The Shadow of Cincinnatus (48 page)

And if it didn’t, he told himself, he could make contact with the occupation forces and return to where he belonged.

For defense planners, FTL became a nightmare. An attack could come from any vector at all, without any hope of detection.

-The Federation Navy in Retrospect, 4199

Nova Athena, 4101

“The emperor beat us here, sir,” Lieutenant Thompson said.

“I didn’t know it was a race,” Roman muttered, testily. It would have been
nice
to beat the emperor to Nova Athena, but the Outsiders had put up an unexpected fight in the Salam System and Roman had paused to smash their defenses before proceeding to the edge of the gravity limit and entering FTL. “Hail
Thunderbird
, Lieutenant, and inform the emperor that we are ready to proceed.”

Moments later, the emperor’s face appeared in the display. Roman sucked in his breath when he saw just how haggard the emperor looked; his face was pale and worn, his hair was lanky and there was an unpleasant glint in his eye. And, Roman noted almost absently, he was leaning forward so that everything beneath his collar was concealed. It didn’t look like a good sign.

“Sir,” Roman said, formally. “I’ve uploaded a tactical report to you.”

“I’ll review it later,” Emperor Marius said. His voice was harsh, as if he were having trouble breathing. “I’m forwarding an operational plan to you, based on the intelligence from probes and scoutships. You’ll notice I’ve given you the place of honor.”

Roman studied the details as they appeared in his display. The plan was simple enough; Task Force 5.1 would advance on the planet, while Task Force 5.2 would cover their rear. And yet, there was something about it that set alarm bells off in Roman’s head. Task Force 5.2 – the emperor’s command – would be called upon to do very little, unless the Outsiders put up a real fight. That was so unlike Marius Drake that Roman was almost tempted to call him on it. Whatever else could be said about his mentor, he was no coward, neither morally nor physically.

“I expect your career to be boosted by this,” Emperor Marius continued. “Try not to fuck up.”

“No, sir,” Roman said, carefully.

He kept his consternation hidden as best as he could. It didn’t make sense. Emperor Marius was practically giving him the credit for the operation on a silver platter. He wasn’t the sort of person to steal credit – he’d certainly never tried to take credit for Operation Sword – but it would certainly look odd for him to stand aside when they were both on the scene. It was either blatant favoritism or something worse.

“Then pass the word to your ships,” Emperor Marius ordered. “The operation will begin in one hour from now.”

“Yes, sir,” Roman said. “I look forward to it.”

The emperor’s face vanished. Roman looked at the empty display for a long moment, then brought up the data from the scoutships. Nova Athena hadn’t changed much since the last scout mission, seven months ago; the only real change was the appearance of three battle squadrons in orbit around the planet, along with an additional number of fortresses. Clearly, the locals had long-term plans for independence that might not have taken the Outsiders into consideration. But the data attached to each of the icons positively tagged the superdreadnaughts as having escaped Boston, after the trap had been sprung. It was quite likely they’d withdraw as soon as they saw the incoming fleet.

It would be hard to blame them
, Roman thought.
They’d be outgunned by my task force alone, unless they have something else up their sleeves
.

He tapped a switch, forwarding the operational plan to his ships. There was nothing particularly complex about it, thankfully; the fleets would drive on the planet, pinning the enemy starships against a target they had to defend. They might retreat – Roman was
sure
they would retreat – but that would leave the planet exposed. In that case, the fleet would pick its way through the fortresses until the planet surrendered. The only real problem with the plan, he decided, was the risk of accidentally striking the planet itself with missiles designed for ship-to-ship combat. The damage to the planet’s ecology would be severe.

Serves them right for not moving into space
, the old RockRat in him thought. Like most people who had been born on an asteroid, he’d never really cared for life on planets.
Planets are not safe
.

“Signal the fleet,” he ordered, after checking the timer. “We will advance in forty minutes.”

“Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Thompson said. “Under cloak?”

Roman had wondered about that, but the emperor’s plan didn’t call for using the cloaks. Instead, he wanted to make a stately procession that would allow the Outsiders plenty of time to see the force bearing down on them – and, if they had any sense at all, surrender before it was too late. The only downside was that it would give the superdreadnaughts far too much time to bring up their drives and escape, but one look at the data suggested that sneaking up on them was unlikely to work. There were so many sensors orbiting Nova Athena that it was unlikely a cloaked ship could escape detection.

We could still get a lot closer without being detected
, he thought.
But the emperor wants to give them plenty of time to see us coming
.

Roman shook his head. “No,” he said. Given how many active and passive sensors Nova Athena had scattered around the system, it was unlikely they would last longer than an hour before they were detected. “Let them see us coming.”

He settled back in his command chair and waited, impatiently, for the timer to count down to zero. In hopes of distracting himself, he reviewed the records of the emperor’s march to Yankee...and swiftly discovered something else that didn’t fit. The emperor had made four assaults through Asimov Points and, in all cases, had passed tactical command to one of his subordinates. There was no explanation attached to the records, but the more Roman thought about it, the more it bothered him. Marius Drake was not the sort of man to give up command, not willingly. And there was certainly no excuse for placing command in the hands of inexperienced officers, particularly ones who had been promoted more for being harmless than competent.

And what
, Roman asked himself silently,
is wrong with the emperor
?

“Admiral,” Lieutenant Thompson said. “The fleet is ready to depart.”

“Then bring up the drives and take us in,” Roman ordered. He made a bet with himself about when they would be detected, then pushed the thought aside. “Take us straight towards Nova Athena.”

* * *

Charlie started awake as klaxons echoed through the underground complex. “Alert, alert,” a robotic voice droned. “Enemy ships have been detected; I say again, enemy ships have been detected.”

Cursing, Charlie reached for the terminal and clicked it on. Red icons appeared at once, well away from Nova Athena. It would be seventeen hours – at least – before they arrived in orbit, he saw; they didn’t seem to be trying to hide their destination. But then, there could have been no real doubt, no matter how they feinted. The only real surprise was that the Federation fleet seemed to be operating as two separate units.

“Shut that bloody klaxon off,” he snapped, hitting his wristcom. There was no point in bringing the orbital defenses to full alert, not when it would be hours before the enemy ships entered firing range. The attackers probably hoped his crews would be exhausted by the time the battle began. “And then launch a spread of probes towards the bastards!”

He forced himself to calm down, then reached for his trousers and hastily pulled them over his pants. Sleeping in his underwear was an old habit, one he’d never quite lost. He cursed again as he pulled on his jacket, knowing all too well that he should go back to bed. But he wouldn’t be able to sleep, now he knew the enemy were on their way. The hammer was finally about to drop.

There was a tap at the door. “Commodore Thayne’s compliments, sir,” the young ensign said when he opened it, “and he has sent you coffee and ration bars.”

“How very kind of him,” Charlie growled, as he took the tray. Thayne had made it clear that
he
thought he should be in command of the defenses, even though he’d never seen a shot fired in anger in his life. Sending coffee and food was a clever little trick intended to keep Charlie out of the CIC for a while longer. “Tell him I’ll be down in the CIC in ten minutes.”

He swallowed half of the coffee in a single gulp – Nova Athena’s coffee was simply too sickly-sweet for his tastes – then took a bite of the ration bar. As always, it tasted suspiciously like cardboard. Sending him a ration bar was a non-too-subtle jab at his insistence that REMFs should share at least
some
of the hardships of the men and women on the front line. He rolled his eyes at the pettiness of people who had spent the war in peaceful billets, then sobered. Nova Athena was about to become the new front line.

Dropping the cup in the basket for washing, he strode out of his office and down towards the CIC. Armed men were everywhere, guarding every door, even though he knew it was pointless. Federation Marines were not about to drop out of nowhere and attack the hidden defense complex. As far as the Federation knew, the nerve center of the defenses was on a different continent, buried under the desert. They knew nothing about the
real
CIC, concealed under a giant mountain. The locals intended to keep the base operational even if they lost control of the high orbitals and had to submit to occupation.

“General,” Commodore Thayne said. He nodded towards the giant holographic display. “As you can see, we have a
situation
.”

“So we do,” Charlie said. He allowed his eye to wander over the consoles – and the pale-faced men and women manning them. They’d held regular drills, planning for everything from a minor raid to a major offensive, but the crews had never faced a real threat. Now, their homeworld was about to start fighting for its life. “And our status?”

Thayne looked annoyed at Charlie’s apparent unconcern. “We have eleven battle squadrons bearing down on us,” he said, sharply. “I think this is a major offensive.”

“You don’t say,” Charlie murmured. He reached out and clasped the other man’s shoulder before he could start spluttering in outrage. “There is no point in panicking, commodore, or in overreacting. The Federation will not be here for” – he glanced at the display, then quickly calculated the time difference – “fifteen hours, perhaps more. There is plenty of time to prepare our defenses.”

Charlie walked over to the command chair and sat down. “Contact Admiral Jalil,” he added. “I want him to stand by to activate Defense Plan Theta.”

Thayne’s mouth dropped open. “But...but that plan calls for them to retreat!”

“Yes,” Charlie agreed. For once, he understood the younger man’s outrage. The thought of retreating without firing more than a handful of shots was unpleasant, to say the least. “There is no choice.”

Charlie shrugged. “Given the disparity in firepower, commodore, there is nothing to be gained by keeping our superdreadnaughts tied to the planet. They will merely be destroyed, allowing the enemy to rip the rest of the system apart, if they desire. But it also calls for them to fire a long-range barrage at the enemy first, before leaving the system. That will give us time to prepare blows of our own.”

Thayne looked doubtful. “I hope you’re right,” he said. “This really doesn’t look good.”

“No,” Charlie agreed. “It doesn’t.”

He tapped a switch, then looked up at the display, silently calculating vectors. “Have your Alpha Crew get some rest, commodore,” he added. “The Beta and Delta Crews can man the stations for the next twelve hours.”

“Aye, sir,” Thayne said.

“And have them launch a spread of probes,” he added. “I want to make damn sure that nothing is trying to sneak up on us.”

Thayne frowned, his moustache twitching unpleasantly. “Do you think that’s a possibility?”

“They’re not even trying to hide their presence,” Charlie pointed out. Indeed, the Federation Navy didn’t seem to be using ECM, which would have made it harder to get an accurate count of their ships at such extreme range. “They may want us staring at them, commodore, which will blind us to the other threat. If, of course, there
is
another threat.”

Commodore Thayne scurried off, leaving Charlie to study the display and think. The sheer lack of concern for security the Federation Navy was showing was appalling; if his subordinates had revealed so much about themselves to civilian sensors, he would have beached them on the spot. His sensor crews were absolutely positive, he saw, that he was staring at the ships that had forced their way into both the Yankee and Salam systems, then started their journey across interstellar space. Somehow, they’d managed to carry out a two-prong offensive without the timing slipping or something going badly wrong.

It would be impressive
, he thought sourly,
if it wasn’t aimed at me
.

His display chimed. “Councilor,” he said, as Chang Li’s face appeared in the display. “You should board a ship. Get the hell out of here.”

“I won’t leave my people,” Chang Li said. “Whatever happens to them, General, I will endure it too.”

Charlie wished he was in her quarters, standing next to her. He could have knocked her out, then had her shipped to the superdreadnaughts and taken out of the system. There was something to be said for a politician who was prepared to stand with her people, but Chang Li simply knew too much about the Outsider Union to be allowed to fall into Federation hands, where she would be made to talk. There were ways to get around the implants, if necessary.

“You’ll be taken prisoner, then interrogated,” he said. “They certainly won’t
talk
with you.”

“I won’t let myself be taken,” Chang Li insisted. “General, I won’t leave. I’ll kill myself if there is no other choice.”