The silver fleet the com.., p.17
The Silver Fleet: The Complete Series, page 17
Davitz raised a hand. “What I don’t get is this: if Blackthorn is such a prized asset why are we the only ones here? What can one ship hope to achieve in the face of – what? – A mini battlefleet? Surely, we need to meet the Yakutians head on with over-whelming force. That’s been the navy’s response in the past and it’s worked so far. Shouldn’t we just wait for reinforcements?”
“That’s not an option currently available to us. The concern is that this unknown force is, even now, attacking Blackthorn’s defences. This ‘mini battlefleet’ you’re talking about is far too small to launch a full-scale ground invasion but, if they work it right, they are capable of cutting of the whole Allegra system. All they’d have to do is blockade the gate.”
This came as a shock to Webster and, by the look of their reactions, to the rest of the other officers present. It was such an elegantly simple idea he wondered why he hadn’t seen it sooner.
“Mr Webster,” Faulkner was saying. “If you were in charge of this ‘battlefleet’ what would your first move be?”
Webster took a deep breath as the attention of the room shifted in his direction and he tried to recall what he’d learned in his Geopolitics lessons.
“Er, well, initially I’d want to cut them off from outside help so I suppose I’d take out their communication satellites. Then destroy any emergency drones they tried to get away. Next, I suppose, I’d target their infrastructure with some kind of aerial bombardment.”
“And then?”
“Once I’d shown them I meant business, I’d back off a little. Perhaps send down some troops to overrun key positions but nothing too heavy – just to get some boots on the ground. Then I’d get them to set up an interim government that would be friendly to my interests. Yes, I think that would do for starters.”
“Excellent,” Faulkner nodded his agreement. “These hostiles aren’t expecting much in the way of opposition so it’s our job to make them think again. We can’t hope to provide full defensive coverage for Blackthorn but we can prevent the enemy from getting a toehold on Iscaria, the planet Blackthorn is in orbit around. We need to ensure that they don’t set up a forward operating base on the surface.”
Barrios’ eyebrows went up at this. “Are we talking about actively engaging these ‘hostiles’, captain.”
“Look, we don’t have enough ships to slug it out with them, if that’s what you mean. But if they decide to attack Blackthorn or any of its dependents then yes, that’s what we’ll do.”
The officers shifted excitedly in their seats. They’d been preparing for an eventuality like this for most of their adult lives.
“A cruiser of our size should be able to use aggressive tactics to ensure that they don’t succeed in a targeting the major population areas from orbit. We are to block any troop carriers that the enemy may attempt to land on the planet, along with any equipment they’ve brought with them. That’ll probably be our smartest move because it’s unlikely that they’ll have brought any back-up equipment with them. Major Mackie and his men will no doubt be able to provide support in that regard.”
Mackie, who hadn’t said anything so far, was reclining in an old leather armchair. It was one of the few items to have survived from the original ship’s manifest. He raised two fingers in acknowledgement.
“It would be our pleasure, sir.”
“In short, it will be up to us to take our opportunities to prevent these hostiles from establishing themselves in the Allegra system. So, if there are no other questions…”
“What about reinforcements?” Davitz asked.
Faulkner considered this. “At this moment I have no clear idea when we might reasonably expect to be reinforced.”
Davitz shook his head disdainfully. “No, sir. I don’t mean us, I mean them. If they’re intending to settle the planet like you say, that’s going to take a huge commitment in both ground troops and ships. An overwhelming show of force, if you will. When would you expect that to arrive?”
It was a good question and one which quickly drained the room of any geniality. Faulkner looked at Webster who just shrugged.
“I haven’t had time to look into that,” he said.
Faulkner tried to wave Davitz’ objection away, “We’ll deal with that when we come to it.”
The meeting broke up then with some officers heading off to their stations while others headed to their bunks.
Faulkner approached Webster looking pensive. “I wonder if you might ask Chief Davitz to stay behind.”
Davitz was getting his things together but, when asked, went straight over to speak with Faulkner. Webster hung back.
“Is there a problem, captain?” Davitz asked.
“I’m not sure. That’s what I’m trying to find out. Walk with me for a moment.”
The pair set off in the direction of the bridge with Webster following on behind.
Davitz said. “Are you talking about my question?”
“No, I’m talking about your engines.”
Davitz thumbed his nose. “I see. What would you like to know?”
“As I said, we’re exiting the Henrietta Gate in a little over eight hours. We don’t know precisely what situation we’ll be facing but it will invariably be hostile. I need to know what I can expect from you.”
“Have you not had a copy of my report?”
“Indeed I have, although I wouldn’t call it a report, more an endless list of data; all 147 pages of it.”
“I pride myself on my attention to detail, captain.”
“It’s a shame that you don’t pride yourself on conciseness. That report is useless to me, as you are well aware. All I know is that our engines have not operated at anywhere near one hundred percent capacity since we started this tour and I have only the vaguest of ideas as to why. In short, you have attempted to swamp me with useless information …”
“Sir, that information is not useless …”
“It is to me, Mr Davitz. I am aware that you are very busy man as indeed are most of the officers in my charge but that does not allow you to flaunt my orders. I need a clear assessment of those engines and their capabilities and I need it now.”
They walked on in silence. Two female crew stopped to salute but Faulkner barely noticed them.
“And if I’m unable to provide that information?”
Faulkner glanced over his shoulder. “Mr Webster, what was your specialism when you were at the Academy?”
Webster could sense a trap but couldn’t think of a way of avoiding it.
“Mechanical engineering, sir.”
“I would be happy to send my executive officer down to Engineering to assist you. He could over-see things while you take the time to finish your report.”
“I’m not sure that would be such a good idea, sir.”
“And neither am I, but I’ll do it if I have to. Of course, there is a simpler solution.”
Faulkner turned and indicated for Webster to pass him his tablet and a stylus. He divided the screen into four rectangles and labelled them Engine 1 through to 4.
Then, he passed the tablet and stylus to Davitz.
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
The stylus looked ridiculously small in Davitz’s great fist but he bent quickly to his task and, when he’d finished, he handed the tablet back to Faulkner.
1 – 93%
2 – 76%
3 – 38%
4 - ?
Faulkner studied the fourth box.
“That bad, eh?”
Davitz rolled his head back and flared his nostrils.
“I wish it were better news, sir, but we’ve tried everything. The fourth engine should work fine but she doesn’t. She’s totally unreliable. It’s some kind of fault that we just can’t isolate.”
Davitz’ voice had lost its belligerent edge and he looked very, very tired. Suddenly, Webster understood: Davitz wasn’t being difficult just for the sake of it. He was embarrassed because he had been unable to fix the problem and that clearly bothered him.
“The thing is, sir, without a reliable fourth engine we’re always going to be compromised in terms of power out-put. My worry is that when you ask for full power the whole system’s going to shut down and we’ll be left sitting there unable to do anything.”
“I see,” Faulkner said. “And that’s our main problem. Anything you can do to try and fix it?”
“We could strip it all down and start over again, sir.”
“And could you do that before we exit the gate in eight hours’ time?”
“We can try, sir.”
“That’s all I can ask, Chief.”
*
Faulkner sat in the command chair watching the smoky half-light of N-Space drift past one of the side observation blisters. He had ordered their speed to be reduced to a minimum. They were approaching the gate and, while he had every confidence in his helmsman’s capabilities, he didn’t want any slip-ups at this point. If they were even to touch the wall of the tunnel they were passing through, the consequences could prove disastrous. At the very best, the Mantis would be crippled, at worst, she would be torn apart atom by atom.
Of course, logic told him that the mainframe would never allow such a thing to happen. The computers would automatically compensate for any errors the helmsman might make, ensuring that Faulkner and his crew arrived safely at their destination. That was if everything went to plan. But they wouldn’t be the first crew who had ventured into N-Space never to return.
The Mantis had been built for long-distance patrols at a time before shields were fitted as standard and armour had been the priority. Her design was big and bold but as a result she could be notoriously slow to respond. To compensate for this she had a series of jets and miniature thrusters built into her hull to provide extra manoeuvrability and Faulkner felt them now as they fired in concert.
This triggered a klaxon which sounded somewhere off in the background, warning them that they were veering offline.
“The missile cluster is preparing to leave N- space,” the Comms officer said.
What went unsaid was that this was the last opportunity they’d have to disarm it.
“Carry on,” Faulkner said.
Because there was no way of sending or receiving a signal once you were inside N-space, they would be exiting the gate blind to whatever might be waiting for them on the other side. There were various ways captains could give themselves an extra sense of security. Usually, these amounted to sending out a fighter or two beforehand, a tricky manoeuvre but not impossible. It was a technique Faulkner didn’t subscribe to however, his thinking being that if the enemy were waiting in their massed ranks they would make short work of any fighters that might come their way.
Another method was to send out a mine sweeper. It was difficult, though not impossible, to lay loiter mines around the gate entrance but it was inefficient and expensive. However, if you had a fair idea when your opponent might be arriving - it could be done. Over time, the mines would invariably drift out of position, becoming a danger to all shipping.
Faulkner’s solution to this problem was to send a missile package out through the gate first. The cluster would remain inactive unless someone was foolish enough to fire upon it. At this point, the package would come to life, launching its ordnance directly at those who had targeted it. The thinking was that this opening salvo would provide enough of a distraction to cover the transition of the Mantis into real space.
Faulkner had used the technique only once before and with mixed results, but that had been over twenty years ago and the technology surrounding autonomous weapons systems had come a long way since then. The one reason that he favoured the idea was its cost effectiveness. If there was nothing nasty on the other side then the package could be retrieved and all the ordnance put aside for later use.
“Package away, sir,” Tactical informed him.
Faulkner looked over at Webster who was standing in his usual place, off to his right.
“Let’s hope we’re just being overly cautious.”
“I hope so, sir.”
“Any news from engineering?”
“Last thing I heard they had the drive back in one piece and were attempting to re-install it. That was over an hour ago.”
Faulkner nodded. Impressive though that was, he refused to get excited. If they were too late arriving then all of this would have been for nothing. The hostile battlefleet would have breached Blackthorn’s defences and it would all be over, with the government surrendering their authority to the invaders. It was a depressing thought but sometimes you just had to accept the inevitable.
He said, “What do you suppose Admiral Paige was thinking of? Sending us out here on our own like this. Davitz was right earlier. The navy always waits until they’ve achieved overwhelming strength before committing themselves and here we are trying to prove the exact opposite.”
“I’m sure the admiral has his reasons, sir.”
“C’mon, we’re not in the Admiralty clubhouse now,” he beckoned Webster over. “We’re not going to get very far if we can’t speak more openly with one another. Please – I’d like to hear your thoughts on the matter.”
Webster rubbed his chin. He looked perplexed.
“When I was a teenager, my dad was away a lot of the time and my mum had to work. So, after school, I used to go to my grandfather’s house and he’d sometimes get his chess set out. I was pretty good, or so I thought. Looking back, he was obviously letting me win a lot of the time. I was pretty impetuous so it was always: attack, attack, attack. Anyway, my grandfather took to setting me up in different ‘plays’ - see how I’d react. The most obvious one was where he’d sacrifice a pawn as his opening move. I couldn’t resist. Took it every time. Problem was that in doing so, I’d be opening myself up so that he could more easily target my king. And that changed the whole game. Unless I managed to fend off the attacks on my king, chances are I’d lose. Essentially, once I’d committed myself to taking that pawn the game was already over.”
Faulkner sighed, he’d never been much of a chess player himself.
“And what does that have to do with our current situation? I don’t see our opponent offering up any easy kills.”
The two men regarded one another. Faulkner hadn’t meant to sound so irritable - he was just impatient to get things underway. But Webster wasn’t finished.
“I’m not talking about them, sir. I’m talking about us. We are the sacrificial pawn. Paige is a career officer, always has been, and that makes him dangerous both to the enemy and to ourselves. As long as the Confederation refuses to sanction moving us to a war footing, his hands are tied. Sending a large fleet to Blackthorn’s aid wouldn’t suit his goals either. Chances are that would only succeed in making this new opponent back off. And that’s not what he wants. He needs this conflict to escalate if he’s going to have any chance of making a name for himself. And, if he has to sacrifice one of his ships to do it then that’s what he’ll do. He wants to see the Mantis destroyed more as a symbol than anything else. Because he knows that’ll tip the Confederation over into a war footing.”
“And what about the Yakutians? You really think they’re behind all this?”
“I certainly hope so.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because the alternative is too frightening to contemplate,” Webster said. “The idea of facing some unknown enemy gifted with enormous resources and a technological advantage we can’t hope to compete with, well, that’s a terrifying thought.”
*
An icon on Faulkner’s armrest started blinking. They’d allowed themselves to get distracted. One of the bridge crew was trying to contact them.
“Helmsman. Is there a problem?”
“Just to advise you that we’re about to exit the Henrietta Gate and are awaiting your orders.”
Once they began the process of transitioning they would be totally committed. Faulkner felt a moment of alarm at the thought of it. They were relying almost totally on his instincts now and he hoped that, after all this time, they weren’t about to fail him.
Faulkner addressed the bridge.
“Anyone heard from Engineering?” this was greeted by a sea of shaking heads. “Comms, put me through.”
After a few seconds, Chief Davitz came on-line.
“I was just about to call you, sir.”
“How’s that engine looking?”
“So far so good. The strip-down went very smoothly but we had the devil’s own time getting her set up again.”
“But she’s looking good?”
“She’s responded well to all our diagnostic tests. There’s nothing to suggest that there’s going to be a problem.”
“Well, that’s good at least.”
There was a hesitation on the other end.
“Except that’s exactly what happened last time. Like I said: it’s an intermittent fault. She should be okay, but …”
“But you won’t know for sure until she’s fully tested.”
Faulkner’s frustration with the situation was coming through in his voice. Davitz had the good sense not to respond.
“Okay,” Faulkner said. “How long is this going to take?”
“Well, normally you’re talking a couple of days for a full trial…” Davitz must have sensed that he was pushing his luck. The next time he spoke he was more direct. “But we should be able to let you know for sure in about six hours.”
“We’re in an extremely fluid situation here, Mr Davitz. You’ve got three.”
He broke the transmission and turned to Lieutenant Yamada who’d just come on duty. “I want all comms stations on high alert. In fact, extend that to all tactical systems.”
“All systems, aye, sir,” Yamada’s hands flew over his console, he appeared to be enjoying himself. “Full alert. Battle stations. I repeat: Battle stations.”
