will soon learn the extended details.

Secondly, too often in wars past, commanders have tried to maintain strength in all areas of conflict in order to hold onto all territorial gains. That is a strategic error of the first order. One of the most fundamental
rules
of war is that battles entail risk. A corresponding maxim is that one can never be too strong at the point of decision. The Mars Campaign will be our point of decision. Therefore, we cannot be too strong in our head-to-head fleet battle.

Thirdly, this gathering of Highborn strength into one point means a lessening of Highborn strength in other important areas. I have ordered the Doom Star from Venus and the last Doom Star remaining at the Sun-Works Factory to immediately head for the Earth System. The space platforms around Venus will continue to harass the enemy. The defenses of the Sun Works are in good repair, especially in lieu of the fact that the SU Battlefleet is at Mars. The critical junctions at this point are firstly to maintain control of the Earth System, secondly the Sun-Works Factory and lastly Venus. To gain massive strength for Mars, we are accepting a possibly dangerous lowering of strength at Venus first and then the Sun-Works Factory second. That is a risk. But it is a risk we must accept in order to gain the crushing victory needed at the point of maximum gain.

Fourthly, as superior as Highborn innately are to the inferior premen, I urge none to think this victory is preordained. Nothing in this universe is free. Few things die willingly. We are two million supermen among thirty-eight billion, seething, hating and fearing subhumans. They possess courage, stamina and cunning. They will fight. They will have obtained a secret weapon and they will have devised clever tactical dispositions.

Fifthly and lastly, we are the Highborn. We are born to conquer and born to rule. It is our burden to bring order and rationality to the Solar System. This is the critical fight for that rule. Once the Inner Planets are ours, we shall expand throughout the Solar System and in time seed the stars. This test of our valor, our resolve, guile and brilliance will go down as the most glorious feat of arms in the annals of military history.

Because of that, I have decided to lead the fight in person. The Second Battle of Far-Mars orbit saw my elevation to supreme command among the Highborn. Social Unity and the Martian Planetary Union have fought the Third Battle of Mars Orbit. In a few weeks time, will begin the last battle for Mars Orbit. I expect nothing but the best from all of you, which means the best that anyone can give in this chaotic Solar System.

August 10

From the Praetor
:

I have two questions, Grand Admiral. When will you order the breakout? We sicken and die at this miserable post beside the Sun. I have read your memorandum and seen the tactical displays you broadcast. Three Doom Stars accelerate at a leisurely pace for Mars. We groan here. We suffer intensely while the rest of you float in lazy serenity. That is intolerable.

My second question is this: do you deliberately conceal the use of the
Thutmosis III
? Do you deliberately attempt to conceal our glory? We die here in order to achieve massive victory for the Highborn. It is only right that you broadcast our role. This is insufferable, Grand Admiral. If I did not know you better, I would consider this treachery against a possible rival for high command.

August 10

From the Grand Admiral
:

My dear Praetor, your paranoid ranting shows me that you and your gallant crew are under fierce stress. A lesser Highborn could not have endured what you have. I endure these slurs against my character out of sympathy for your plight and for your willingness to have put yourself in harm’s way for the good of our united greatness.

I have kept your role secret out of dire need. Social Unity spies are clever and numerous. Premen nature dictates their slyness. Spies are sly. Therefore, they excel at the nefarious game.

Rest assured that my records and diary have within a constant stream of wonderment regarding your suffering.

Let me add this, and I hope its importance sinks in, Praetor. A surprise always has greater effect when it is sprung suddenly and completely. That few know about your hazardous duty and the deadliness of the
Thutmosis III
will only help them remember your deeds when they suddenly appear. It will galvanize the Highborn. Your name will sprout from every lip. Highborn will ask questions, wanting to know more about you.

I applaud you, Praetor. Please, keep your paranoia in check a few more hours. Then I shall order the breakout. Then you will fly for Mars at terrific velocity and inflict in the next few weeks, punishing, even horrific damage to the enemy.

All Hail the Praetor!

August 11

From the Praetor
:

We sicken and die and you spout platitudes. Order us out now. End this bitter existence.

Let me also add this: I have recorded our conversations and will hold you to every golden promise.

August 11

From the Grand Admiral
:

I have glorious news, my dearest Praetor. Begin breakout procedure now and head for a flyby of Mars.

I, too, have recorded these messages and I, too, will gladly play them for all to see what noble deeds you have preformed. From every Highborn everywhere, I wish you the greatest luck. Kill the enemy, Praetor, and win the laurels you so richly deserve.

Several weeks after the victory of the SU verses the Rebels in near-Mars orbit, Commodore Blackstone yearned to rub his tired eyes. He floated at the end of a docking tube. He wore a vacc-suit as a precaution, with a bubble helmet. He had just completed a whirlwind tour of Deimos, Phobos and each of the major warships of the Battlefleet. A bit of good luck had occurred as another straggling battleship had joined them a week ago, replacing the lost
Ho Chi Minh
. Unfortunately, the straggling ship was in a terrible state of repair.

He now had eleven battlewagons of the
Zhukov
-class, big ships with immense firepower and the heaviest particle-shields of any known spacecraft, including Doom Stars. Until the construction of the first Doom Star, the
Zhukov
-class battlewagon had been the largest and deadliest spacecraft in the Solar System. Once, there had been many more than a mere eleven of them. The First Battle of Deep Mars Orbit in 2337 against the Mars Planetary Union and the Jupiter Confederation had seen the death of too many SU battleships. Twelve years later at the beginning of what had originally been known as the
Highborn Rebellion
had seen the worst slaughter of battleships. Then the Doom Stars had turned on fellow fleet vessels, destroying them before fleet personnel knew they were in a war to the death.

Blackstone shook his head. Past glories were best forgotten. Eleven
Zhukov
-class battleships was still a powerful concentration of fleet units. They were the heart of his Battlefleet.
En masse
and while their particle-shields held, they could dare match Doom Stars in a slugfest. To complement the battlewagons, he had nine missile-ships. Each of them was equally as large as a battleship. But missile-ships by nature were raiding vessels, not stand-up spacecraft to smash through the guts of an enemy fleet. Heavy lasers beamed at the speed of light, approximately 300,000 kilometers per second. Missiles and drones traveled at a tiny fraction of that speed. Thus, a missile-ship usually launched drones and missiles and then hurried elsewhere, monitoring the battle from a safe distance.

The Highborn had been particularly adept at luring the remaining SU missile-ships into traps and obliterating them. It was the reason the Battlefleet only had nine.

The ECM vessels, the troop transports, the orbital launch ships, the minelayers, the stealth ships and the recon vessels and probes added another twenty-eight spacecraft to the Battlefleet. Hawthorne’s Earth convoy added another forty-nine. Each of the transports became decoy vessels as the supplies in their cargo-holds poured into the warships and onto the two moons.

Within his bubble helmet, Commodore Blackstone grinned tightly. Phobos and Deimos were going to be the first grim surprise for the Highborn. General Fromm’s people worked overtime, massing the moons with point-defense emplacements, merculite missiles and repairing every heavy-laser cannon. There were also extra laser cannons being added, a new one every three days.

These past weeks since the victory over Martian space defenses, General Fromm’s people had swarmed the moons. Social Unity lacked Doom Stars. Yet as big as a Doom Star was, even two tiny moons like Phobos and Deimos dwarfed them. Fromm’s sweating and harried technicians slept three hours a cycle. They were hyped with stimulant so they worked like automatons. Unfortunately, the moons had precise and known orbits, which weakened their combat uses. But they had much greater mass then the Doom Stars and could theoretically absorb much more punishment. If given enough time, they would become bristling fortresses.

From his original plan, Supreme Commander Hawthorne’s meant to use the moons to break the Doom Stars. Blackstone would cluster the Battlefleet around the fortress moons. If the Doom Stars went after the Battlefleet first, the moons would pound the enemy craft. If the Doom Stars tried to take out the moons first, the Battlefleet would maneuver and overwhelm each Doom Star one at a time.

Within his bubble helmet, Commodore Blackstone’s grin slipped. The problem with the grand plan was it required time to set up.

The Highborn likely had communication with the Mars Rebels. The past few weeks had surely proven that. As the Battlefleet had mopped up Martian space resistance, it was now known that the gargantuan warships had circled the Earth many times, building up velocity. Even as the drop-troops and cyborgs had captured Olympus Mons, three Doom Stars had broken out of Earth’s orbit and accelerated toward the Red Planet.

Radar and teleoptic scopes had discovered that the Doom Stars no longer accelerated, but used their velocity to travel the 100-million kilometers between Mars and Earth that presently separated the two. The enemy had traveled three weeks and at present speeds could pass Mars in a flyby in four more weeks. It was more than possible, however, that the Highborn planned to decelerate hard to match orbits with Mars. In that case, the Highborn million-kilometer ranged lasers would need another four and a half weeks before they could reach the SU space defenses.

Blackstone thought carefully. If the Highborn planned a flyby, wouldn’t the Doom Stars continue to accelerate to reach here even faster? A flyby seemed unlikely, however, for the simple reason that it would take the Highborn much too long to decelerate later and head back for Mars or for Earth. If the Doom Stars sped past the Red Planet in a flyby, it might behoove Social Unity to stab with every spaceship it had for Earth and drive off whatever Doom Star defended the mother planet.

Blackstone’s gloved fingers twitched with his impatience for the hatch to pressurize.

Would the Highborn begin to decelerate soon? Would it be four weeks or four and a half weeks until the battle started? This battle would likely decide the fate of the Solar System. Would it be a slugfest as Supreme Commander Hawthorne and Toll Seven envisioned, or would the Highborn attempt something completely different that would confound everyone?

Blackstone chewed the inside of his cheek. Three Doom Stars filled with Highborn—even with two bristling moons and nearly four-fifths of the remaining SU war-fleet at his disposal, and with a planetary proton beam—

They had to get the proton beam online! That beam was amazingly deadly. The brutal and astonishingly quick death of the
Ho Chi Minh
had proved the planetary proton-beam’s worth.

Eleven battlewagons, two fortress moons, a massive support fleet and sundry other vessels could still lose to three Doom Stars. That’s what made the proton beam so important. Yet they could only use it at near orbit. Its range was so pathetically short in space combat terms. That’s why they would need Toll Seven’s battle pods and stealth packs. Their planned use was a revolutionary tactic, and the cyborgs were perhaps the only troops able to pull it off.