exhaust vents tunneling through thirty meters of ship before reaching open space. If a spread of missiles were closing from astern, the engines could be throttled off and the exhaust vents slammed shut, the missiles impacting impotently against heavy durasteel. The shields could then be retracted, or if need be blown clear and the engines unharmed, fired back up.
The first carrier passed, followed by four more and the Emperor watched, speechless. So this was the culmination of years of secret planning and the stripping of the best resources of the Empire. All for this, a fleet of ships unlike anything ever before seen in this sector of the universe. When the war with the humans was done, such ships could even stand against the Mantu, if they should dare to return.
'Grandson, with this fleet victory is ours.'
'Remember, my Emperor, the fleet is but half the size we planned,' Thrakhath said cautiously. 'Victory should not be counted until the blood of the prey is in one's mouth.'
The Emperor nodded, realizing that his enthusiasm had taken hold too deeply. He was still shaken by the murder attempt. It had been his dream to see at least one ceremony of Sivar in the burned ruins of Earth, for he knew that it would not be much longer before his ancestors finally called.
'Bring me victory,' the Emperor finally said, 'that is all I ask. You should take Earth in time for Sivar, we'll celebrate it there. Be sure that it is ready for my arrival.'
'Yes, my Emperor.'
'And as for Jukaga, have you found anything more?'
'Three have died under the question, none have spoken. His path seems to be secured. If we put him directly to the question, the other clan leaders would again object. That path is closed as well.'
'Then take him with you on this expedition,' the Emperor said quietly.
'Grandfather?'
'You heard me. I've summoned him to this ship, he is in the next chamber. He is to go with you.
'He is head of spies, it is not his role to be a fleet warrior.'
'He is a clan leader, a post of honor with the fleet he can not refuse. I think you will know what to do with him once battle is joined.'
'It might be dangerous having him with us,' the Prince replied.
'You will find a way,' and the Emperor turned, motioning for a guard to open the door into a side chamber.
Baron Jukaga entered, looking around cautiously. When summoned to the cruiser he had not known what to expect, and now the moment had come
'Arise, my Baron. Was not the sight of our fleet wondrous?'
Jukaga stood up again.
'Wondrous.'
'And what of the Confederation government?'
'Their senate still debates. It was reported however that two carriers sortied from their main base above their moon with a third to soon follow, and that the shipyards are working full time to prepare those in drydock for launching as well. Even though their government debates, their new president is acting quickly, with declaration of war or without. There have been forays by the Landreich into our territory, but no deep penetrations.'
'I cannot even begin to comprehend how they function, the Emperor replied.
Jukaga nodded as if in agreement.
And that is why you never won, you old fool, he thought coldly.
'I have a new assignment for you, Baron.'
He waited, tense and expectant.
'You go with the fleet to speak to their leaders one more time before we strike.'
The Baron nodded. Would they simply arrange 'an accident?' That now seemed to be the path.
'I am master of spies, my Emperor. Would not one of your warrior leaders be more appropriate?'
'You know this species of prey the best. It is your voice that they know, let them hear it one more time before we strike. You seemed disturbed by our ultimate plans, let us see if you can convince them to submit and thus save this species you seem to like so much.'
He looked around the room, which was filled with the leaders of the new fleet. He was trapped and could not refuse.
'As you command it, my Emperor.'
The Emperor turned away back to his grandson.
'Your plan is set, then?'
'Yes, my Emperor. The fleet will head towards the frontier at flank speed. Refueling tankers will accompany them so that we may move swiftly without need of deploying fuel scoops. The Second Fleet of the Claw, with four of our older carriers, will join us before we reach the frontier and make the first penetration, thus shielding our main fleet as long as possible. The Fourth Fleet of the Claw, with three carriers, will sortie towards the Landreich to pin down any forces they might have there, preventing them from shifting against our flank. The First Fleet of the Claw, with three carriers, will make up the reserve. The other carriers have been stripped of their crews and pilots for the Fifth Fleet and will be held in reserve.'
'That is ten carriers,' the Emperor said quietly.
'You know the shortage of trained pilots has become serious. Either our best pilots went with our new carriers or else the new fleet would be manned by pilots with no combat experience. It will be a year before we have enough fully trained pilots and fighters to bring the older reserve carriers back to operational strength.
The Emperor nodded grimly.
'So let it be,' he said, turning away. 'Now bring me victory.'
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Weary with exhaustion, Captain Jason Bondarevsky strode across the landing field towards the command post with Admiral Richards behind him. Stepping onto the veranda he coldly eyed the two Landreich guards at the door.
'I'm here to see Kruger.'
'We have no orders to let you pass, sir.'
'To hell with your orders, I want to see that son of a bitch now,' and he moved to shoulder his way past the guards.
Caught by surprise they backed up slightly and then physically moved to block the doorway, one of them grabbing him by the shoulder.
'Listen, sir, don't make me get rough about this,' the guard snapped.
'Get the hell out of my way right now, mister.'
'Hold it, Jason,' and he looked back at Richards. 'They're just following orders.'
The guards looked to Richards with some relief. They obviously knew that Kruger would skin them alive if anyone got past. They knew as well who it was they were trying to stop, and even if he was Confederation, he was also a first class hero.
'Sir, if you stay put, I'd go in and get my captain,' a sergeant growled, coming out of the doorway to the aid of the two guards.
'Well, damn it, go get him,' Jason snapped, and the sergeant turned and went into the building.
Jason paced up and down the length of the veranda angry at everything, his mood made worse by the searing heat of the Hell Hole. He could feel the moisture draining out of his body, barely cooling his skin before evaporating.
He looked back at one of the guards.
'You know something, corporal, this planet of yours truly sucks.'
The corporal showed the faintest of smiles.
'I fully agree,' he whispered.
