Exodus: Empires at War: Book 7: Counter Strike (32 page)

“I am signing an order right now to pull that
bill out of committee and onto the floor of the Lords,” said Sean, linking in
with the building computer, and through them the comp at the Parliamentary
Lords Office Building.  He looked over the bill, gave the order, and affixed
his electronic signature to it.

“Will that not incense the Lords?” asked the
Minister.

“I really don’t care how the Lords feel about
it,” said Sean, standing up and looking over the table at all the ministers. 
“I am trying to restrain myself from instituting martial law, but they keep
trying my patience.  We are at war people.  A real war, to the finish.  And
that makes me the dictator of the Empire, if I so wish.  I don’t wish, and they
will bow down to me in this matter, lest they find themselves with little in
the way of power.  Am I understood?  If Parliament ever interferes with your
business in this time of trouble, I want you to let me know.”

The heads nodded around the table, as Ministers
looked at him with wide eyes.

“You are your father’s son,” said T’lisha, a
smile on his long face.

Sean nodded, smiling at the compliment, then
sat back down so they could get back to business.

*    
*     *

RUBY, SUPERSYSTEM. 
DECEMBER 18
^TH
, 1001.

Bagget looked up at the dim orange star in the
sky as he stepped onto the reviewing stand.  The gravity felt normal, as would
be expected on a planet with a one point zero one field.  The local vegetation
was variations of purple and orange, the terraformed life of Tau Ceti, mostly
orange out here on the grasslands.

I haven’t been back here since I graduated from
Sandhurst,
thought
the officer of the Imperial Army Academy that was located on this, the major
army training planet of the Empire, orbiting around the star Umber.  Sanctuary
D-IV was the official nomenclature for the planet, it went by the common name
Ruby, and it was one of the major land warfare bases of the Empire.

He reached the top of the reviewing stand and looked
out over the open field, on which was arrayed the prize that the Emperor
promised him.  The First Heavy Infantry Division, one of the oldest and most
decorated of the Empire.  Over twenty thousand men and women standing in their
armor out in the cool sun. 
And it’s all mine.  Hopefully, I can lead some
more of them back than I did from my last unit
, he thought.  That division
was also on Ruby, receiving replacements, rebuilding.  In another three months
they might be combat ready again.  Then again, it might take longer.

The three close combat brigades of the division
were arrayed toward the front, each with three rectangles of heavy armor suited
infantry, almost eight hundred to a group.  Behind them was each brigade’s
armored battalion, thirty-two of the one thousand ton King Tyrannosaur heavy
tanks, and fifteen of the smaller Velociraptor light scout tanks, a mere two
hundred tons.  Standing behind the tanks was the headquarters battalion,
including the actual HQ company, and companies of engineers and antiair.

Back behind the line brigades was the combat
support brigade, with the division headquarters company, as well as three
artillery battalions and a heavier ADA battalion.  Also attached to this unit
was a heavy engineer battalion, with all of the various machines needed to help
dig the unit it, or an enemy out.  And the specialized jamming and
countermeasure companies that would help to obscure the unit from space.

Two aviation battalions were also assigned to
the division, and their ground crews stood to the side of the combat support
brigade.  Their vehicles, twenty four ground attack craft, fourteen heavy
transports, and a dozen air superiority fighters, were hovering in the air
above the division.

“The unit is ready for your review, sir,” said
Brigadier Dagni Thorwaldsdottir, her regrown leg still in a supporting cast
while nanites and stimulation reconstituted its strength.  She had also
received a promotion, and Baggett had requested her as his exec.  The original
division commander had been promoted up to corps command, while the exec had
been given another division.

“I trust they are all in order,” said Samuel,
smiling at the beautiful warrior, who would be cleared for suit duty in another
week or so, it was hoped.

“You can count on it, Sir Samuel,” said the
woman with a return smile.

Baggett nodded and stood as the unit passed in
review, the first of the heavy infantry brigades marching out of their
rectangles and along the front of the stand.  The brigade commander, battalion
and company commanders all saluted as they passed, their helmeted heads turned
toward the stand.  The tanks followed in a line.  As soon as the first brigade
passed in review the second marched out, and then the third.  Combat support
command and the aviation battalions followed suit, until the entire division
had passed.

“We will be deploying in a week, from what I
have heard,” said Baggett to his exec, after the last trooper had marched away.

“Combat drop, or slow and easy?” asked the
woman, referring to a safe shuttle landing.

“I think they have something else in mind for
us and the other corps.”

“Corps, as in multiple?  Just what are they
planning?”

“We’re going to take back our planets, Dagni”
said Baggett, looking off into the sky.  “While our Fleet is blasting the damned
Cacas out of space, we’re going to kill every damned one of them we can catch
on the ground.”

Chapter
Twenty-one

Wars
have never hurt anybody except the people who die.

Salvador Dali

SECTOR IV SPACE. 
DECEMBER 21
^ST
, 1001.

“Oh shit,” said Dr. Larry Southard, looking at
the most current scan of the blue supergiant.  Most recent, in that it was over
three hours ago in real time. 
We’re dead
, he thought, looking at the
spectrograph that showed the star was starting to fuse silicon.  Millions of
tons of silicon a second, piling up the same mass of iron in the core.  And
when enough iron accumulated the star would stop putting out energy, it would
collapse inward, until it reached the pressures were it couldn’t collapse any
more.  And then it would rebound.

“Captain,” he called out on the com.

“I see it Doctor,” said that officer, his voice
still calm.  “We’re boosting for the hyper barrier right now.  We should arrive
in seven hours.  Dr. Tashiga assures me that we will still have plenty of time
to make the jump.”

“Dr. Tashiga couldn’t assure me that he knows
where his ass is, Captain,” said Southard.  “I think we better get in the tanks
and put on all the acceleration we can.  And the destroyers need to be warned,
now, so they have a chance of escaping.”

“This isn’t supposed to be happening,”
protested Tashiga over the com.  “It wasn’t supposed to be burning silicon for
at least another week.”

“Unfortunately, Tashiga,” said Southard in his
best sneering tone, “the star decided not to listen to you.”

“All crew,” called the voice of the Captain
over the com, his voice echoing over the speakers as well.  “All crew, report
to the acceleration tanks.  We need to move, people.  Emergency accel in three
minutes.”

Normal procedure called for a five minute
period between the warning and initiation of emergency boost.  That the Captain
was cutting it short meant he was taking the threat very seriously. 
If only
you had taken it seriously enough when we weren’t in danger.

Southard was in his designated tube in two and
a half minutes.  He hoped the other crew had made it as well, though he really
didn’t care if Tashiga was in his or not.

“Emergency boost in twenty seconds,” came the
voice over the com.  When the clock ticked down,
Gringo
went into her
emergency max of five hundred and twenty gravities, thirty-two above the
maximum her inertial compensators could handle.  There was no more reserve
available.  If something happened to the compensators, they were all dead.

An hour passed, then another, while the ship
piled on the acceleration and clawed for the barrier.  If all they needed to do
was to get there it would be one thing, but they also needed to decel to a low
enough velocity to make a jump, or the heat and electromag radiation from the
supernova would still burn them out of space.  Southard was linked into the
ship’s sensors, and through them the transmission from the satellites.  Not
that the satellites would do much good, as their signal would reach the ship
about the same time as the thermal wave.

“We have major graviton fluctuations,” said the
voice of the computer over the com.  “Graviton emissions are off the scale.”

Which means the star has collapsed, and is now
exploding.

Three and a half light hours away that was what
was happening.  The star exploded, sending a trillion trillion trillion
trillion trillion tons of high temperature matter out in a globular blast that
would spread for thousands of years at a high fraction of light speed.  Running
ahead of it was the wave of heat and light.  Everything in the system that got
in its way was vaporized, to be added to the plasma from the star that would
eventually form a stellar nursery.

The explosion of the star itself was forging
elements far heavier than iron, the only way these substances could be created
in the natural Universe.  They would help to enrich the planets that would form
around the new stars, and could possibly be of use to whatever life developed
on those worlds, if any.

This was of no interest to the people aboard
the research ship.  They were counting down the arrival time of the thermal
wave, and finding no hope in that countdown.  The clock was off by several
seconds, the people aboard surviving for just a bit longer.  Dr. Southard’s
last thought was he hoped the explosion actually did what the Empire wanted it
to.  Then he, like the ship around him, was converted into a fine hot plasma
that was later pushed along by the material wave of the explosion.

The destroyers picked up the graviton
disturbances as well, and their captains made the proper decision.  The ships
fired up their hyperdrive projectors and attempted to open up the holes into
the higher dimension, sure that the superhot matter would pass them by. 
Unfortunately for them, the projectors could not open those holes.  Space and
hyperspace was roiling from the explosion, and this close to the blast hyper
was not available.  The destroyers and their crews suffered the same fate as
the research vessel.  The one equipped with a wormhole com was able to get out
the message that the star had exploded, fulfilling that part of its mission.

Gravitons sped off from the explosion through
all dimensions of hyper, in VIII at a pseudospeed of a hundred and sixty
thousand times the speed of light.  Hyperspace became inaccessible for several
light years around the former star converted to expanding nebula.  And for
hundreds of light years in every direction the dimensions reverberated with the
blast of gravitons.  No instrument capable of tracking ships through the
dimensions could hear through that noise.  Just what the Empire had been
counting on.

*    
*     *

THE
DONUT.

“My God,” blurted out the com tech on duty in
the Fleet Command Communications Center.  “They’re gone.”

“What are you babbling about, Sheila,” said Lt.
Commander Tosh McIntosh, walking over to the Tech’s panel.

The room was filled with people, sitting at
over a hundred stations, one of scores of such chambers across the
Donut
. 
Their job was to keep track of all the myriad ships and commands that used
wormhole coms.

“It was the
Minimoto
,” said the Tech. 
“One of the ships watching that star that was about to blow.  They shouted
‘it’s blown up’, then dropped off the net completely.”  The tech started
checking her diagnostics, then looked up at the Commander with wide eyes.  “The
wormhole link has been severed, sir.”

Did they mean the star had blown.  There
couldn’t really be any other explanation, could there?
  “Link up with the
nearest wormhole equipped ship from that star.  I want a report from them.”

“Yes, sir,” said the Tech, getting to work.

“I’m going to kick this upstairs,” said
McIntosh.  “I know they’ve been waiting for this, but I don’t think they
figured it would be this soon.”

McIntosh sent up the com request to his
immediate superior, all the time hoping that there had been some mistake. 
Otherwise, three destroyers and their crews had died in a manner in which no
human ever had before.

*    
*     *

CAPITULUM, JEWEL.

“Your Majesty,” said the voice through his
priority com.  “It’s happened.”

Sean opened his eyes, looking at the sleeping
form of the woman beside him.  Her arm was now healed, and as far as he could
tell she was settling into the position of Empress just fine.  Not that she had
any really pressing duties, since hers was more one of an ambassador of
goodwill to the people on the Homefront.

“How long ago?” he asked, not even needing to
ask what the woman on the other end was referring to.  Senior Agent May knew
better than to disturb him at night about anything that wasn’t of the utmost
importance.

“Initial report came in to Fleet twenty minutes
ago,” said the Agent.  “It was verified fifteen minutes later by another
wormhole equipped ship about five light years from the star.”

“Why did it have to be verified?  What did the
ships on the scene say?”

“This is Admiral McCullom, your Majesty,” came
the voice of the CNO over the com.  “We lost contact with our ships after the
first report.  I am afraid that the destroyers and the research ship might not
have made it away in time.”

Sean closed his eyes, feeling the pain of
losing yet more people, in a situation he really hadn’t thought there would be
that much risk. 
Why couldn’t they jump to hyper before the thermal wave
reached them?
   He dismissed the thought he didn’t have time for. 
We
weren’t ready for it to happen so soon, but it happened when it did.

“What are your orders, your Majesty?” asked the
CNO.  “The clock is ticking.”

I realize that, Admiral.  It seems the damned
thing never slows down. 
 “Alert all commands.  We will move as soon as possible.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” said McCullom, her voice
showing anxiety and eagerness both.  “The joint chiefs will be meeting within
the hour to finalize our deployments.”

“I will be there, Admiral,” said Sean, sitting
up in bed.  “Sean out.”

A hand touched the Emperor on the back. 
“What’s going on?” asked a sleepy voice.

He turned to see Jennifer propped up on one
arm, her other hand rubbing across his shoulders. 
And I’ve got to leave you
again.  But better you stay here, safe, so I have one less worry while I’m out
with the fleet. 
“The star blew up,” he said, turning, putting the back of
his hand against her cheek and caressing her.

“I thought it wasn’t going to go supernova for
another week or two?”

“Unfortunately, the stars don’t ask when they
can do what they want,” he said with a sad smile.  “We’re going to have to jump
off faster than I expected.”

“Just make sure you come back to me.”

“Oh, I’ll be back after the meeting with the
Joint Chiefs.”

“You know what I mean,” said Jennifer, sitting
up and kissing him.  She broke the kiss and touched his face.  “No matter what,
you come back.  No heroics.  Lead, but don’t go charging into the fray like
some damned knight on horseback.”

“Yes, ma’am,” agreed Sean, kissing her, then
getting up from bed.  “Now, I need to look presentable before I appear before
my levymen.  You know how they think their Emperor is always ready.”

She laughed.  “At least you’re always ready in
bed, my love.  And that’s where I want you, when this operation of yours is
over.”

Sean returned the laugh, then headed into the
bath to get a quick shower, sending orders through his link for his personal
steward to have a uniform ready for him, then a signal to his security detail
to ready the underground tram to the Hexagon.

*    
*     *

SECTOR IV SPACE.

“The star has gone supernova,” said Grand Fleet
Admiral Len Lenkowski over the com holo.

“It wasn’t supposed to do that for another two
weeks,” protested Grand Fleet Admiral the Duke Taelis Mgonda, sitting up at his
desk.  The two admirals were in different systems, separated by twenty light
years.  There were still gaps in their projected orders of battle.  Gaps they
expected to have filled in the coming weeks. 
Now I guess that won’t happen
,
thought the Duke.

“I said that very thing to Sondra, and she just
told me the insubordinate son of a bitch just went off on its own, without her
permission.”

“So we go,” said Mgonda.  “Ready or not.”

“Oh, we’ll still have a couple of days before
we have to boost to the targets,” said Len.  “That will give us a chance to get
some more of our logistics ships in place, if nothing else.  And get the
Emperor on board.”

“I still don’t like the idea of having him with
the Fleet,” said Mgonda, raising a hand in protest before the other admiral,
his true equal in rank, could speak.  “I know.  He’s good for morale.  The boys
and girls will follow him everywhere.  And he’s finally getting enough sense
through his thick head to listen, and balancing that with the judgment to take
command when he needs to.  I just worry that an errant missile will get
through, and we’ll have a crisis of succession on our hands, just when we don’t
need it.”

“He’s like that star, Taelis,” said the other
Admiral with a smile.  “He’s going to do what he wants, no matter what we try
to do about it.”

Len looked off the holo for a second, then back
with a grimace on his face.  “I’ve got to go, Taelis.  We’re expected to attend
the conference at the Hexagon by holo.  And you know how I feel about that.”

Mgonda laughed as he thought, knowing exactly
what the other admiral was thinking about.
 Once we were our own lords and
masters while deployed, days or weeks away from command.  Now they’re on our
ass all the time.

*    
*     *