“Let me guess,” Xiong said, waving a dismissive hand, lip curling with open contempt. “Forces of darkness and reaction giving you a hard time, are they?” He smiled again, the skin around green-gray eyes wrinkling in sympathy.
Michael grimaced. “They are, Captain. It’s fair enough, I suppose. They have their reasons.”
“I’m sure they have, but what they ignore is simple arithmetic. Without your dreadnoughts, we could not even think about Operation Opera, much less mount it. Well”-Xiong’s motherly face hardened-“not without stripping the home planets of what little protection they have left.”
“That’s what makes keeping quiet so hard, sir.”
“I know, but it’s best. Anyway, it does not matter what the naysayers think. It’s what happens on the field of battle that’s important. If I’m any judge of space warfare-and I should be; I’ve been in this business forty years- your dreadnoughts will be what gets Opera across the line. Old dinosaurs like me in our heavy cruisers cannot, and you can quote me, though please leave the ‘old dinosaur’ bit out.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, sir,” Michael said with a laugh.
“Easy for me to say,” Xiong said. “We won’t be in the thick of it like you.”
“The way Opera’s looking, I reckon covering the withdrawal is the best place for
“None taken,” Xiong said, “and don’t worry, I share your sentiments. I’m too old to enjoy being shot at by the Hammers. Now, changing the subject, how’s the love of your life?”
“Sorry, sir?”
“You know, that Lieutenant Cheung of yours. The lovely Anna.”
Michael’s face reddened. “Oh, er, fine thank you, sir …” he sputtered before lapsing into an embarrassed silence. He was not used to discussing his love life with senior officers.
“Relax, my boy,” Xiong said with a chuckle. “My wife’s one of Anna’s many cousins. She’s expecting an invite to the wedding, by the way.”
“Oh, right,” Michael said feebly. “I’ll remember that. Far as I know, Anna’s okay. Still no vidmail from her, but the Red Cross’s monthly status reports say she’s fine.”
“Pleased to hear it. We were worried for a while. Bad business that. But to be serious for a moment. Opera. You and your guys ready?”
“We are, sir.” Michael’s face was grim. “Well, as much as we can be. The two new squadrons are good though still green, and I worry about how well they’ll hold up under pressure. But they did well at Salvation, we’ve simmed the operation every which way, and provided we stay focused on reducing the plant’s defenses, on getting through to the plant itself, we’ll be fine. It’ll be tough, but that’s the whole point of the dreadnoughts.”
“I agree. It’ll be a dirty business. The shit will be flying everywhere. Just ignore it, keep going, never lose sight of the objective, and I think you’ll get this done.”
Michael’s stomach did a couple of lazy somersaults at the prospect of facing the Hammers again. “I certainly hope so, sir,” he said.
Michael had had enough. More than anything he wanted the formal dinner to wrap up so he could get back to
“… and finally, remember this. It’s in the operation order in big black letters, but I’ll say it again for those of you who don’t read so well. Only one thing matters … destroying the antimatter plant.” Jaruzelska paused to scan the faces of the captains of Battle Fleet Lima’s ships. “Compared to that, nothing else does,” she said fiercely. “Nothing. I don’t, you don’t, your crews don’t, and your ships don’t, so you should treat what I am about to say as a direct order.
“Every other operation I’ve ever been part of has gone off the rails at some point, and Opera will, too. You can count on it, especially as we know the Hammers are certain to send reinforcements; we just don’t know when or how many. And when those damned Hammers start turning up, it will be up to one of you to do whatever”-her voice slashed through the air-“and I mean whatever it takes to reduce that damned antimatter plant to a ball of molten slag. Do I make myself clear?”
Silence hung heavy in the air for a few seconds before the room erupted, the sound of chairs kicked back overwhelmed by roars of support.
Unmoving, Jaruzelska waited until the noise died down. “That’s all, folks. I look forward to seeing you all at the postoperation debrief. Until then … Remember Comdur!”
This time, the noise was deafening, the shout of “Remember Comdur” racketing across the hangar, an unstoppable wave of hate-fed energy.
Safely back onboard
Rao and Machar raised their mugs in silent acknowledgment.
“You guys all set?”
“Apart from wanting to throw up all the time, yes,” Machar said with a crooked smile, his normally blue-black skin tinged with gray. “That dinner was too much. Admiral Lord Nelson has a lot to answer for.”
“Tell me,” Rao said. “Going head to head against a pair of Hammer light escorts in
“We’ll come through,” Michael said. “Dreadnoughts are tough. I have faith in them, in their crews, and in you. Just remember what the admiral said. The one thing, the only thing, that matters is destroying the antimatter plant. When things go to shit, and they will, if the First gets blown out of space, you guys press on. Just keep going. One of us will get through.”
Michael took a sip of coffee.
“One of us will get through,” he said. “We have to.”
Four hours later, Battle Fleet Lima accelerated out of Comdur nearspace en route to Devastation Reef, 400 light-years distant.
Operation Opera was under way.
Friday, March 16, 2401, UD
Reckless,
“Pretty awesome, sir,” Ferreira said.
Michael nodded, doing his best to ignore a sick churning in his stomach. Thick clusters of green icons marked where the ships of Battle Fleet Lima spread out across space; they were a formidable sight.
“Sure is, Jayla,” he said. “I just wish we had the extra dreadnought squadrons Admiral Jaruzelska asked for. I’d be a lot more confident with another thirty dreadnoughts alongside me when we go into the attack.”
“Me, too, sir. Still,” Ferreira said cheerfully, “if the sims are to be believed, we’ll pull this one off.”
“Sims are sims, Jayla; when you strip them back, they are just fancy mathematical models, and remember what you’ve been taught about them.”
“Crap in, crap out, sir. That’s the one thing I remember.”
“Exactly so, Jayla. Can’t say I have much confidence in them after the Hell’s Moons operation. That sure as shit did not turn out the way we simmed it. You cannot simulate the arrival of Hammer task groups you don’t know anything about. One thing’s for certain. The second we drop in to attack, the Hammer commander is going to start screaming for help. And guess what?”
“What, sir?”
“He’ll get it. The Hammers will ignore all our diversionary attacks to send every ship they can lay their hands on. They cannot afford to lose their precious antimatter plant. That’s why this lot”-he waved a hand at the green
