A Faded Star (32 page)

 Simmons tapped at her tablet for a moment to activate
the screen across from Stokes' desk. The screen showed a group of locations
along the spiral arm where Lashmere was located. “Sir, the highlighted
locations are advanced research facilities operated by the Terran Empire.” She
tapped her tablet again, causing some of the highlighted locations to take on
additional brackets. “These locations are where advanced medical research was
being conducted to find a cure for the alliance virus. I'd like to mount an
expedition to these locations. If we keep the group small, we can make the
entire circuit in about eight months.” She paused and looked at Stokes
expectantly.

 “You'll be happy to know that I've forwarded your
proposal to the board of admirals already. We decided to table a decision until
after we know what the crabs do. Without more certainty of what's coming, I
can't endorse your proposal.”

 “Two research ships and two destroyers can't possibly
make a difference against all those crab ships, sir,” Simmons responded. Her
voice took on a slightly plaintive note. “The crabs have almost two thousand
ships. Four of ours won't make a difference at all.”

 “Actually, our analysis indicates you may be wrong,
Miss Simmons,” Stokes said. “Two of our destroyers are roughly the equivalent
to eight to ten of their escorts. This is an appreciable loss of offensive and
defensive force for us. The research ships are equivalent to another four or
five escorts in a broad engagement. Our simulations indicate the crabs will
likely bring everything they have to our doorstep once the alliance turns them
this way. Once the crab threat is dealt with, I will happily endorse your pan
to recover any information about the virus.”

 “What if the alliance sets the virus on us in response
to us beating the crabs, sir? Can we afford to not have information about it?”

 “I appreciate your argument, Miss Simmons, but the
current decision is final. Send me a copy of your complete proposal, and I'll
add it to what I've already put before the board of admirals.”

 Simmons fought to contain her disappointment at
Stokes' decision. “I will, sir. Thank you again for your time.”

 “My pleasure, Miss Simmons. I appreciate your passion
for this subject, and I agree that the virus could well represent a serious
threat. I'm not discounting it. We just can't afford to weaken our forces by
even the tiniest sliver right now.”

 “I understand, sir. Thank you, again.” Simmons stood
and left the admiral's office.

 Simmons returned to her ship, recently named the Loki.
“I have to come up with another way, obviously,” she muttered to herself. She'd
hoped Stokes would champion her proposal to the rest of the admirals. Instead,
he'd obstructed it and dismissed her serious concerns out of hand. While the
crabs were the obvious and overt threat, they were a pale shadow compared to
the weapon designed to destroy humanity as a whole.

 It didn't matter to her that the admiral outranked
her. She'd learned in the past few months to act in a way that made Stokes and
other senior officers comfortable, but it didn't change how little military
ranks meant to her. She knew her intellect vastly outstripped more than
ninety-nine percent of the humans on Lashmere. She knew far more and far better
than Stokes, or any of the other admirals could possibly know.

 The only way to accomplish her goals of getting the
medical research she wanted so badly, both for the virus research and, even
more importantly to her, the longevity research, was to take the choice from
the admirals and place it in her own hands. She would need a way of departing
the system with a ship capable of carrying out the mission and that she was capable
of operating alone. Fortunately, Loki was such a ship. The next part of her
plan hinged on convincing everyone else to leave the ship. She pondered the
situation for a long while until the framework of a solid plan began to form in
her mind.

 By the next morning, she'd worked out the details of
her plan. She took extra care to keep her ideas to herself, completing the
programming and simulations on an independent computer that had no connection
to the ship. She knew she had a workable plan and would be able to complete her
goals without further obstruction. The only variable for her now was the time
she chose to act.

 Six weeks later, the sensor net gave the admirals good
news. The crab fleet had begun moving towards Xalcek. Each day the crabs moved
towards Xalcek would take them nearly an additional day to return towards
Lashmere.

 The following morning, Stokes met up with Kri, Patho
and Erickson on the observation deck overlooking the space dock.

 Stokes greeted the other officers, having arrived a
few minutes early. “Captain Erickson, Commander Kri, and Commander Patho, I've
invited you here for a few important words. First and foremost, I'm happy to
announce that you, Mister Patho have been bumped to Captain in rank. You're
being placed in command of half the stealth corvette fleet. Your second in
command is someone you already know. Commander Fuchs will be second in overall
command with fifteen of the stealth corvettes nominally under his control, but
all thirty are within your command structure. Next up is the news that Mister
Kri has been placed in command of the assault cruiser Damocles.”

 Stokes paused while the two men digested the news. He
then said, “I believe you've both met Captain Erickson?” Both men nodded in
agreement, and Stokes continued, “Miss Erickson has been promoted to Commodore
and placed in command of the Behemoth. We've gained half the time we need to
complete our fleet and gain the ability to defend ourselves against the crabs.
In light of this fact, I wanted to gather the three of you together. You
represent three of the most experienced officers against the crabs. In light of
this, I want to fold you into my command structure from the Victorious. When
the fight comes here, I need you all to be on the same page. All three of you
have separate and complementary strengths.

 “Mister Patho, you excel at using small, fast and
lightly armed and armored units to deadly effect. Mister Kri, you have a strong
ability to find ways of bending the odds in your favor, frequently with outside
the box thinking. Miss Erickson, you've repeatedly shown you have a cool and
calm head for command level decisions. I want you to consider yourself my
second in command if and when the battle comes here. We have a planning session
scheduled first thing next week. Most of the newly appointed captains will be
there. I want to make sure you three know where you are in the overall command
structure. We're still almost three months from our first crop of accelerated
academy graduates, and they'll be as new to this as you three are to
independent command. With luck, the crabs will give us the time we need. Are
there any questions or comments?”

 Patho was grinning from ear to ear. “I can't believe
I'm getting the stealth fleet. I was reading the specs and those ships are
incredible.”

 Kri smiled broadly and said, “My own ship? That's
great. An assault cruiser, too. Oh no, what am I going to do with all those
marines, sir?” He chuckled to himself, relishing the opportunity to put his own
stamp on a crew of newly graduated officers and crew.

 “When will the Behemoth be ready, sir?” Erickson
asked.

 “Three more weeks. She's being built down at berth
five. You can see her from here, half done.” The quartet of officers looked out
the observation window and saw a massive structure pointed out of the space
dock. They were interrupted by a chime from Stokes' comm. He tapped at the
device and said, “Stokes.”

 The tinny voice that came out said, “Sir, this is
Lieutenant Jacoby at headquarters. Admiral Coffee wants you to report
immediately.”

 “Very well. Inform the admiral I'm on my way down from
space dock.”

 “Aye, sir.” The comm beeped to signal the close of the
communication channel.

 “That can't be good news,” Patho observed.

 Stokes had a worried look on his face. “I expect not.
I can only think of one thing that would cause a call like that. The crabs must
be moving towards us. Go to your commands and start planning for the crab
attack. Assume they've turned towards us in the last day and are making their
best speed here.”

 The officers went their separate ways without further
discussion. All of them carrying knots of fear in their stomachs.

 Stokes arrived at headquarters, still pondering the
implications of the call. He was hustled into a conference room, joining
Admirals Coffee, Brand, and Misato. All three had faces that were quite grim.

 “What's going on?” Stokes asked.

 “It's not as bad as it could be, but it's pretty bad.
Half the crab fleet has turned and begun heading towards us at their highest
speed. We have six weeks.”

 “What about the other half?”

 “Still on their way to Xalcek. We're not sure if the
crabs moving towards us is a response to the alliance's threat to force them to
attack us or if they've made the change based on some other factor.”

 Brand said, “Is half the crab force enough to destroy
the Xalcek system?”

 Misato said, “It's unclear. It may be enough. In fact,
if our long range sensor net is correct, it's more than enough. Despite their
claims to have some secret defense, it looks like the Xalcek system is roughly
as well defended as their forward base was. The crabs took only minimal losses
clearing that system of alliance ships.

 “My team has been running simulations and projections
almost continuously as the situation has developed. Based on the more
pessimistic assumptions about crab capabilities, there is a seventy percent
chance they can get here before we have overwhelming force against a thousand
of their ships. We'll have only about two thirds of our ships fully manned, and
the only classes of ships that will be complete are the stealth corvettes and
the destroyers. Less than half the cruisers will be complete.”

 Stokes said, “The first behemoth will be complete,”
Stokes observed. “It represents a massive offensive force the crabs can't
afford to ignore. That ship alone can defend half the system.”

 “Tough as the Behemoth design is, it's not
invulnerable. Sufficient concentration of fire can destroy it,” Misato said. He
looked around the room for a long, silent moment. “Simulations have shown that
as few as six crab battleships, properly employed, can punch through the armor
and inflict significant internal damage.”

 Brand couldn't keep the shock out of his voice when he
said, “Six? Surely the behemoth is more than a match for five times that
number.”

 Coffee chose that moment to take control of the
meeting. “Gentlemen, keep your focus. Admiral Misato is in charge of providing
worst case scenarios and then he has to find ways to prevent them happening.”
Coffee nodded at the sudden silence in the room. “Mister Brand, what's our
estimated completion as of nine weeks from today?”

 “Completed hulls or fully manned ships?”

 “Fully manned ships.”

 “We'll be at just under forty percent of our target
number. More than half that will have less than a week's training time with
their new ships.”

 “Very well,” Coffee said. “Mister Stokes can you
defend the system with thirty-nine percent of your expected order of battle?”

 “It's possible. We will have to use the planets as
funnels to bring the crab forces into concentrations. It will mean allowing
them to penetrate deeper into the system than our initial plans had called for.
We'll also have to reposition the system defenses. It looks like they'll enter
the system on an expected trajectory. With that piece of information, we can be
ready for the crabs to hit us in a place we've prepared. The automated drone
platforms and torpedo launchers have all been built and are ready to create a
kill zone covering as much as twenty percent of the plane of the ecliptic. If
the crabs come in on that vector, we'll give them a pounding they won't soon
forget.

 “I suggest we withdraw all non-combatant ships outside
the system with orders for independent operation should we be defeated here. I
would also like to suggest we prepare a conditional evacuation of some portion
of the populace. There's too much riding on our survival as a species to allow
a single, inconveniently timed attack to wipe us out. The tugs can be
retrofitted for civilian transport by the time the crab fleet shows up with no
change to our final fleet composition. We simply won't build the ships that
can't be fully crewed.”

 “How many civilians could we evacuate on the current
transport ships?” Coffee asked.

 “One moment, sir. I have those numbers,” Misato said.
After digging in his tablet for a few seconds, he said, “We can get about seven
hundred thousand out, sir. That's if we convert all of the transport ships into
maximum capacity evacuation ships. The Behemoth can carry five million, but
it's a combat ship, and I hesitate to place civilians in the line of fire that
way.”

 Coffee nodded and said, “I think we have no choice.
We'll have to institute a way of deciding who goes and who stays. Do we have
any suggestions?”

 Brand said, “People with critical skills and abilities
should be placed on a priority list. The remaining space should probably be
left to a lottery system. That should keep the inevitable civil unrest to a minimum.”

 Stokes said, “I'd suggest we give each person in our
population a score. Some kind of viability quotient must be assigned. Once we
have a system of ranking, we'll bring those aboard who meet the needs of a
potentially surviving society. A lottery sounds great, but when only one in
five people are able to come. The riots would be huge. There is no way we can
possibly control eighty percent of our society if they all decide to riot at
once. If we announce a lottery in advance, and then let everyone just wait, we
won't get one in ten of the selectees to their designated ships. I think a
quiet evacuation of previously selected individuals is the best choice.”