All for All, page 10
part #3 of Cast Adrift Series
The terminal filled slowly, the marines returning to duty after their brief leave. Wesley felt a strange mixture of envy and pity for the men who had homes and families on the planet. He hadn't seen his family since James Bond had departed months ago, heading back into deep space. Enemy space, probably. His father had hinted at all sorts of cloak and dagger missions, after Wesley had returned from capturing a Pashtali ship. Wesley still didn't know what the older man had had in mind.
He stood when the whistle blew, trying not to roll his eyes as they passed through yet another set of security checks. The spaceport crew seemed to think intruders could actually teleport into the complex ... no, he knew better than that. They were worried about the marines getting loaded onto the wrong shuttles or being left behind ... Wesley wondered, idly, what would happen if the shuttle loaded and departed while he was in the washroom. Who'd get in trouble for that?
Don't worry about it, he told himself. There'll be enough trouble to go around if that happens.
"Take your seat," Major Drache ordered. "We'll be departing shortly."
"Yes, sir," Wesley said.
He frowned. The older man looked as grim and unyielding as always. Wesley wondered, suddenly, if he'd taken any leave. Drache was the most controversial officer in the Solar Marines, a man who'd always be seen as having blood on his hands even though the inquest had proved otherwise. If he went out on the streets, he might be attacked - or worse.
And off to somewhere unknown, Wesley thought. Theta Sigma? He would bet his entire salary that story was a blatant lie. Where are we going? Deep into enemy space? Or where?
He smiled in anticipation. And what are we going to do when we get there?
Chapter Ten
ESS Dauntless, Sol System
"Admiral," Commander Olson said. "The last of the formations has checked into the command datanet, and all secure communications links are now established."
Naomi sat back in her chair. It had taken nearly a week of frantic effort to pull together the remainder of the fleet, then drill her officers in what to do if - when - the command network fell apart. The Alphans had sworn blind that their datanets couldn't be shattered by enemy action, something only marginally believable before it had actually happened during the Lupine Wars. Naomi wondered, at times, what it said about humanity's former masters that they'd refused to accept reality, even when it was slapping them across the face. How many warcruisers had been lost, in the early days of the war, because their crews weren't trained to fight alone?
Her eyes wandered to Observer Salix. The Alphan had been surprisingly - astonishingly - polite and restrained, even though he really had to be slumming it. He hadn't demanded servants, or better food, or anything beyond a seat in the CIC. Naomi was sure he knew their target was somewhere other than advertised, but he hadn't demanded to know where they were going either. It was odd. Either Observer Salix had gone native in a way that would horrify his peers - which might explain why he'd been given the job - or he was up to something.
Or maybe I'm just being paranoid, she thought. You should know better than to judge an entire species by a single member.
She sighed inwardly. Her old CO had been lazy. He'd been too lazy to be abusive or unpleasant or interfere with her running the ship, but ... it had been galling to know they'd been sitting on a powder keg and the lazy bastard hadn't even known it. They'd come far too close to an outright mutiny, with the underpaid and overworked junior crew seriously considering doing something stupid. And the asshole hadn't even bothered to say goodbye when he'd been ordered home ...
"Good," she said, leaning forward. "Run through a full system check."
"Aye, Admiral," Olson said.
Naomi studied the display, trying not to wince. On paper, it was impossible to identify the command ships, let alone target them for destruction. In practice, it was all too possible. The network was designed to be confusing and yet any half-decent tactical officer would be able to pick out the relay ships, blowing them away to cut the remainder of the fleet into a handful of isolated formations. She just didn't have the network capacity to turn every ship into a relay node, which meant losing a single relay ship risked losing every ship in that formation. She'd drilled her crews in what to do and yet ... she shook her head. There was no point in wishing for things she didn't have, not really.
If there was, I'd want an entire fleet of purpose-built warships, she mused. And then I could scrap half the wrecks in my fleet.
Her console bleeped. She glanced at the message - the final set of readiness reports had arrived - and then shrugged. Some of her captains had engaged in a little creative editing to make sure their ships weren't pulled from the line of battle, something for which - under better circumstances - she would have given them hell. Now, she needed every ship that could launch a missile or energise a beam ... and to hell with the risks. If the older ships died, and they would, they'd at least buy time for the newer vessels. They'd have a chance to hurt the enemy before it was too late.
"Signal Earth," she ordered. "Inform Solar Base we are ready to depart."
"Aye, Admiral," Olson said.
Naomi felt a stab of guilt. She'd left Admiral Morrigan and most of her staff behind, with orders to do what they could to churn out more weapons and ships before the fleet returned home. It was unlikely they could do much of anything, if the Pashtali came calling. The Alphan warcruisers would be the only thing standing between Earth and utter destruction, once the fleet was gone, and if they were withdrawn the planet was doomed. Admiral Morrigan wouldn't even be able to die bravely. Naomi cursed herself for leaving with the fleet, even though - again - there was no choice. They had to knock the Pashtali off balance before it was too late ...
Sure, her thoughts mocked. And if they manage to stay balanced, they'll throw Earth into the fire and then hunt down the remains of the fleet.
"Signal the fleet," she ordered. "We will depart as planned."
"Aye, Admiral," Olson said.
Naomi nodded, feeling the deck vibrate as Dauntless started to move. She felt a sudden twinge of loss as the icons on the display followed suit. She carefully didn't look at Observer Salix. The formation was only a formation by courtesy, the fleet looking more like a swarm of angry bees than a precise and elegant and perfectly balanced pattern. The warcruisers holding position near Earth were probably pointing and laughing, although they should know better. The Lupines had disdained precise formations and they'd still brought their enemies to the verge of total defeat.
We might have to copy their tactics, Naomi thought. If only we had the ships to do it.
She shuddered. Her ancestors had embraced suicidal tactics in desperation, crashing aircraft into wet-navy ships in hopes of buying their homeland a few more months of life, but the Lupines had taken it far - far - further. Their tiny ships hadn't seemed very dangerous, individually, yet they'd swarmed their targets and overwhelmed them through sheer weight of numbers. She hated to think about how many of the aliens had died in the opening battles of the war, but she had to admit it had been effective. They could replace their losses very quickly. The Alphans hadn't been able to replace a single warcruiser until well after the fighting was over. If they'd taken a few more losses, they'd have lost.
"Admiral," Olson said. "We will be entering multispace in five minutes. The far side is clear."
"Good." Naomi had fretted the Pashtali would try to mine the crossroads. It would be a waste of time under normal circumstances, as well as being flat-out illegal, but the fleet was so big it might be worth the effort. "Take us into the crossroads."
She felt her heart starting to race, again, as the crossroads started to loom on the display. It was hardly the first time she'd made transit - she'd been a spacer her entire adult life - and yet, she felt as if she was about to plunge into the unknown. Earth had deployed fleets before, but nothing so large ... she tried not to think about the prospect of running into a smaller yet far more advanced enemy fleet. She might win through sheer numbers, if she took a page from the Lupine tactical manuals, yet the cost would still be staggering. It felt as though they were making a mistake ...
Reality itself seemed to twist, a faintly queasy feeling passing through as they made transit. She knew it wasn't real, that it was a figment of her imagination, yet it felt as if she'd just stepped over a cliff. Multispace did that sometimes, a grim reminder it wasn't a safe place for matter-based intelligent life. The Alphans sneered at the idea that multispace might have intelligent life of its own, but there were stories ... she wondered, at times, if there was any truth in the tales. It didn't seem likely and yet she wondered. All spacers did.
"Admiral," Olson said. "The fleet has completed transit."
Naomi felt her lips thin in disapproval. The transit should have gone quicker. It wasn't as if they were in a bottleneck system, with only a handful of ships able to make transit at any given time. The fleet's coordination would need to be worked on, clearly. They could have moved a great deal faster, without risking a collision or interpenetration. It was something she'd have to handle later, after the fleet was underway. They had to make a clean break before they altered course or they'd be shadowed all the way to their target.
"Order the fleet to proceed as planned," she said. The ships knew what they had to do, now they were in multispace. "And drop decoys as we go."
"Aye, Admiral."
"The enemy sensors are good," Observer Salix said. Naomi almost jumped. She'd practically forgotten the alien was there. "Do you think you can hide from them?"
"It will be difficult," Naomi said, concealing her irritation. "Multispace provides a great deal of sensor cover, but the fleet is too large to hide within the eddies for long. If they do have someone watching us from a distance, they may get a solid lock on our position. The decoys will make that harder, though, and we're hoping we can confuse them long enough to make a clean break."
She studied the display. Realspace was flat, at least in its natural state. Multispace was so incredibly folded and twisted that it was quite possible for two fleets to be practically on top of each other, with neither side being aware the other was there. The distortions along the threadlines were so intense that there was no way to be sure a starship's sensors were reporting accurately ... and yet, with so many ships flying so close together, it was hard to believe they would remain concealed indefinitely. Observer Salix had a point. A lone scout, lying in the eddies, might just see them coming and signal ahead.
We'll see, she told herself. And even if they do spot us now, we'll be moving in the direction they expect. We won't head to Terminus until after we pass the RV point.
"Commander Olson, forward the updated reports to my office," she ordered, standing. "I'll review them this afternoon, then decide how best to proceed."
"Aye, Admiral."
Naomi had to remind herself to rest, as the days flew until they started to blur together. She no longer had to do clerical work- she was uneasily aware it was building up, awaiting her return - but there was no shortage of other things to do. The fleet held endless drills, the junior officers practicing their tactics while their seniors argued over how to proceed; the marines darted through the corridors, training on everything from boarding enemy ships to repelling enemy boarding parties. Naomi hoped and prayed, as the weeks wore on, that they were getting all their mistakes out of the way before they ran into a real enemy. Her simulations were as detailed as her programmers could make them, and she'd been careful to ensure that everything that could go wrong did, but a real enemy would be dangerously unpredictable. She felt her heart jump every time the display reported a possible enemy contact. If they knew she was on the way ...
They do, she told herself, sharply. There's no doubt about that. They just don't know where we're going.
"The crew is holding up well," Janet assured her, one evening. They'd met for dinner, then a chat. "I was worried, at first, but being underway has sorted out most of our problems."
"That's good to hear," Naomi said. She rather envied the junior officers and crew. They didn't have her rank, but they didn't have her responsibilities either. "Were there any real issues?"
"Nothing too great," Janet assured her. "A couple of stills ... one case of drunkenness, fortunately not when the idiot was on duty. They got a stern lecture and punishment duties, rather than the rope. I'll have to keep my eye on the engineer who put the still together, I think. He should have known better than to let the drinking get out of hand."
Naomi grimaced. No one had been able to keep naval crew from setting up stills and no one would try, as long as the operators were careful. If they got someone drunk ... whoever had set up this still had been very lucky the drunkard hadn't been on duty or they'd have been in real trouble. They'd be lucky if they were merely dishonourably discharged without hope of reference.
"Also, one fight for no apparent reason," Janet said. Her lips twisted in dismay. "Both parties are on punishment duties too."
"Good." Naomi frowned, inwardly. If everyone was keeping their mouths firmly closed ... something sexual? Or gambling? Or just one of those stupid fights started by someone saying the wrong thing? The crew were crammed into tiny compartments, with barely enough room to swing a cat. No matter how hard the officers and chiefs tried to distract them, there would be tension and sometimes that tension would lead to fights. "I ..."
She stopped herself. Dauntless was no longer her ship. Hell, technically, Janet should leave such matters to her XO unless they really got out of control. "I think we're working out the kinks now."
"I think so too," Janet said. She took a sip of her tea. "Where are we really going?"
"We'll get to the RV point first," Naomi said. She wasn't surprised by the question. If there was anyone who really believed the official story, they were keeping very quiet about it. "And then we'll alter course."
Janet smiled. "You still can't tell me?"
Naomi grimaced. She trusted Janet and yet ... she knew better than to break security regulations, even though the fleet was safely underway. It wasn't a matter of trust. Janet couldn't tell anyone, not now. And yet ... she understood the reasoning behind the rules. The more people who knew the truth, the greater the chance something would leak and reach the wrong side of ears.
And we don't want to risk even the slightest chance of being detected before we reach our target, she thought. If they know we're coming ...
She put the matter aside as the voyage continued. The universe seemed to shrink until it was no larger than her cabin, the CIC and a handful of other compartments. She forced herself to walk the decks, making a point to speak to the officers and crew even though it was technically against regulations. Some of them had been under her command, when the cruiser had been her ship; some were newcomers, learning the ropes from older and wiser hands. It felt wrong not to know their names. She'd known everyone on Washington, her first command ...
But that was when the universe was a far simpler place and I was the XO, she thought. It was standard procedure for XOs to switch ships when they were promoted to command, although her career suggested otherwise. Janet's too, come to think of it. It isn't so easy now.
The thought haunted her as the fleet neared the RV point. If something had gone wrong ... she'd had plans drawn up to cover every imaginable contingency, yet she was afraid of the unimaginable. Commodore Valentine and his flotilla might have lost control of their ships, or run into an enemy fleet that had blown them to dust, or ... she breathed a sigh of relief as they emerged from the threadline and saw the captured warships, waiting for them. They'd made it! She waited until the IFF codes were checked and rechecked - she'd been all too aware the Pashtali would have no trouble operating their own ships, if they recaptured them - and then allowed herself to relax. The first stage of the plan had gone off without a hitch.
"Signal to all ships," she ordered. "The first set of sealed orders are now to be opened, then implemented."
"Aye, Admiral," Olson said.
Observer Salix caught her eye. "Did you give all the ships the same orders?"
"Not quite," Naomi said. The majority of the fleet would proceed to the second RV point, taking a course that should keep them well off the beaten track. It wouldn't be easy to avoid detection, but as long as the formation was carefully spaced out it was unlikely anyone would see all the ships. "A couple of ships have specific missions."
Observer Salix cocked his head. "And they are?"
"They're going to transmit a message for me," Naomi said, vaguely. She didn't want to discuss the rest of the plan. She had a rough idea of what she wanted to do, when she reached Terminus, but she needed up to date information. They'd been out of touch for nearly a month. Anything could have happened, anything at all. "And then they'll link up with us again."
She leaned back in her chair. The first set of sealed orders weren't too clear - beyond the coordinates of the second RV point - but her commanders were an intelligent bunch. They'd note the coordinates, take a look at a starchart and guess the final destination. She would be surprised if they didn't. They'd certainly have plenty of time to familiarise themselves with the intelligence reports, then work out what she had in mind. There was no point in keeping the secret any longer.
"The fleet is acknowledging, Admiral," Olson reported. There was a wealth of curiosity in his tone, carefully hidden. "They're ready to depart."
"Good," Naomi said. She came to a decision. "Once we're underway, I'll hold a holoconference. All captains and commodores are invited, no excuses. We'll discuss the plans, then move on from there."
"Aye, Admiral."
