The Last Charge (The Nameless War Trilogy Book 3) (33 page)

“Okaaayyy...” Host muttered to himself.

“Are we ready?” she asked.

“We are indeed.”

Alice looked upwards.

“Now we just need them to turn up.”

They were waiting for over a day, with each ten-man detachment taking its turn listening to the radio. During her time off,
Alice attempted to teach herself Italian using one of the old paper books she’d picked up in the settlement. Finally the radio chirped into life.

“Landfall, this is
Battle Fleet scout ship K7, signalling in the blind.”

Alice
closed her eyes. She hadn’t listened, hadn’t wanted to listen, to any of the previous transmissions. It had just been too painful.

“Landfall, this is
Battle Fleet scout ship K7, signalling in the blind,”
the radio repeated.

“All right, Host,” she said, her throat unaccountably dry.

“We are live and on air,” he said as he activated their pre-recorded signal.

“Landfall, this is
Battle Fleet scout ship K7…”

Then they cut in with their message, which had been recorded by the Colonel. There was no way to know how much of human communication the Nameless understood, so it was baldly factual but with the fewest details he had judged necessary.
Alice looked to the north and the distant hills between them and the settlement, expecting at any moment to see a kinetic strike projectile spear down from the clouds.

The radio went silent as Dautsch’s message finished.

“Come on, come on,” Host whispered.

“Landfall, this is
Battle Fleet scout ship K7 to Colonel Dautsch. Message received.”

There was a pause
– long enough for Alice to conclude that was all they were getting. Then it crackled into life again.

“Hang on in there, Landfall. We’re coming.”

“Alright,” Alice said in a choked voice, “let’s get packed up. I want to be ten kilometres away from here by nightfall.”

An hour later they were making good time directly away from the settlement when the marine out front shouted out.

“Aircraft! Cover!”

Everyone went to ground.

From the ditch into which she rolled,
Alice waited and listened. Something thundered directly over them and she braced for the shock of bombs, but nothing came. Sitting up she caught sight of one of the Nameless’s big airship-like gunboats moving away, on course for the Italian settlement.

Now they know we’re still here, she thought.

Chapter Fifteen

Drumbeat

31st August 2068
 

The small conference room darkened as the projector came on.

“Four point seven light years is the largest gap between solar systems that we have ever observed the Nameless traverse. If a jump from one system to another involves a greater distance than that, then the Nameless find a route that involves smaller steps, even if that entails a substantial detour. Certain very isolated solar systems appear to be beyond their reach, something we have used in the past and continue to use to establish secure bases.”

“Yes, this is all very established but what is it that the intelligence section thinks gives us a strategic opportunity?” Wingate asked.

“This, sir,” Tsukioka replied. “This map is derived from one seized by the
De Gaulle
task force. Of course, much of the military information on it will most likely be out of date as the Nameless shift supply dumps and gates to prevent us targeting them. But there are things they cannot change.”

“Yes, their home worlds,” Admiral Fengzi interrupted, “but we cannot project a fleet that far for long enough to win a campaign. The logistics are simply beyond us.”

“I wasn’t referring to the home worlds, sir,” Tsukioka said. “I’m talking about this system here – one we which in Intelligence refer to as The Spur. It is in effect the first stepping stone from their arm of the galaxy to ours.”

“What distance is it from the first system in the Nameless arm?” Lewis asked as he studied the map.

“Four point nine three light years.”

“That’s…”

“Yes sir, further than any other jump we have seen.”

“So it disproves the four point seven limit theory?” Fengzi asked.

“Perhaps not sir. It is the only gate installation that we have ever seen transmit a beacon. We in intelligence believe those two points to be related. We think that this distance of four point nine three is... the ragged edge of their jump capability. Even with a gate station, they can only make the jump with a beacon to home in on. Without that beacon, the jump becomes impossible. So if this system is taken from them, then the Nameless cannot reach us.”

“And simply going towards the galactic core, where the arms converge
– why isn’t that an option?” Wingate asked.

Tsukioka flicked a control and the computer ran through multiple navigation permutations until it settled on one.

“According to our star charts and distant observations, without the Spur and making no individual jumps further than four point nine three light years, this is the next shortest route from the Nameless worlds to Earth. As you say, they would have to travel inwards towards the galactic core, where the arms converge and star density is higher, then cross through the Aèllr Confederacy or dogleg round it. The distance between them and us would at least triple. We believe the distance they are already fighting across is near the limit of their capabilities. Even if they could manage it, the fleet they already have in our arm will have starved before they can re-establish a supply channel. Without the Spur, the war is over.”

Lights came back on, but the room remained silent.

“Paul, what do you think?” Wingate asked.

“Interesting,” Lewis said thoughtfully. “It is a possible target but we need to know more. A few optical images aren’t enough to base an attack on. How long to get ships out there again and make repeated reconnaissance passes?”

“It’s a long way. The turn around time for even our fastest couriers would be six weeks,” Tsukioka replied. “That’s once we get a relay of supply ships into position.”

“Which is a hell of a long way,” Wingate commented.

“The solution to our problems would hardly be next door,” Fengzi said.

“Sadly not, but it means we will have to commit to an attack based on information that will be months out of date by the time any combat units can arrive in the area,” Lewis replied.

“Follow up missions are a given,” Wingate said. “We need to work out where to place and route vessels to allow a continuous loop of reconnaissance ships.

“Some of these more isolated systems, which the Nameless can’t reach, offer us secure locations,” Lewis said, pointing to a number of possibilities. “In fact, we must start putting together some kind of logistical chain now. Otherwise it will be impossible keep a fleet in the field at such distance if we have to heave everything from Earth.”

“Get forward supply dumps in place at the least,” Fengzi replied. “We can start that now. If we can, find gas giants we can use for fuel supply.”

“Which means the reconnaissance ships will have to perform a more generalised survey of the entire region,” Wingate added, as he began to take notes.

The Commodore was forgotten as the three officers began to brainstorm.

“One of the problems we’ll have to face is that we’ll be pressing them back on their own supply lines for the first time,” Lewis said during a pause.

The meeting had been going on for several hours. Staff officers had been called in and sent out for information while Wingate had departed to drum up information, leaving the commanders of the Home and Second Fleets to continue. Cold, forgotten mugs of tea and coffee were scattered across the table. They were making steady progress in identifying potential problems. Solutions would take longer.

“What are you thinking?” Fengzi asked.

“That we’ll be a lot closer to their worlds than ours,” Lewis replied, “and closer to whatever units they retain there.”

“A home fleet?”

“Or fleets. We only have one
really critical world to defend and in peacetime at least a third of our fleet is based here. They have a dozen. Based on the historical information, I can’t see the Nameless leaving their worlds undefended.”

Lewis paused to consider the map again.

“With the losses they took during the siege, I think they’ve had to feed forward at least some units to maintain a presence on the front.”

“Definitely,” Fengzi agreed. “There were at least six heavy units that weren’t I.D’d before the siege, but have been seen since. You think there are more?”

“I’d bet my pension, and yours, on it,” Lewis replied. “The problem with an assault on the Spur is that it is close enough for the Nameless to commit their home fleet to the fighting without heavy logistical support.”

“So, those ships have to be given a reason, a good reason, to remain close to their home worlds.”

Lewis drummed the edge of the table with his fingers.

“We have a number of un-answerables here. The beacon, if that’s what it is, is there for a reason. But do they need just an initial fix to jump, or do they need it to be active for the entire transit to home in on?”

“Well, the beacon was on for the entire period
Spectre
had it under observation, so I would guess the latter,” Fengzi said.

“Unfortunately, that’s a guess.”

“Yes, but a logical one.”

“It makes a big difference, though,” Lewis replied. “If they need only a single pulse, then any Nameless warship on this side of the rift can supply it. While the loss of the gate will cut off most of their supply ships, warships would still be able to make the jump from their side of the rift and into the fighting at the Spur.”

“But if they need a continuous signal, then the Nameless are in a more serious position,” Fengzi said thoughtfully. “If we had warships in system, then any FTL beacon would give our ships the real time position of whatever ship was providing it. Our ships would reach the signaller before those jumping from the far side of the rift. If they need a continuous transmission, then it follows that to lose the transmission mid jump might be too dangerous to risk. In effect, they would have to force our ships out of the system before they dared activate a beacon.”

“They crossed it once so I’d be inclined to say they could do it again, especially since they have so many assets already in this arm of the galaxy,” Lewis said

“Yes, but at what price?” Fengzi countered. “It could have been a slow-boat passage or it needed specialist ships. It might even be that several or many ships attempted the passage until one succeeded and provided a beacon to those that followed. It’s not as if they are afraid of casualties.”

“True,” Lewis grunted. “Or they simply mounted an expedition in towards the galactic core, then worked their way back up to the Spur and built the gate station.”

“That’s probably the most likely,” Fengzi conceded. “Their method isn’t important though.”

The two men paused, both of them staring at the map, both searching for some kind of enlightenment.

“So, we’re already up to a multi-part operation,” Lewis said eventually. “One: assault and destroy the gate. Two: contest the system long enough for the Nameless fleet to be starved of supplies. Three: find a way to pin down the Nameless home fleets so that even if they can make the passage, they cannot leave their home worlds exposed.”

“There is another point I would add to that,” Fengzi said. “If the Spur really is the holy grail, then the Nameless will throw in everything to hold or regain it. Before we go in against it, we need to force them to commit their resources elsewhere. We need multiple contact points spread across multiple systems.”

“Continuous assault?”

“In effect,” Fengzi nodded. “Anywhere that we can make contact with the enemy, we engage them. If or when they fall back, we follow for as long as we can. Force them to burn the candle at both ends.”

Lewis nodded slowly as he considered the point, then finally sat back in his seat.

“One thing for sure,” he said. “While this might be our big chance, we’ll only have the strength to try once.”

___________________________

17th November 2068 

“As much as I dislike clichés,” Alanna said over her shoulder, “but were we ever that young?”

“No Skip, we were always profoundly more mature and experienced,” Schurenhofer replied as she leaned on the back of Alanna’s seat to view the holo. “Probably better looking as well.”

Not that you were around
, Alanna thought to herself. Schurenhofer hadn’t been there for the first days of the war – at least not in fighters. She’d done advanced fighter training, but before the war there had only been a need for so many new crews each year, with the result that only the best of them that made the cut. Now crews were being rushed through training as fast as the fleet dared – maybe slightly faster.

A dozen blips signifying the fighters of the training squadron swirled around one another as they fought for position. The trainees themselves were in simulator pods, which spun and jolted to recreate the G-forces of real flight. The effect for the outside observer was that of twelve huge and epileptic gyroscopes. It was no wonder the hall was nicknamed the Funfair. With the end of the siege and
Dauntless
heading for the repair docks, they’d been put off the ship. Schurenhofer was overdue and Alanna wildly overdue a rest period, so after they’d been dispatched for few weeks leave, the fleet posted them both to the advanced fighter training base on the moon. Alanna had expected the trainees to be the kind of people she remembered – young, cocky and kinda stupid. But those being raced through the programme were of a different breed – not least because they were aware of previous fighter crew losses. Most were eager to absorb the experience their predecessors had paid for so dearly.

Alanna was glad she and Schurenhofer had both been assigned. After so long and so much together, it would be hard to get used to a new weapons operator. She’d even managed to keep hold of
D for Dubious
, which had been given a thorough overhaul before being returned. Alanna doubted the huge, faceless and generally uncaring administration was showing any favouritism. Things were just going her way, for a while at least.

“Do you reckon these guys will be ready for the push?” Schurenhofer asked.

“It will be tough for them if they aren’t.”

As she watched, four of the pods had gone stationary as the main computer registered them as destroyed. The scenario was a basic six on six engagement, not the most educational but every so often it was good to let pilots have a little play with the toys.

The Big Push: it now seemed to be the only bloody thing anyone talked about. There was still fighting going on out in the region of the Junction Line but that wasn’t getting attention from anyone not actively involved. Some ships were in dock for modifications no one was allowed to talk about, while others were heading out past the front line. Everyone knew that the big one was coming, everyone had heard tales of experimental super weapons but officialdom was saying nothing – very, very loudly!

“True,” Schurenhofer replied, “once more unto the bloody breach; any idea where we’re going?”

“Officially I haven’t heard anything. Unofficially, probably back to
Dauntless
. Now where the hell will
Dauntless
be? That’s the million dollar question.”