Christopher Nuttall - Barbarians at the Gates

“We’ll do what we can,” he said tightly. It was a pity there was no way to claim the industrial nodes for the Federation Navy, but that was outside his control. At least the workers would be safe. They’d be needed to run the industrial nodes once they’d been captured. “In the meantime…”

He turned back to the display, stroking his chin in the hopes of conveying an expression of deep thought. It might stop the commissioner from interrupting Marius before he was ready to outline his tactical plan. The Lombardi System had once been a worthless system with one tiny gas giant and four rocky and lifeless worlds orbiting a bright star. The Federation Navy had somehow been convinced—Marius suspected by enormous bribes—to test the latest planet-cracking antimatter bombs on the four useless worlds. The bombs had worked as specified; all four planets had been blown into clouds of asteroids, which had been mined to help supply the sector with the rare ores that were normally only found deep under a planet’s surface.

Every space entertainment vid he’d seen as a young man had featured an implausible asteroid belt that forced starfighter pilots to dodge like maniacs as they raced through the asteroid field at maximum speed. Such asteroid fields were rare in real life, but the remains of the four worlds would make for tricky flying, even for superdreadnaughts. He preferred to remain well away from the asteroids as long as possible. As well as having to deal with the asteroids themselves, there was also the possibility of ambush, as it was very difficult to differentiate a starship from an asteroid when all drives, weapons and sensors were shut down.

Fortunately, it looked as if his fleet was going to encounter the enemy fleet well below the system plane, away from the asteroids, unless the enemy decided to avoid action.

He scowled. The irony was that he could break loose and cross interstellar space to Harmony, but the enemy would follow him at once. If the Grand Fleet lost there, it would be the end of them, and probably would spell the end of the Federation into the bargain. On the other hand, if he smashed the enemy fleet now—especially considering that Admiral Justinian couldn’t be keeping many starships in reserve—the war would be as good as won. And then the Federation could mop up the other warlords and restore peace and harmony to the universe.

“Inform the fleet that I want to slip into Formation Omega-Nine when we approach,” he ordered after a long pause. “We will start by launching starfighter strikes, and then we will follow them up with the new gunboats. We’ll weaken the enemy ships before we close with them.”

“It sounds impressive,” Williams said, “but can we win?”

“War is a democracy, Commissioner,” Marius said, shrugging. “The enemy gets a vote, too.”

“We’re too late,” Caitlin said.

“It looks that way,” Admiral Justinian agreed.

Caitlin was pleased to note that the admiral sounded much more confident now that he’d finally come to grips with the enemy. The Federation Navy had beaten them to Lombardi, which meant that they couldn’t be allowed to leave the system. It wouldn’t be an easy contest, but it would be decisive.

“Launch probes towards the enemy ships and prepare for engagement,” the admiral ordered.

Caitlin followed his gaze as he turned to study the main display. The Federation Navy was too far away for them to track properly, even using gravimetric sensors. She wished, suddenly, for the StarCom trick they’d used once in Jefferson, but not even throwing money at the researchers had allowed them to build a smaller and cheaper system. FTL communications, even on a tactical level, remained largely a pipe dream.

The only good news was that the Federation Navy was definitely aiming to engage Justinian’s ships, rather than heading toward Harmony or even charging at the Asimov Point and attempting to secure it. They wouldn’t have to worry about the enemy refusing battle, although the darker part of her mind whispered that was the least of their worries.

On the other hand, the Federation Navy might win the coming battle…and that would be the end. For her, as well as for the fleet.

Caitlin had no illusions about her fate. She’d allowed Admiral Justinian to lead her into treason and, if the Federation won, she’d be on the wrong side of the war—the one that lost. She still believed that Admiral Justinian was right, that the Senate was corrupt and power-hungry. Eventually, the Senate itself would tear the Federation apart—but that hardly mattered. If they lost, she’d never see a universe without the Federation Senate.

“Aye, sir,” she said finally. “Should we prepare a fallback plan?”

“No need,” Admiral Justinian assured her. He sounded remarkably cheerful. “We live or die today.”

Roman felt—again—the absurd urge to whisper as the enemy fleet swept towards Midway . The tracks shown on the main display suggested that Justinian’s fleet would pass far too close to Midway , close enough for Justinian’s ships’ passive sensors to pick up his own ship, if the opposition was lucky. The cloaking device emitted a tiny level of turbulence, after all, and the enemy might well detect their presence. And if that happened, Roman would have to be very lucky and skilful to get his ship away before the enemy blew her into dust.

“One hundred and seventeen superdreadnaughts,” the sensor officer said. His voice was very low, as if he could avoid being overheard. “Seventy carriers of various designs. Two hundred heavy cruisers, including some that seem to be of a new class we haven’t logged before. Four hundred destroyers, and over a thousand gunboats. That’s enough firepower to punch out the defenses of pretty much any star system apart from Earth.”

“Log it and transmit the data back to Magnificent ,” Roman ordered. The laser beams they used for communication were impossible to detect unless a starship accidentally crossed the beam’s path, something that was very unlikely. “Are they trying to use ECM to fool us into believing that they’re stronger than they actually are?”

“They have some fuzzy ECM up and running,” the sensor officer said slowly. “The level of drive turbulence matches the ship count, however, which suggests that the count is fairly accurate.”

Roman winced. All drive fields emitted a certain amount of gravimetric distortion, allowing a starship’s class to be determined even outside active sensor range. A superdreadnaught couldn’t pretend to be a destroyer without some fairly radical and expensive drive modifications, but the reverse was an easy task. A destroyer could pretend to be a superdreadnaught and get away with it, provided no one scanned the ship with active sensors. But an active sensor scan would reveal the truth very quickly—and reveal the ship scanning them very quickly as well.

Roman couldn’t risk that, not so close to the enemy fleet.

“Update the transmission with that information,” he ordered. One way or another, Admiral Drake had to have that data. “And then…”

He broke off as the tactical console sounded the alert.

“They just saw us,” the tactical officer reported. “They swept us with targeting sensors and locked on to the hull.”

Roman swallowed a curse. “Helm, swing us around and get us out of here. Tactical, deploy ECM drones to confuse them; set them to maximum power, now!”

Midway’s internal gravity shivered as the starship spun around and accelerated away from the enemy fleet. Unlike a ponderous superdreadnaught, Midway could accelerate at an astonishing rate; nothing larger than a starfighter or a gunboat could hope to catch her if she had a reasonable head start.