“Normally it would be. But now we have a nearly-intact alien fleet moving further into Juirean territory where it will invariably be reinforced. And we’ve suffered more losses than anticipated, especially counting the damaged units.”
“This may be their plan, Howie,” Admiral Allen spoke up. “They may be looking to strike then retreat, whittling us down a little more with each encounter. After all, we’re a long way from home, and they’re moving closer to their high-ground.”
Levin nodded. “That may be true, but do you honestly think the Juireans believe us to be that naive as to fall for such an obvious trap?”
“This is an alien race we’re talking about here, Admiral,” Allen replied. “And from their history, they haven’t had to use too much strategy in the past to defeat their enemies. They may be operating from their own simple thinking, not anticipating that their plan is obvious to us. The Human race does have considerably more experience with the tactics of war than they do.” He then looked over at Rittenberg. “That’s why the fucking Klin picked us in the first place, wasn’t it?”
Rittenberg was embarrassed by the glare from Allen. Even though he was one of the most senior 2G’s to be turned by the native Humans, he still felt intimated being in the presence of what he called real Humans. No matter how thoroughly the Klin had tried to teach him all he needed to know to pull off the deception of being one of them, their efforts had fallen woefully short in so many ways. Rittenberg was like a child among adults, ever-learning what it meant to be truly Human.
“The Klin have always counted on your instincts towards war,” Rittenberg said. “I believe they did their best in analyzing Human nature and abilities. But it’s obvious that their forecasts are lacking, not only in regards to Humans, but the Juireans as well.”
Allen just smirked and shook his head. Even though he knew Rittenberg was now on their side — and had been feeding misleading reports to the Klin for months — he still couldn’t get over the belief that this man was a traitor to his own race. Even the way he often spoke just amplified the 2G’s further lack of understanding of the race he was related to.
Allen looked back at Levin, “Howie, this first encounter is a great opportunity to learn not only how the Juireans plan to prosecute this war, but also to speculate on what the Klin’s end-game is as well. It’s obvious that the Juireans want us to follow them deeper into their territory, as they weaken our forces with each engagement. They probably believe that this fleet is the extent of the forces we have to bring against them. In that regard, they’re correct — for now. But unless they have spies back on Earth, they can’t know about the second fleet under construction — with the help of the Klin — or about the units we’re building under the noses of the white-haired bastards. But that fleet won’t be on station for several months.”
Allen looked down at the casualty and damage report from the recent battle, and his devious, Special Forces mind began to click. The germ of an idea began to grow. “Why don’t we let the Juireans succeed with their plan?” he said with a smile.
“Excuse me, Nate — but what the fuck?” Levin said.
“Just think: the Juireans expect us to follow them, probably stopping now and then to inflict more damage on our fleet. At some point, however, they’ll feel they have enough of an advantage and will make a stand designed to destroy the entire fleet — or what’s left of it. Let’s let them do it. Let’s engage them, but rather than have actual losses, let’s pump up our casualty numbers to a point where the J’s believe they are really taking a heavy toll on our forces.”
Levin finally returned the sly smile. “I see where you’re going with this. We pull units out of the subsequent battles at a much higher rate, but keep them in reserve for this final battle the aliens have in mind. We flip their strategy right back at them.”
“Exactly. At some point they may think they’re going up against a couple hundred of our remaining forces, and then we overwhelm them with our reserve units. Hell, this war could be over in a lot less time than we anticipated.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Nate. The Juireans have so much more capacity at their disposal than we do. And what about the Klin?”
“That’s a variable we still don’t know about. If we do defeat the Juireans — at least to a point where the other members of their empire begin to side with us — then what do the Klin get out of this? Will they be satisfied simply with the Juireans being defeated as revenge for the destruction of Klinmon, or do they want more? Will they let the Humans win the war and take over the Expansion, or do they have plans beyond that?”
All eyes turned to Rittenberg. “I honestly do not know. We never had any conversations regarding the aftermath of the war.”
“What’s your best guess?” Allen asked. “You were raised by the alien fuckers. You must have some idea of what they’re really like.”
“All I know is that the Klin hate the Juireans at core level. Maybe the simple destruction of the Juirean race will be enough for the Klin; I do not know for sure. And yet the Klin have always felt that they were the true creators of the Alliance, and the system and technology that built the Expansion. They feel they were cheated out of their destiny and may want to right that wrong.”
Levin stood up. “Whatever the Klin have planned will reveal itself as the war goes on. We just have to be vigilant. Right now, I have to get our forces back to work. Thank you all. I will have specific orders for you within the hour. Dismissed.”
Chapter 14
Within the hour, Admiral Howie Levin had set in motion three distinct actions. He sent eight hundred and fifty ships in pursuit of the Juirean fleet, following the massive gravity wave deeper into the Expansion. He also sent twenty-five ships and a contingent of Marines to Melfora Lum, the capital planet of the Juirean forces in the Fringe, with orders to take control of the Juirean facilities there. Next he had Commander Lee Schwartz shuttled to his command ship.
When Lee entered the Admiral’s quarters, he was greeted by Levin and his uncle, Admiral Nate Allen. Lee was still pissed at having had his ship damaged during the short, nineteen-minute battle with the Juireans, even though he knew now that the damage was minimal and he’d be back in the fleet in about a week. Why he had been summoned to the flagship was anyone’s guess.
Nate Allen greeted his young nephew with a hearty handshake after the cursory saluting. “So, Commander, you’re a Starfighter now,” he said with a smile. Starfighter was the designation now given to anyone who had participated in a battle in space. “The ribbon will look good on your Class A’s.”
“Yes, sir, but I’m not done yet. My ship will be back in action in about a week.”
Levin motioned for Lee to take a seat on the long couch; Nate Allen sat at the other end, while Levin sat in the room’s padded chair.
“Yeah, about that,” Levin started, “we have other plans for you, Commander.”
Lee felt his heart pound heavy in his chest and he went flush. He hadn’t come all this way just to be pulled out of the fight-
Levin held up a hand to stop the protest building up in Lee. “First of all, I want to say you acted honorably in this first encounter with the Juireans, and that you are being promoted immediately to the rank of Captain.”
Lee clamped his mouth shut as his eyes grew wide.
“But with the rank comes a new assignment.”
Here it comes.
Levin looked over at Nate Allen, who took over the conversation. “It’s the belief of Command that the reason the Juireans bugged out of the area is that they want us to follow them deeper into their territory, while continuing to inflict casualties on the Fleet. Then at some point, we believe they’ll attempt to spring a trap on our diminished forces. We’re going to let the Juireans do this.”