Extremis (62 page)

Narrok sent (permission). “I would not delay you in your duties, Communications Prime. What message?”

“Update from Mercury, sir…well, actually from Athena.”

So: his units had been driven out of Mercury and back to Athena. That suggested the human flotilla was every bit as large as early estimates had indicated. Furthermore, since a full-sized fleet could not have remained hidden in the Trebuchet Trace, this news indicated that Unshezh had been right regarding its origins and the humans’ ability to alter a warp point. “I will assimilate the message now, Prime.”

“Yes, sir.”

And Narrok immersed himself in the streaming data, which took him about ten seconds to absorb.

It told him what he had already surmised: those forces of his that had sortied into Mercury from Athena had been lost. Significantly, no Arduan response had been noted coming into Mercury from Treadway, which meant that the commander there—Fleet Second Nejfel, who oversaw the task-force monitoring and preventing any further Tangri incursions—was mulling over the situation and his options. And whatever course of action the fleet second ultimately chose, Narrok felt that Nejfel, above all the other commanders he had been compelled to scatter along the various highways and byways of the Arm, would understand that his objective was not to inflict damage, or to display ferocity, or to repel the attackers.

It was to buy time.

Because having too few hours,
thought Narrok as he looked at the warp-point matrix in his holotank,
will be far more deadly to us than having too few ships.
He looked at the links and calculated: he had less than two days to get there.

Of course, Torhok would be on his way up the Arm, presumably bringing the main Fleet reserves from New Ardu. Given the smaller number of warp points he had to traverse to reach Charlotte—only three—Torhok had every apparent reason to arrive first. But a fleet already in the field—such as Narrok’s—was poised and ready for response in any direction. By contrast, a home fleet at its moorings was a creature much slower to stir. At least, Narrok consoled himself, Torhok was more astute at grand strategy than operations or tactics: he would understand the need to reach Charlotte with all possible alacrity.

And perhaps he would even remember to thank Narrok for being the voice that insisted on sowing minefields in the Arm’s various choke points and preparing a new surprise for any human—or Tangri—thrusts toward New Ardu. Yes, Torhok might remember that Narrok had been the architect of these plans—

But he probably wouldn’t admit it, even if he did.

TRNS
Taconic
, Allied Fleet, Mercury System

Admiral Li Han checked the ops clock: twelve minutes remaining before it ticked down to the row of zeroes that meant Second had been reached. She looked around the main plot of her chart room; fourteen holograms of her senior officers stared down at the holographic specks and icons that depicted the Fleet’s current—and coming—dispositions. “Any questions?”

Li Han waited for the two-way transit time to elapse. When it had, there was still silence. “Very well, then. Fleet Operations Officer Rijksdottir, your final update, please.”

A tall woman with olive-toned skin and startling red hair rose and surveyed the ghostly simulacra of the Fleet’s senior officers. “Sirs, the tankers, tenders, and ammunition carriers of our supply train have all reached their groupment point, here.” She indicated a dense cluster of small green icons slightly above and beyond the Desai limit on the side of the system opposite the warp point to Athena. “They are currently configuring their formation to establish what will be the equivalent of a semi-mobile depot and refit base for supporting operations farther down the Arm. It has been positioned farthest from the Athena warp point to provide maximum warning and withdrawal time in the event any counterattacking forces manage to reenter the Mercury system.”

“That presumes the threat from Treadway is less imminent,” observed Captain Tanner, whose ship, the DT TRNS
Fionna MacTaggart
, was only two light-seconds away.

Fleet Ops shrugged. “We have no means of assessing that risk, Captain. Our holding force—Combat Group Sierra—is too low on drones to mount a good recon effort. They are simply tasked with contesting and delaying an intrusion. We have other forces in reserve for repelling any such counterattack.”

“What forces are those?” asked Tanner.

At a nod from Li Han, the tall woman sat and a short, stubby man—dark of skin, hair, and eye—rose. Li Han invited his answer with a graceful gesture. “Fleet Tactical Officer Sarimanok?”

Sarimanok pointed to a dense cluster of larger green icons positioned above the vertical arc of the Desai limit halfway between the supply train and the bright sphere representing the system’s star. “This, for lack of a better term, is our all-purpose reserve. With the exception of one DT, it is comprised of our older, slower craft—predominantly MTs and BBs that are two or more marks out of date. In their current position, they have equal response times to either support the assault into Athena or prevent a serious incursion from Treadway. What they lack in speed and technological recency, they make up for in numbers, armor, and firepower.

“The assault into Athena itself is the next step on our march to the warp point linking Demeter to Charlotte. Unfortunately, it’s going to be a hard-fought step. Advance recon indicates defender forces of almost 140 SDHs in the Athena system. We are also detecting minefields, which the Baldies have shown no tendency to employ before now. Our attack into Athena will begin with a sustained barrage of SBMHAWKs, followed closely by a rapid sequence of AMBAMMs. We will lead with a number of DTs to absorb the first wave of defensive fire. We anticipate considerable damage, but no immediate Code Omegas.” Sarimanok sat abruptly.

Li Han rose and looked at the ops clock. Eight minutes left. “Thank you. Gentlemen, ladies: stand to your cons.” One after the other, the hologhosts snapped salutes and disappeared. Within thirty seconds, the chart room was quiet, empty, unhaunted by the spectres who were soon to carry flame and death to the enemy.

Arduan SDH
Nelsef’s’hed’rem
, Tangri Containment Task Force of the
Anaht’doh Kainat
, Treadway System

Fleet Second Nejfel considered the battle recording as it unfolded in both his holopod and over his
selnarm
link. Unshezh’s vastly undergunned force in the Mercury system had held as long as it was able but
ultimately shattered when the very warp point itself seemed to change—and then truly immense warships emerged. According to the last courier that had come to his command in Treadway, four surviving SDHs had been within thirty minutes of reaching the safety of that same portal. But now almost half a day had passed and those SDHs had never come through.

Not that that had been a surprise. Shortly after the expected arrival time of the last four SDHs had elapsed, Nejfel has sent an RD back into Mercury. The area immediately around his own warp point was deserted, although a small human force was detected inbound: a pair of SMTs, a few DD’s, and about a dozen battleships—relatively old marks from what the sensors showed of their drive efficiencies. Clearly, not an assault force: just enough to keep an uncertain attacker from Treadway occupied for a while. However, because Nejfel’s reconnaissance drone had seen this detachment, and because one of his relay drones had promptly apprised him of it, he would not be an uncertain attacker—not if he struck within the next few hours.

Meaning that Nejfel now had a most difficult decision to make: sit tight and defend his side of the Treadway-Mercury warp point or advance to engage the humans. The matter had been debated among his primes and seconds for thirty minutes already, and the accelerated recordings of the battles and deployments in Mercury had been played three times. But now Nejfel let his subordinates feel his
selnarm
coalesce, like a gas cohering, compacting, gathering into a liquid that would soon roll its will down upon them and set the task force on whichever course he might choose.

“We advance,” he radiated. Those members of his staff who were devotees of Torhok signaled (pleasure)—from which they could not purge a faint halo of (surprise) as well. Nejfel was known to be a favorite of Narrok, and his deft but masterful prosecution of constraining actions against the Tangri resonated with that admiral’s doctrine of measuring the force required for a task so as to minimize the losses taken. Consequently, Torhok’s advocates had expected Nejfel to hunker down and defend the warp point from this side.

Predictably, Nejfel’s decision to attack had the opposite effect upon his most dedicated supporters. “Admiral,” asked his ops prime, “may I ask what leads you to this decision?”

“The inevitability of the situation, Ops.”

“I do not understand. We have reasonable minefields here in Treadway, and our combat tonnage vastly outmatches what we have seen the humans commit to the warp point into our system. Granted, we could probably defeat them even if we assault across the warp point, but we can
surely
hold them here, with minimal losses, while Admiral Narrok sends a sufficient force up the Arm. With no place left to run, these human ships will be crushed by our numbers.”

Nejfel signaled (appreciation) but thought:
How much this war has cost us already, that this precocious Youngling is the best advisor in my task force. Heaven help us against the seasoned command staffs of the humans.
What he shared with his staff was: “Would that these were our only worries. But the appearance of this human force gives us a new, and very dangerous, variable that we must factor into our plans: Where have they come from? Alas, I suspect discarnate Unshezh’s surmise is correct: that either the humans have discovered a new warp point leading from a seat of their power to one of the systems beyond BR-06 or have been able to manufacture one. If this is the case, then we could be faced with the thankless task of trying to stem a flood, a tidal wave that has no end. And we cannot do it from here. The surge is coming at us out of the Trebuchet Trace and has already broken free into Mercury. Even if Admiral Narrok arrives with the entirety of his fleet, there is no surety that they will be able to compel the humans to withdraw back that way. Meaning that we are cut off, without hope of reinforcements. We must do what we can with what we have.”

“But if you are right, Fleet Second, then how will our attacking into the Mercury system manage to deter this armada of enemy ships? We would be a pebble challenging a mountain.”

Nejfel radiated (serenity, certainty). “Then we must not challenge the mountain, Ops. We must remember this: our actions will be without efficacy if we do not first carefully consider how they will mesh with the actions being undertaken by the rest of our forces.”

“And what actions do you conjecture they are undertaking, Task Force Commander?”

“Nothing unusual, Tactics. Just as our drones have reported to us, those waiting at the Athena warp point have certainly reported back as well, and their alarum is even now racing down the arm—toward Narrok and Torhok. They certainly have enough ships to halt this human invasion—but will they have enough time? Any relief forces coming up toward Mercury will be in a desperate race to intercept the humans before they get far enough down the Arm that they could come between our two greatest force concentrations: the Home Fleet under Torhok in New Ardu, and the Expeditionary Fleet under Narrok in Ajax. So what our brothers and sisters need is time. That is what we must purchase for them.”

“But if we abandon this warp point to carry a full-scale attack into Mercury, the Tangri will—”

(Agreement, exception.) “At this moment, my primes, all other considerations pale beside this: we must do what we can to buy time so that our fleet that can contain this incursion. I have already instructed the forces in Tisiphone to leave only light elements there and to take our place, defending this side of Treadway’s warp point into Mercury. If, as a consequence, the Tangri sense the withdrawal of our task forces in Tisiphone and beyond, then it must be so: our first and only duty is to the survival of our Race. And that duty calls us to meet the humans in the Mercury system. Are there any questions or uncertainties?”

“A curiosity, Admiral.”

“Yes, Ops?”

“What will we do, once we meet the humans in the Mercury system?”

“An excellent question. I wish I had an excellent answer. But since we have elected not to send through further RDs—thereby hoping to lull the humans into believing it as a sign of our quiescence—I cannot know what we will find when we get to the other side. Once there, I will choose among a variety of alternatives.”

The group was still.
Selnarms
pulsed with (accord)—some eagerly, some with that species of regret that typifies a person who has lost a debate…and knows that the right of the argument was indeed with the other side.

“Very well,” Nejfel projected, “we are finished. Ops, alert the task force: flank speed, closest intervals,
Urret-fah’ah
minesweepers in the lead. The order is: all hulls through the warp point into Mercury.”

TRNS
Scarlet Reaper
, Combat Group Sierra, Allied Fleet, Mercury System

“Captain! Warp-point activity!”

“What? Evasive and all batteries, fire.”

“Yes, sir, but—they’re pinnaces. Dozens, all running heavy ECM and image makers. And, sir—”

Commander Simone Aswan-Parimbo had learned what that tone of voice meant when uttered by her seasoned ops officer: disaster on the hoof, and closing in. “Facts. Fast.”

But before Ops could speak, Simone’s ship—the supermonitor TRNS
Scarlet Reaper—
bucked, the tacplot blinked, and when it came back, half of her command—Combat Group Sierra—was gone. “Shit,” she muttered, “what the hell just hap—?”

Simone was vaporized in mid-syllable, along with every other person onboard her SMT. Having positioned her hull close to the warp point so as to be able to put immediate, murderous fire on anything that came through, there was one gambit she had not anticipated: that the often uninventive Arduans would discover a new use for their Stickhive minesweepers. Retrofitted with advanced ECM and far more powerful engines, three of the glorified cluster bombs had come through the warp point, recovered almost immediately, and darted forward at almost 0.23 c toward the closest hulls of Combat Group Sierra. One Stickhive had been intercepted in time. The second got most of Captain Aswan-Parimbo’s light hulls. But the third one survived long enough to come within 32,000 kilometers of the
ScarletReaper
and discharge its omnidirectional spray of immense antimatter warheads.