Alarm of War

He opened his arms wide to encompass everything around him. “They want this, Atlas and Prometheus, the industrial titans of the human universe. This, and our Victorian space with its wonderful network of wormholes.”

“Bloody hell,” murmured Sir Henry.

“But if the Fleet can’t protect Cornwall, how can it protect Atlas and Prometheus?”

“We can’t,” he said shortly. “We cannot fight and win, but we can run,” Hiram replied, his own sense of certainty for once suffusing his voice with confidence. “And we’ll take Atlas with us.”

Chapter 43

In Victorian Space, near Bogey One

“There they are,” the Sensors Officer breathed. “Sweet Gods, look at ‘em all!”

H.M.S. Annapurna hung motionless in space five thousand miles away from Bogey One. Two hours earlier it had launched a dozen spy drones and sent them across the travel lane favored by traders going from Cape Breton to Victoria. Annapurna was a scout frigate, specially fitted to be stealthy and with a powerful assortment of passive sensors. Just for practice, it routinely stalked freighters and other ships traveling along the main trader routes. Even more fun was stalking other war ships in the Home Fleet. Captain Culver delighted in sending her fellow captains copies of the sensor reports showing how close she had gotten to them, completely undetected. She called them her “love letters.”

The other captains were seldom amused; Culver thought it was hilarious.

Two of the spy drones had bracketed the incoming fleet, collected data from their sensitive passive sensors and beamed it back to Annapurna by whisker laser.

“Put it up on the board, Donny,” Culver said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Warrant Officer Donald DiFusco typed in a command and the holo display blossomed. The spy drones had gotten close enough for visual sightings as well as picking up radio, sensor and anti-matter emissions. Culver maneuvered the display controls to zoom in until they could clearly see individual ships.

“My, my,” she said. “And who is that knocking at my door?” She hummed the tune from a popular song as she panned the camera angle back and forth, occasionally zooming in to examine some detail.

“I see eighty seven ships, Captain,” DiFusco reported. “Eighty five have military grade power plants and engines, two are definitely civilian freighters.” He shrugged. “They may be using them as colliers. We are not — I repeat, not — picking up T-band broad spectrum sensors or S-band targeting sensors, just normal navigation BB- band that you’d expect to see with any freighter. No radio traffic at all. They are locked down tight, being as stealthy as a big ass fleet of ships can be.”

“Origin?”

“Mildred classifies most of them as Dominion, but there are a bunch that have drive signatures that are not in our data bank. Similar to known Dominion drives, but different, like they might be the next generation.”

Culver frowned. Next generation engines? She didn’t like the sound of that. “Size and strength?”

“Looks like eighty five war birds, including one really big sonofabitch, bigger than our standard battleships. Then we’ve got…um, thirty cruiser size ships, another thirty destroyer size, then a bunch of smaller ships, mostly frigates and smaller.” He looked up. “Interesting, though, near the back of the fleet, there are two large ships, but I can’t figure out what they are.” He spun the aiming device, then zoomed in on two ships that looked like two large ovals.

Culver frowned. The two ships did not appear to have any significant offensive weapons, unless they were hidden in the hull. There were several rows of short, stubby weapons that she guessed were for anti-missile defense. Colliers? They were much bigger than any colliers she had ever seen. She zoomed in further. There were dozens of radio dishes spotted along the top of each ship, more than any collier would need. She mentally shrugged; let the boffins back at Atlas have a go at it.

“Close down the drones and let’s back out of here, quiet and slow,” she told her deck crew. “Julianne, do we have a clean shot for the comm laser back to Atlas?”

“No, Captain,” the Communications Officer replied. “We’ll have to route it through one of the satellites.”

“Set it up. Download all of the drone data and send it off ‘Priority Alpha.’ Mark it for attention to Home Fleet Command, with a copy to this Lieutenant Brill, whoever he is.”

Captain Culver sat back in her chair, ignoring the subtle tremor as the ship crept away under chemical thrusters. She zoomed the display out until she could see the entire fleet, colored red by the computer as hostiles. A deep thrill of fear coursed through her. How would they stop so many ships?

Chapter 44

In Victorian Space

Dominion Task Force (Bogey One)

A strong man could shape the universe to his will.

Bend it, if need be.

Admiral Mello knew this to be true. Task Force One was now twenty hours inside Victorian space and still undetected. They’d reach Cornwall and the precious space stations in another twenty four hours. Every mile increased the chances they would be discovered, but so far there was no reason for the Vickies to be suspicious. They were just another grain convoy from Cape Breton, larger than most, perhaps, but not threatening in the least. They were just plodding along, getting closer and closer to their objective.

“Any word from Admiral Kaeser?”

“Nothing yet, sir. Since he doesn’t know exactly where we are, he can’t reach us by laser, and he probably doesn’t want to risk a courier drone.”

Mello shrugged. He hadn’t really expected anything, not yet. “Anything on the holo?”

Commander Pattin shook her head. “We’ve seen a few freighters, but at some distance, too far away for them to paint us with commercial sensors. We’ve had the usual sensor ghosts, but nothing worth investigating.”

Dominion Task Force One plowed on. Six thousand miles away, the H.M.S. Annapurna found a clear line of sight to one of the Fleet’s communications satellites and beamed its message of warning.

• • • • •

The Fleet ship closest to Bogey Two was a destroyer, the H.M.S. Glasgow, captained by Captain Robert Manforte, known by his crew with affection as Madman Manforte for his daring and boldness during Fleet maneuvers.

“Picking up Bogey Two, Captain,” the Sensors Officer said. “At least fifty ships, maybe more.”

Manforte frowned. Only fifty? The report from Atlas had identified as many as seventy. Had they split up, divided their force?

“Okay, boys and girls,” Manforte said breezily. “Let’s get closer and eyeball these bastards. Pilot, set course for convergence, then kill the engines and we’ll coast right by them.” He smiled wolfishly. “Close enough to tickle them as we go by.”

Two hours later the Glasgow was less than a thousand miles away, coming in from a wide angle so that it would cross under the Dominion fleet. Its passive sensors recorded everything.

On board the Dominion ship Fortitude, Admiral Kaeser watched the holo display with growing incredulity. He had a globe of twenty ships coasting in parallel with the rest of Attack Force Two, acting as a perimeter guard. They had picked up the Vicky destroyer twenty minutes ago and had been plotting its course since then. For a while Admiral Kaeser had hoped that by simply ignoring the destroyer, they could bluff their