Alarm of War

scanners. Anything hot is an enemy ship.” He wondered what they would try. The last group he’d been up against in this scenario had tried to sucker him with decoys, but his recon drones had detected the ruse. When the real Blue Force had burst out from hiding in the asteroid belt, Rudd was ready for it, and had tricked them into wasting missiles on his decoys. It was over in two minutes. He’d been scathing in the debriefing.

“Supply Station Alamo is in missile range,” his tactical office reported, bringing him back to the present.

“Eyes peeled, people,” Rudd warned. “Our little friends will be popping in for a visit any moment now.”

A minute later alarms shrilled. “Laser hit! We have been struck by a laser on the port bow.” A quick diagnostic revealed only minor damage, but nonetheless, battle had been joined. Rudd leaned closer to the sensor display. The display was poor, fuzzy with static from the asteroids, but it was clear enough. And there they were. Five, no six destroyers emerging from the asteroid belt ten degrees to the left of the supply station. Good. He turned to his Executive Officer. “Frank, this is their feint. They’ll pop out another force once we’ve committed to attack. You fight the feint. I’ll handle the real attack.”

The Red Force swung to the left, honoring the threat. The two forces began to exchange missile fire. Rudd ignored it. This wasn’t the real threat. He ordered sensor drones launched “up” and “down”, perpendicular to their line of flight, with active pinging to detect anyone coasting in from the ceiling or basement. He didn’t think Tuttle would do that though, it was too obvious and too easy to discover. He was betting on an attack from the rear, and he began to move his second wave into position to pounce on it when it came.

Meanwhile the missile duel was going pretty much as he expected. The Blue Force had flushed their missile batteries, but had fired erratically, depriving them of the saturation they needed to achieve to maximize their chances of a hit. He peered closer, and then shook his head in disappointment. The best tactic for the Blue Force was to flush its missile batteries, then retreat immediately back into the asteroid belt, where they would be protected from Red Force’s missiles and lasers. But they had charged out farther than they should have, like the British cavalry at Waterloo. They would be exposed to deadly fire for several minutes before regaining the protection of the asteroid field. Rudd frowned; he’d expected better from Tuttle.

Suddenly the sensor plot changed, showing the Blue Force wheeling about, trying to get back to the asteroid field. They desperately shot chaff clouds to further confuse his sensors. His Executive Officer ordered the second round of missiles, and eighty missiles shot toward the retreating enemy.

He watched the feed from the two sensor drones he’d launched towards the Supply Station. Lots of static from the area of the chaff cloud — well, no surprise there — and nothing from the right flank…unless. Behind him, he could hear groans from the Weapons Officer as the missiles lost their sensor lock in the chaff cloud. Some of them would punch through the chaff and regain a lock on the other side. Maybe. Ready for Act II, he thought.

He touched his Sensor Officer on the elbow. “Active sensors there!” he ordered, pointing to an area to the right of the supply station. “Now, ping the hell out of them!” The Sensor Officer charged the sensors for a five pulse sequence, then punched the firing button. Even as the first set of data came up on the screen, more alarms blared.

“Fifty missiles inbound from our stern! Five zero missiles. Two minutes to impact!” the Sensor Officer barked. But before the missiles could reach him, one of his eight ships blossomed and began blinking orange. Rudd blinked. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“The Alexandria is dead. Looks like multiple laser strikes cracked her bottle, Sir.” The Sensor Officer looked up from his screens. “Gods of Our Mothers, they must have all aimed at the same target.”

Rudd cursed under his breath. Every ship had a magnetic “bottle” protecting the antimatter reactor. It was very well shielded, but a lucky hit could knock out one of the crucial capacitors, making the bottle fluctuate and lose cohesion. Matter and antimatter would fuse uncontrollably…and that would be that.

Time to spring his own ambush. He touched a button to talk to his second wing. Two cruisers and five destroyers had been coasting in behind him, antimatter reactors throttled back to idle, observing radio silence. There was an excellent chance that the Blue Force would not even have noticed them. “Rudd to Red Force Two! Attack the force that emerged behind us! Execute now!” A moment later Red Force Two volleyed ninety missiles. That should distract them, he thought. Now to turn around and-

“Sir, the Boston reports several laser strikes! Damage to one of her missile batteries and to her fire control!”

Damn! Rudd snorted ruefully. He was still going to win this, but Tuttle was taking her pound of flesh. Time to protect his force until the cruisers could soften them up. He quickly weighed the options. The asteroid field would give him ample protection, but it was still several minutes away. Too long. He smiled. The first Blue ships had left an enormous chaff cloud right in front of him. Why not?

“Red Force One, all ships go into the chaff cloud. We’ll let Red Two handle the ships behind us while we go after the first Blue ships. Execute now!”

Thirty seconds later all seven of his ships had plunged into the chaff cloud, concealing them from the pursuing Blue attackers. The sensor display immediately turned murky.

“I can’t see shit,” one of the sensor operators muttered. “It’s like driving though a rain storm.” The Sensor Officer leaned over his shoulder, pointing at something. “What’s that?” The rating shrugged. “Can’t tell, Sir. Too small to be a ship. Could be an echo. Lot of them. See here, and here? I’d guess they’re just sensor ghosts. This chaff is buggering the sensors all to hell.”

“Sir!” The XO shouted. “The Boston just dropped off the net! Wait… Shit, now Athens is gone.” He suddenly leaned over to a rating, who was talking frantically. When he straightened, his face was pale. “Budapest and Tripoli report heavy damage from laser fire.”

“From where? Who’s firing on us?” Rudd demanded furiously. “Sensors! Do we have a lock on the Blue ships?”

The Sensors Officer shook his head in bewilderment. “There are no Blue ships! We don’t have any on the screen.”

The XO again: “Tripoli reports she’s lost power. Naples is under fire and is turning to clear the chaff cloud-”

Then Rudd understood. That sneaky bitch! She’d mined the goddam chaff cloud! She’d suckered him into hiding in it and buggered him royally. He had to smile, despite himself. Buggered by a wet-behind-the-ears trainee!

“All ships, they’ve mined the chaff cloud. Veer left! Get out of the cloud. Fire lasers to your front to clear a path!”

Only two of his seven ships survived to break out of the chaff. He breathed a deep sigh of re-

“Oh, Christ!” the XO exclaimed. Immediately on front of them, six Blue Force destroyers hovered at a full Hoang stop. Ten seconds later the remaining Red Force One ships were Code Omega.

Rudd’s sensor screens continued to show him the battle, even though his ship was dead. He watched sourly as all of the Blue ships slipped back to the safety of the asteroid belt. Red Force Two prudently declined to chase them — it would be like groping around in the dark. Rudd sat back with a sigh. Well, he’d gained his objective, the supply station was his. But what a price!

The room lights went up, signaling the end of the exercise. His com screen came on. Commander Grey’s face appeared. “Well, Alex, this is a first,” she said coolly. “I don’t normally expect my Tactical Instructor to be taken to the cleaners by one of his students.”

Rudd stifled another sigh. “Losses were heavier than I anticipated, Ma’am, but I achieved my objective. We took Supply Station Alamo and deprived the Blue Forces of fifty thousand tons of processed ziridium.”

Commander Grey cocked her head. “Didn’t they tell you?”

Rudd closed his eyes. “Excuse me, Ma’am?”

‘When Red Force Two boarded Supply Station Alamo, it was empty.”

Rudd’s eyes snapped open. “Empty!”

The corner of Commander’s Grey’s mouth was twitching despite her effort to appear dead-panned. The young, chubby lieutenant was one of her protegees, a whiz kid in his own right, and it was all she could do to keep