'That's correct, Sir. So their four-pod salvos were effectively rolling almost as many missiles as their SD(P)s' six-pod salvos.'
'How in God's name did they cram that many missiles into a single pod?' Marquette demanded.
'I know I'm in charge of NavInt, Sir, but that's a question I just can't answer. Not yet. We do know they've gone to a fusion plant, instead of capacitors, in their current-generation MDMs. All indications, however, were that they were sticking with about the same number of birds per pod and simply reducing the size of each pod, to get more combat endurance rather than greater salvo density. That doesn't seem to be what they've done here, though, and so far, we don't have a clue how you could possibly stuff that many missiles-even if they are fusion- powered-into battlecruiser-sized pods. Some of my people are suggesting that we must be looking at an entirely new missile, but if we are, they managed to keep its development completely black. Which, unfortunately, wouldn't exactly be a first. Say what you will about the Manties, they're clearly aware of the importance of their tech advantage, and they're very good at maintaining security on their R&D programs.'
'Fourteen birds,' Marquette muttered, shaking his head. 'Jesus. If they do start packing their SD(P)s' pods that full, proportionately, we're going to be in even more trouble in a long-range duel.'
'Agreed,' Trenis said. 'On the other hand, they appear to have concluded that sixty-missile salvos are about the max for their fire control. For the moment, at least.'
'Sure,' Marquette snorted. 'Until they get around to upgrading it!'
He frowned down at the tabletop, considering what he'd been told so far, then inhaled deeply.
'All right. Whatever else we may think about Admiral Beach's tactics, or the casualties he suffered, we're damned lucky we got all the tactical info that we did. And we wouldn't have, if he'd declined to fight. Another point,' he looked up at Trenis, 'to be considered when the Board sits on Milligan's actions.
'I can tell from what you've already said,' he returned his attention to Lewis, 'that Admiral Theisman and I are going to want to sit down and spend some time with your detailed, written report. And, as you've already observed, it's imperative we get all of this information to Admiral Foraker as soon as possible.
'However, I want you personally, Victor, to concentrate on something else.'
'Sir?'
'There's going to be hell to pay in Congress when news of this is confirmed. People are going to be screaming for additional protection for their constituents, and it's going to be damned hard to tell them no. By the same token, if we're looking at an increased technological inferiority, it's going to be more imperative than ever that we keep our combat power concentrated. I can't begin to predict how that's all going to play out-politics, thank God, aren't part of my turf! But I do know, from the brief conversations I've had so far with the Secretary, that he's going to want some sort of prediction of where they're likely to do this to us next.'
'Sir,' Lewis said, his expression troubled, 'I don't see any way to do that. There are literally dozens of places they could hit us the way they did here. We've got maybe twenty-five or thirty first-tier systems, and that many again secondary or tertiary systems. Without completely dispersing our fleet strength, we can't begin to cover that broad an area against attacks in the strength these demonstrated. And I'm afraid tea leaf-readers have at least as good a chance as my analysts do of predicting which of them we need to cover. For that matter, if they scout aggressively enough, they'll be able to tell where we've beefed up the defenses and simply go someplace else. What they did with their stealthed destroyers and FTL arrays this time around is proof enough of that.'
'I assure you, I'm already painfully aware of the points you just raised,' Marquette said grimly. 'I'm also aware that I'm asking you to do something which is quite possibly impossible. I don't have any choice but to ask you, however, and you don't have any choice but to figure out how to do it anyway. There has to be some sort of underlying pattern to their target selection. I can't believe someone like Harrington is just reaching into a hat and pulling out names at random. For that matter, the spacing on this cluster of raids demonstrates she isn't. So try to get inside her head. Run it through the computers, kick it around, try to get some sort of feel for what kind of tendencies or inclinations may be pushing her choices.'
'We can do that, Sir-run it through the computers and kick it around, I mean. Whether or not we can get 'inside her head' is something else entirely. And, Sir, I'm afraid that even if that's possible, we're going to need a bigger sample of her target selections before any pattern begins to suggest itself. In other words, I don't think I'll be able to give you any sort of prediction until after she's hit us again, possibly more than once.'
'Understood,' Marquette said in a heavy voice. 'Do your best. No one's going to expect miracles out of you, but we need your very best on it. If we can guess right, even once, and smack her with heavier forces than she anticipates-maybe even mousetrap one of her raiding forces-we may be able to make them reconsider this entire strategy.'
Chapter Twenty-Three
'That's the last of them, Your Grace.'
'Everyone?'
'Yes, Ma'am.' Mercedes Brigham smiled hugely at Honor. 'According to the preliminary reports, we didn't lose anyone on combat ops.'
'That's... hard to believe,' Honor said. She reached up to gently caress Nimitz's ears and shook her head. 'Mind you, I'm delighted to hear it. I just didn't expect it.'
'Good planning, good target selection, detailed pre-attack reconnaissance, FTL sensor capability, overwhelming force advantage at the point of contact, and Katanas to smack hell out of their piece-of-crap LACs.' Brigham shrugged. 'Ma'am, we were playing with our deck, and they didn't even get to cut the cards, much less shuffle.'
'Not this time,' Honor agreed. 'I suspect they're going to make it a priority to see to it we don't do that to them again, though.'
'Which was the entire point of the exercise, wasn't it, Your Grace?'
Brigham grinned at her. Nimitz bleeked in amusement, echoing the chief of staff's cheerfulness, and Honor was forced to smile back at her.
'Yes, Mercedes. Yes, it was,' she agreed. 'And I rather suspect the Admiralty's going to be pleased with us.'
'I'm sure they are,' Brigham said a bit less jubilantly. 'And they're also going to want us to go out and do it again, as soon as we can.'
'Of course they are, although I'm sure we'll have at least a couple of weeks to plan.'
'I'd like to have more time, Your Grace,' Brigham's tone was downright sober this time. Honor looked at her a little quizzically, and the chief of staff shrugged. 'Part of the reason it went so well this time was that you, Andrea, Admiral Truman and Admiral McKeon, and I had so much time to kick it around. There was time to look at the best current intelligence data, to model the attacks, to think about where their rear area coverage was going to be weakest. With less time, we're more likely to miss something and stub our toes.'
'It's always that way, isn't it?' Honor's smile was a bit more crooked than the artificial nerves in the left side of her face could normally account for. 'Remember what Clausewitz said.'
'Which quote this time?'
''Everything in war is very simple, but the simplest thing is difficult.''
'Well, he got that one right, Your Grace.'
'He got quite a few of them right, actually. Especially for a theorist who never exercised high command himself. Of course, he got some of them wrong, too. In this case, though, I think we'll probably be okay for at least Cutworm II. Especially if any of our additional units have reported in while we were away.'
'That would be nice, wouldn't it? Care to place any small wagers on whether or not they have?'
'Not particularly.' Honor shook her head, her smile tarter than ever. 'We should know in the next few hours, one way or the other. In the meantime, Tim,' she looked over her shoulder at her flag lieutenant, 'please have Harper make a general signal. I'd like all flag officers to repair aboard the flagship, with their senior staffers, by fourteen-thirty hours. I want them prepared to discuss each system, including analysis of damage inflicted, and any observations on the Havenites' system defense doctrine. I also want discussion of how well our current doctrine and hardware worked and any suggestions for how we might make further improvements. And tell them to plan on staying for dinner.'
'Yes, Ma'am.' Lieutenant Meares grinned. 'But this time, they all know what that means!'
