The Ganthoran Gambit (The First Admiral Series) (27 page)

Rising up to his full height, Billy Caudwell took a deep breath, and turned decisively from the War Table. The War Room had once again fallen into an expectant silence. The War Room personnel knew that if Billy granted the request it was only a matter of time before they would have to withdraw from the battle and concede defeat.

“Permission...denied,” Billy announced defiantly. “We hold our ground here, and we fight until we’ve beaten this enemy!”

“Sir,” Lokkrien began to protest, “the Star-Cruisers are working on overheated pulsar-cannon. We could lose two whole Fleets....”

“I know, Marrhus!” Billy hissed angrily. “But I am not prepared to abandon this position and the people on Ganthus, to Sal’nor and his cronies!”

“But, sir, we could head back to the Frontier, come back in greater strength, and destroy Sal’nor and the Frontier Fleets,” Lokkrien argued softly.

“No, Marrhus, Sal’nor would butcher the people on Ganthus, and if we admit defeat here, the Ganthoran people won’t have any faith in us, and there is no guarantee that the Alliance will hold together long enough to let us bring an Expeditionary Force back here,” Billy’s response gave expression to his deepest fears.

“Then, how exactly are you going to hold this position?” Lokkrien challenged.

Looking at the three-dimensional War Table image, Billy could see only too clearly what the build-up of Ganthoran Cruisers in the centre of their formation meant. They were building for a major counter-attack to break clear of the Wormhole. It looked like the Ganthorans were about to play one large high-stakes gamble to break the Alliance formation.

The part of his mind that was Teg Skarral Portan told Billy that he had to take drastic and decisive action in the next few minutes, or the whole defensive position, and the battle, would be lost.

“WATO, I want you to load as much explosive ordnance as you can into the Appomattox, when the crew are clear!” Billy ordered.

“A flying bomb?” Lokkrien asked.

“Yes, Marrhus,” Billy replied, “desperate times need desperate measures. We have to deal with this formation before they can break out from here, and we especially need to be on top of them before their Carriers arrive.”

“And, who might I ask, is going to take this flying bomb to the enemy?” Lokkrien asked.

“That’ll be me, Marrhus, I’m taking her in.” Billy’s response sounded matter-of-factly, despite a strange, uneasy sensation that he felt at the back of his mind.

“Sir, you can’t be serious!? Marrhus Lokkrien hissed quietly in alarm. “I can order a Junior Officer to take the Appomattox in!”

“No, Marrhus!” Billy responded, “I can’t ask anyone to do what I’m not prepared to do myself!”

“But, it’s suicide, you can’t...!”

“No buts, Marrhus!” Billy made his statement with a degree of finality. “Get her loaded up with as much ordnance as she can carry.”

“Then, sir!” Marrhus Lokkrien drew himself to the attention position. “I wish to make a formal protest. It is not the duty of the First Admiral to put himself at unnecessary risk in battle. And, furthermore, it is the duty of the Chief of Staff to point out to the First Admiral that he’s being a fool and taking unnecessary risks!”

For a few moments, the entire War Room fell silent. The stunned silence was punctuated by the quiet whisper of Communications chatter, and the hum of the console machinery. Officers and Technicians sat quietly at their posts, confused at the outburst of the Chief of Staff, and also curious as to how Billy Caudwell would respond.

“Your protest is duly noted, Admiral Lokkrien,” Billy said formally, “but my mind is made up. After all, what can go wrong, Marrhus? Now, take over and keep me informed of the battle’s progress.”

With a sense of rising excitement, Billy turned from the War Table and set off for the Tele-Port Pad, one of the thousands of such facilities aboard the Olympus that was located next to the War Room. Grim-faced, Marrhus Lokkrien took charge of the unfolding battle, silently cursing the hot-headed young human who was his Commanding Officer.

Billy Caudwell arrived at the Tele-Port Pad just in time to see a large consignment of explosives being delivered to one of the Landing Bays aboard the Appomattox. The explosive substance being delivered was called Sarranite, and was more destructive, kilo for kilo, than any nuclear device on Earth. Ten kilos of Sarranite, it was calculated, could destroy a city the size of New York. Now, Billy Caudwell had ordered as much of the substance as he could get to be delivered onto the Appomattox.

Elizabeth Caudwell rolled over on the spare bed set up in her old room and drew up her knees. With her head resting on the soft and comfortable pillow, her mind drifted away as the raindrops pattered and slowly ran down the window panes.

How have I gotten myself into such a mess?
She questioned.

The journey home from London had been a mind-whirling roller-coaster of anxiety and confusion for Elizabeth Caudwell. The train journey north also seemed to disappear into the same blur of introspection. And, on arrival at the house, she had simply shoved her suitcase into the boot of her car and driven to her old home village.

Her arrival at the three-bedroom mining cottage of her parents was greeted with a great deal more hostility than Elizabeth had expected. Her very conservative mother had launched into one of her usual tirades about how Elizabeth had abandoned her husband and children. She had conveniently forgotten that Billy was at a Boarding School in the Highlands and John was on the other side of the world. Neither of the Caudwell men was likely to be sitting at the family table starving to death in Elizabeth’s absence. And, for some reason, Elizabeth felt strangely guilty about it. Part of her clung to the old notion; instilled in her by her mother, of a woman’s place being in the home. And, there had been times when she had sought that certainty, contentment, and security of the wife and mother role.

Yet, here she was, on her old bed in the spare room of her parents’ home, and the world was her oyster. Her literary success was opening up so many wonderful opportunities for her that she wanted to grasp with both hands. She wanted to travel and see all the places she had only read about in magazines and had dreamt about. Now, all those dreams were within her reach. And, yet, the ever-present image of John and Billy arose in her mind. John seemed to have his own projects that occupied his time, and Billy had effectively left home to go to school. Even when he was at home, he seemed more distant than ever to both his mother and his father. At times, he even appeared to be a totally different person. Elizabeth knew that it was all part of growing up, but, still, she wished he could remain her little boy for a few more years.

But, part of Elizabeth knew that one day she would have to let Billy go. And, that day would probably arrive sooner than she had expected. But, just for now, she still had her son, and she was still trying to do the best for him that she could. Getting Billy away from the influence of John Caudwell had been her objective and she had only partly succeeded in that. Elizabeth knew that John was toxic for Billy. All of the frustrations and disappointments of John’s life had been squarely set at Billy’s door. It wasn’t Billy’s fault that he had been conceived out of wedlock, and that John and Elizabeth had been compelled to marry because of it. But, it was John’s inconsistency to their son that frightened Elizabeth. Billy could bring back a poor report card from school and be berated by John for being lazy. If he brought home straight A’s at some point, he would be criticised for being too clever for his own good.

No wonder the boy has no self-confidence
, she considered

She had tolerated John’s inconsistency for too long now, and now she had the power to do something about it. Drawing the pillow down to her shoulders, Elizabeth Caudwell closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, more determined than ever to protect her son from John Caudwell.

In Landing Bays and Storage Holds all over the Appomattox, the brilliant white Tele-Port flashes were delivering the most powerful explosive substance in the universe onto a doomed warship. In total, almost three tonnes of Sarranite were being delivered to the vessel. Fortunately, for Billy Caudwell, Sarranite was a very stable substance, at least until it was exposed to the most intense heat. The Garmaurians had used microscopic amounts of Proto-Star matter in specially designed detonators to explode their Sarranite charges. Billy Caudwell was going to use several grams of Proto-Star matter to ignite several tonnes of Sarranite.

“That’s the last load of explosives away, sir,” the anxious Tele-Port Officer reported.

“Excellent!” Billy praised the young orange-faced Pyruvian, who beamed proudly. “Engineer, can you put me down in the Battle Centre of the Star-Cruiser Appomattox?”

“Yes, sir,” the slightly older, Thexxian, Tele-Port Technician nodded.

He was well aware of the Appomattox’s position, having just managed to Tele-Port several hundred of her crew from the stricken Star-Cruiser.

“If you’d care to step onto the mark, sir.” The Technician indicated the red square on the deck in front of his console. “I’ll programme the landing location for you in a moment,”

Stepping onto the red plate, Billy watched as the Tele-Port Technician programmed the target location into the system.

“Standing by, sir.” The Technician indicated that he was ready to begin the transfer.

“Very well, Engineer, Tele-Port!” Billy vanished in a flash of bright, white, blinding light.

An instant later, the flash of bright, white, blinding light delivered First Admiral Billy Caudwell onto the Battle Centre deep in the heart of the Star-Cruiser Appomattox. Orienting himself quickly from the Tele-Port, Billy looked around the small Battle Centre, and was not entirely surprised with what he found. What had been a well set out and organised secondary Control Cabin for the Star-Cruiser was now in shambles. The remains of beams and girders, that had supported bulkheads and the decks above, were strewn everywhere. Power conduits had been wrenched open by the force of the blast, with cabling and pipes hanging down from the deck above.

Some of the cabling still sparked dangerously, indicating that power still flowed through them from the Proto-Star Generator. All four walls of the small square Battle Centre were scorched by the fire, and almost all of the consoles for the secondary control of the major systems were wrecked. Debris and wreckage was strewn across the small and compact room, and the metallic stench of electrical burning hung heavily in the air. The heat of the room was close to intolerable. Yet, despite the heat, there was no sign of any fires still burning away.

Several of the metal girders were already twisted and scorched with what had been the intense heat of the explosions that had torn through the stricken vessel. Billy Caudwell, however, did not have the luxury of time to make any further investigations into how badly damaged the Battle Centre was. With a simple thought command to his Personal Environment Suit, Billy instructed the thousands of microscopic machines to generate a Force Shield around him.

The Force Shield would not only protect him from the heat and any further explosions, it would also generate a micro-climate that would allow him to operate comfortably in such a hostile environment. Almost instantly, the intense heat and the pungent smell of burning disappeared, to be replaced by a cool sensation on his skin.

The first order of business was to find and secure the main Control Console amongst the devastation. From there, he could steer and drive the huge Star-Cruiser forward. Locating the console, Billy found that it was covered in wreckage and debris. He had to clear all of that away to make sure that the instruments and controls still functioned. Stepping forward, Billy ducked to avoid some cabling that hung down from the deck above, which waved and sparked dangerously in the confined space of the Battle Centre. Approaching the console, Billy could see that a heavy metallic beam had landed across the face of the control panel. To get to the controls, the beam would have to be moved.

Setting his right shoulder underneath the beam, Billy pushed upwards with his thighs to dislodge the heavy item. The beam steadfastly refused to budge from Billy’s initial shove. However, with a simple thought control, Billy was able to intensify the Force Shielding around his body and slowly project the Shielding forward. The effect was to dislodge the beam and push it away from the console. With his arms, Billy guided the creaking and groaning beam as it protested its way from the comfortable resting place of the console. With a loud, metallic clatter, Billy released the beam from his hands, and allowed it to fall to the deck floor.

With the heavy beam dislodged, it took Billy a few moments to clear the rest of the debris away from and around the console, with his hands and his boots. And, with the debris swept away, Billy was able to examine the console itself for the first time. It looked to be intact, and from the array of flashing coloured lights that blinked at him from the large semi-circular console, it also appeared to be functional. Quickly, Billy scanned the Console that was essentially the heart of the Battle Centre. From what Billy could see of the Control Console in the dim and gloomy light of the Battle Centre, all the major systems that he needed were, at least, functional. Propulsion was still a viable system, although three of the four Thrust Engines that drove the Star-Cruiser had been shut down. The crew, fearing greater and potentially fatal, structural damage to the vessel had limped her away from the battle area on only one engine.

The Navigation system also appeared to be intact, as did the controls for the all-important Force Shielding. It appeared as if the pulsar-cannon and the Self-Defence Turrets had been disengaged, which mattered very little; this was going to be a straight run onto the enemy formation - no guns would be required. And, satisfying himself that he had a viable weapon to deliver, Billy began the next part of his plan. With another thought command, Billy opened the Comms Net to the flagship.

“Caudwell to Olympus.” Billy fired up the single remaining functioning engine of the badly damaged Star-Cruiser.

“Go ahead, sir,” the voice sounded in his ear.

“Ready for departure, Olympus.” Billy issued the stand-by order with confidence.

In a few moments, he would engage the one remaining Thrust Engine of the fatally- damaged Appomattox, and direct her straight into the heart of the Ganthoran formation that was attempting to break out from the mouth of the Wormhole. But first, he had to orientate himself and become comfortable with the controls. His experience with combat vessels was not as extensive as he would have liked, but he had managed to pilot his own personal transport; The Black Rose, as well as an Eagle fighter and several unarmed transport vessels. However, a crippled Star-Cruiser was not an Eagle fighter or a transport.

Calmly, Billy set the outspread fingers of his right hand into the custom-made five-digit hand template that was the Main Manual Steering Plate for the Star-Cruiser. Instantly, a three-dimensional holographic image of the Star-Cruiser sprang up a few feet from Billy’s face.

The image flickered for a few moments, indicating that there was damage in the sensors that gauged the ship’s altitude and position, and relayed the information to the Navigator who piloted the vessel. With a few lurches and twists to the image, it stabilised, giving Billy a clear outline of the vessel, and an indication of the damage to the major systems. With a quick check of the holographic view screen to the left of the Star-Cruiser image, Billy could see that Weapons, Communications, and the Main Power were completely gone. Various other systems were also non-functional, however, Propulsion, Navigation and Force-Shielding were almost entirely intact. Propulsion and Navigation read as “Nominal” and Force-Shielding was at a healthy sixty-eight percent efficiency.

Billy had all the systems that he needed for his plan. With a deep breath and a silent prayer, Billy pressed his right hand forward to change the direction of the Star-Cruiser. At the same instant, he drew his left hand forward to the third blue light on the throttle control. And, with a huge groan of protest from the already-damaged, tortured, and twisted metal, the Star-Cruiser Appomattox began to move slowly and painfully forward.

“Olympus confirming you have forward propulsion, sir.” The voice from the Comms Net fed directly into his brain.

“Acknowledged, Olympus,” Billy said.

On the two-dimensional Tactical View Screen, Billy saw that the small red-highlighted image that represented the Appomattox was starting to move slowly away from the light blue images of the Alliance formation, towards the yellow icons of the Ganthorans. Now all he had to do was set the self-destruct mechanism and point the doomed Star-Cruiser into the heart of the Ganthoran position at the mouth of the Calyx Wormhole.

“Sir,” the voice of Marrhus Lokkrien called in his inner-ear, “we’ve just lost the Andromeda.”

Out on the battlefield, the Star-Cruiser “Andromeda” had been hit simultaneously by the Screaming Death waves of four Ganthoran Frontier Fleet Cruisers, and had exploded in an enormous burst of yellow and red flames. A direct hit from four Ganthoran Cruisers should have been survivable for an Alliance Star-Cruiser. However, the Andromeda was one of the newly commissioned vessels that had a very inexperienced crew. Unfortunately, that inexperience had been fatal. On the two-dimensional Tactical View Screen in front of him, there was now a gap in the Alliance formation where the Andromeda had been stationed.

From the same image, Billy could also see around thirty Ganthoran Cruisers clustering in the centre of the formation. Hundreds of Ganthoran Destroyers were pushing forward to engage the Alliance ships, whilst this large body of Cruisers massed for what would be a hammer blow of a counter-attack. This was indeed a dangerous situation. Billy knew that if he called Alliance vessels in from the periphery of the formation, it would leave them weakened and vulnerable to a break out by the more nimble and agile Ganthoran Destroyers. The Ganthoran Frontier Fleets were only just being penned in on the margins of the battle by the Alliance Star-Cruisers and Eagles, which were supported by the Cruisers and Destroyers from Grobbeg’s Fleet.

The large numbers of Ganthoran Destroyers were fighting to gain the initiative, whilst the Cruisers massed in the centre behind the Destroyer screen. It was only going to be a matter of time before those Cruisers decided to attempt a break out.

And, if they did break out whilst Billy was still aboard the Appomattox, then he would have to scamper back to the Olympus to regain his War Table and take charge of the battle once more.

That, Billy knew, would take time, and in those crucial minutes, decisive opportunities could be lost that could swing the battle one way or the other.

“Acknowledged.” Billy’s reply was bitter, since he realised that he could not control the battle from this close to the front line.

In a battle situation, he had to have full knowledge and understanding of what was going on to make effective decision-making possible.

Here begin-eth the lesson,
Billy thought.

He had been in such a hurry to get into the action that he had forgotten what his true and correct role in the battle had been. He was the Supreme Commander; the Master Tactician and Strategist. That was what he was best at. That was what the Mind profile of First Admiral Teg Skarral Portan had made him. He now realised that he had no business to be risking his life aboard a crippled Star-Cruiser, simply because his vanity and arrogance had made him want to be the hero. Silently, Billy cursed himself for his foolishness and arrogance

“We’ve just lost the Archimedes,” Lokkrien announced in his inner ear, “we won’t be able to hold the centre for much longer, sir...Do we start withdrawing, sir?”

Marrhus Lokkrien was asking a perfectly reasonable question, given the circumstances. The centre of the Alliance position would start to crumble, and if the expected Ganthoran Cruiser counter-attack came, the Alliance position would collapse. With the Alliance centre pierced, the vessels on the edge of the formation would be isolated making them easy prey for the huge numbers of Ganthoran Axe-Blades. This was the critical juncture of the battle. However, Billy could still see that none of the big “Six Cigar” Carriers had appeared yet.

If he could neutralise the combined threat of the Cruisers and Destroyers, the Carriers would be vulnerable when they emerged from the Wormhole. It would then be a case of setting the high-yield pulsar-cannon onto the Carriers before they could launch their swarms of single-seat fighters.

“No, Admiral,” Billy replied to the last request from Lokkrien, “grit your teeth and hold on here - I need two more minutes.”

“Acknowledged, sir, we’ll try to give you that time,” Lokkrien responded.

Right, here we go
, Billy thought.

To make the Appomattox into a first-rate flying bomb, he had to set the Force Shielding to the maximum setting he could muster from the Proto-Star Reactor. That was going to be difficult, because the self-destruct mechanism would close down the Containment Fields around the Reactor. As the doomed ship travelled forward towards the target, the energy levels would be depleted as the Proto-Star matter was released into the ship. That meant a very fine balancing act between energy for propulsion, and energy for the Force Shielding, plus some careful timing as to when the vessel finally detonated. For the maximum effect, Billy wanted the Appomattox to explode right in the middle of the Ganthoran formation. The cluster of Cruisers that were massing for the counter attack would be directly in the path of the Appomattox. It wouldn’t take the Ganthorans too long to figure out that the lone Star-Cruiser; single-handedly attacking the strongest part of their position, was on a suicide mission. And, consequently, every available Ganthoran gun would be turned on her.