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

There were other aliens
out there as well, not in uniform, performing tasks around the landing field. 
The Crakista granted all of their sentients citizenship in the Empire, much
like the humans.  But they didn’t allow them in their military or top
government positions.  Their view was they had founded the organization that
protected all, and shouldn’t be expected to give up their power.

“Welcome, your Majesty,”
said one of the Crakista in heavily accented Terranglo, holding out a small
hand.

Sean was always struck by
how small and delicate the reptilians were.  They really weren’t reptiles,
after all, closer to dinosaurs, though not quite those either.  They moved with
an economic grace that few other beings could match, only the Avian Brakakak
coming close.

“Thank you,
Commissioner,” replied Sean, taking the hand gently, then bending to kiss it in
the way of his people.  “It is a true pleasure to meet you in person.”

“I hope that this summit
will be productive for all of our peoples,” she said, looking up at Sean’s
small security detail coming down the stairs.

Sean glanced back.  He
was sure that all of his agents were sighted in by snipers.  His military would
have done the same with any security in proximity to himself, just in case.  He
looked back at the five Commissioners, all now looking expectantly at him.

“Let me introduce my
fellow servants of the people,” announced the Commissioner, gesturing to each
leader in turn while saying some unpronounceable names.

“I am sure that we will
find a way to work through our differences,” said Sean, nodding to the other
leaders. 
At least I hope so.

An hour later the Emperor
was sitting in the conference room with the other leaders of the alliance.  To
his right sat President Julia Graham of the New Terran Republic.  She wore a
worried expression, and Sean was sure many of the same things were going
through her mind as his.  The Republic was dependent on the Empire to help
shore up their military.  That included wormholes, and any of that tech that
made its way to the other allies probably wouldn’t end up with her people.

To his left sat the Czar
of New Moscow, Sergie Baryshnikov.  His was the most junior member of the
alliance, due to the hit they had taken from the Cacas, turning them from a
respectable power into what amounted to a beggar state.  That monarch also
looked stressed, for good reason.  The fleets that had pulled out of the
alliance had been helping to garrison his kingdom, and now his people were more
at risk due to their absence.

On either end of the
table sat the representatives of Klashak and Margrav, both looking like they
felt out of place being in a conference with the big boys.  The Klashakian
representative was a squat being with gray skin, looking for all the world like
a rock with tendrils.  His people were as bright as any, but with limited
physical abilities that had made them easy prey for the Lasharans.  They could
still run a warship as well as anyone, but contributed very little to the
ground effort.  The Margav representative looked like a large insect, and his
seat was set on grav plates to reproduce the light gravity of his homeworld,
while he wore a breathing mask to give him the proper higher oxygen atmosphere
his people needed.

Across the table sat the
representatives of the Elysium and Crakista Empires.  Originally the conference
had been planned so that the allies could discuss the strategies they would use
to defeat the Ca’cadasans.  Now it had changed into a discussion on how the New
Terran Empire could keep the alliance together, how much they had to give the
other powers in order to convince them to remain in the fold.  Not what Sean
had been planning on.

“I think it comes down to
how much we can trust the human governments,” said Lord Grarakakak, looking pointedly
at Sean.  “We never really wanted you to build that station in the first
place.  There are so many risks, so many unknowns.  But since you have built
it, the station has proven a benefit to your Empire’s military.  So much so,
that should you happen to win this war, you will become the supreme military
power in this arm, if not the Galaxy itself.  Which leaves us with a problem.”

“Actually two of them,”
said the Crakista representative, looking over at the Brakakak and receiving a
nod to proceed.  “First off, your hording this tech makes our militaries little
more than junior partners, to be used as you wish.  We can be used to blunt
enemy attacks, at a high cost to our ships and people.”

“And we don’t use your
people in such a way,” complained Sean.  “I can guarantee that we only send
your forces into battle when they are necessary for victory, or at least
avoiding disaster.  Our own forces are still our primary resource, and we are
very cognizant of the lives of our allies.”

The two representatives of
the two smaller allies, Klashak and Margav, both gave their versions of
acknowledgement.  Both had been human allies for centuries, and had seen the
sacrifices the New Terran Empire had made in protecting them from the
Lasharans.  Both had paid the price in later wars with that Empire, and neither
had regretted standing with the humans.

“Which doesn’t answer the
second problem,” said the Crakista.  “You are already moving ahead of us in
technological leaps and bounds.  By the time the war is over, even with the
sharing of electronics and ship weapons, your wormhole tech will make you the
most powerful species since the Ancients.  And that is something we cannot
tolerate.  If you have this tech, so must we.”

“We given you some
wormholes already,” said Sean, rubbing his temples.  They were asking for more
than his Empire was willing to give.  He looked down at the table for a moment,
thinking about what they asked.  Plans, schematics, maybe even engineering aid
to build their own wormhole generators. 
But really, what can they do with
them.  They don’t have a suitable black hole to build a station like ours. 
They still might be able to adapt a smaller hole for the process, or brute
force it with large ice planet stations.  The first would take decades, maybe even
a half century or more.  The second would mean they could make their own
wormholes, but never on the scale of the human race.
  He turned back to the
Crakista leader.

“I thought you had said
you were willing to throw in with us, seeing that we were a better choice than
the Ca’cadasans.”

“And we still believe
that, but we would rather be your partners than your subjects.”  The Crakista
raised a hand before Sean could open his mouth.  “I know.  You will guarantee
that it will not happen, in your lifetime.  But you will not live forever, and
the next Emperor might have other priorities.”

All I have to do is say
yes, and they will send their ships back to the front.  But without the
permission of Parliament, I would just be telling a lie.  And if I forced the
measure through without their approval, I would end up paying for it in the
future.  But I have to make a decision.

“I…”

“Your Majesty,” came a
voice over his com.  “We’re receiving a message through the wormhole.  The
Cacas have gone on the offensive in the kingdom of New Moscow.”

Sean looked over at
President Graham, then at the Czar.  Both had looks of concentration on their
faces, receiving messages on their coms.  He could tell by the aspects of the
other leaders that they were also getting information from their own staffs.

“We’re under attack,”
said Sean, seeing the understanding in their faces.  “Will you come to our
aid?”

“Until you meet our
demands, we will not be committing our forces to your war,” said the Crakista
leader, glancing over at Grarakakak, who was giving forth a very human nod.

“Then the hell with both
of your governments and people,” cursed Sean, jumping to his feet and gesturing
to his Agents.  “We’re going.”

The Emperor stormed from
the room, passing the Crakista soldiers who hurredly got out of the way.  He
had just insulted their leader, and he wondered for a moment if they might try
to stop him from getting to his shuttle.  But they had to know that doing so
would lead to war.

“Send the ambassadorial
staff down,” he said into his com.  They had been brought along to meet with
the staffs of the other leaders, once they had hammered out some of their
talking points.  Now he had to hope that they could keep a dialogue open.  The
one thing he did know, the one thing he believed, was he had to be on the flag
deck of a ship when the battle was joined.

“How fast can I get to
the front?” he asked his Chief of Staff when he had boarded the battleship.

“We can get you to the
Augustine
in about three hours, your Majesty,” answered the Captain who was serving as
his aide this trip.  “She’s starting to move out to the hyper barrier, but we
can slow her down for the moment.”

“Then do so,” said the
Emperor, pulling up the information that they had on his implant.  So far the Cacas
had been spotted in three forces, the largest heading directly for New Moscow,
ETA five days. 
Augustine’s
force was in another system, but could be
vectored to intercept either of two of the Caca fleets, though not the main
one.  And it wasn’t vital that she get into hyper for another twelve hours, and
in fact she needed to pace her approach with her task group so that the others
could arrive at the same time.  Which would give him plenty of time to get to
her before she was at too high a velocity for the wormhole portal to handle the
difference in inertia.

“Let’s get going.  But
put me on the com to Lord Grarakakak before we transit the wormhole.”

A moment later the face
of the Brakakak noble appeared on a holo, and from the expression on his face
Sean thought he was both troubled and embarrassed.  But then he wasn’t an
expert on the facial expressions of that species of sentient.

“I wish to tell you that
I hope you can defeat the Ca’cadasans, your Majesty,” said the Brakakak before
Sean could speak.

“I hope we can too, Lord
Grarakakak.  But if we can’t, the Kingdom of the Czar will again be overrun,
and we will lose what little military power they have laboriously rebuilt.”

“I am sorry, your
Majesty.  I am not the sole ruler of my Empire, and I have to get others to
agree with me before I can get my people to commit to action.”

“You might want to work
on that agreement, High Lord.  Because I have a feeling that things are about
to get really tense out on the frontier, and if they don’t go our way, the action
will be moving closer to your Empire every day.”

Sean cut off the
transmission, then pulled up the tactical plot again, trying to memorize what
was going on while his agile mind worked through the possibilities.  Right now
it looked like his force was larger than the Cacas in total tonnage, and he had
the advantage of wormhole weapons.  Of course, he couldn’t be sure that was all
that was heading his way. 
Thank God for the wormhole weapons
, he
thought.  They had given him an advantage in several fights in the past, and he
wasn’t sure what he would do without them now.

Chapter Nine

Gentlemen, when the enemy is committed to a
mistake we must not interrupt him too soon. Horatio Nelson

H +1.

“We’re sending the final
targeting data across, now,” said the Com Tech, looking back at her Captain,
then to the Ca’cadasan Overlord who was actually running the operation.

“To the glory of the
Emperor,” stated that being in the harsh guttural language of his species.

Fools Bane
sat in curving path that
would eventually take her into a close orbit of the black hole, within three
light minutes of the event horizon, about fifty-four million kilometers out. 
They were already receiving queries about their intended course, much too close
for comfort according to those in charge of security, especially for a tramp
that didn’t carry the certification of safety such as an Imperial warship or a
major carrier would have.

We should have brought
more ships,
thought
the human Captain, looking at the selection of targets in the system.  The
station itself was the priority, and the original plan had called for them to
get within close proximity of that target before launching.  That wasn’t going
to happen.  Too many suspicions had been raised, and they would be intercepted
well before they got within any kind of range where they could put a quarkium
warhead into the structure.  Anything they launched from out here, almost a
light hour from the target, would take over two hours to get to the station,
and would be intercepted by an overwhelming defensive fire from the
Donut
. 
And they would also have to penetrate the naval forces, what there were of
them, that would position themselves between the tramp and the target.

And then there were the
four rings of gates, three complete with thirty-two of the structures, one with
only seventeen, but sure to be completed in the near future.  Not as important
as the station that made them, but targets whose destruction would cause great
harm to the war effort of the New Terran Empire.  Those gates were over a light
hour out from the station, and set in rings spaced fifteen light minutes along
from their nearest neighbor.  They were twenty-one light minutes from the
nearest of those rings, the partially completed one.

If only they would have
allowed us into close proximity of the station, we wouldn’t have had this
problem.
 
But the fact was that they did have the problem, and it wasn’t going away, so
they would just have to make do.

“Final dispositions of
attack groups coming through, my Lord,” said the Com Tech, looking at the
Ca’cadasan who actually ran the mission, before turning his attention to the
titular human captain. 

The Captain looked over
the information scrolling across the holo screen hanging in the air to his
front.  Over forty-three thousand ship attack and fighters would be coming
through the wormhole they were going to open.  That hole was going to be eight
hundred meters in diameter, large enough to deploy a complete space attack or
fighter group, fifty-six craft, through in a ten second window.  With seven
hundred and sixty-eight groups, it would take a little over two hours to deploy
the entire attack force.  He wondered if they would have that time, since the
closest Imperial ships could hit them with missiles in slightly less than two
hours.

No one said we were
coming back
,
thought the Captain.  That went for him and his crew.  That went for the tens
of thousands of pilots and gunners that would come through with the attack
waves.  If they could take out the wormhole generating station it would be
worth more than the less than a hundred thousand lives they would give.  It
would win the war.  Of that the Captain had no doubt.  And it would prove once
and for all to the Masters how valuable he and his people were to their Empire.

He looked back at the
Ca’cadasan Overlord, noting the sly expression on the beings face, as if he
knew something that the human crew didn’t.  And that worried the Captain even
more.

*     *     *

The Commander of
Laughing
Troll
looked over his tactical plot with a different perspective from that
of
Fools Bane’s
commander.  The Jewel/New Terra System was only one
hundred and five thousand kilometers in diameter, about a third of a light
second.  Even adding in the moon Ariel and it was still less than a light
second in radius.  Everything was within range, though it was more important to
take out some targets earlier in the queue than others.

“Final targeting
information has been sent through to the strike groups,” sent the Com Tech. 
“Acknowledgement of receipt coming through.  Estimated time to first
deployment, forty-nine minutes.”

Jasper looked at the
information coming through on the holo screen.  His attack would be much
smaller than the one launched on the black hole station, a mere five thousand,
six hundred odd attack ships and fighters, one hundred groups.  It would take
them seventeen minutes to complete their transit through the hole, and they
would head for their targets in the order of priority.  The docks first, then
the capital planet, and after that the two other inhabited worlds.  If they
could smash the docks and take out the government, they would have accomplished
their part of the task.  Maybe not as important as taking out the wormhole
generating station, but still, cutting the head off the snake was always
useful.

*     *     *

“Admiral on the bridge,”
shouted the first crewperson to see her.

“At ease,” replied Mei
Lei, walking onto the command and control bridge.  It seemed strange to be on
this control room of the battle cruiser.  She was used to the even larger flag
bridge, from which she exerted command and control of the entire task group,
and not just one ship.  But she had allowed the Captain and his staff to have
leave, something they didn’t get often.

“Anything to report?”
asked the Admiral, feeling foolish as she did so.  They were hanging in space
about five thousand kilometers from the Central Dock main station.  This was
one of the safest places in the entire Empire, and she would have been shocked
if something were going on.

“No, ma’am,” said the
acting Tactical Officer, a grin on his face as if he also recognized the
silliness of the question.  “Just normal traffic.  Preparing to launch another
shuttle in five minutes with a full liberty party aboard.”

Mei smiled at the thought
of more of the ship’s crew getting out and onto a real planet’s surface for a
change.  This shuttle was scheduled to go to Jewel, where the majority of her
people had gone.  “Let me know the moment anything of an import happens,” she
told the Tactical Officer, who had bridge duty this watch.  “I’ll be in my
cabin, making sure the logs are up to date.”

The ship seemed emptier
that it actually was, the corridors empty of life.  There were still eight
hundred and fifty people aboard, over a quarter of the crew, the number
mandated for minimal security even while in a friendly port.  A third of those
people had the duty watch, while the rest were either asleep or at some form of
recreation.  She returned the salute of a rating who was on the way somewhere
in a hurry.

And tomorrow we go into
dock to get a new nanoskin installed
, she thought as she approached the door to her
quarters.  That skin would make the ship much more stealthy, especially when
paired with the wormhole she would carry back at the front.  Some other structural
modifications would be made, but there would be no need to have any crew aboard
for the two weeks it would take.  She could actually get some shore leave
herself, between the meetings she would be expected to attend at the Hexagon.

And things seem to be
heating up at the front
, she thought with a frown, wishing she were there.  But the
orders that had just come down had been clear.  Her ships were to go through
refit.  There was very little one scout group could do in a battle than would
involve over thirty thousand ships.

Satin awaited her as she
entered the sitting room of her quarters, jumping down from the couch and
running up to his mistress.   The cream colored cat sat at her feet and looked
up with a soft meow.

Mei picked up the cat
with a laugh, stroking his soft fur.  She carried the cat to the couch and sat
down, laying the feline in her lap and lying back.

I love you, kitty cat
, she thought as she
closed her eyes and felt the deep purr of the little beast. 
But perhaps
it’s time to seek some human companionship
.  It had been ages since she had
a lover, male or female.  She really wasn’t sure what she would prefer at this
time.  Just someone warm and loving and passionate.  And compassionate.  Now
that she was a duchess she also had to have some consideration for an heir,
which meant a father, though that would have to wait until she had a year of
time to devote to being a mother.  It would not be wise to be aboard a warship
while carrying a child.

The thought of a child
brought another smile to her face, and she lay back on the comfortable couch,
her cat in her lap.  Soon she was sound asleep, dreams of the duchy she had
never actually visited, but was planning to while her ships were in dock, soon
on her mind.

*     *     *

Tomas Gijardo looked over
the sidewalk from his table at the café, sipping a fine coffee as he thought
about his plans for the day. 
Imperial day weekend
, he thought, watching
the crowds moving through the streets.  Major businesses and offices were
closed this three-day weekend.  Schools, colleges, even the Fleet Academy at
Peal Island.  Even the great majority of stores were closed, with the exception
of restaurants, bars and entertainment establishments.  The Imperial Zoo and
Botanical Gardens would have record crowds this day, and transportation
services would be packed.  An hour from now the titular Main Street, running
past Parliament and the Reformed Catholic Cathedral, would start, running for
thirty kilometers toward the Constance the Great spaceport.  All the high and
mighty of the city would be there to watch the endless display of bands, floats
and military units that would move by.

“Hi, handsome,” said a
soft voice, just before the lovely blond woman slid into the seat across the
table from the office manager.

“Hello, beautiful,”
answered Tomas, looking into the blue eyes of the love of his life.  “Beautiful
day for it.  And what would you like to do this day?  Parade?”

“Ugh,” said Margo, making
a face.  “And have to fight through those crowds.  How about we go visit the
Imperial Museum for a bit, then a nice lunch.”

“And after that?”

“After that,” she said
with a smile.  “I think we should spend some time together, alone.  Your place
or mine?”

*     *     *

Rebecca looked into the
ashes of the fire as she whittled away the piece of wood.  She didn’t know what
she was making, if anything.  Her mind was only half on the pastime, the rest
of it was where she wanted to be, in the city, waiting for the parade to start.

Leave it to Cornelius to
want to take us on a camping trip on the biggest holiday of the year,
she thought, the frown
on her face deepening.  She loved her adoptive father.  How could she not, when
he had saved her life, then saved her from being just another orphan given into
the hands of the system.  But his idea of fun, to go out into the wilderness
and away from the comforts of civilization?  That left her scratching her
head. 
Didn’t he get enough of that on deployment
, she thought, slicing
another sliver of wood, this time pushing a little too hard.

The knife sliced through
the wood and into her thumb, cutting deep.  She hissed in surprise, not really
feeling the pain as the ultra-sharp blade entered her flesh.

“Careful,” said
Cornelius, suddenly there and kneeling at her side.  He pulled out a cloth and
wrapped it around her thumb, stopping the bleeding.  “You have to pay attention
to what you’re doing when you’re handling a blade like this.”

“I know,” she said with a
grimace as he pulled the cloth away for a moment to check out her injury.

“Not too bad.  Your
nanites should have it closed up in no time.  You’re lucky you didn’t cut the
damned thing off.”

“I told you she was too
young for a knife like that,” said Devera, looking over from the camp chair she
was sitting in as she watched Junior hitting the ground with a stick.

“I had a knife like that
when I was her age,” said Cornelius, giving his wife an angry look.

“And you had been raised
by your father, the hunt master, to be a little Tarzan.  She hasn’t had that
training.”

“She did well enough on
Azure, on her own,” said Cornelius, gritting his teeth.

Rebecca was beginning to
feel very uncomfortable at the adult argument going on because of her.  She
knew it wouldn’t lead to anything, married couples had arguments all the time. 
Still, she didn’t like the idea that she might have done something that drove a
wedge, no matter how temporary, between her adoptive parents.