Exodus: Empires at War: Book 11: Day of Infamy (Exodus: Empires at War.) (10 page)

“Prepare for transit,”
called out a voice over the ship com system, through multiple thousands of
speakers and every implant aboard.

The Admiral changed the
aspect of the holo viewer to show the shimmering mirror ahead.  It was mostly
dark, though the miniature representation of the halo and the running lights of
the gate itself reflected from it.  And the growing image of her flagship, the
Jean
de Arc. 
The even smaller images of the rest of the task force behind
reflected in that surface, seven more battle cruisers, twenty light cruisers
and forty-two destroyers, all hyper VII scout ships.

Jean de Arc
was the second ship of
that name to serve under the Admiral, both first as her fighting platform when
she was a captain, then later as her flag as a commodore or admiral.  She was a
member of the newest class of hyper VII scout capital ships, what looked to be
destined to be the largest class of battle cruiser ever built.  She measured a
little over twenty-three hundred and fifty meters in length, six hundred meters
in width, and five hundred meters in height from hyperdrive array to hyperdrive
array.  She massed eight million three hundred thousand tons, with a maximum safe
acceleration of five hundred and twenty gravities, and had a complement of over
three thousand five hundred naval personnel, including a small Marine battalion
of four hundred and fifty.  There were more powerful ships in the fleet, as
well as faster and more agile vessels, but nothing with her combination of the
two, and the Admiral would not wish to be on anything else.

The battle cruiser hit
the center of the mirror, traveling at a sedate five hundred meters a second. 
In less than five seconds she was through, into another system, the crew
fighting off the effects of the wormhole transit.  The clock on the ship said
four point seven seconds, but to the crew it had seemed like hours suspended in
some kind of strange limbo where they were everywhere and nowhere at the same
time.  Mei sat in her chair getting her wits about her after going through that
surreal experience.  Satin meowed, and she looked down on the little beast,
wondering what his experience had been like, or the experiences of the several
hundred other pet animals aboard the ship.  Did the cat experience something
similar to what humans did, or was that reserved for animals with higher
functions?   Someday, someone would find out.  But for the moment they just
didn’t know, and most didn’t care.

Now they were back home. 
Jean
had shipped from here with a wormhole, one that could be used as a
com port and could also be configured into either a cargo gate, heat sink, or a
launch system.  It could go from heat sink to cargo gate in a few minutes, but
configuring it to a launch port could take up to ten minutes on the ship, and
even longer on the other end.  Since a wormhole could not be safely transited
through another wormhole, every ship in the task group that had one had left it
behind to be deployed to another vessel.  They would pick up new ones at
Central Docks, shipped over from the
Donut. 
Every battle cruiser and
light cruiser, and one out of every four destroyers, would receive a wormhole,
since her group had been designated a priority scout formation.  Every ship
would also receive at least one of the Klassekian com techs, either as a
primary com resource or as a backup.  And while here their ships would receive
some upgrades, including a new stealth package that would make them much more
difficult to detect in normal space, as well as a new outer skin of ablative
armor and structural reinforcement.

Mei opened a series of
holos up around her chair, looking at the views of the double planetary system
of Jewel and New Terra, also known as the Capital Twins.  Jewel’s formal
designation was Sanctuary BIIIA, New Terra as BIIIB.  The G0 class star known
informally as Home, slightly larger than Sol, shone its golden light on the
four living worlds of the system that were part of the Sanctuary Supersystem,
most often just called that last.  Jewel and New Terra orbited around a center
of gravity that was from fifty thousand kilometers out to Jewel, and fifty-two
thousand to New Terra.   The small, terraformed moon Ariel, home to two hundred
and fifty million citizens, orbited both worlds at a distance of four hundred
and ten thousand kilometers from the center of gravity, a course that took
twenty-one point six standard days.  Its size and albedo made it four point
seven times brighter than Luna was on old Earth.

Jewel was the Jewel of
the Crown of Empire, a world slightly larger than old Earth, with a surface
gravity of one point zero five.  Like its sister world, it received point nine
six luminosity from its primary, and was a pleasant world all around.  Its
biosphere was made up of a combination of native life and transplanted Terran
forms, with the majority of the wilderness lands given over to the native.  
Its day was twenty-two point one standard hours, the same as its sister, while
the year was four hundred and twelve of those days.  As the center of Empire,
its official time ran on the twenty-four hour day and three hundred and
sixty-five day year of the standard calendar, something which at times caused
problems as seasons rotated at a different rate than the holidays of the
calendar.    With eleven point one billion sentients on the world, one point
seven-five of them non-humans, it was the most populated world in human space. 
Its night side was turned toward her on the holo, with the illuminated areas of
many of the largest cities in human space along the shorelines and rivers of
the continents.  Including Capitulum, with three point one billion citizens.

The other globe
interested her more, and was the destination she would choose for leave, if she
were to actually get any.  New Terra was a planet terraformed with Earth life,
which did not possess any large oceans.  Instead, multiple large areas
reminiscent of craters had been converted to large lakes, some well over a
thousand kilometers across, interconnected by a system of rivers.  There was a
huge sea of grass larger than the fabled steppes of Earth, and a scrub and sand
desert that took up three thousand kilometers of width from pole to pole, the
region she was most interested in seeing.  Six point eight billion citizens
called New Terra home.

And at the point between
the worlds, where gravity balanced out, was Central Docks.  Already large at
the start of the war, the complex of space stations, docks and building slips
had expanded to the point where it was almost unrecognizable to the woman who
had last seen it when taking charge of her ship a year and a half earlier.  It
had at least tripled in size, and every building slip was full of new
construction.  It looked like the entire fleet was being built here, which she
knew was an illusion, since Central Docks comprised less than eight percent of
the total military shipbuilding capacity of the Empire.

“Any word about our
slips?” asked Mei.  It would take about two weeks for the work to be done by
the highly automated facilities, but there was offloading of missiles and
antimatter to be accomplished before then, which could take several days.

“Central Docks control is
saying five days, ma’am.  They suggest starting to offload our hazardous materials
as soon as we can.”

“Which we can do in five
days with a reduced crew,” said the Admiral, opening a holo to the Captain. 
“Go ahead and send the people who have been the longest without shore leave to
their preferred destination.  Signal to the other ships to do the same.”

“What are you going to
do, ma’am?”

“I’m going to take a
quick two days on New Terra, then come back here to make sure they don’t screw
up my ships.”

“I’ll stay aboard until
you come back, ma’am,” replied the Captain.  “I’ll get them started on the
offloading.”

Mei nodded, then started
on packing an overnight bag for her side trip.  She was looking forward to
having dirt under her feet and real live atmosphere around her. 
And just
maybe I can take a short trip out to my never before seen duchy when I’m
satisfied that they’re not going to screw up the refits.

Chapter Eight

The brave man inattentive to his duty, is worth
little more to his country than the coward who deserts in the hour of danger.
Andrew Jackson

SPACE OUTSIDE OF HOME SYSTEM.  DECEMBER 28
^TH
,
1002.  D-4.

“We’re being hailed,
sir,” called out the Com Tech.  “They identify themselves as the cutter, Pee
Three Eight One.”

Must be a small ship if
they don’t even have a name,
thought Jasper as he looked at the plot. 
Laughing
Troll
had just come out of hyper I after stairstepping her way down.  She
had been looked at all the way in by hyper capable vessels to this point.  Now
she was the responsibility of the system patrol.

The plot showed a system
busy beyond belief.  He had thought the home system of the Ca’cadasan Empire
crowded with traffic.  It looked like a frontier system compared to the human
Home.  There were scores of ships outside the barrier, the closest what appeared
to be a light cruiser about a half light hour out to spinward.  There were
hundreds of what must have been merchant ships on courses in and out of the
system.  The largest were above twenty million tons from their graviton
readouts, the smallest well under a million tons.  Some of the vessels were
recognizable as warships be their emissions, and there were some that were
frankly unknowns.  And near the spinning twin planets in orbit around each
other was a cluster of signals so dense that in the distance they looked like
one huge emission profile.  The docks and shipyards of the enemy, one of their
primary targets.

“We have visual on the
cutter,” called out the Tactical Officer, and a holo came to life by the
Captain’s chair, showing a squat craft that by its emission profile was in the
fifty thousand ton range, much smaller than any real warship.  The view showed
that the craft lacked hyperdrive emitters, meaning that it was built for
insystem work only.  Jasper knew it had to be armed, probably a couple of
gigawatt lasers, a short ranged missile or four.  Possibly a small particle
beam.  Enough to damage most commercial ships, maybe take out their propulsion
systems.  He was sure his ship could take it out in a heartbeat in a slugging
match.  The cruisers and destroyers that populated the outer reaches of the
system made such a move suicide.

“They’re requesting that
we maintain our acceleration and bearing while they match,” said the Com Tech. 
“They’re reporting that they will be boarding.”

Jasper nodded and looked
back at the Ca’cadasan male who was the true mission leader.  That male had a
worried expression on his face, and the human wondered what he had expected. 
They were entering the human home system, and it had been unrealistic to assume
they would just be passed on here.

“How long till they can
match with us?” asked Jasper, taking action where the Cacada male seemed to be
paralyzed.

“Twenty-eight minutes,
sir,” responded the Tactical Officer.

“Make preparations,”
barked the Cacada, finally coming to his senses.  “Now.”

The crew got to work,
jumping up from their stations and running to the activation points across the
ship.  The weapon’s mounts within the holds, set to slide into place in firing
ports when needed, now detached and moved into the wormhole, opened in a
smaller gate configuration.  In less than ten minutes all of the weapons were
thousands of light years away in the Caca base system the wormhole led to. 
Across the ship false bulkheads slid into place, hiding compartments and equipment
that they really didn’t want the humans to know about.  The larger than normal
grabber units were already hidden, much of their mass slid into compartments. 
The same with the electromagnetic field projectors.  On the bridge complete
stations swiveled into the wall, replaced by ratty looking jury rigged controls
of the type found on many tramps.

“We’re ready, my Lord,”
the Captain.

“Play your roles well, or
this mission will be over before it truly begins,” growled the male, stepping
back into a compartment where his compatriots already waited, letting the false
bulkhead slide into place and cover their hiding place.

Some minutes later the
cutter pulled alongside, dwarfed by the freighter, like a small dog worrying an
elephant.  Without another warning they launched a shuttle, the even smaller
craft closing and coming to a stop outside of one of the freighter’s airlocks. 
It mated with the larger ship through a boarding tunnel, and soon armored
customs agents were coming aboard.

“Do you have a copy of
your manifest, Captain?” asked the young woman leading the four agent party.

“Of course, young lady,”
said Jasper, handing her a chip that she plugged into her hand comp.

She spent a few moments
looking over the manifest, then looked up at the Captain with a frown on her
face.  “Running empty?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We had some hard luck at
our last port of call,” answerer Jasper.  “Nobody on that damned poor little
world had anything to sell.”

“And you came to the
Capital system because?”

“There was sure to be a
useful cargo to be had here, ma’am.  After all, if we can’t find something in
the Home system that they want out on the frontier, I might as well retire.”

“Makes sense,” said the
Customs Officer.  “Let me take a short look around, and I see no reason to not
send you on your way.”

She flashed a disarming
smile at the Captain, and Jasper wondered if she was trying to take him off
guard.  They didn’t have the kind of sensor equipment with them they would need
for a deep scan of the ship, which didn’t mean they wouldn’t find anything with
what they had.  And if they did the game was up.  They could easily overpower
this team, but they would have to leave the ship and go back to their own
eventually.  They couldn’t just be coerced to send a message to their ship that
all was well.  The ship would know something was up, and in less than an hour
warships would be within beam firing range.

The agents split up into
two teams, one going with the Captain, the other with Mary, his Exec and mate. 
They spent about a half an hour poking into nooks and crannies, then moved back
to the airlock.

“Good luck on getting a
cargo, Captain,” said the Officer.  “Maybe we’ll see you on the way out.”

I seriously doubt it,
thought Jasper.  “Could
be.  Have a great day.”

Jasper was still sweating
as the shuttle left his ship and returned to the cutter.  There was always the
possibility that they had noted something and were just smart enough to get
themselves to safety before signaling help.

He didn’t allow himself
to feel safe until an hour after the cutter had moved off and nothing else
moved toward him in that time.

“I think we are safe, my
Lord,” he told the Cacada male as the bulkhead rose and the huge aliens stepped
back onto the bridge, which was again configured as a high tech warship control
center.  “I suggest we keep the weapons on the other side of the wormhole for
now.”

“I agree,” said the
smiling male, looking at the plot.  “We have made it through the final
obstacle.  The humans will now pay for their arrogance in challenging their
betters.”

Jasper looked at the
being for a moment, then looked away before the Cacada could read his
emotions.  He had to wonder if the Ca’cadasans actually were the superior
species.  He looked back at the plot, which showed the thriving system of the
humans, and thought of the target the other ship was trying to strike,
something he didn’t think the Ca’cadasans were capable of building.

He drove the thoughts
from his mind before he did something to give himself away.  He still had a mission
to complete, one that would benefit his own small branch of humanity.  But it
would mean disaster for the species as a whole. 
Crap
, he thought, no
matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get the treasonous thoughts out of his
mind.  He took another look arund the bridge wondering who else might be having
these thoughts, if anyone.  And what they could do about it if the majority
were against them.

*     *     *

CRAKISTA HOME WORLD, DECEMBER 29
^TH
,
1002.  D-3.

“Welcome to our
homeworld, your Majesty,” said the reptilian being on the holo.

“Thank you, Madame
Commissioner,” replied Sean, using the only human term that even came near to
the actual meaning, depending on the translation program to make the proper
interpretation.

The main viewer, still
visible beyond the holo, showed the surface of the planet below.  It was an
arid world, the place where the Crakista, not really reptiles, had evolved.  It
was a harsh climate as a whole, though areas of luxurious green shone in large
patches, the fruits of a technological civilization.  That much of the world
was still desert was due to the indigenous sentients wishing to preserve as
much of the natural environment as possible, and the ability to sustain a large
population without the need for using up the entire surface.

“The others have already
arrived, your Majesty,” said the being with a facial expression that most
closely imitated a smile in her people, if one could ignore the longish snout
and sharp teeth.  The Crakista were omnivores, much like humans, but they sure
looked like obligate carnivores.

Sean looked around at the
other holos that showed the ships of the other leaders.  The Elysium battleship
looked like something designed by the elves of legend, though he knew it to be
a tough and efficient warship.  The New Terran Republic ship appeared to be a
variation of his own Empire’s vessels, which for all intents and purposes it
was.  The Klashak and Margravi ships also closely resembled Imperial ships,
which made sense since they obtained most of their military tech from the
humans.  The Crakista ships, of which there were scores in orbit, were nothing
like any of the other vessels.  With even more graceful lines than the Elysium
ship, the Crakista warship was of a size with the human vessels, but with a
shimmering surface that showed a number of intricate designs.  Of course those
would disappear when the ship went into combat, but the showing of them was one
sign that the Crakista were not contemplating action at the moment.

“I thought I was on
time,” said Sean, wondering if he might have insulted his hosts by being
unintentionally late.

“You are perfectly on
time, Emperor Sean.  The others arrived early, though we still do not see the
utility of this.”

Always logical
, thought the Emperor
with a smile.  The Crakista did not lack emotions.  In fact, they had more
empathy and kindness than most humans, and when angered they could go into a
killing rage that would frighten the bravest enemy.  But they had learned ages
ago how to sublimate their emotions when making important decisions.  They used
logic, and only logic, when making life or death decisions.  Which didn’t mean
they didn’t feel the pain of their decision, and didn’t regret them sometimes. 
They just never let them influence what needed to be done.

“Your shuttle is clear
for entry into our atmosphere,” continued the Crakista council leader.  “We
will be expecting you shortly.”

The shuttle waited in the
mid-port hangar.  An assault shuttle, used for delivering Marines on surface
attacks, they were the most heavily protected small craft in the imperial
inventory.  Secret Service guards waited.  Sean had ordered that his armored
Marines were not to accompany him, much to the protest of his security.  But he
didn’t think a lack of thirty heavily armed Marines would affect his security
much.  Either the Crakista acted in good faith and protected him, or nothing
mattered.  If they decided they wanted to kill him, his battleship wouldn’t be
enough to save him here in their space.

On the flight down he
looked over the surface of the planet on the viewer.  There were scattered
cities, several in the multi-million range, though nothing near as large as
those on Jewel.  The capital came up over the horizon, no larger than many of
the other cities.  He zoomed in on the urban area, marveling at the many tall
buildings that looked like gossamer threads reaching four or five kilometers
into the sky.  All were brilliantly colored, though the effect was anything but
garish.

As Sean walked from the
shuttle onto the landing field he was struck by the dry heat, before his
attention was totally captured by the multitude of small beings that stood on
the tarmac in organized ranks, wearing the uniforms of the Crakista military. 
Several beings stood at the bottom of the stairs that had been rolled up to the
side of the shuttle, these in sheer and colorful clothing.  There were three
dominant colors of skin on the aliens, brown, yellow and red, the three races
of the dominant species of this Empire.  The beings at the base of the stairs
exhibited all of these colors, and Sean remembered that the Crakista were a
very egalitarian people.  Not all sentients were, just as humankind hadn’t been
at times in its history.

A band started playing as
the Emperor moved down the stairs.  The instruments sounded like water tinkling
over rocks, counterpointed with braying.  He was sure it was a stirring
rendition of something that moved the Crakista, but doubted it would be much in
demand in the Empire.  The military personnel all brought a right fist into the
air, then thumped them on their chests, their version of the formal salute. 
They held their hands in place until an officer shouted a command to drop them
to their sides.