The Shadow of Cincinnatus (49 page)

“Go,” Charlie urged. “You can’t do any good here.”

Chang Li shook her head. “What are our chances of victory?”

“Lousy,” Charlie admitted, after activating the privacy field. He doubted any of the crew manning their consoles thought there was any real chance of victory, but it would hurt morale to hear their CO say it out loud. “They have enough firepower to smash our mobile units, then punch their way through the fortresses. I’ve got one idea in mind, but it may not be activated in time to save us.”

And they may not fall for it
, he added, in the privacy of his own mind.
The Federation Navy has plenty of tricky officers now, after nine years of near-constant war
.

He met her almond eyes. “You need to go,” he urged. “Please.”

“I have to stay,” she said. “The Outsiders will carry on without me.”

“I hope you’re right,” Charlie said.

He ran through his options, quickly. Did he have time to send troops to seize Chang Li, then put her on a starship? Yes, he did. She’d hate him, afterwards, not without reason. He might well not survive...no, that was a joke. Given the sheer size of the fleet bearing down on Nova Athena, he was either about to die or be taken prisoner. And, as he knew too much himself, suicide would be his only reasonable option.

“Good luck, Councilor,” he said.

Her face flickered out of existence. Charlie sighed inwardly, then keyed a switch. There was one unit of experienced soldiers near the capital, helping with crowd control. They would have to do the mission, then leave the system. There was no other option. Without Chang Li, the Outsider Federation might fall apart. And that would be the end of the war.

He switched channels and linked into the starfighter command. “I want you ready to deliver a long-range attack,” he ordered. There were no carriers in the system, unfortunately, but the fortresses still carried their regular complement of starfighters. They’d been lucky that the pilots hadn’t been redeployed to fill empty carriers, after Boston. “The gunboats are to move up in support.”

“Aye, sir,” the planetary CAG said. “Do you wish us to coordinate our moves with the superdreadnaughts?”

“Yes,” Charlie ordered. He did his best to sound confident. “Give them a bloody nose.”

He shook his head as he closed the channel. There was no way to avoid one simple fact, not when the Federation Navy had superior firepower and numbers – and, perhaps, the iron determination to end the war.

Most – perhaps all – of the pilots were about to die.

* * *

“The general wants us to do
what
?”

Roebuck looked stunned. Uzi, who had received more morally-questionable orders in his life than he cared to remember, felt almost as stunned as his nominal superior looked. He’d been ordered to assassinate terrorist leaders, massacre innocent prisoners, train insurgent groups so they could be squashed once they showed themselves and carry out fake attacks on Federation interests, but he’d never been ordered to stun a politician and carry her out of the firing line...

He smiled to himself as Roebuck started to issue orders, then checked the download. The superdreadnaughts would be leaving orbit in two hours, giving the troops more than enough time to secure the prisoner...no, the politician. There was something about the way those words went together that made him smile again. They could take Chang Li easily enough – they had codes that would get them into Government House – and then transport her to a shuttle. And then...

There would be plenty of opportunities for sabotage then, he was sure. And, once the Federation Navy arrived, he could go home.

Long-range engagements are, almost always, inconclusive
.

-The Federation Navy in Retrospect, 4199

Nova Athena, 4101

“Their superdreadnaughts are leaving orbit,” Commander Lewis reported.

“I can see that,” Marius growled.
This
was one operation he couldn’t leave to his subordinates, even if Roman Garibaldi held tactical command. The various commanding officers had bickered – they thought he didn’t know – over which one of them was favored. “Project their course for me, then add in known and suspected missile range engagement envelopes.”

He studied the display as the icons appeared in front of him. The enemy fleet wasn’t heading directly for Task Force 5.1, but it would pass through extreme engagement range before heading away from both formations. Marius juggled the vectors in his head, then decided the enemy fleet intended to merely fire a single barrage before nipping back out of range and running for its life. Not a bad tactic, he noted, if rather cowardly. It was heartening in a way, he decided, as he turned his attention back to Nova Athena. It suggested the Outsiders were becoming alarmingly sensitized to losses.

“Place us in backstop position,” he ordered, after a moment’s thought. The Outsiders would be unable to engage Task Force 5.1 without running the risk of entering Task Force 5.2’s missile range. With a little bit of luck, all three battle squadrons would be smashed before they could escape. “And prime starfighters for launch on command.”

He settled back in his chair, forcing himself to think clearly. “Belay that command,” he added. It had been poorly thought out. “I want the starfighters primed when the enemy fleet is twenty minutes away.”

“Aye, sir,” Commander Lewis said.

She’d been very good to him, Marius knew, even though he’d snapped at her more than once. He’d forbidden her from talking to the ship’s doctor, but she’d provided cushions, comfort and almost everything else he needed to keep going. The headaches had faded for a while, then returned as they made the long trek from Yankee to Nova Athena. He was more determined than ever to complete the battle, then hopefully bring the war to an end. Part of him was honestly not sure how much time he had left.

His head swam at the thought. Somehow, he managed to force himself to sit upright and remain calm.

There was a bleep from the display. The enemy fleet had altered course. And reduced speed. Marius frowned, then watched as the tactical computers updated their predictions; this time, the enemy fleet looked ready to brush up against Task Force 5.2, rather than Task Force 5.1. Marius smirked to himself, even though he knew it would make it harder for them to return fire before the enemy scampered out of range. Forcing the enemy to react to one’s tactics was the first step in taking the initiative for one’s self.

“We will continue on our present course,” he said. The enemy could stall for three hours, at most. Then they would have to decide if they wished to break contact or fight and die with the planet itself. Marius was expecting the former. “And hold our course and speed.”

He smiled, darkly. The last few hours had seen sensor probes, civilian freighters and even a handful of scoutships moving towards the fleet, peering towards its hulls with active sensors. They’d all been destroyed; Marius honestly wasn’t sure why they’d bothered. The fleet wasn’t trying to hide anything; indeed, Marius was hoping that the sight of eleven battle squadrons bearing down on their planet would convince the Outsiders to surrender.

And if it doesn’t
, he thought darkly,
there will always be the violent option
.

* * *

“What happened?”

“We lost power,” Sanderson said. He was the most experienced soldier in the troop, save for Uzi himself. “The main power core just went offline.”

Uzi concealed his amusement as he made a show of checking the diagnostics. “The primary power core failed,” he said. There hadn’t been much time to run pre-flight checks on the shuttle, which was partly why his little piece of sabotage had worked so perfectly. “The log says it was replaced, but I think someone in maintenance must have pocketed the new unit and left the old one in place.”

“Fuck,” Roebuck swore, as the artificial gravity gave out and they started to drift into the air. “What the hell do we do?”

“The emergency beacon should be working,” Sanderson said. “But I’m not picking up any feedback from the signal.”

“Someone must have been playing games,” Uzi growled. “Did we pick a shuttle that was due to be scrapped or something?”

“It was listed as being ready to fly,” Sanderson snapped back. “And the flight checks we did revealed no problems!”

Uzi cursed, mentally. Sanderson was the most experienced officer in the unit, save for Uzi himself. There were few officers who would have thought to check the emergency beacon was actually working – the units were damn near indestructible, and kept separate from the rest of the shuttle’s systems – but Sanderson had thought of it. Losing the main power core might have seemed a stroke of bad luck, aided and abetted by a maintenance tech with wandering hands and low morals; losing the emergency beacon was something else entirely.

“There’s no point in snapping at each other now,” Uzi said. In some ways, the current situation was ideal. If the Federation won the battle, he could deal with his former comrades and then send a signal, requesting pick-up. But, if the Federation lost, he had an excuse for failing to take Chang Li out of the system. “All we can do is wait and see who wins the coming battle.”

“We need to send an emergency signal,” Sanderson insisted. “We’re not
that
far from the planet.”

Uzi shrugged. The shuttle had intended to catch up with Admiral Jalil, then transfer their ‘cargo’ into his custody. Judging by the look on Chang Li’s face before they’d stunned her, it wasn’t something he envied the Admiral. But now...they were heading out into space, largely powerless, almost completely undetectable. It wasn’t the best of situations, but it definitely had potential.

“That would be risky,” he said. “A distress beacon is one thing, but sending out a random signal? One side or the other might mistake the shuttle for a weapon and blow us out of space. No, better to stay where we are.”

Sanderson snorted. “And run out of oxygen? The life support system is fucked too.”

“There’s enough in the tanks to keep us alive for several hours,” Uzi assured him. It was true, too. “Once we know who’s won the battle, sir, we can make contact with them and arrange pick-up.”

“The Federation cannot be allowed to have her,” Sanderson said, nodding towards the stunned form of Chang Li. “You know that.”

“Then we decide what to do with her if the Federation wins,” Uzi said. Sanderson was definitely impressive. It was just a shame he was on the wrong side. “All we can do now is sit here and wait.”

* * *

“Long range probes are picking up traces of enemy starfighter launches,” Lieutenant Thompson reported. “And the enemy superdreadnaughts are altering course again.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Roman asked himself. The enemy superdreadnaughts had altered their course several times, trying to make it harder for the Federation to guess when they intended to enter engagement range. Roman hadn’t been too impressed, after the first two times they’d tried to confuse him. There would be ample warning of any attack. “Are they trying to coordinate an attack?”

“It looks that way,” Thompson said. “I assume the starfighters have extended life support packs.”

“They’d need them,” Roman said, as the swarm flickered up on the main display. “Pass the word to the CAG. I want our starfighters out there when the enemy ships are ten minutes away.”

He frowned as the probes added more detail to the display. It wasn’t just starfighters out there, but a wave of gunboats and even small shuttles. Did the Outsiders plan to try to
board
his ships? It didn’t seem too likely; they had to know, right now, that his crews were armed and Marines were stationed on every deck. But suicide strikes seemed quite plausible. One could fit a great deal of antimatter on a shuttle...

“And warn him that those shuttles might be suicide runners,” he added. “The starfighters should attempt to engage from long distance.”

“Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Thompson said.

Roman braced himself as a tidal wave of small craft roared down on his fleet. His own starfighters spread out to engage, picking off enemy craft as they approached...and rapidly proving that he was right and the shuttles
did
intend to ram his vessels. Every time one of them was hit, the antimatter stored in their cargo bays met matter and they vanished in colossal explosions. Three of them made it through the point defense network, despite its best efforts, and slammed into their targets.

“
Bombardment
and
Thunder
have been destroyed,” Lieutenant Thompson said. “
Falcon
is intact, but she’s taken terrible damage and is falling out of formation. Midshipman Harness has assumed command.”

Roman swore. A
midshipman
had taken command? Just how many casualties had the giant superdreadnaught taken? Or, perhaps, the midshipman was the only person in a position to assume command. There was no way to know, not right now.

“Order him to set course for the RV point,” Roman said.
Falcon
couldn’t keep up with the fleet...leaving her on her own was risky, but there were still few ships in the system that could take on a superdreadnaught, no matter how badly crippled. “And tell him I want a full report once he’s put some distance between his ship and the battle.”

He gritted his teeth as the starfighters lunged into their targets, then fell back towards the planet, just in time for the enemy superdreadnaughts to open fire. Thankfully, they’d fired at extreme range – the fleet promptly altered course to widen the range still further – but it was still a major headache. The missiles roared towards his ships and just kept coming, no matter how much firepower the point defense weapons spewed out. They were just lucky that the enemy had messed up the timing, if only slightly. It could have been a great deal worse.

Three more ships damaged
, he thought, as the last missile slammed into a superdreadnaught and exploded.
It definitely could have been worse
.