Alarm of War

Chapter 20

P.D. 952

Gathering Storm

The Dominion First Attack Fleet in Sybil Head Space

Four months after leaving their home sector, the First Attack Force of the Dominion of Unified Citizenry, eighty five ships strong, entered the Sybil Head Sector like a dark cloud.

No one noticed their arrival. Aboard the battleship Vengeance, Admiral Mello had taken great pains that this be so. They stayed off the direct route freighters used to use to travel from Sybil Head to the Dominion. It was a long route, using a series of short-hop wormholes made obsolete by the discovery of the wormhole from Sybil Head to Victoria, and another from Victoria to the Dominion. But Admiral Mello was a cautious man, for all his reputation as a bold tactician, and so he had taken the Task Force on a dog leg away from the trade route, then ran parallel to it well out of sensor range of any errant freighter dogging its slow way between sectors.

Running five hours in front of the Dominion Task Force, fifteen destroyers probed in a wide arc with sensitive passive sensors, looking for any ship that might notice them, wonder who they were and pass along a message to Sybil Head. Their standing orders were blunt: No one must see the First Attack Force. Destroy any ship that stumbled across their path. So far they had been lucky.

“Latest report from Captain Morales, Admiral,” his aide said, handing him the notebook. Mello waived a hand. “Tell me, Jodi.”

Commander Jodi Pattin nodded. “Captain Morales has only picked up one ship, at extreme range, moving away from our line of travel. The drive signature makes it an ore freighter, probably making a local run between mining colonies. He’s not seeing any other activity, but he’s concerned that there might be a small mining colony somewhere in front of us.”

Mello drummed his fingers on his armrest, considering. The trouble with Sybil Head was that it was cluttered with little mining colonies, often that weren’t on any navigation chart. They could blunder into one without every knowing it was there until they were on top of it, and any one of them could send out a dispatch drone warning of the Dominion attack force. In another four days they would be through Sybil Head, heading for Cape Breton. There they would meet with the light force of frigates and several colliers promised by the CB government, resupply, perform one last maintenance check, and then enter the wormhole that would take them into Victorian space. And then…

“Okay, Jodi, let’s move another dogleg, a full Sensor Unit further out, then turn back on course. Inform the fleet. Use whisker laser, not radio.”

“Commander Pattin punched some numbers into her notebook. “This will chew up another fifteen hours, Sir.”

“Can’t be helped, Jodi. This entire campaign depends on surprise. Without it, we will get our collective asses kicked. We’ve built in extra time for just this type of contingency. And, Jodi-” She looked at him expectantly.

“No mistakes,” he said firmly. “I want confirmation from each ship that they understand we are turning. Everyone stays in formation. Any captain who strays off course will be removed instantly. No mistakes. We haven’t come this far just so some sloppy jackass can ruin everything.”

“Of course, Admiral.” She left to do his bidding.

Mello turned his attention back to his screens. He was commanding the largest fleet in the history of the Dominion, about to attack the Dominion’s biggest threat, and he would flay alive any man who stood between him and his victory.

Chapter 21

Emily’s Personal Journal

I am now the Assistant Tactical Officer on board the New Zealand! A missile cruiser, Gods bless her. I was afraid they would stick me on a battleship, where I would be lost in the mobs of junior lieutenants. A destroyer would have been okay, but a missile cruiser! Very nice. Only one problem: I got a poor write-up on the Supply Station Alamo exercise, which I don’t understand at all. I asked Rudd about it, but all he said is next time I should try harder. Try harder? Heck, I almost annihilated him! Trying to get up the nerve to talk to Captain Grey. Getting madder as I think about it. Laura Salazar, who I had thought screwed up her exercise, got a good write-up and has already been transferred to Second Fleet. Andrew Lord is still here.

I have been in touch with Hiram, who sounds excited but is being very closed mouth about just what he is doing. Still seeing Cookie, but he is pretty much stuck on Atlas and Cookie has been posted to Second Fleet and is back at the space station infrequently. Another ‘Fleet relationship.’ What an unlikely couple! The shy geek and the warrior woman. I hope it works out for them. I envy them a little, I think. I’ve had one or two nice weekend flings while going through advanced training, but it was clear from the start that weekend flings were all they were going to be. One was someone in my training battalion, but I felt like I was having sex with a teenager. The other man was my age, but he was one of the training cadre, so we probably broke a gazillion rules and regulations. He was nervous as a cat. I’m trying not to get depressed about this.

Meanwhile, I am being trained in Tactical on the New Zealand. The skipper is Commander Julie Grey. She is a tiny woman, slender with short grey hair. She is attractive enough in a very severe way. She is pleasant, a bit formal, and can be one ruthless bitch in the training skirmishes we have.

I love it. And to my surprise, I seem to have a knack for it. I still want to be a Fleet Historian, of course, but in the meantime I must confess I am enjoying Tactical. We keep having all of these exercises where they create a tactical situation without telling you what is. You have to figure it out from the political background memos, from reports from other ships in your Battle Group, and from your own sensor reports. You look at all this data — most of it conflicting — and you try to find a pattern. You try to figure out what the enemy is doing. And if you are lucky enough to figure that out, then you have to figure out a way to counter it. It is fascinating, frustrating, stressing and rewarding, all at the same time. Twice now Grey and Alex Rudd have teamed up against me and I have either fought them to a draw or won. ‘Course, I have also been completely buggered about five times.

But I am learning how they think, how they like to move the pieces on the board, and what they don’t seem to pay attention to. We have more exercises coming up and I have some ideas that might just surprise them.

Chapter 22

An Unexpected Dinner

In Victorian Space, on the New Zealand

The summons was unexpected. Emily was in her cabin, pouring over endless reports and wondering what she would do for dinner, when a very young naval rating nervously appeared at her door. “Captain’s compliments, Lieutenant. She wondered if you would like to join her for dinner in her wardroom at 1900 hours.”

Emily looked at her watch, it was already 6:30 p.m. Half an hour to get cleaned up and make sure her uniform was presentable.

The Captain’s Wardroom was surprisingly small. The dinner table could seat six, but was only set for two. A steward in a white jacket silently served them sea bass with fresh vegetables and a large salad, poured white wine into their glasses, then departed.

“Well, Emily, you are off to a pretty good start,” Grey observed, raising her wine glass. Emily felt a surge of