Alarm of War

P. D. 952

In Tilleke Space/ In Victorian Space

The captain of the Arcadian freighter Fool’s Gold stared anxiously at his sensor screen. They were two days into Tilleke space, with one more to go before reaching the Tilleke-Gilead wormhole. As far as he was concerned, it couldn’t be soon enough.

Less than fifty miles abeam two Tilleke war ships kept pace, pinging them with active sensor scans every few minutes. Either of those ships could blast Fool’s Gold into atoms at a moment’s notice. The Arcadian captain was a stoic man — you had to be if you were going to run a deep space freighter — but a thin sheen of perspiration covered his forehead and his stomach was tied up in knots. Two other Arcadian freighters flew in loose formation with him. Each carried enough ziridium ore to power a small city for a year. Big fat targets, that’s what they were. A total of ten Arcadian freighters had gone missing in the last several months; there was little doubt what had happened to them. The captain of the Fool’s Gold had known some of captains of the missing ships, had eaten with them, shared more than a few beers with them.

His eyes drifted nervously back to the sensor screen. He could easily see the two red triangles of the Tilleke ships and the three blue circles representing the Arcadian freighters. And between the freighters and the Tilleke raiders, shining solidly, were the two blue triangles of the Dominion destroyers, shielding the freighters from all harm.

He blew out a long, shuddering sigh. “Thank God for the DUC escort,” he breathed thankfully.

Lieutenant Hiram Brill grasped the sides of the podium with sweaty hands, nodded to the rows of admirals, cleared his throat nervously and began his briefing.

“As expected, the Emperor Chalabi has lodged a protest about the presence of Dominion war ships in Tilleke space. The Dominion of Unified Citizenry has committed approximately twenty five ships to escort Arcadian freighters through the Tilleke sector.”

“Approximately?” Admiral Skiffington asked tartly. “Don’t you think it is important for us to know the exact number, Lieutenant?”

Brill’s face flushed scarlet. “My apologies, Admiral. As of the last update from our ships screening the entrance to the Gilead-Tilleke wormhole, exactly twenty-six Dominion warships and colliers have passed into Tilleke space, including five missile cruisers, a Beamer of cruiser size, fifteen destroyers, two frigates and three colliers.”

“Gods of Our Mothers!” someone muttered. “That’s almost a quarter of the entire DUC fleet.”

“Have there been any incidents?” asked Admiral Giunta.

“No shooting incidents, Sir. However, this is the first major deployment for the Dominion fleet since the Battle of Windsor, and they have experienced a number of maintenance failures. Our surveillance ships located at the Gilead-Tilleke wormhole report that at least five Dominion ships — ” he consulted his notes — “including four destroyers and a cruiser, have had to be towed to Darwin for repairs. The cruiser The People’s Voice had to be towed all the way back to the Dominion. It may be because of these maintenance issues that the Dominion has notified us that it intends to move another ten ships to the Tilleke sector within the next few days. No word on the names or types of vessels.”

“What a fiasco,” Admiral Schuster said. “The Ducks are losing twenty percent of their fleet to maintenance failures.” Brill repressed a smile. That was neatly done, he thought. In one sentence Schuster not only stated the obvious, but reminded everyone at the table that he, as Commander of Fleet Logistics and Planning, only ran an average of two percent maintenance failures in comparison to his DUC counterpart.

“They’ve got an entire battle group there,” Admiral Douthat said with a tinge of concern.

“If they can keep them up and running!” Schuster jeered. “Gods of Our Mothers, we could make a fortune leasing them tug boats!” Smiles and laughter ran around the table.

“Not actually a battle group, Admiral,” Hiram replied. “There are no battleships deployed.”

“Can’t compare it to one of our battle groups, anyway,” Alyce Douthat reminded him. Heads nodded around the table. The Victorian Fleet was built around Battle Groups, usually consisting of one battleship, five missile cruisers, ten destroyers, four frigates and a supply collier. Home Fleet and Third Fleet had three Battle Groups each, while Second Fleet had four. Each Fleet was augmented by one or two arks, large freighter-like ships that could carry a number of corvettes and gun boats. The corvettes and gun boats had limited range and weapons loads, but added a measure of flexibility. In contrast, the DUC favored “wings” of ten ships, usually made up of heavy cruisers and destroyers. Intelligence said the entire DUC fleet had ten wings — 100 ships — so sending twenty six ships to escort the Arcadian freighters was a major commitment.

“And what about the Tilleke?”

“We do not have an accurate count of the number of ships the Tilleke have deployed along the trade route, but Duck ships have reported that there are fifty or more, most no larger than a destroyer-class. They are shadowing the Arcadian convoys very closely, but there have been no incidents as of yet. We have no information on weapon types or capabilities.”

Skiffington rounded on Admiral Teehan. “Really, Jeffrey, we need to get some decent intelligence on what the Tillies are up to. If the balloon goes up, I want some idea of what I will be running into. We certainly won’t be able to count on the Ducks, not at the rate their ships are falling apart.”

“We’re trying,” the head of Intelligence replied. “We even sent some drones through with some of the DUC destroyers, but the Ducks destroyed them, thinking they were Tilley drones.

“The Duck navy could not find its ass with active scanners!” Skiffington said sarcastically. He wheeled on Admiral Giunta. “We have to face the facts, Robert, the Ducks are worthless. If things get hot in there, the Ducks won’t be able to do a bloody thing. It is going to be up to Victoria to save the Arcadian’s bacon. You know that and I know that. But if I’m going in without any current intelligence, I want Second Fleet strong enough to take on anything it finds.”

Teehan flushed at this, but before he could retort, Admiral Giunta raised a placating hand, then spoke to Brill. “So what you are telling us, Lieutenant, is that there are a lot of DUC and Tilleke ships in close proximity to one another, that tensions are high, but nothing has happened yet. Is that about right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Giunta turned to Admiral Skiffington. “Okay, Oliver, I want Second Fleet to go through a full maintenance cycle, combat preparation. No more than ten percent of your force in maintenance at any one time, but pull out all the stops. Twenty four/seven until all your ships are at maximum readiness.” He turned to Admiral Penn. “Katherine, I am detaching two battle groups from Third Fleet and tasking them to Second Fleet. I want you to select which two by the end of the week. As soon as Second Fleet has finished its maintenance cycle, rotate those two battle groups through maintenance as quickly as possible.”

Third Fleet shot an angry glare at Skiffington, then focused on Giunta. “With all respect, Admiral, Third Fleet can’t continue to protect Windsor and task two of our three battle groups to Second Fleet,” she protested.

Giunta raised a placating hand. “I want you to leave a cruiser and three destroyers in orbit around Windsor. Bring the rest back to Cornwall.”

“You’re gutting my fleet!” Penn said angrily.

“Yes, I am,” the First Sea Lord replied evenly. He stood up. “You have your orders. Make it so.” He strode from the room. The others followed, leaving Katherine Penn and Oliver Skiffington alone.

Admiral Penn sat stiffly in her seat, jaws clenched, pink smudges staining her cheeks. Admiral Skiffington rose slowly, smiling. He hefted his briefcase. “Now, now, Katherine, don’t be angry. It’s only for a little while. You know I’ll make good use of them.”

Katherine Penn gave him a tight, furious smile. “Fuck you, Oliver.”

Skiffington chuckled, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He’d won, they both knew that.