Christopher Nuttall - Democracy's Light

“Aye, Admiral,” the communications officer said. The recon destroyers had been orbiting up above the gravity shadow. Arun hoped — prayed, to gods he no longer really believed in — that they would be able to slip in and out unmolested, but if the enemy were alert, they might manage to catch the destroyers before they could flicker out. “They’re on their way.”

Arun nodded grimly as two icons vanished from the display, appearing a moment later near Mars, trying to remain close enough to the enemy fleet to see through the haze of ECM covering them while remaining out of weapons range. It wasn’t going to be easy, but destroyer skippers were used to such risks. If it could be done, they would do it.

We used to use the Freebooters to recon systems , he thought, grimly. He had barely known Daria and couldn’t say that he was affected by her actual identity, but losing the Freebooters was a shock. Who did he use to recon the system… or did he jump in without bothering with recon first?

“Get me a direct link to the command fortress, secure line,” he ordered. He had to confer with Colin. Knowingly or otherwise, whoever was commanding that massive fleet had placed them in a hell of a blind. They had an obligation to defend Mars, but honouring that obligation would leave Earth’s defences dependent on the fixed defences. It might not have been such a danger without the threat of Geek-level technology in enemy hands, including long-range multiple warhead missiles and other unpleasant surprises. “Colin, we need to talk.”

The direct link was secure. No one could hear them. “I know,” Colin said. There was a grim note in his voice as well. He was as capable as Arun at working out the possible consequences of either rushing to Mars’s rescue or abandoning it to its fate. “We don’t have a choice, but to make an attempt to drive them away from Mars.”

“Yes, sir,” Arun echoed. Colin was right. There were over five billion people on Mars, including the terraformed surface and the orbital habitats, and they had a responsibility to protect them. Imperial Navy or Shadow Fleet, they had that shared responsibility… and they would not leave civilians behind if they could help it. “I’ll start the movements now.”

“Good luck,” Colin said. His voice faded slightly. “I wish I was with you.”

The surviving recon destroyer flickered back into existence. “Admiral, we’re getting a download now,” the tactical officer said. The display updated rapidly with the destroyer’s sensor readings, finally pasting shape and form on the enemy fleet. It was larger than he had anticipated, with nine squadrons of superdreadnaughts and hundreds of smaller ships. Admiral Wilhelm had finally come calling. “I confirm the presence of several ships that took part in the Battle of Cottbus…”

“It’s Admiral Wilhelm,” Arun said, to Colin. It wasn’t a surprise, but somehow he had a nasty feeling that he knew exactly what Daria had in mind, if she did indeed have a fleet of her own. He knew from experience how hard it was to operate any kind of plan over such a timescale, but her plan had worked out fine so far, even if something had gone badly wrong. It hadn’t proved fatal to her. “Do you still want us to engage?”

Colin nodded tiredly. “Yes, Arun,” he said. “If he comes here, we have a few surprises in store for him.”

Arun nodded and broke the connection. “Helm, take us out of the gravity shadow,” he ordered. They were close enough to Earth for its gravity shadow to impede sensor readings, but Admiral Wilhelm would definitely see them as they rose up and prepared to flicker into engagement range. He had eighty-one superdreadnaughts, while Arun had seventy-two, but half of them were Independence -class ships. The Shadow Fleet also had the latest arsenal ships and several other surprises, even if Colin had insisted on keeping some of them back for a later reveal. It was going to be a far more evenly matched battle than Admiral Wilhelm probably supposed.

“Aye, sir,” the helmsman said. On the display, the Shadow Fleet was rising out of high orbit, leaving the massive defence stations and orbiting asteroids behind as it strove for space. They were in good hands — Colin had had the entire system renovated after the Fall of Earth — but Arun still worried about them. Defending a fixed and effectively stationary target such as a planet was much harder than defending a starship, or even an asteroid. Colin had proven that Earth was far from invulnerable… and Admiral Wilhelm had probably studied the records of the battle with the greatest interest. “We will be out of the gravity shadow in seven minutes.”

Arun took a decision. “Override the safety protocols,” he ordered, tightly. “Get us out of the shadow as quickly as possible.”

The superdreadnaught hummed louder as safety protocols were discarded, allowing the superdreadnaught to speed up, although it wouldn’t be able to reach its maximum speed. The Imperial Navy had speed limits for any starship in orbit around a planet, just to limit the possibility of disaster, although Arun knew that most commercial spacers mocked the precautions. The Imperial Navy didn’t. An object the size of a superdreadnaught crashing down on a planet would have results almost as disastrous as a scorching.

“Revised time estimate,” the helmsman said. “Two minutes to the edge of the gravity shadow.”

“Good,” Arun said. The superdreadnaught couldn’t build up speed rapidly. It was just too massive, even for its prodigious power plant, for a drive field to push it along any faster. They couldn’t afford risking a drive field collapse. “Contact the fleet. I want coordinates for a least-time hop to Mars ready and waiting when we leave the gravity shadow.”

“They’re on their way,” the tactical officer said. Admiral Wilhelm looked up from where he had been admiring the view of Mars, a strange orb with a mixture of red, blue and green colours. Humanity had terraformed Mars long before the flicker drive had been invented and the planet now hosted more people than Earth, or even the remainder of the solar system. They resented, heavily, their permanent subordination to Earth. They might even make allies once he had won the war. “Their fleet is definitely moving out of the gravity shadow and up to a point where they can flicker out to engage us.”

“Exactly as I anticipated,” Admiral Wilhelm said. He looked down at the display for a long moment, running through the vectors in his head. The Imperial Navy ships wouldn’t have risked everything for Mars, but they couldn’t have allowed him to remain where he was indefinitely, not unless they wanted to shut Mars’s industries down permanently. They couldn’t get anything from Jupiter or outside the solar system as long as he held the space just outside the Martian gravity shadow. The presence of two moons, even through they were much smaller than Earth’s moon, had their own effect on the gravity shadow. “How long until they can flicker out?”

“Two minutes,” the tactical officer said. “They’re disregarding the speed limits.”

“Someone’s got an imagination over there,” Captain Keene said. Admiral Wilhelm snorted rudely. The hell of it was that Captain Keene was probably right. The Imperial Navy hadn’t encouraged that sort of initiative from its officers, even when it was clearly necessary. An officer with imagination was an officer who could imagine life without his incompetent superiors… with, ideally, himself in charge. “Do you still want to go with Plan Alpha?”

“Yes,” Admiral Wilhelm said. Plan Alpha was risky as hell, but it offered the greatest chance of winning the battle outright. They couldn’t afford a long drawn-out siege. “Helm, bring up the Plan Alpha flight path and upload it to the fleet.” He paused. “Flicker.”