Exodus: Empires at War: Book 11: Day of Infamy (Exodus: Empires at War.) (13 page)

This is bullshit
, thought the pilot as
she nursed her ship along at what she thought was an insult to the capabilities
of the aircraft.  The only active weapons she had on the craft were the lasers
and particle beams, and all of them were powered down.  Missiles had been left
behind, since this was only a show formation, and she wondered what would
happen if they needed to fight this day.

Don’t be a complete ass
, she thought with a
laugh. 
What the hell is going to happen here.
  It took nine minutes to
go from the origin of the parade to the terminus, and at the end the group
pulled noses to the sky and rocketed upwards in a starburst, all craft
diverging in pairs until they covered the sky.  Moments later another group did
the same, followed by another, the entire wing.  More aircraft would fly over
the crowd, Army and Fleet, but their job was done for the day.

There’s a fight going on
at the front
,
she thought with a scowl. 
And that’s where I should be, defending the
airspace of a planet that might actually be attacked.

“Return to base,” ordered
the Colonel in charge of the group.

Visserman almost asked
for permission to stay in the air so she could get a good view of the
festivities, but knew better than to ask for this on such a day.  Air traffic
over the city on a day like this was a nightmare, and the last thing they
needed were some hotshot pilots mixing it up with Sunday drivers.

“Where to now, Chief?”
asked her crew chief after she had set the fighter down into its revetment. 
“Going into the city to enjoy the party?”

“I don’t think so,
Sergeant,” she told the man who was responsible for the performance of her ship
as much as she was.  “I think I’ll just hang around the base, and maybe catch a
couple of vids.  The party doesn’t really interest me.”

Debra walked away from
the revetment, headed for the barracks where her quarters were housed.  She
knew the Crew Chief was shaking his head.  He couldn’t wait to get off the base
and stuck into the party.  But all she wanted to do was fly.  Preferably in
combat, though that seemed like it would be denied her.

Chapter Ten

Nobody ever defended anything successfully, there
is only attack and attack and attack some more. George S. Patton

H HOUR

“Wormhole expanded to
mission parameters,” came the call from the cargo compartment, where several of
the human crew were making sure the gate was fully operational.

“Signal coming through
from command,” said the Com Tech, monitoring her instruments.  “Second mission
ship reporting that all is ready.”

“T minus one minute,”
called out the Tactical Officer, monitoring a second com channel coming through
from the mission commander on the other end of the wormhole gate.

The aura of excitement
permeated the bridge, or maybe that was fear.  This was the first time the
Ca’cadasan military had ever attempted such a maneuver.   The humans and their
Empire had been doing this for well over a year, but no one knew how many
problems they might have had before they perfected the method.  The Emperor had
not wanted to wait for trial and error learning.  He wanted a successful attack
launched, and had ordered the mission to go ahead.  Now it was up to his
military servants to make his wishes reality.  Or fail.

There is no failure
, thought Tom Jasper,
looking over at his human shipmates who were busy updating targeting
information to the attack groups.  There weren’t many changes.   A few newly
arrived ships in orbit around one or other of the worlds, waiting for the go
ahead to begin shipping their cargos down to the surface.  They were not
priority targets, but they were targets, and they would also be serviced when
the time came.

A buzzer went off, and
the timer counted down to the final twenty seconds.

“Opening cargo hatch,”
said the Captain, hitting the commit switch on the control board he stood
before.  Down in the primary cargo hold, a mostly empty space eight hundred
meters long by six hundred high and wide, the huge loading hatch moved out then
swung open.  Set back a hundred meters inside the hold, where it was partially
shielded from observation, the five hundred by five hundred meter mirrored
surface of a wormhole gate sat.

“
Fool’s Bane
is
starting their launch sequence,” called out the Com Tech.

“Get our first groups
through,” said Jasper to the Tactical Officer.  People here were going to know
something was up really fast, as soon as the warning came through from the
Donut.

“First group coming
through, now,” called out the Tactical Officer.  A moment later the noses of
the first attack group, these fast accelerating fighters, came erupting from
the mirrored surface at fifty kilometers a second, coasting along with most of
their systems powered down, almost invisible in space.  The fifty fighters of
that first group were through in a staggered formation that took eight seconds
to traverse the gate.  Two seconds after the last had cleared, the first of the
next group started through at the same velocity, coasting on the same heading
as the fighters that preceded them.  The spacecraft each cut in a couple of
gravities acceleration, just enough to spread their formations out further,
reducing the risk of collision.

That was one of the
greatest risks to pushing so many craft through the wormhole gate in such a
short time.   A collision on the other side could push one or more craft into
the frame of the gate at a high enough velocity to shatter that structure,
closing the portal and ending the mission for most of the fighters.  Fifteen
groups made it through, ten of fighters, five of attack craft, before the first
mishap occurred.  Not on the far side of the wormhole, but after transit, when
two of the ship attack craft brushed each other before they could open up the
distance.  Fifty kilometers a second didn’t seem like much to spaceships that
could get up to almost three hundred thousand kilometers a second.  It was
enough to generate the kinetic energy needed to breach the hull of one of the
craft, tearing through into one of the missile holds and causing a second
breach, this of a two hundred megaton warhead meant to heavily damage and
potentially kill a warship.

At that moment the
warhead was one hundred and thirty-one kilometers from the
Laughing Troll,
far enough that they put minimal heat and radiation back into the ship, just
enough to trigger the detection meters.  Half of the squadron they were with
didn’t fare as well, situated as they were within hundreds of meters of the
detonation.  There was little in the way of actual blast in the airlessness of
space, consisting only of the mass of the missile and the two craft involved in
the collision.  Six craft detonated as well when the heat and radiation hit
them.  Warheads, even the antimatter kind, were encased in tough materials, and
only five more of the weapons detonated, including two among the ships that had
collided.

“Well, that changes
everything,” said the Captain, looking over at his Com Tech.  “Send the signal
through.  Tell them to start accelerating on entry to this space.”

“That will give them
away,” growled the Cacada overseer.

“I think those blasts
already gave the game away, my Lord.  Now it’s most important for them to get
to their targets as fast as possible, or preferably to launch at range.”

The Cacada stood there
for a moment, thinking it over.  Much longer than a human would have, and not
for the first time did Jasper wonder how such creatures had risen to rule such
a large Empire.  “Go ahead,” said the Male, crossing his arms over his chest
and taking on an aspect of having come up with the idea himself.

Jasper nodded and waved
for the Com Tech to send the orders, looking at the timer that showed that they
had wasted a half minute due to the recalcitrance of the Overlord.  Now all of
the fighters and attack ships started boosting toward their targets at their
maximum acceleration, appearing on every tactical monitor in the Jewel/New
Terra system.  Not that every sensor in the system wasn’t already turning their
way, thanks to the half dozen bright flashes of antimatter warheads erupting in
a place where no such were supposed to be.

*     *     *

“What the hell is going
on?” yelled Admiral Hoshi Nakama, looking up from his evening meal as the warning
klaxons went off across the huge primary Central Dock station.  The four star
flag officer was in overall charge of the facility, which included the
thousands of building and repair slips, warehouses and parts assembly stations,
and the fortresses set about the entire area.

“We’re still trying to
determine what is going on, sir,” said the Captain who appeared on the holo
that formed over the table.  “What we do know is there were some large
detonations in space about twelve thousand kilometers toward Jewel.  Radiation
patterns are consistent with antimatter blasts.  Thirty seconds after the blast
a number of small spacecraft appeared on the scan boosting at high
acceleration.”

“Identification?”

“We’re not sure, sir. 
But I doubt they are friendlies.  We’re running an analysis on their grabber
resonances, and they don’t match anything Imperial or allied.”

“Order all forts and
ships to battle stations,” ordered the Admiral.  “Don’t fire until we’re sure
they’re hostiles.”  The Admiral had visions of blowing some experimental craft
out of space while they were on a training mission.  And if he was the one to
order such, he could probably kiss his career goodbye.  If the order came from
some ship or fort commander, he could blame them.

“We have missile launch, sir,”
called out the Captain on the holo, shock showing on her face.  “Missile launch
from the unknowns.”

And that tells me all I
need to know
,
thought the Admiral, jumping up from his seat and starting for the control
room.  “Order all forts and stations to launch fighters.  Rules of engagement
are to take any unknowns under fire.”

Nakama was still
wondering who this enemy was, and where they had come from, when he entered the
station control room.  About half the consoles were manned, normal for a
regular shift, but seconds later people starting coming in, reporting to their
battle stations.

“We think they’re Cacas,
sir,” said Captain Victoria Crenshaw, the duty officer.  “Resonances are a
close match for their ship launched fighters.”

“And where in the hell
are they coming from?” asked the Admiral, sitting down at the station that was
reserved for him.

“We’re still trying to
determine that, sir.  They seem to be originating at this point, or at least
this is where they are kicking in their grabbers.”  The holo viewer showed a
nondescript freighter at that point.

“Could they have carried
them here?” asked the Admiral as another fifty-four icons appeared just away
from the freighter.

“We have a lock on their
missiles, ma’am,” called out one of the techs.  The main holo switched to a
tactical view, showing the icons of the enemy fighters, acceleration figures
below them, and the even smaller markers of the missiles with higher numbers
underneath.  Friendly icons were also blinking, showing targets as predicted from
the missile track.  Including the station they were sitting on.

*     *      *

“We’re tracking over five
hundred small spacecraft, ma’am,” said the Assistant Tactical Officer who was
the highest ranking member of his division onboard.  “About half of them have
launched missiles.”

“Only half?” asked Mei
Lei as she took the captain’s seat on the bridge.  “Have the firing ships
flushed?”

“I doubt it, ma’am,” said
the officer, speaking loudly over the klaxons that were calling what remained
of the crew to their battle stations.  “We’re estimating that the ships that
have fired have launched at most two missiles.  I think they have launched on
their prearranged targets, and are now holding back for targets of
opportunity.”

“Any larger vessels on
the scan?”

“No, ma’am,” said the
officer, looking at his board.  “All weapons are manned, such as we are able.”

“Make sure our close in
defenses and lasers have as many people as we can spare,” ordered the Admiral,
looking at the tactical plot and making her decisions.  “I don’t think there is
going to be any need for our main missile batteries in this engagement.”

The Admiral looked over
at the Com Tech, a Klassekian, who was on duty at the communications station. 
“Send out a signal to the rest of the task group.  All ships are to follow my
lead.”  She looked over at the Assistant Tac Officer.  “Send all data we have
on the unknowns to the other ships.  And coordinate some kind of firing
response on all the unknowns and anything they launch.”

“Grabbers are online,
ma’am,” said the Chief who was manning the helm station.  “Orders?”

“Until we have a
destination, I want us moving in the best evasive pattern you can generate. 
Understood?”

A destroyer, thankfully
not from her group, ate a missile at that point, its icon blinking for a
moment, then disappearing from the plot.

“All ships, execute
firing plan, now,” she ordered, leaning back in her seat and trying to think of
anything else she could do at this time, and coming up with a blank.

*     *     *

Fool’s Bane
launched within seconds
of her sister ship.  The fighters she carried didn’t even try to hide like
those launched from the
Laughing Troll. 
They had a long way to go, and
a short time to get there, and accelerated at their maximum rate as soon as
they left the wormhole.  They also launched at the largest target any of them
had ever seen, something they really couldn’t miss.  The problem was getting
the warheads to the target through all of the defenses, which was one reason
this attack was over twenty times larger than the one hitting the capital.

We should have known they
wouldn’t let us close to that thing without a challenge. 
The mission had been
planned with that challenge in mind, though it had been hoped that they might
get in closer.  As soon as the challenge had come,
Fool’s Bane
had sent
the signal initiating H-hour, and their sister had also launched her attack.

Fool’s Bane
had expanded her own
wormhole past the hull of the ship, in a frame a kilometer on a side.  Instead
of releasing entire groups of fifty-six craft, the gate pumped out four group
wings of two hundred and twenty-four fighters and attack ships.  They didn’t
gain any momentum from this end of the hole, only carrying through what they
had brought in.  The same phenomenon that made it dangerous to transit from
fast moving platforms that were beyond the limited means of the wormhole to
absorb inertia.  The freighter was pushing point one three light, and the
fighters were coming out with enough velocity to keep from falling back into
the moving hole.

It took a little over
sixteen minutes to release the first attack wave toward the
Donut,
almost
fourteen thousand fighters and over eight thousand ship attack craft,
twenty-two thousand craft, heading out of the wormhole at over point one five
light.  As soon as all of the ship attack craft were in space and closing up
into one mass formation, they released half of their long range assets, sixteen
thousand missiles accelerating at eight thousand gravities.