Cain was silent for a few seconds. While he understood the problem and empathized with the naval officers who were going to have to deal with it, he couldn’t keep himself from wondering what implications this new technology had regarding ground combat. Whatever those were, they were going to be his problem. His…and Holm’s and Jax’s and the rest of the Marines’. “How about the warhead yields?”
“A good portion of them were in the 3-7 gigaton range. Again, the same as Northstar originally reported.” There was no surprise in her voice; neither she nor Cain had expected anything different.
“Antimatter.” Cain was not a physicist, but six years of education during basic training plus all the courses at the Academy had given him enough of working knowledge to understand the potential power of antimatter weapons and drives.
West nodded. “It’s the only thing that can possibly explain those thrust capacities. Not to mention the warhead yields.” Her expression brightened slightly. “There is some good news as well…or at least potentially good.”
Cain looked across the table expectantly. “Well, we could certainly use some. What is it?”
“There were two waves of missiles, and the second group exhibited sharply lower thrust rates.” She paused, trying to decide how much of her conjecture she should share. “This is pure guesswork, but maybe they have a limited supply of the better weapons…the antimatter ones.”
Cain nodded slightly, but he didn’t answer right away. What she said made sense…antimatter was difficult to produce and store, and it was highly plausible that these ships only carried a certain amount. But his training, like West’s, had repeatedly warned against relying on wild guesses. They needed hard data, and a lot more of it, before they could even begin to guess how much antimatter-powered weaponry these ships carried.
West looked at Cain, reading his mind. “I know, I know. I’m taking a leap here. But we have so little to go on, Erik. I’m afraid we’re going to have to rely on our gut instincts in this fight.”
Cain nodded slightly, but he was silent. He was looking across the table at West, but he wasn’t seeing her – his mind was elsewhere.
West sat quietly for a minute, but when Cain remained lost in thought she spoke softly. “What is it, Erik?” She watched him for a few seconds, but when he didn’t respond she added, “What are you thinking about?”
He hesitated another few seconds before his focus returned to her. “I was just wondering what kinds of ground capabilities these attackers are likely to have.” He paused, but his eyes remained fixed on hers. “Whatever they are, I’m going to have to figure how to meet them.”
“Yes.” West spoke slowly, softly. “At least we have some intel on the space combat systems we’re likely to face. We’re totally blind on their ground forces.” She leaned back in her chair, but her gaze didn’t waver from his. There was something else on his mind; she was certain. “There’s more, isn’t there Erik?”
Cain shifted in his chair and took a deep breath. He stared at her wordlessly for half a minute before he said anything. “I was just thinking…” His voice was soft and calm, but there was an undercurrent there too. Concern, worry…maybe even fear. “It’s looking like these weapons are real, and I have a hard time buying the fact that one of the Superpowers made this kind of advance in total secrecy.”
She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. He was afraid…and that scared her more than anything she’d seen in a career full of combat and strife. “No.” She forced back a shiver. She was a veteran admiral, and she wasn’t going to let herself be overcome by fear. But she’d never seen Cain so nervous. “I can’t imagine how any of them could have managed that.”
Cain looked right at her, his blue eyes wide open. “That leaves us with one other question.” He sat frozen, barely even blinking. “Who the hell are these guys?”
Chapter 12
Gavin Stark sat behind his desk in near darkness, the only light in the room coming through the windows from the nearby towers. There was a glass full of very expensive Scotch sitting untouched next to him. He stared out at the Washbalt skyline, but he wasn’t really seeing anything. His mind was focused on his recent frustrations, and his thoughts were dark.
The rebellions had turned into a complete disaster for Stark. It was bad enough to be forced into accepting the Confederation Agreement, but he had also seen all his carefully assembled military assets destroyed. The Marines had beaten off all his strike forces, despite being surprised and low on supplies. He’d underestimated those damnable Marines again, and he’d paid the price for his arrogance. Now the Corps was less accountable than ever before, though at least its power and combat readiness were reduced. The Marines would have their hands full protecting the Alliance colonies from the other Powers. Stark would have time to prepare before they became a major threat to him again.
Even worse than the situation with the Corps, Augustus Garret had aggressively hunted down and destroyed every ship Stark had managed to seize from the Strategic Reserve. Millions of tons of warships were destroyed and all the crews Stark had carefully assembled were wiped out. Garret had refused any surrenders or negotiated agreements…he’d outright forbidden any communications at all with the target vessels. Stark’s kidnapping plan had backfired, and he’d turned the naval commander into a blood enemy and a raging paranoid. Augustus Garret had become more dangerous than ever, and now he was unpredictable as well. But just like the Marines, Garret’s navy was struggling to cover its basic defensive obligations with its remaining force. Augustus Garret hated Stark, but he didn’t have the time or resources to do anything about it right now. Again, Stark had time.
The Garret kidnapping had remained a secret at least, the admiral no more willing than Stark to publicize what he considered embarrassing carelessness on his own part. Garret had discussed the matter with General Holm and Admiral Compton, and they all agreed…without proof he’d just look like a madman making wild accusations.
However the loss of so many warships couldn’t be hidden, and Stark had to answer a lot of questions from the highest levels. Only his massive storehouse of dirty secrets – and his willingness to utilize targeted assassinations – had enabled him to survive as head of Alliance Intelligence. One Senator in particular, who’d been determined to see Stark removed from his post and prosecuted, had gone missing without a trace. Stark smiled when he thought about the pompous windbag. No one was going to find the fool; that much he knew for sure.
But Gavin Stark wasn’t one to brood over dashed hopes. He still had a number of plans, and he was determined to see them to fruition. But now he had another problem. Something was going on out on the Rim, and Stark had absolutely no idea what. Whichever power was attacking Alliance frontier worlds, Stark’s organization was completely in the dark. How, he wondered, was it possible for one of the Superpowers to take such a quantum leap in technology without his people even hearing about it? He had spies and double agents everywhere…it just couldn’t be.
Yet the reality was unavoidable. Sol was far back from the frontier worlds the enemy was attacking, and even Commnet took weeks to get a transmission through. But it was clear that the Alliance had a full-fledged emergency on its hands. Stark had to find out what was happening, and he had to do it immediately. But, for the first time in a very long time, Gavin Stark didn’t know what to do. He was low on reliable agents, at least at the highest level. Jack Dutton had been his mentor and closest confidante, but the ancient spymaster had finally lost his long battle with age. Stark missed the old man’s council and friendship even more than he’d expected. He was alone now, in a way he’d never imagined.