Exodus: Empires at War: Book 7: Counter Strike (15 page)

Don’t think like that, Sean
.  There
were still many ways they could lose this war against their much more massive
enemy.  Arrogance could lead to several of those ways.  It was best to use
every asset they had to the fullest advantage, while still realizing that an
enemy had plans of their own, which didn’t include losing the war.

“We’re being welcomed by Sauron
Traffic Control,” called out the Com Officer.  “The Admiral commanding wants to
know if you would like a pass and review, your Majesty.”

“No,” said Sean.  “I think not.” 
We really don’t have time for that.  We need to concentrate on the business
at hand.
  Then he realized that it was not just about him.  To these
people, on these ships, it would be an honor to be reviewed by their Monarch, a
much needed morale boost.  “Belay that last, Com,” he told the officer. 
“Inform the Admiral Commanding that I would be honored to review the Fleet.  At
his convenience.”

“Aye, your Majesty,” said the
smiling Com Officer, turning back to her board.

And after that, me and my bride
will be on our way back to the capital, and one chance at a celebration among
all this turmoil.

*     *     *

SPACE TO
COREWARD OF CA’CADASAN EMPIRE.  DECEMBER 2, 1001.

“We’re picking up eight contacts
to rimward,” called out the Sensor Officer, a look of alarm on her face. 
“Moving in our direction in hyper VII.”

“Identification?” asked Commodore
Natasha
Sung, fearing the worst.

“Resonances are consistent with Ca’cadasan
ships.  Two supercruisers, and six scouts.”

It could have been much worse
, she thought.  While
her ships were not warships, they still massed almost twenty-eight million tons
each, and were as heavily armed as battleships.  What they didn’t have was the
armor of battleships.  They also carried six destroyer sized hyper VI
exploration ships, which were armed much like frigates.  The biggest problem
with those ships was that
Nina, Pinta
and
Santa Maria
were
currently cruising in hyper VII at a velocity of point nine light.  They had no
way to deploy those hyper VI ships, which would fall out of VII as soon as they
left the hyper field of their launching ship.  And that translation would more
than likely destroy them.

And there’s no way we can decelerate down to
translation speed ourselves before those ships reach us.
  It might have been a
near thing with a warship, or even a courier.  But her ships had a hundred
gravity limit on their acceleration.  They had been built for the long cruise,
not quick accel and decel. 
And maybe the next class of exploration ships
should be designed with speed and maneuverability in mind.

“All crew to battle stations,” ordered the
Commodore. 
“Pinta
and
Santa Maria
to battle stations.  I want us
arrayed in a battle line to take their attack.”

“Yes, ma’am,” called out the Tactical Officer. 
“All weapons powered up.  All tubes loaded and ready.”

“
Pinta
and
Santa Maria
are
reporting all ready,” said the Com Officer.

“Are you picking up any other ships?” she asked
her Sensor Officer, dreading the answer.

“So far no, ma’am,” said the officer.  “The
only resonances I am picking up at those of the eight ships in that force.”

“What are you thinking, ma’am?” asked the Exec
from the secondary bridge, the only other control center on the ship.  There
was no CIC, the vessel not being a warship.

“They might be the advanced scout force of
whatever else is out there,” she said over the personal com link.  “I know we
can outfight these guys, even though we would take more damage that we want. 
But if they have some of their battleships coming after them, even one, we
might find that it's more than we can handle.”

And we can’t even drop into normal space and hide. 
Not at our pitiful acceleration rate.

“Enemy ships will be in visual range in three
minutes,” called out the Sensor Officer.

“We have missile launch,” yelled the Tactical
Officer.  “Twenty missiles in space.  No, make that forty.”

They could launch so many more
, thought the
Commodore.  “Is this some kind of test?”

“That’s what I would guess, ma’am,” said the
Tactical Officer, looking back.

“Order all ships to send them a volley,” she
ordered, staring at the tactical plot and the forty Caca missiles that were
heading their way.  “And fire counters when ready.”

Thirty outgoing missiles appeared on the plot,
accelerating at five thousand gravities toward the enemy.

The exchange was inconclusive, to say the
least, as both sides picked off the missiles of the other.  Sung waited for
another volley to come her way, this one with more weight behind it.  Instead,
the enemy darted forward and back, testing the maneuverability of the human
force.  After an hour they fell back to a following distance that left them out
of any kind of weapons range that could realistically cause them harm.

“Two of the scouts are dropping away,” said the
Sensor Officer, staring at his own holo.  “They’re starting to decelerate
away.”

“What the hell are they up to?” asked the Exec
over the personal link.

“I think that’s pretty obvious, XO,” said Sung,
staring at the plot.  “The cruisers and four destroyers will continue to shadow
us, while those two go and find help to take us down.” 
And there’s not a
thing we can do about it
, she thought. 
How long do we have before those
two scouts find someone to take us down?

*    
*     *

CAPITULUM, JEWEL.

Cornelius Walborski still found it amazing that
his home address was the Imperial Palace in Capitulum.  Sure, there were over a
hundred thousand people living on the grounds, performing various duties, or
just staying there through some entitlement or other. 
And I’m just a common
soldier, not even assigned to any of the Imperial Protection Details.

The aircar took a slow circuit over the extensive
grounds at his request.  Thousands of square kilometers of gardens, riding
paths, woods, even a couple of large playing fields, tennis courts, and a golf
course.  And over a thousand buildings besides the Palace itself, which, even
though it was a mere ten stories, was one of the largest buildings the Cadet
Lieutenant had ever seen.  It had over twenty thousand rooms. 
And I bet
Sean hasn’t even been to a tenth of those rooms in his lifetime.

Of course, most of the chambers were quarters,
recreation rooms and kitchens for the staff that served the Imperial Family. 
Many others were the living quarters of noble family members and others who
made up the Court. 
And I’m considered part of that assemblage
, thought
Walborski. 
Not bad for a commoner from New Detroit, the son of a long line
of commoners.

The aircar swept over the main building and
along the side of one of the extensive wings.  Until he saw the area he
recognized so well, the small courtyard that fronted his quarters.  Nothing
ostentatious, compared to those of the Dukes and Duchesses that lived here.  A
three bedroom, two bath apartment, a little bigger than most families would
live in on New Detroit.  But much more luxurious in every respect other than
size.

“Cornelius,” yelled the red haired woman as the
aircar settled to the ground.  She waited a moment until the car had stopped,
and then ran out to meet her husband.  Just behind her was a slim raven haired
girl who was barely a teen, running after her adoptive mom to greet her
adoptive father.

Walborski was out of the aircar in an instant,
leaving his bags for someone else to deal with.  He caught the woman in his
arms and their lips met in a fierce kiss.  Another body collided gently with
his, and slender arms encircled both he and his wife.

“It’s so good to have you home,” said Devera,
breaking the kiss to look up into his face.  “I just wish you wouldn’t be
forced to save the Empire every time you moved from one place to another.”

Cornelius laughed, and reached out a hand to
ruffle the hair of his adoptive daughter.  “You glad to see me too, squirt?” he
asked the child, who was peering around him to look at the aircar, which was
being unloaded by the driver.  “What are you looking for?”

“Just trying to see if you brought any more
children with you,” she said with a smile.

“I’ve already gotten enough in the house,” he
said, putting one arm around her shoulders, the other around the shoulders of
his wife.  “And how is Junior doing?”

“Teething,” said the child, making a face.  “Up
all hours.”

“And I’m up with him,” said Devera with a sigh.

Cornelius noticed that she was in her Warrant
Officer’s uniform, and probably just off a shift at the hospital.  Someday she
would be a full Doc, and an officer, if she decided to stay in the service. 
The
war will probably still be going on, if we survive that long
, thought her
husband. 
And she’ll have to take a commission.

“I know it’s not fair for you,” he said,
looking into the beautiful eyes and freckled face of his wife.

“I signed up for it,” she said with a smile. 
“No regrets.  He’s my son now too, and I will take care of him.  And Rebecca is
a huge help.”

That was something Cornelius still felt guilty
about.  He had married this woman because he loved her.  And had stuck her with
the care of two children that were really not her own.  But she seemed to
accept them with no problem, and he couldn’t think of any better parent to his
children, natural and adopted.

“How long are you here for?” asked Rebecca as
they walked through the French doors into the apartment, the driver following
with Cornelius’ bags, which the officer motioned for the man to drop to the
floor.

“I was scheduled to be back by two days hence,”
said Cornelius, seeing the disappointment come immediately over the faces of
the two women.  “But they granted me an extension, seeing as how I
inadvertently entered a combat zone.”

“And help to save the Empire, again,” said
Rebecca, bouncing up and planting a kiss on his cheek.

“What’s this again?” asked Cornelius with a sad
smile. 
The first medal I got was for taking my rage out on the Cacas in the
jungle.  Purely a personal mission of revenge.  And the second time I took out
a Caca base.  Not something the fate of the Empire rested upon.  Even this
time, I only helped to stop one of the bombs from going off on the station. 
And I’ll probably have to go through another damned embarrassing medal
ceremony.

“I think his Majesty will probably be able to
get you an extension, dear,” said Devera with a twinkle in her eye.

“If he has a good reason,” said Cornelius. 
“But I can’t see him taking the time to order more leave time for a junior
officer.”

“But, the wedding,” said an excited Rebecca,
unable to contain herself.

“What wedding?”

“Sean and Jennifer are to be married,” said
Devera with a smile.  “I guess I mean his Majesty and the Duchess.  And I am
sure they will want you there.”

“That’s wonderful news,” exclaimed Cornelius. 
And
about time too. 
“But why in the hell would they care if I was there or
not.  It’s not like I’m important or anything.”

“You really don’t have a clue, do you?” said
Devera, patting his head.  “You’re his Paladin, his knight in shining armor. 
And someone he expects will tell him the truth when he asks about the ground
war.”

“Knight, huh.  I’m just a commoner from New
Detroit.”

And Devera’s smile in return told him there was
trouble ahead.

*    
*     *

“You’ve heard?” asked Countess Zhee, storming
into the chamber.

“We’ve heard,” said Duke Thomason, one of her
remaining loyalists.

“And?”

“Not sure what we can do.  He’s the Emperor,
and it’s not like we can tell him who to marry.”

“But, he should marry to improve the line,”
protested the Countess, who really couldn’t care less about the Imperial line,
except where it benefitted her.  “He should marry to cement alliances within
the nobility.”

“I hear he really loves the woman,” said Baron
Nordstrom, sitting across the table from the Duke.

“What does love have to do with a dynastic
matching,” screamed Zhee, plopping down into an empty seat.  “Did any of us
marry for love?  Or for the advantages the match gave to our families?”

“Leave it alone, Zhee,” growled the Duke.  “I
swore my duly recorded oaths to the lad when he was crowned.  As did you.”

“And we are still the opposition,” hissed the
woman.  “With a duty to oppose that which we think unwise in the running of
this Empire.”

“That’s political, Zhee,” said the Duke,
staring into her eyes.  “This is a personal matter, between Sean and his lady.”