Democracy's Might

Chapter Fifteen

Admiral Ravi Lanai knew that she was not a great leader.

It wasn’t something that bothered her, normally. She’d been an administrator for far longer than she’d been a starship officer, let alone a commander. Her patronage links had helped her to reach Tyson, where she’d found herself beholden to five different families rather than just one. It gave her an unusual freedom of action, but it also forced her to try to keep the balance between the families.

Tyson wasn’t actually a bad place to live or work. The system hadn’t originally been considered for a naval base — the files stated that Tyson was the only system in the sector that could reasonably serve as base, but Ravi suspected that someone had paid huge bribes to get the bureaucrats to agree — and much of the population was civilian. The combination of civilian presence and multiple aristocratic families created an odd dynamic, one that gave more freedom to the inhabitants than they could expect anywhere else. And Ravi, the CO of the system’s defences, rather enjoyed it. She didn’t have to bow and scrape to enjoy her position and the authority that came with it.

But the rebellion had upended all of her plans. If someone drew a line between Earth and Camelot, Tyson would be on that line — or at least close enough to make reducing the base a rebel priority. Ravi had watched in dismay as hundreds of senior administrators bugged out, taking their servants and slaves with them, while leaving her with orders to hold the planet as long as possible. They had clearly lacked any faith in her ability to hold the line. Not that Ravi could really blame them, to be fair. It had been decades since she had set foot on the command deck of a starship.

She’d half-expected the blow to fall instantly, even though cold logic told her that it was unlikely. Three months had passed since the Battle of Camelot, giving her time to prepare — although she was grimly aware that, lacking any superdreadnaught element, she could only bleed the rebels as they attacked the system. She’d also deployed a handful of smaller ships in nearby systems, some of which had reported the rebels flickering in, devastating the defences and then flickering out again. For once, Ravi was actually grateful that the administrators had recalled urgent business on the other side of the Empire. If they’d been on Tyson, watching as nearby investments were blown into fragments, they would have pestered her to send ships to defend them. But against the sheer weight of rebel firepower, it would be suicidal…

Unlike some officers she could mention, she had never seen the urge to fill her quarters with servants and pleasure slaves. Sleeping alone was one of her great pleasures and she wanted to enjoy it, even if she knew the rebels were steadily advancing towards her position. She was tucked up in bed, half-asleep, when the alarm sounded, followed by the voice of her XO calling her to the command centre. Ravi snapped awake, silently thankful for her habit of sleeping in her underwear, then grabbed her trousers and jacket and pulled them on. She would look dishevelled, she knew, but it hardly mattered. She’d met too many officers who focused on spit and polish at the expense of fighting. No doubt one of them would have sniffed at her looks, if he had been on the command deck.

She stepped through the hatch and onto the command deck, ignoring the Marine’s salute as she stared at the display. A handful of red icons had appeared, several million kilometres from the outer edge of engagement range. She didn’t need more than a moment to identify the ships as rebel, even though they were Imperial Navy designs. The drive fields were very definitely ships that were known to have fallen into rebel hands.

“Admiral,” her XO said. “I’ve sounded battlestations; the entire defence network is coming online…”

“Good,” Ravi said, when he had finished. At least the rebels were giving them time to prepare, although it was odd. Did they think they could bluff her into surrendering? Some of the reports from her spy ships had suggested just that, although none of the other targeted systems had been so heavily defended. “Launch one courier boat to Morrison, then send two more out under stealth. I want them to have a full report of what happens next.”

“Understood, Admiral,” the XO said. “I’ll see to it at once.”

Ravi settled back in her command chair as the rebels altered course, slowly manoeuvring towards the planet. It was odd; they could have moved quicker, particularly if they wanted to catch her on the hoof. Or were they confident that they could still take the defences, even though she had plenty of time to prepare? Or did they have a secret weapon up their sleeves?

Her lips quirked. Used properly, the arsenal ships could inflict terrifying damage on her defences… and they were no secret, not any longer.

“I’m picking up a message, Admiral,” the communications officer said. “They’re beaming it all over the system.”

“Let’s hear it,” Ravi said.

The communications officer tapped a switch. “…Is Admiral Walker of the Shadow Fleet, representing the Popular Front. You are outnumbered and outgunned. Surrender your installations now and we pledge that no harm will come to you. Those of you who wish to return to the Empire will be permitted to do so, those of you who wish to remain neutral will be shipped to a comfortable holding camp where you can wait out the conflict. Any of you who wish to join us will be welcome. You have thirty minutes to decide.”

Ravi’s eyes narrowed. Thirty minutes was uncommonly generous, all the more so as she would have ample time to prepare for war. Her starships were already forming up near the fortresses, linking their point defence systems into the far wider network of automated platforms she’d rushed into deployment. If they did choose to throw a missile swarm at her, she was confident she could weaken it long before the missiles slammed into their targets.

“No reply,” she ordered, as the enemy fleet slowed to a halt, relative to Tyson itself. “Keep deploying ECM drones and other countermeasures.”

Colin wasn’t looking forward to coming to grips with Tyson’s defences. They were tougher than pre-war data had suggested, while the enemy CO had scattered countless automated platforms in orbit around the planet. If it wasn’t for the shipyard and industrial nodes — and the starships, of course — he would have simply bypassed the planet altogether. Instead, he had to destroy its ability to impede his operations.

Devious bastard, he thought, wondering just who was in command of the defences. The intelligence probes hadn’t been able to answer that question. We can’t leave you alone and you can gnaw us properly while we’re smashing you into rubble.

“No response, sir,” the communications officer said.

Colin scowled. Most of the defenders who had surrendered without firing a shot had known they were badly outgunned — and that their superiors had abandoned them. Whoever was in charge of Tyson was clearly made of different mettle. He or she had had the wit to organise a defence, using all the resources built up in the system. Colin had no doubt that his forces could destroy the defences, followed rapidly by the industrial nodes if they couldn’t be taken intact, but it would be costly.

“Repeat the message,” he ordered. “And then we’ll let them have their thirty minutes.”

It was possible, he told himself, that there were mutineers on the stations, just waiting for a chance to take control. But somehow he doubted it. The enemy CO wouldn’t have overlooked such an obvious possibility, even though Tyson was hardly a hardship posting. There would be Marines on the stations, holding them against all comers. No, he couldn’t count on anything, but brute force.

He watched the timer ticking down to zero as his fleet settled into formation. It did give the sensor staff time to locate every last automated platform, he decided, but there were few other advantages. If he couldn’t intimidate the enemy commander into surrendering…

“The timer has reached zero, sir,” the tactical officer said.

Colin gave him a sharp look, then nodded. “Take us forward,” he ordered. They’d planned the attack out time and time again, yet no battle plan ever survived contact with the enemy. He would just have to hope that he was the equal of whoever was in command on the other side. “And prepare to open fire as soon as we reach missile range.”

There was one great advantage to attacking fortresses, he reminded himself as the fleet started to inch forwards, locking weapons on targets. They couldn’t run and they couldn’t hide. And, by keeping the starships down in the gravity shadow, the enemy commander had ensured that they couldn’t run either. If nothing else, the first barrage would inflict considerable damage on defenders who couldn’t really fire back without knowing Colin’s fleet could evade their missiles.

“Entering missile range, sir,” the tactical officer said. “Missiles locked, ready to fire; defence grid armed, ready to fire.”

“Fire,” Colin ordered.

General Montgomery shuddered as she unleashed her external racks, followed rapidly by her missile tubes. Thousands of missiles blazed out into space, followed rapidly by missiles from the other superdreadnaughts and the arsenal ships. It was a colossal sledgehammer, almost irresistible… and the enemy defenders would have plenty of time to see it coming. They just wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, Colin hoped. But they’d also had plenty of warning about the arsenal ships.

He kept one eye on the live feed from the missiles as the enemy fortresses began to fire back, expending their own external racks. The Geeks had vastly improved the seeker heads used by the missiles, ensuring that their accuracy was better and they could even select a new target if their first one was destroyed before they struck home. They hadn’t yet solved the problem of extending powered flight, but Salgak had promised that it would be solved, sooner or later. Now they had access to the vast resources the Roosevelt Family had moved to Sector 117, the Geeks had grand plans for the future.

Assuming they survive, Colin thought, coldly. There was something odd about the enemy missiles, something that nagged at his mind. It struck him a moment later; they’d emptied their external racks, but they hadn’t fired their missile tubes. Why? They’d know better than to withhold the external racks — a single direct hit could wipe out the missiles before they were even fired — yet they should have fired their inner tubes too. It made no sense.

Ravi had to fight down an urge to panic as she saw the sheer weight of missiles powering their way towards her fortresses. There were so many missiles that even the most advantaged tactical sensors in the Empire had real problems separating one from another, something that would make it harder to target her point defence on specific missiles. But she did have her planned countermeasure, as well as her enhanced point defence. It probably wouldn’t work twice, she told herself, but it would give her a fighting chance.

“Fire the external racks,” she ordered, quietly.

She felt a moment of pride in her crew as they responded, despite the wall of death advancing towards them. No one had seen such a missile swarm outside a particularly sadistic training simulation, not until the rebels had started deploying their arsenal ships. It was a pitifully simple concept, in hindsight, one the Empire could duplicate within weeks… if it had seen any need to do so. Ravi rather suspected that the limitations of the design would eventually bring it down, or at least force it to be replaced by a more specialised starship, but for the moment it gave the rebels an advantage.

But it wasn’t a decisive advantage…

She bit her lip as her missiles advanced towards the enemy swarm. The odds of a collision were low, although it had been known to happen when there were hundreds of thousands of missiles in the same general area of space. But now…

“Missiles spreading out,” the tactical officer reported. “Twenty seconds to optimal detonation range.”

“Detonate the missiles at the best moment,” Ravi ordered. She wished, absurdly, that she was religious. It would have been nice to know that God was on her side. “Don’t wait for orders, just do it.”

The missiles closed — and her missiles began to detonate. She’d actually redesigned the standard nuclear warheads; instead of laser heads or focused detonations, designed to break down shields, the warheads were intended to create as wide a blast as possible. It would have been useless — worse than useless — against a starship’s shields, but missiles had no shields.

“All missiles detonated,” the tactical officer reported. “We blew holes in their formation.”

Ravi smiled. “Warn the point defence crews to stand by,” she ordered. “There’s still thousands of missiles out there.”

“Sir, they took out a third of the missiles!”

“I see,” Colin said. “Launch a second barrage, but reprogram the missiles to stay further away from each other.”

He felt a glimmer of respect for the enemy commander. Who in their right mind would have constructed missiles that were useless against shields? Whoever was on the other side was smart enough to see the possibilities and high-ranking enough to push her idea through, even against opposition. And there would have been opposition. After all, the Imperial Navy wouldn’t be keen on innovation in the middle of wartime. They’d have to get over that attitude if they wanted to win.

“Aye, sir,” the tactical officer said. There was a pause, then the entire ship shuddered again. “Missiles away.”

Colin nodded, then settled back in his command chair. The only thing they could do now was press the enemy as hard as they could — and hope they killed the enemy commander. He disliked the thought of targeting someone personally because they were a devious bastard, but there was no choice. Superior firepower combined with superior tactical skill would give the enemy a dangerous advantage.

Pity you’re not on our side, he thought, addressing the holographic image of the enemy defences. I would love to have someone like you with us.

Ravi watched, as dispassionately as she could, as the remaining enemy missiles charged into the teeth of her point defence fire. Someone had been thinking on the other side too, she noted, as the missiles retargeted themselves in flight, falling on the starships that mounted additional point defence. Normally, the missiles were programmed to go after superdreadnaughts and orbital fortresses first, leaving the smaller ships and platforms untouched. This time, the missiles were stripping the point defence from her units first, before turning on the bigger facilities. Given the sheer size of enemy throw weights, she had to admit that it was a good tactic.

One by one, her starship icons flared red and disappeared. None of them were designed to stand up to such firepower. Even a superdreadnaught would have been overwhelmed and destroyed. The automated platforms were also taking a beating, but she wasn’t so worried about that. They were expendable, easy to replace — and every missile they soaked up was one that wouldn’t go after a manned starship or defence unit.

“Incoming missiles,” the tactical officer said, quietly. The station went to full alert, switching its point defence weapons back to self-defence. Ravi made a mental note to alter the programming, if they survived long enough to make the changes. Protecting smaller ships went against the grain, but it might be necessary if the rebels kept building arsenal ships. “Twenty seconds to impact.”

“All hands brace for impact,” the XO snapped. Alarms howled, warning the crew to grab hold of something before the missiles struck home. Even if the shields remained intact, the shockwaves would shake the entire station. “I say again, all hands…”

The station rocked violently as the missiles slammed against its shields. Ravi noted, forcing her mind to remain focused, that the rebels had either managed to increase the warhead yields or concentrate them into smaller and smaller shield components. Red lights flashed up on the status display, warning her that several shield generators had burned out, creating a gap in the shields. Moments later, the station rocked again as a missile made it through the gap and slammed right into the hull.

“Major damage to sectors Theta-Rho-343,” the systems officer reported. Somehow, he managed to remain calm, even though the destruction could easily prove lethal. The fortress could soak up a great deal of damage, but there were limits. “Damage control parties are on their way.”

“Swing the shield generators around,” the XO ordered, his voice urgent and harsh. “Get that gap sealed before more missiles get through the defences!”

Ravi gritted her teeth as the second enemy missile barrage advanced towards the remains of her point defence network. They’d blunted the enemy attack, she knew, or they would have been annihilated by the first missile swarm. And yet it hadn’t been enough.

She considered, briefly, surrendering her command. She’d fought — no one could deny she’d fought — and she’d certainly embarrassed the enemy. But it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t surrender if the enemy hadn’t taken any damage, apart from to their pride. There were Imperial Navy officers who would have regarded that as a fatal wound, but the rebels were probably made of sterner stuff.

“General signal,” she ordered. “All stations are to target the enemy ships and go to rapid fire.”

She smiled to herself as the fortresses started to open fire in earnest. This time, at least, the rebels would know that they had been kissed. And if they wanted to jump away, she would have time to rebuild her defences.

All right, you bastard, she thought, feeling an odd burst of self-satisfaction. What else do you have up your sleeve?