“Anything yet from the frigate screen?” the Admiral asked Commander Kerrs. “Nothing yet, Admiral,” Kerrs replied, studying his holo display.
Admiral Skiffington frowned. There were only two ways for Emperor Chalabi to play this. He could either meet the Victorian fleet well away from the Tilleke home world of Qurna, or could wait until the fleet reached Qurna so that the Tilleke fleet would have the benefit of Qurna’s planetary defenses.
“So, what is the Emperor up to?” he mused out loud.
“Staying close to Qurna’s defenses, I’d wager,” replied Kerrs. “There he can take advantage of minefields, stationary platform defenses and drone weapons.”
Grant Skiffington uneasily recalled Hiram Brill’s comments about the Tilleke gift for doing the unexpected. “Sir, I’ve been told that the Emperor does nothing straightforward. Feints and double feints, trying to confuse his enemy until he does something that leaves him vulnerable.”
His father cast him a sideways glance, then shared a smirk with Commander Kerrs. “Yes, I’m sure you have heard that, Lieutenant, but if he is going to try anything clever, he’ll have to spring it soon, because in nineteen hours we’ll be in missile range of Qurna, and an hour after that we’ll be in orbit.” His voice took on a sarcastic edge. “Tend to your duties, Lieutenant; I believe Commander Kerrs and I have things under control.” Grant felt a flush creep up his cheeks, but said nothing. He wondered what Brill would see if he were looking at the sensors. But he looked again at this father, sitting there calmly, confident, and with good reason. After all, he commanded the most powerful armada in history. What could stop him now?
Thirty minutes later the London’s Sensors Officer looked up in alarm. “Admiral! One of the frigates reports multiple contacts! Eight…no, twelve unknowns coming directly on course from Qurna. High acceleration. ETA forty minutes.”
“Well, launch a recon drone, dammit,” Admiral Skiffington said impatiently. “I want to know if they’re hostile!”
Three minutes ticked by in a tense silence, then the sensor displays blossomed. “Positively identified as Dominion ships, five cruiser size vessels and seven vessels shown as probable heavy destroyers or light cruisers.” The Sensor Officer leaned forward, studying the display intently. “Wait, more coming in. There are a large number of ships behind the Ducks…signs of energy beams.” He straightened. “It looks like the Ducks are being pursued by Tilleke ships, Sir, a lot of them. Thirty or more at first guess, firing lasers at the Ducks.” On the holo display, the incoming Dominion ships were marked as green, while the ships appearing behind them were scarlet red.
Admiral Skiffington sat back, crossed his legs and studied the displays, carefully concealing the sense of relief washing over him. The Tilleke were coming straight in, but he out-numbered them four to one. He nodded in satisfaction.
“Commander Kerrs, message to all units: Prepare for missile launch on hostile forces on my command. Friendly Dominion units are inbound and need to clear the firing zone. End message.
“And order the frigates to return, Commander. They’ll just get chewed up out there. No sense in wasting them.” The Admiral crossed his legs and sat back in his chair.
The sensor display was at odds with the Admiral’s calm demeanor. The Dominion ships were running for their lives, firing missiles and copious amounts of chaff in a desperate attempt to confuse the Tilleke sensors. The green and red dots grew closer. London’s sensors collected enough data to label the DUC ships by type: three energy cruisers, two missile cruisers, four energy destroyers and three missile destroyers. The display showed missiles crisscrossing back and forth, and long lines of light intended to represent laser shots.
The Sensor Officer called out. “One of the destroyers is really getting hammered, Sir. He’s losing propulsion and falling behind the others. He’s not firing any chaff.” The others could see it on the holo display. The other green dots were managing to keep their distance from the red pursuers, but one was slowly losing way, falling further and further behind. The oncoming tide of red lights closed in. A dozen laser beams shot out. The green dot flared briefly, then vanished.
“Must have cracked her bottle, Sir. She’s gone.” The magnetic containment system, or “bottle,” kept the anti-matter isolated and safe. Once the bottle ruptured, the anti-matter would collide with matter and start a chain reaction of explosions, instantly fatal to the ship.
Admiral Skiffington frowned. “Are we in com range yet of the Dominions?”
“Any moment now, Sir.”
A minute later the screen blinked to life, showing a tall, gaunt man on the bridge of a ship, blood dripping down his forehead. He wore the uniform of a Dominion of Unified Citizenry Rear Admiral. Smoke filled the bridge, and in the background men were frantically trying to put out a fire. The lights flickered weakly, casting dark shadows.
“This is Admiral Skiffington of the Victorian Royal Fleet,” Skiffington said brusquely. “To whom am I speaking?”
The Dominion Admiral coughed a long hacking cough that shook his entire frame. Finally he caught his breath. “I am Admiral Oscar Quigley of the Dominion Ship People’s Pride. I am leader of the expeditionary force to assist the Arcadians while transiting Tilleke space. I am very glad to see you, Admiral.” Even as he spoke there was a loud noise and his deck rocked. He threw out a hand to steady himself.
“We can see you are under attack, Admiral,” Skiffington replied. “Can you tell me the status of your forces?”
The Dominion officer nodded. “Three days ago the Tilleke attacked us in force. The Arcadian freighters we were escorting were destroyed, along with several of my destroyers and at least two cruisers. My fleet was forced to scatter. We’ve been trying to withdraw to the wormhole since then.” A look of pain contorted his face. “I don’t…I don’t know where my other ships are, or how many survived.”
“Very well, Admiral,” Skiffington said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure you’ve done your best. I think Victoria can take it from here. Why don’t you have your ships fall in behind us? Once you’ve cleared our firing lanes, we will take care of the Tilleke ships that are chasing you. As soon as we run them off, we’ll provide you with whatever assistance you need.”
Admiral Quigley bowed his head. “Thank you, Admiral.” The com screen went dark.
Admiral Skiffington turned to Captain Kerrs. “Well, I think we got here just in time, don’t you? The bloody Tillies would have made mincemeat out of them long before they reached the wormhole.” He clapped his hands together briskly. “Right! Have Admiral Penn bring her two battle groups to our left flank. I want all six battle groups on line abreast. Maximum coverage! We’re going to throw out a big net and catch them no matter which way they turn.”
“Yes, Admiral,” Kerrs replied, and forwarded the orders.
Admiral Skiffington turned to his son and spoke in a low voice. “Grant, I want you to make sure the recording equipment is working properly. We are about to engage the biggest space battle ever fought. You understand?”
Grant Skiffington nodded. He did understand. This battle was going to make his father the most famous man in the galaxy.
Meanwhile, aboard the People’s Pride, Admiral Quigley accepted a towel from his aide and wiped his face. Around him on the deck were a dozen men and women, all smiling broadly. Quigley nodded to them. “Okay, my little group of amateur thespians, clean up this mess. We’ve got a lot to do in a very short time. Janice, turn on the ventilators and let’s clear this dammed smoke out of here.” In minutes the fires that had been blazing were turned off, the smudge pots capped, the bridge area tidied up, the “blood” and soot wiped up.