Exodus: Empires at War: Book 7: Counter Strike (12 page)

“You check out, sir,” said the Corporal,
looking at the screen on the probe.  “Please key in a code word on this pad,”
said the Marine, offering another device to the Commander.

Collier thought for a moment, then keyed in a
word he thought would be easy for him to remember, and difficult for anyone
else to guess.  The thick door opened, and the Commander walked into his new
domain.

“Chief Engineer on deck,” yelled out Ensign
Takeo after they walked through the entry corridor and into the outer control
room.

“At ease,” said Collier, gratified to see that
everyone had jumped to attention quickly, but wanting to end the silliness as
soon as possible.  “We will have a department meeting in fifteen minutes,” he
told the assembled crew.  “I want to get to meet all of you people, if that
won’t be a problem.”

There was some stifled laughter at that
pronouncement, then a question.  “Do you want us to bring the off duty shifts
here?” asked the Senior Chief on duty.

“I think we can let them get their rest,” said
Collier, anxious to see what would be his baby.

The next corridor was only twenty meters long,
but ten of those meters were through the thick armor that was the last
protection for the matter antimatter reactors, both from within and without. 
And, past another meter thick door, was the engineering control room.

Collier walked over to the master control
panel, looking at the seat that would be his station most of his time aboard.  He
ran a hand over the board, being careful to not push any of the lit panels.  He
pushed one that he recognized, and was delighted to see the power meters to the
twin reactors come up as a holographic projection.  At the moment the graph
showed a mere hundred megawatts being generated, enough for a ship sitting at
station.  The gradations on the graph went up to a hundred pentawatts, a
marvelous number, almost unlimited power that would be under his control.  Or
at least under his control depending on the orders of the Captain.

It looks like an enormous amount of energy
, thought the Engineer,
pulling up a holographic schematic of the ship that showed the power couplings
heading off to all the major systems.  The laser rings, particle beam
accelerators, electromagnetic field projectors, the grabbers, all energy hogs
which would need to be fed during an action.  And, of course, the hyperdrive
projectors, the biggest energy hog of them all, and what made the massive ship
the speed demon that she was.

Dismissing one holo, the Engineer called up
another, a view of the twin reactors sitting in their cradles, each over three
hundred meters tall by two hundred wide.  They both had twenty meter thick
shells, wrapped in a tight weave of superconducting cables that siphoned off
the excess heat.  Collier switched the view to the inside of the dormant
reactor. 
Yep
, he thought. 
They’re pretty much all the same. 
The
inside was a mass of magnetic field projectors, heat exchangers, and
electrothermodynamic converters. 

And I need to get up to snuff on everything in
here
,
he thought, pulling up more schematics. 
The Captain may wonder if I’m able
to handle the job, and it’s up to me to prove her wrong.

 

 

 

Chapter
Eight

 

We
make war that we may live in peace.   Aristotle

 

CONUNDRUM SPACE. 
NOVEMBER 30
TH
, 1001.

 

Commodore the Duchess Mei Lei called off her
attacks while still a day away from the Conundrum System.  At first the attacks
had resulted in a more than favorable exchange between her forces and those of
the enemy, as the disorganized Cacas basically fled the Congreeve system.  Then
the enemy had become more organized, and she had started losing almost the same
tonnage as the foe.  The last couple of days, the exchange had started favoring
an enemy who had organized and congregated, and had a battle plan of their own
to deal with the hit and run hyper VII forces.

I just can’t send people to their deaths for no
good reason
,
thought the Commodore, looking at the tactical plot that showed the enemy force
closing on the hyper VII limit of the Conundrum system.  She had no intention
of following them into that system.  She had a good idea that such would result
in the destruction of her force. 
No
, she thought, looking at the forces
she still had under her command. 
The best thing I can do now is form a ring
around this system, a light year or two out in normal space, and use my
wormhole equipped ships to keep tabs on their comings and goings.

She knew the Empire still had stealth/attack
ships in the system, keeping watch on anything that came and went there.  But
once the enemy ships were more than a couple of light months away from the
hyper barrier, the spy ships couldn’t track them. 
Maybe some of the ships
should be picketed out two light years, and some more at five
, she thought. 
That way they would be able to keep tabs of any movements that went around the
system as well.

“Send those orders through the wormhole com,”
she told her Flag Com Officer once she had finished putting them into the
record.  “I’ll be in my cabin if any coms come through that I need to respond
to.”

The Com Officer acknowledged, then went to work
on her board, while the Commodore walked out of the flag bridge.  It was a
short walk to her cabin, only twenty meters of hallway.  The Marine guards
saluted her as she approached the door.  She still thought it ridiculous to
have Marines guarding her quarters, but regulations called for such, and, after
the incident on the
Donut
, orders had come down that regulations were to
be obeyed to the letter as far as security was concerned.

Satin waited for her, sitting up within a meter
of the door, as if he had known she was coming.  “My good boy,” said Mei,
leaning over and petting the cat, eliciting a deep purr.  “Miss me.”

The cat meowed, a sweet sound to the ears of
the woman.  Mei smiled at the beast that had shared so much of her shipboard
life, then walked into her kitchen to grab a snack.  The cat ate first, of
course, fresh gourmet fish that she had stored in her cabinets.  Like most good
pet owners the care of her animal came before her own hunger.  The cat attacked
the fish while she made herself a sandwich.

I have a steward for this
, she thought as she
put roast beef, turkey and Swiss cheese on the multigrain bread, then spread
some hot mustard on it.  But she liked taking care of small details like this
herself.  It calmed her, and after the stress of over a week of action, she
needed the calming.

Sitting on her couch with her sandwich and a
cup of tea before her, she turned to the holo to see what the news feeds were
saying about the war.  Not that she expected any more accuracy than was usual,
but she wanted to get a handle on the opinions of the crowd.  The latest report
came up, the talking heads discussing the battle of Congreeve, and what it
would mean to the Empire.

And as usual, they are making guesses that have
no basis I reality.  But at least they are giving Sean the credit he deserves.

Satin jumped up on the couch beside her,
rubbing against her leg as he eyed the sandwich.  “No you don’t, you little
shit,” said Mei, grabbing the sandwich from its plate before the feline could
get any ideas.  She took a bite, savoring the mix of flavors, which to her
commoner palate was as tasty as any of the meals her cook made for her.

“I have an incoming com for you, ma’am,” came a
call over her link.  “It’s Admiral Mgonda.”

Christ.  You would think they would give me a
moment to eat.
 
“Put him through,” she said, placing the remains of her sandwich on the table. 
The cat started heading for it, and she put a hand out to shoo him away.

“I hope I’m not interrupting on your special
moment,” said Grand Fleet Admiral Duke Taelis Mgonda with a smile.

“Your Grace,” stuttered Mei.  “Admiral.  I was
just taking a break to get some food.”

“And getting a little down time,” said the
smiling man.  “Quite alright, Admiral.  After all, your force has been
continually engaged for almost a week after the battle ended for the rest of
us.  I think all of your crews could do with a break.  Unfortunately, we still
have need of you and your ships to be our front line.”

“Yes, sir.  And we will do our best to keep
tabs on the enemy for you.  Can I expect any relief?”

“No, Admiral.  You cannot.  You will remain on
picket until such time as the offensive commences.  I’m sorry, but there it
is.”

Admiral
, thought Mei, her eyes widening as what the
other man had called her finally penetrated her consciousness.  “You called me
Admiral?”

“You, Duchess, are from this moment forward
promoted to the rank of rear admiral,” said the man who wore six stars on his
collar.  “Based on your performance in the last operation, and the needs of the
Empire for someone of higher rank to command the scout force.”

“And Admiral Montgomery?”

“She is being bumped up to full Admiral,” said
the Duke, referring to the four star rank.  “We’re moving her to command of a
battle group and turning her loose behind enemy lines.  So battle fleet needs a
new scout force commander, and you are it.”

“I thought that was a three star rank,” said
Mei, frowning, not because she wanted an additional promotion, but because that
was normally the way things were.

“Soon enough, Admiral.  We have to get you
through some temporal hoops before you can get that rank.  But I see it in your
future.”

“Sir.  I did not mean to ask…”

“I know you didn’t.  But the fact is, you are
an exceptional leader, and one we can’t afford to waste commanding a small
scouting force.  But for now it will have to be two stars, though you will
command the authority of a vice admiral.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” said Mei, bowing her
head.  “I will try to live up to your expectations.”

“That is not all I am calling you about,” said
the Admiral, looking out of the holo at the cat that had jumped back on the
couch.  “That’s just like the one the Emperor has.”

“I know, sir,” said Mei, her smile growing.  “I
gave his Majesty his own as a gift, since he seemed to like mine so much.”

“That is the other thing, Admiral,” said
Mgonda.  “The Emperor will be announcing his wedding to Duchess Coventry as
soon as he gets back to the capital.  The wedding will occur a week after his
arrival, and he has requested your presence.”

“I don’t see how I could, Admiral.  My
command….”

“Can probably do without you for a day or two. 
Which is all the time it will take for you to come in by gate, attend the
wedding, and take a portal back to your command.  Not like the old days,
Admiral, when you would have been away for two or three weeks.  So pick the
commodore you want in charge while you’re gone, and make your preparations to
come to Jewel.  That’s an order from on high, and not one I want to try to
disobey.”

“Yes, sir,” said Mei, laughing.

“Keep up the good work, Admiral.  And someday
you might be in my position.  Or even CNO.  Mgonda out.”

The holo went blank, and Mei shooed the cat
away from her sandwich.  Not that she felt very hungry after hearing all of the
news Mgonda had given her.  But she had to fuel her body, so she took another
bite of sandwich.

Sean and the Doctor
, she thought as she
ate. 
They were already engaged, but we all thought the actual marriage
would be at least another year in the future.  I guess the idea of an heir has
come up, and it would be a good idea for Sean to get one into the world, if he
plans to keep leading from the front.

“I would like to talk with Commodore Lacy,” she
told her com officer over the link. 
And won’t he be surprised by the bomb
I’m about to drop on him.

*    
*      *

Commodore Bryce Suttler sat in his captain’s
chair and watched as the enemy force translated into normal space.  In the
past, such an event would be the signal for his six stealth/attack ships to get
ready to engage.  At this point that would be suicide.  There were over a
thousand ships coming, according to the reports of the Battle Fleet Scout
Force.  The survivors of the Battle of Congreeve.  They were mad as hornets,
and looking for something to smash.  Since Suttler did not have orders to
attack them, he decided that discretion called for him to sit and watch, and
send his observations back to headquarters.

This might be my last time commanding one of
these ships
,
he thought, wishing he did have a target he could stalk and kill.  News of his
permanent promotion to Commodore had come through the day before, and he hadn’t
been given the option to refuse. 
And just how do you refuse a promotion
that came down from the hand of the Emperor himself?
he thought, realizing
that there really was no way to do so.  But he wanted to stay in the ships, and
there was no place for a commodore aboard one of the small vessels that
normally operated singly, or at most in teams of two.

They promised me I could stay in command of
Seastag
,
he
thought, looking at the plot that showed the enemy ships congregating where one
of their stations used to be, a station his ships had destroyed. 
But I know
how these things work.  Contingencies of war, needs of the Fleet.  I could find
myself sitting a desk for the rest of the war.  And it is totally beyond my
control.

“Another group is translating in,” called out
Suttler’s Tactical Officer, Lieutenant SG Walter Ngovic.  “This one looks to be
mostly those big battleships of theirs.”

Suttler grunted, and looked over at his Com
Officer to see that worthy sending the information up the line.  The first two
enemy forces had been made up of mostly four million ton supercruisers, with a
scattering of their scout ships.  He had expected more scouts, and had informed
command of his thoughts.  They had told him that the enemy scout ships had
taken inordinate casualties in the battle.

“How many do we have, Ngovic?” he asked his officer.

“Looks like almost a hundred in this group. 
Some of them are sending out abnormal hyperdrive resonances, probably battle
damage, so I’m having a hard time singling all of them out.”

“That’s OK, Tactical,” said Bryce, nodding. 
“We’ll get a visual count on them soon.  Any look like they’re coming into our
backyard?”

“No, sir,” said Ngovic, shaking his head.  “I’m
pretty sure they don’t know we’re here.  They all seem to be vectoring toward
that one gathering point.”

And if I were them, and came back to a system
that didn’t have the assets still in place that I had left there, I would be
fanning out on a search pattern as soon as I could get organized.
  But at the moment
they looked to be safe, sitting half a light hour away from the gathering
point.

An hour later everything changed.  “I was
afraid of this,” said Ngovic, pointing to the tactical plot that showed
hundreds of enemy ships starting to fan out in teams, their sensors on full
power as they tried to ferret out the invisible vessels they had to know were
in the system.

“Move us further out,” ordered Suttler, leaning
forward in his chair.  “Slowly.  Send orders to the other ships to do the
same.”

Besides
Seastag
he only had two other
ships in his immediate group.  The other three were five light hours away,
across the system, but in instantaneous com link through the wormholes.

“Some of the enemy ships are moving out from
the gathering point,” said Ngovic.  “We have translations back into hyper.”

And that means they will be moving around the
outer fringes of the system and translating back, so they can try and catch us
.  Suddenly Suttler was
not so sure that his dispositions had been wise.  That maybe they would have
been better served to have sat another five light hours out, or even further.

*   
 *     *

Captain the Duke Maurice von Rittersdorf didn’t
really like the placement of his command in the screen around the Conundrum
System.  Not that they were close in, because compared to many of the scout
force ships
James Komorov
was actually pretty far out, five light years
from the star system.  No, it was the orientation of his ship, and the other
four destroyers that formed his part of the picket.  They were on a direct path
from the border region the Cacas were known to come through, all the way in to
Conundrum.  As such, they were likely to see a lot of traffic coming up the
pike.  That wasn’t the problem, as it showed that the powers that be trusted
him and his command.

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