Christopher Nuttall - Democracy's Might

She stepped through the hatch and onto the command deck, ignoring the Marine’s salute as she stared at the display. A handful of red icons had appeared, several million kilometres from the outer edge of engagement range. She didn’t need more than a moment to identify the ships as rebel, even though they were Imperial Navy designs. The drive fields were very definitely ships that were known to have fallen into rebel hands.

“Admiral,” her XO said. “I’ve sounded battlestations; the entire defence network is coming online…”

“Good,” Ravi said, when he had finished. At least the rebels were giving them time to prepare, although it was odd. Did they think they could bluff her into surrendering? Some of the reports from her spy ships had suggested just that, although none of the other targeted systems had been so heavily defended. “Launch one courier boat to Morrison, then send two more out under stealth. I want them to have a full report of what happens next.”

“Understood, Admiral,” the XO said. “I’ll see to it at once.”

Ravi settled back in her command chair as the rebels altered course, slowly manoeuvring towards the planet. It was odd; they could have moved quicker, particularly if they wanted to catch her on the hoof. Or were they confident that they could still take the defences, even though she had plenty of time to prepare? Or did they have a secret weapon up their sleeves?

Her lips quirked. Used properly, the arsenal ships could inflict terrifying damage on her defences… and they were no secret, not any longer.

“I’m picking up a message, Admiral,” the communications officer said. “They’re beaming it all over the system.”

“Let’s hear it,” Ravi said.

The communications officer tapped a switch. “…Is Admiral Walker of the Shadow Fleet, representing the Popular Front. You are outnumbered and outgunned. Surrender your installations now and we pledge that no harm will come to you. Those of you who wish to return to the Empire will be permitted to do so, those of you who wish to remain neutral will be shipped to a comfortable holding camp where you can wait out the conflict. Any of you who wish to join us will be welcome. You have thirty minutes to decide.”

Ravi’s eyes narrowed. Thirty minutes was uncommonly generous, all the more so as she would have ample time to prepare for war. Her starships were already forming up near the fortresses, linking their point defence systems into the far wider network of automated platforms she’d rushed into deployment. If they did choose to throw a missile swarm at her, she was confident she could weaken it long before the missiles slammed into their targets.

“No reply,” she ordered, as the enemy fleet slowed to a halt, relative to Tyson itself. “Keep deploying ECM drones and other countermeasures.”

Colin wasn’t looking forward to coming to grips with Tyson’s defences. They were tougher than pre-war data had suggested, while the enemy CO had scattered countless automated platforms in orbit around the planet. If it wasn’t for the shipyard and industrial nodes — and the starships, of course — he would have simply bypassed the planet altogether. Instead, he had to destroy its ability to impede his operations.

Devious bastard , he thought, wondering just who was in command of the defences. The intelligence probes hadn’t been able to answer that question. We can’t leave you alone and you can gnaw us properly while we’re smashing you into rubble .

“No response, sir,” the communications officer said.

Colin scowled. Most of the defenders who had surrendered without firing a shot had known they were badly outgunned — and that their superiors had abandoned them. Whoever was in charge of Tyson was clearly made of different mettle. He or she had had the wit to organise a defence, using all the resources built up in the system. Colin had no doubt that his forces could destroy the defences, followed rapidly by the industrial nodes if they couldn’t be taken intact, but it would be costly.

“Repeat the message,” he ordered. “And then we’ll let them have their thirty minutes.”

It was possible, he told himself, that there were mutineers on the stations, just waiting for a chance to take control. But somehow he doubted it. The enemy CO wouldn’t have overlooked such an obvious possibility, even though Tyson was hardly a hardship posting. There would be Marines on the stations, holding them against all comers. No, he couldn’t count on anything, but brute force.

He watched the timer ticking down to zero as his fleet settled into formation. It did give the sensor staff time to locate every last automated platform, he decided, but there were few other advantages. If he couldn’t intimidate the enemy commander into surrendering…

“The timer has reached zero, sir,” the tactical officer said.

Colin gave him a sharp look, then nodded. “Take us forward,” he ordered. They’d planned the attack out time and time again, yet no battle plan ever survived contact with the enemy. He would just have to hope that he was the equal of whoever was in command on the other side. “And prepare to open fire as soon as we reach missile range.”

There was one great advantage to attacking fortresses, he reminded himself as the fleet started to inch forwards, locking weapons on targets. They couldn’t run and they couldn’t hide. And, by keeping the starships down in the gravity shadow, the enemy commander had ensured that they couldn’t run either. If nothing else, the first barrage would inflict considerable damage on defenders who couldn’t really fire back without knowing Colin’s fleet could evade their missiles.

“Entering missile range, sir,” the tactical officer said. “Missiles locked, ready to fire; defence grid armed, ready to fire.”

“Fire,” Colin ordered.

General Montgomery shuddered as she unleashed her external racks, followed rapidly by her missile tubes. Thousands of missiles blazed out into space, followed rapidly by missiles from the other superdreadnaughts and the arsenal ships. It was a colossal sledgehammer, almost irresistible… and the enemy defenders would have plenty of time to see it coming. They just wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, Colin hoped. But they’d also had plenty of warning about the arsenal ships.

He kept one eye on the live feed from the missiles as the enemy fortresses began to fire back, expending their own external racks. The Geeks had vastly improved the seeker heads used by the missiles, ensuring that their accuracy was better and they could even select a new target if their first one was destroyed before they struck home. They hadn’t yet solved the problem of extending powered flight, but Salgak had promised that it would be solved, sooner or later. Now they had access to the vast resources the Roosevelt Family had moved to Sector 117, the Geeks had grand plans for the future.

Assuming they survive , Colin thought, coldly. There was something odd about the enemy missiles, something that nagged at his mind. It struck him a moment later; they’d emptied their external racks, but they hadn’t fired their missile tubes. Why? They’d know better than to withhold the external racks — a single direct hit could wipe out the missiles before they were even fired — yet they should have fired their inner tubes too. It made no sense.

Ravi had to fight down an urge to panic as she saw the sheer weight of missiles powering their way towards her fortresses. There were so many missiles that even the most advantaged tactical sensors in the Empire had real problems separating one from another, something that would make it harder to target her point defence on specific missiles. But she did have her planned countermeasure, as well as her enhanced point defence. It probably wouldn’t work twice, she told herself, but it would give her a fighting chance.