The burden of command, p.27
The Burden of Command, page 27
part #14 of Empire Rising Series
In less than a minute, their new ship disengaged from Python. Her maneuvering thrusters immediately spun the destroyer’s nose around towards the New Delhi shift passage. Then her forward impulse engines went to full power. As soon as they did, the ship’s computer plotted a course to the shift gate. Two hours and twenty minutes, Jonathan read. He immediately sought out the Flex-aor fleet. Anguish washed over him when he saw it. Eight hundred warships had now been detected. The vast majority of them were headed towards Chennai. The colony had just two Noble battlestations. Each was as powerful as an Imperial Dreadnought, but against eight hundred Flex-aor ships, they would be useless. The colony was doomed. As the holo display updated to project the course of the other Flex-aor ships, guilt was added to Jonathan’s anguish. Forty Flex-aor ships were racing across the system in an effort to catch and destroy every Human contact. Most weren’t going to make it out of the system alive. His ship was, though it would be close. And we don’t know just how much range they have on their missiles, Jonathan reminded himself. “We need to use the shift gate,” he said to his officers. “It will cut our travel time to New Delhi down by nearly a day. Contact them immediately. Order them to activate the gate, and then set its self-destruct. They can launch their shuttles and land in our hangar bay.”
“Contacting them now,” Lydia responded.
Jonathan nodded to her, then looked back at the Flex-aor fleet. Soon, everyone on the ship’s bridge was doing the same. As the alien ships approached Chennai, Jonathan’s hands clenched into fists and his whole body tensed. COM messages reached their ship. The same politician who had spoken to Jonathan was pleading with the Flex-aor to spare them. He was offering the surrender of his planet. The Flex-aor didn’t respond. At least, not with words. As soon as they got into range, they released a massive swarm of missiles. Jonathan wanted to close his eyes. His father had only spoken of the Karacknid’s nuclear attack on Earth once, but Jonathan could still remember the look on his face and the tone of his voice. Jonathan knew what he was about to see would haunt him. Nevertheless, he didn’t look away. He owed the people of Chennai that. Secessionist or not, they were still his people.
The first missiles saturated the point defensive fire of the two battlestations and then blew them apart. The rest, hundreds more, punched through Chennai’s atmosphere. All across the planet’s surface, large mushroom clouds erupted into the sky. It seemed completely surreal. Like something Jonathan had seen in a holo drama. Yet he knew it wasn’t. The anger and rage pumping through his body told him it was real. In the space of seconds, Jonathan watched as Chennai went from a green and orange pristine world, to a nuclear wasteland. He shook his head as a tear ran down his cheek. Tens of millions of humans had just been wiped out, and for what? Their deaths served no purpose. They are pure evil, he growled to himself. Not once in Humanity’s brief war with the Flex-aor had Humanity bombarded a Flex-aor planet, nor in the thirty years they had occupied their systems. Yet seemingly, that meant nothing to the Flex-aor. They have killed them all, Jonathan thought. Murderers! Despite his rage, other thoughts began to filter into his mind. Suddenly, so much of what he hadn’t understood about his childhood made sense. All his life, both his parents had seemed driven beyond anything he could grasp. Whilst he knew they hadn’t neglected him, growing up, time and time again he had watched them spend hours upon hours serving the Empire. They had explained to him many times, but only now did he truly see it. If he could, he would have done anything to save Chennai. Or if not save them, to avenge them, Jonathan thought as he remembered the anger with which his father often spoke of Tanaka-lan. His mind then turned to New Delhi. The planet was home to over a billion colonists. If the Flex-aor managed to breach its defenses, the destruction they would ravage there would outstrip Chennai by a factor of twenty. “We must get there ahead of them,” he found himself saying out loud. “We must get there and prepare to fight. We are not letting this happen again!”
Though no one responded directly to his words, Jonathan knew his friends well enough to sense they were all thinking the same. The atmosphere on the ship’s bridge was full of rage. While no one spoke as their destroyer cruised up to the shift gate, took on three shuttles, and then used the gate to jump into shift space, words weren’t necessary. No one took their eyes from the Flex-aor fleet. They were all of one mind. Whatever it took, they intended to see the Flex-aor ships wiped from existence.
Chapter 23
Every Emperor and Empress has faced the same dilemma with their children; how does one raise a child to lead Humanity without spoiling them? More often than not, our leaders have answered this question by sending their children to serve in the Fleet and Marines. This has resulted in tragedy on more than one occasion.
-Excerpt from Empire Ascendant 3015 AD.
IS Oblivion, Aurora System, (three hours earlier).
“Did you know someone on the crew of the prize ship Admiral?” Davenport asked James. From the tone of her voice, he could tell she was trying to be careful.
James closed his eyes. He couldn’t handle the pain and loss that was assaulting him. Throughout the Karacknid War, he had lost many friends. Before that, he had lost his first wife. More than once over those years, the anguish had threatened to overwhelm him. All of it now seemed ludicrously trivial compared to what he was feeling. Jonathan was gone. His first son.
“Is it this Jake Jackson?” Davenport pressed.
James opened his eyes. When he looked at Davenport, she flinched back. “Jake is Jonathan,” he moaned as it all came pouring out of him. “I wanted him to experience life as a naval officer without everyone looking at him as my son. Now he is gone.” Saying it out loud completely deflated James. He turned away from Davenport as his hands clenched into fists. What a fool he had been! If he had let everyone know who Jake was, Jonathan likely never would have been assigned to such a dangerous mission. Certainly Resolute’s Captain wouldn’t have put him in charge of a captured pirate vessel. You condemned him! James cursed himself.
“I’m so sorry Admiral,” Davenport said, shock filling her voice. “I had no idea. We can send out a search squadron at once. We don’t need all the ships we have with us. We could spare twenty or more to go and search the area more thoroughly.”
James felt Davenport’s words elicit hope within him. Like an ember trying to catch alight, it flickered and strengthened. His own thoughts blew it out. “We can’t spare any ships, not to go on a wild goose hunt. Resolute searched the area already. They would have discovered the prize ship if it was there. Either it’s been destroyed, or Jonathan took it further afield. If it’s the latter, we would need a hundred more ships to carry out a thorough search.”
“One thing Resolute’s report doesn’t include is finding any debris,” Hoover said, trying to be helpful. “That is positive, surely. If your son took the prize ship to another system, then he could be safe and well.”
James wanted to believe that. Yet it made no sense. If Jonathan had been trying to hunt down a pirate ship, either the ship had escaped or Jonathan had destroyed it. Either way, Jonathan should have returned to Resolute. Even if the prize ship had been damaged, Resolute would have found them when she came looking. No, the most likely explanation was the one he feared the most. Jonathan’s ship had been destroyed or even captured by pirates. No! he told himself, not by pirates, by Teal’s people. Anger swelled within him. He could picture it now. Jonathan had no doubt charged after the fleeing pirate ship and probably walked into some kind of trap. He would have had no idea that he was up against an organized secessionist force rather than a group of independent pirates.
“What is going on?” Nicholls asked as she stepped onto the bridge.
James couldn’t bring himself to tell her. After a few moments of silence, Davenport explained. “We have just rendezvoused with the cruiser Resolute. It’s not good news.”
“No,” Nicholls said as she moved to James’ aside. “Not Jonathan. What has happened?”
“Resolute captured a pirate ship,” Davenport answered. “Captain Domingo put Jonathan in charge and Jonathan pursued another pirate ship into an adjacent system. Nothing has been heard of them since.”
Nicholls placed a hand on James’ shoulder. “But we don’t know anything more?”
“We know he should have returned weeks and weeks ago,” James said. “There is only one reason he hasn’t.”
“Nonsense,” Nicholls said sternly. “There are a hundred reasons. I never served with you in the war, but I’ve heard all the stories. There are literally hundreds of reasons Jonathan might have taken his ship somewhere else.”
James felt his hope flickering again. “But there’s just as many reasons to think his ship has been lost,” he countered.
“But we don’t know anything,” Davenport said. “We need to send more ships to search for him.”
James closed his eyes again. Despite his voiced pessimism, he desperately wanted to dispatch his entire fleet to search. If there is even a slim chance that Jonathan was still alive somewhere, he wanted to move heaven and earth to find him. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to give the order. Doing so would be abandoning the mission they had left Earth for. He was Humanity’s Emperor. He had to think of the Empire first and his family second. The danger Teal and the other secessionists posed to the Empire’s economy and military strength was just as real as it had been before Resolute had sent across her report. How could he commit the whole fleet to a possibly fruitless search that would take months? It would give Teal time to cement his position, both politically and militarily.
“If Jonathan’s ship is damaged somewhere, there could be no time to spare,” Nicholls insisted. “I agree with Admiral Davenport, we should dispatch ships immediately. The more, the better.”
James shook his head. “No, we can’t,” he said as he opened his eyes again. Everyone on Oblivion’s bridge was staring at him. As he looked around, they all looked down, but he sensed them coming up again after his gaze passed over each of them. Finally, he turned to Nicholls. “To search the area of space we are talking about would take all of our fleet and more. Be honest, you know we can’t do that. We can’t give Teal any more time than he has already had. Stopping this secession is more important than Jonathan’s life.”
Davenport sighed. James could see she was trying to find an argument to refute him. When she screwed up her face, he knew she had failed. “Okay, you’re right. We can’t just abandon everything and go running after him. But we shouldn’t lose hope either. We don’t know something bad has happened. That means we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. We should dispatch as many ships as we can spare to go look for him. He is not just your son remember; he is the heir to the Imperial throne. Finding him is crucial.”
“I am in agreement,” Davenport said. “With your permission Admiral, I’d like to dispatch Resolute and a squadron of destroyers and frigates to resume the search. Now that they know who Jake is, I’m sure they will redouble their efforts.”
James nodded as he began to allow his hope to kindle again. This time, he didn’t squash it with his own words. “Yes, we can spare some ships I’m sure.” His voice hardened, “And if Teal has more forces than we’re expecting, then we’ll just have to crush them. It was his ships that Jonathan was hunting. I am going to make Teal pay.”
Nicholls nodded to Davenport, “Write up the orders now Admiral.”
“We could also put a reward out for locating the pirate ship,” Hoover suggested. “There are plenty of adventures out there with their own ships. If we put out a high enough reward, they will scour the nearby systems as well.”
“An excellent idea,” Nicholls replied. “I’ll make those arrangements immediately.” She turned back to James and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am so sorry James, but now is not the time to lose hope. We will deal with Teal swiftly, and then we can join the search for Jonathan if he hasn’t been found by then.”
Though James still felt like a massive hole was opening before him, threatening to suck him into a pit of loss and despair, he clung to the hope Nicholls and Davenport had given him. He may yet be alive, he told himself. Think of all the scrapes you managed to get yourself out of. “Yes,” he said, surprising himself by how confident he sounded. “We will crush Teal and find my son.”
Nicholls smiled at him as she squeezed his shoulder again. She leaned in closer and whispered to him. “You should contact Georgia; she should hear this from you.”
James’ heart filled with emotion. He and Christine had kept Jonathan’s service with the Imperial Fleet hidden from his younger siblings. They hadn’t wanted them to have to keep his secret. He knew Georgia would be mad at him for the lies. Yet she will be even more scared than me, he was just as certain. “Yes, of course, I’ll speak to her immediately,” James said as he reached up and tapped Nicholls’ hand on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he said as he gave her a nod.
“Go now Admiral, we’ll handle things here,” Nicholls insisted.
James wasn’t going to argue. “Set course for New France, maximum velocity,” he ordered before he stood. “We are going to get this over with as quickly as possible.”
*
Oblivion, New France, 27th November 2508 AD, (two days later).
“Firefly has just returned Admiral,” Oblivion’s sensor officer reported. “She’s transmitting her sensor data now.”
“Put it on the holo display,” Davenport ordered. Seconds later, everything the scout ship had detected within the New France system was visible to James and Oblivion’s bridge officers.
“Twelve ships patrolling the shift passage,” a tactical officer announced. “Four more are guarding the shift gate.”
James studied the display in silence for a couple of minutes. He wasn’t just interested in the secessionist ships guarding the shift passage, he wanted to assess the forces deeper in the system. Oblivion’s computer identified a further forty-two armed vessels. Most were in orbit around New France. The fact that they were scattered amidst New France’s orbital battlestations told James the battlestations had all been taken over. Either their crews had joined the mutiny, or they had been replaced. His mind went to Jonathan as he ground his teeth together in frustration. If his son still was out beyond the Empire’s borders, either in a damaged ship or a pirate’s prisoner, he wasn’t going to be able to go searching for him any time soon. Teal had a strong force, and if the battlestations were willing to put up a fight, James didn’t have the ships to take them on. James squared his jaw. He wasn’t going to let battlestations he had built delay him from searching for his son. “Jump us in,” James ordered. “Just out of missile range of their patrols.” In seconds Davenport’s fleet carried out the micro jump into the system. “Order them to surrender,” James snapped.
At once, Davenport opened a COM channel. “This is Admiral Davenport, commander of Home Fleet. All ships patrolling the Aurora shift passage are to stand down immediately. Failure to do so will be taken as a hostile act. Surrender or be destroyed.”
“No response Admiral,” Oblivion’s COM officer announced moments later.
Davenport glanced at James. He nodded. “Take us in,” Davenport ordered.
“They are scattering!” A sensor officer reported.
James smiled. The only opposition any of the secessionist ships had likely faced so far would have been from irate freighter Captains. Now they had eighty warships bearing down on them. Suddenly, their courage had evaporated. “Take the ones we can reach,” James said.
“Dispatch Commodore Osami’s forces,” Davenport commanded.
From the forward elements of Home Fleet, two groups of six frigates suddenly started to race ahead. They easily began to gain on the nearest secessionist ships. “Missile launches,” an officer announced. Two of the secessionists had opened fire. They were the two purpose-built warships within the secessionist squadron. Crewed by pirates, James guessed. Each secessionist destroyer released four missiles towards one of Osami’s groups of frigates. Their fire was sloppy and uncoordinated however. The first group of four missiles would reach the frigates five seconds before the second group. Just seconds later and the six frigates returned fire. Each frigate was armed with three missile tubes, and so the six of them released eighteen mark VIII missiles towards the destroyers. With higher acceleration rates, the mark VIII missiles closed the distance first. The destroyers tried to shoot them down, but they failed miserably. Both were flashed into debris as the missiles detonated. They pumped their thermonuclear energy into focusing crystals and slammed upwards of twenty laser beams into each destroyer.
Though their motherships were dead, the secessionist missiles continued on towards the frigates. Almost casually, the two groups of six frigates altered formation to receive the missiles. Before they opened fire, a new group of contacts sped past them. James sat forward in his command chair out of interest. The new contacts were gunships. About four times the size of a standard Hellcat fighter, they were designed for one thing: engaging enemy missiles. Moving ahead of the frigates, the gunships slowed, then turned around and charged back towards the frigates. The enemy missiles quickly caught up with them. As soon as they were in range, the gunships opened fire. Travelling along the same trajectory as the missiles, the gunships had sixteen seconds to engage the missiles. Each gunship fired four AM missiles, and then they opened up with their twin turbolaser cannons. Hundreds of low-powered laser beams assaulted the secessionist missiles. Sensing the incoming ordnance, the missiles started to carry out evasive maneuvers. None of the first four managed to dodge what was fired at them. Just one from the second group of missiles did; however, the first salvo of AM missiles from the frigates vaporized it.
“Amateurs,” Davenport said as she shook her head. “They have no idea what they’re up against.”
“Repeat the order for them to surrender,” James requested. As angry as he was at Teal, every ship they destroyed would be killing more Imperial citizens. It brought James no pleasure seeing them die.
