Exodus: Empires at War: Book 11: Day of Infamy (Exodus: Empires at War.) (36 page)

*     *     *

“Jumping into normal
space, now,” called out the Helm Officer.

The Great Admiral gave a
head motion of acknowledgement, staring at the plot.  The rest of his fleet was
gone, either destroyed or on the run.  But he still had several thousand ships
heading into the main objective of the mission.  According to the information
they had gotten from the human officers they had taken prisoner, this system
was now lightly defended.  And the allies of the humans had pulled their ships
from the front.

It seems that their
alliance was not as strong as they thought.  They are weaker than we had
thought, and if we can take this system, and install a gate, the next move will
be into the heart of their empire.

The lights dimmed for a
moment as the nausea of translation hit.  Ahead was the bright star of the New
Moscow system, the plot coming alive with the graviton emissions of ships. 
Only a couple of hundred, about what he expected.  He knew the humans had at
least one gate in the system, but their attention had been elsewhere, and they
hadn’t been able to ship reinforcements here.

“Order all ships to head
for the planet,” ordered the Great Admiral.  “We will brush aside everything
they try to put in our path.”

“You need to see this, my
Lord,” called out the Tactical Officer.  “We are getting this from one of the
lead ships.”

The tactical plot
changed, converting into a holo viewer that showed what was happening in the
orbit of the planet.  Or what had happened over two hours prior.  The frame of
a wormhole gate was centered in the holo, a large ship transiting from it. 
Immediately after another came through.

“That is not a human
ship,” exclaimed the Great Admiral.

“No, my lord.  It looks
like one of the vessels from the Empire the humans call Elysium.”  The view
panned out, showing many more of those ships in orbit, as well as an equal
number of another configuration of vessel.

The Great Admiral
recognized those.  The warships of the reptilian forms known as Crakista. 
There seemed to be a lot of their ships as well, but how many?  Enough to
challenge his force.

“We’re picking up graviton
emissions, my Lord,” called out the Tactical Officer, an expression close to
panic on his face.

“How many?”

“Estimate over six
thousand, my Lord.  And we still have ships coming from out of the wormhole.”

The Admiral pulled the
data up on a side holo.  Actually it looked like there were two wormhole gates,
and they were both transiting ships according to the new graviton sources that
kept springing up every ten seconds or so.  They were bringing them in as fast
as they could.  And the ones already in the system were heading out toward them
at over five hundred gravities.  Moments later a hundred and sixty thousand
more graviton sources appeared on the sensors, missiles traveling out at ten
thousand gravities.

“It looks like the humans
have shared their newest missile technologies with their allies,” said another
officer over the com.

That was such a foreign
concept to the Ca’cadasans, who, while they might use a subjugated alien race
for certain tasks, would never give them their best military tech.

“Orders, my Lord?”

“Get me command on the
com,” said the Great Admiral, looking over at his Com Officer.  “How long
before we can configure the wormhole into a gate?” he asked his Tactical
Officer.  They only had the one, and he wasn’t sure how fast they could build
up his forces.

“At least two hours, my
Lord.  We can possibly get about two hundred ships through each hour.  But the
missiles will be arriving in a little over four.”

So we can get at most
four hundred ships through before the missiles arrive.  Not enough to take on
that force.
 
Even as those thoughts were going through his mind the enemy launched again,
putting another hundred and sixty thousand missiles into space.  If they kept
launching at the rate they were going there would be a million missiles hitting
his force before he got more than those four hundred additional ships through.

“Start launching at the
enemy,” The Great Admiral ordered.  “We might as well get ours off where they
can build up to attack velocity.  How long to turned the force around and get
back to the barrier?”

“Three and a half hours,
my Lord.”

“Great Admiral,” came a
familiar voice out of the com as the face of the Emperor appeared before him.

“Supreme Lord,” said the
Admiral, getting out of his seat and dropping to one knee.

“I have been apprised of
your situation.  You are to vacate that system as fast as possible.  I want you
to get those ships and crews back.  They do us more good surviving to lead the
next offensive, than being reduced to scrap in that system.”

“I am sorry, Supreme
Lord.”

“I authorized this
mission, Admiral,” said the Emperor.  “I should have delayed until we had more
ships, and hit both the frontier and their home systems with greater forces.”

The Great Admiral thought
for a moment.  They could get into hyper before those missiles reached them,
barely.  From there they could transit for an hour or so, then jump back to
normal space and deploy the gate.  It would take the enemy force almost two
days to get out to the barrier, and almost a day for any other forces to get
within range.  They could get their ships through the gate, but..

“We will lose the
wormhole, Supreme Lord.”

“Then lose the damn
thing.  They’re valuable, but not more so than all of your ships and crews.  So
go ahead and retreat, by my command.”

The holo died, and the
Great Admiral, relief and shame warring with each other within him, turned to
his Com Officer.

“Give the order.  All
ships are to immediately begin deceleration.  They are to head back to the
barrier and jump.  Now.”

The Com Officer gave a
head motion of acceptance, his expression one of relief.  They would all live
to fight another day.  Which was really all they could accomplish at this
point.

*     *     *

“They are leaving the New
Moscow system, your Majesty,” said the Avian creature on the holo.

“Thank you, Lord
Grarakakak,” said Sean, bowing his head.  “I am indebted to you.”

“It was the least we
could do, your Majesty.  After all, we let you down in your hour of need.”

Sean knew that was true,
but he wasn’t about to say anything at this time.  That could wait until they
met again, to take up the business of the summit that had been interrupted by
the Caca offensive.

“I’m surprised that you
came to the front yourself, my Lord.”

“If the human ruler could
do so, then I thought it was something I should do as well,” said the High Lord
of the Elysium Empire.  “But it is not something I wish to repeat.”

And I don’t blame you
there
, thought
the Emperor.

“Then I will see you at
the summit in a week.”

“Is that enough time,
your Majesty?” asked Grarakakak, bowing his own head.

“Time is not on our side
at the moment,” said Sean, knowing that he would have to get his grieving done
in the allotted period.  “We need to get things worked out before the damned
Cacas strike again.”

The High Lord bowed
again, then the holo went off.

“Get this ship down to
wormhole transit speed as fast as you can, Captain,” the Emperor ordered the
ship’s commanding officer.  He would be going home, to see what had been done
to his people.  And to he and his wife.

Epilogue

JANUARY 9
^TH
, 1003.

The Supreme Emperor of
the Ca’cadasan Empire, Jresstratta IV, stared at the holo plot of the Imperial
Human Front, alternating that stare with a glare at the males present within
the room.  He looked down at the table, willing calm upon himself.  No one in
this room was to blame for the disaster.  It had been a good plan.  If they had
taken out the station and the smaller structures in orbit around the black
hole, they would have probably won the battle.

We should have sent a
larger force through the wormhole
, he thought once again, closing his eyes for a
moment.  The male in charge of planning for the operations was at fault in
underestimating the humans.  That male would never make a mistake like that in
the future.  His fellow members of the Admiralty had made sure of that. 
And
so we lose another of our more intelligent planners
, thought the Emperor in
regret.  The male had been in error, but he would have learned from his
mistake.  There would be no learning now, no improvement.

And it was my decision. 
No matter what advice was given, I made the final decision.  We should have
sent twice the force through, three times?
  They still didn’t know what happened,
since no one had returned from the attack.  In fact, they didn’t know what had
happened at both targets.  The strike at the enemy capital had gone awry when
the wormhole had collapsed and the bomb ship had nothing to transit.  They
didn’t know how much damage the rest of the attack had done.  Surely some,
maybe a lot.  But not enough.

And the attack on the
wormhole generating station?  Again, they had done some damage, as detailed in
the messages that had come through the deployed wormhole prior to all com
ceasing.  The bomb ship had gone through, and the explosion that came
back-blasting through the wormhole had shown that the reaction of wormhole
through wormhole had occurred.  But as far as they could tell it had not done
the job.  Why?  There was no way to know at this time.  Maybe if their agents
in the human Empire could find out they might know, and then could adjust their
plan.  Though he didn’t believe the same plan would work on a second attempt. 
The humans would be warned; they would be ready for it.

“Can we attack them with
a large force?” asked one of the males in the chamber.  “Maybe send a battle
fleet into their space.”

“That will only be
possible when we have defeated their fleet on their frontier,” replied another
male.  “Anything else we push through will be tracked down and destroyed before
it reaches their core systems.”

The Emperor gave a head
motion of agreement.  Early in the war they might have pushed their fleet
through.  In fact, they had hit a few of the core systems of the humans.  Now,
with their wormhole gates, the humans could shift large fleets from system to system. 
Any heavily populated system the Ca’cadasans attacked would immediately have
the bulk of the human home fleet flooding into the inner system.

“We should have waited
until we had a larger force at the frontier,” said another male.

The Emperor glared at the
male for making such an obvious point.  But he had agreed with that decision,
so it rested on his shoulders.  The Ca’cadasan fleet was widely scattered
around the borders of the Empire.  They were there to expand the Empire, moving
in on other species as soon as they were discovered and adding them to the
community.  A large percentage of the fleet was scattered throughout Imperial
space, holding down the species that might try to rebel.  It took time to
gather those forces.  Six months in some cases to reach a conquest fleet, then
another six months to get them back to the capital.  What they had gathered
would have been a sufficient force to defeat the humans if the attack on the
wormhole generating station had succeeded.  When it didn’t, the force was
insufficient.

“We will have another
force in place within three months,” said the Supreme Grand Admiral, the male
in overall charge of the fleet.  “And I believe that we have enough of a force
in that border of the Empire to stop what the humans have left from pushing
into our space.”

“I want the next attack
force double the size of the one that went in this time,” said the Emperor, his
glare taking in every male in the room.  “With as many wormholes as we can
place on them.  And I want weapons like those the humans are using against us. 
Pre-accelerated missiles, high capacity particle beams.  What they have, I
want.”

“It will take time,
Supreme Lord,” answered a male who led military R&D.

“And the sooner we start,
the sooner we will have them,” growled Jresstratta, sending the male a glare
that made him look away.  “I am tired of excuses.  If the humans can do it, we
can also.  So if we find that they are using something successfully against us,
I want it.”

“The defensive battle on
the Klavarta front was successful, Supreme Lord,” said the Supreme Admiral,
trying to change the subject.  “And our fleet is in pursuit into their space.”

“Which is all well and
good, Supreme Admiral,” said the Emperor, turning a baleful eye on the
officer.  “But they are not our biggest problem.  These damned humans, with
their wormhole technology, are the greatest threat to the Empire we have ever
faced.”

“Might I remind my
Supreme Lord that we now have wormholes as well,” said the Supreme Admiral.

“And they have more of
them,” roared the Emperor, slamming all four fists on the table.  “And they
will continue to have more of them, many more, for years to come.”  He stood
and looked around the room, again making eye contact with every male.  “We need
to think.  We need to plan ahead of time, and not just rush into things.  I
want every one of you to start using your minds.”

The males stared at him
with expressions of disbelief. 
They are typical males of our species
,
thought the Emperor. 
All hormones and glands overriding the higher
functions.
  At that moment the Emperor felt the hopelessness of his
situation.  His people were strong and fierce, and rash and unthinking.  They
really didn’t deserve their position in the Galaxy, and if not for luck and
timing, they would just have been subjects of another species.

But they are my people
, he thought, turning and
walking away from the table, feeling the silent eyes on his back. 
I must do
everything I can to assure that we retain primacy.

*     *      *

“I want my city
restored,” said Sean, staring out of the window of the aircar.  They were
passing over the downtown region, where the stumps of buildings that had
towered kilometers into the air now dominated a nightmare landscape.  To one
side, near the river, was the remains of the Imperial Stadium, home to some of
the most successful sports teams on the planet.  No one would be using it for
some time.

“It will take a lot of
time and effort, your Majesty,” said the mayor of the city, Lord Tyrell
Swofford, sitting across from him in the passenger compartment of the car.  “I
understand that the Empire has other priorities at this time, but I appreciate
the sentiment.”

A soft hand squeezed
Sean’s, and he looked for a moment at his wife, sitting silently by his side. 
Their reunion had been strained at first.  Accusations had flown from both
sides, the things they needed to say at the moment.  Until both had made peace
with the fact that Sean being in the city would have made no difference either
way.  Glenn was back at the Imperial Retreat, being treated like a precious
porcelain doll by the Secret Service.  They still had much grief to work
through, but now was the time to act their parts as the figureheads of the
Empire.

“Yes, we have other
priorities,” said Sean, looking back at the Mayor.  “But this is the heart of
the Empire, and I will not have it remain a ruin.”

The city wasn’t quite a
ruin.  Almost seventy percent of it was untouched, and about ten percent had
only been lightly damage.  The twenty percent that had been hit hard though? 
It looked like a warzone, which was exactly what it had been.

“What’s the total
casualty figure, my Lord?” asked Jennifer, looking out the window and wincing.

“We may not know for
weeks yet, your Majesty, but we know at least two hundred and seventy million
lost their lives.”

Jennifer winced again. 
Sean knew how she felt, because he had the same feeling.  The total for the
entire planet was just under three hundred million.  A drop in the bucket
compared to the twenty billion or so that had been killed in this war.  Sean
didn’t like thinking that way.  The human polities considered all sentient life
precious, unlike their enemies.  That was their largest divergence of
philosophy.  But it was damned difficult to think in terms of millions and
billions, and summon up the energy to grieve for all of them.

“Every intact hospital in
the city is packed to overflowing,” continued the Mayor, looking at the
Imperial couple with red rimmed eyes.  “And every other city on the planet.”

And a number of the
wounded from the
Donut
and Central Docks were also flowing to Jewel. 
Most were going through the wormholes to other worlds.  What it came down to
was modern society was not ready to handle such numbers of casualties.  People
in the Empire lived longer and were healthier than at any time in human
history.  There were no more genetic diseases, and nanotech could cure any
contagion, including the unknown alien variety.  Healing was accomplished
quickly and easily.  Even the dead could be brought back to life if treated in
time, and the injuries not too severe.  But still, when people were caught in
the middle of a battle, there were a lot of injuries that required more
extensive treatment, like limb and organ regrowth.

“I know this is a hard
time for the both of you,” said the Lord Mayor in a hushed voice, looking down
at the floor.  “And I am sorry to intrude on your grief.”

“It is a hard time for us
all,” said Jennifer with a tight smile.  “We are not special in that regard.”

There would be no state
funeral for Augustine.  Instead, he would be remembered along with all of the
other casualties in memorial services across the Empire.  The Imperial family
would have their own private service for the fallen prince.

It could have been much
worse.  If the wormhole bomb had gone off, Jewel and New Terra both would have
taken a beating.  Both worlds would probably have lost everything on their
facing hemispheres, the capital world certainly.  The people on the opposite
hemisphere of Jewel wouldn’t have gotten away scot free.  Most of them would
have died when the blast wave reached around the planet and blew most of the
atmosphere off.  Central Docks would have been destroyed, along with every slip
and factory in the area.  Central Docks had taken a lot of damage, but it was still
in business.  Ships were still being refitted, or finished.  Some had been
destroyed, many more heavily damage, but the damage could be repaired.  And the
Donut? 
And battered as it was, it was already churning out wormholes.

“We have a com coming in
from the CNO, your Majesty,” announced the pilot.

“Sondra?” said Sean in
his mind as the connection was made.

“We have the details
worked out on that plan we discussed, your Majesty.  It appears to be
feasible.  We can be ready to launch in one week.”

Sean produced a killer’s
smile that caused the Lord Mayor to recoil from its savagery. 
Let’s see how
you like being punched in the face,
he thought, imagining the Caca Emperor
looking on a similar scene in his capital.

*     *     *

Lucille watched on the
camera view as twenty lasers, each the size of a battleship, pumped almost
unimaginable torrents of photons into the center of the production chamber. 
They had already fired for minutes, their beams striking the center,
compressing space itself with their interaction.

“There it goes,” said the
Tech who was supervising the process.  As he said that a tiny distortion
appeared at the center of the chamber, absorbing the beams, not letting a
photon escape.

Fifteen more to go, and
we’ll have the guts of a pair wormhole generators,
thought Yu
. 
Those
would take longer to construct, though they already had the framework and most
of the manipulating arms to work with.

The ion drives came on
while the powered back lasers held the new micro-black hole in the center of
the chamber, aboard the satellite that had been constructed for just this
purpose.  It had been used to create all of the wormholes used to rip apart
space and create each end of the wormhole bridge.  Now the hole would be
flooded with thousands of tons of negative ions.   They would disappear through
the miniature event horizon, while their magnetic effects continued to manifest
in normal space, allowing them to be manipulated by the arms of the wormhole
creation chamber.  It would take most of a day to finish this job, then the
holes would be held in a magnetic field and fed enough matter to compensate for
the amount that evaporated away each day.  Otherwise they would soon shrink to
an unmanageable mass and explode.