The Price of Conquest

"Are you proposing we ignore all attacks on Confederate worlds?" Commander Aerhom's voice was calm, but the slight narrowing of his eyes and the frown that traced lines in the fair skin around his mouth revealed the true extent of his concern.

"I can't see any other choice, Kai," Jonathan said, and then glanced across the conference table in hopes of gaining some small measure of support from the younger Teneian officer seated there.

Lieutenant Satra met her captain's eyes with an almost curious look.

Jonathan sighed and forced down a resurgence of the despondency he'd been combating for the past day and a half, ever since embarking on the journey from Calton to Teneia. The damage to Stingray One's hull had been too great to allow use of the ITD, and he was not looking forward to the two and a half additional days it would require to reach Teneia using the Stingray's hyperdrive. Almost idly, he wondered how other ship commanders used the time while their vessels were in hyperspace, time his experience told him was wasted.

He sighed again and tried to reassure himself. Teneia needed more time to complete the process of growing One's new nelux hull, so arriving sooner wouldn't make much difference; he'd just have to waste time there instead. But his decision to call a planning session with Aerhom and Satra hadn't seemed like a waste of time when he first thought of it—although at this point, his first officer might have a different opinion on that subject. So might Satra, for that matter.

He looked up to find Aerhom watching him intently, his apprehensive frown of moments before changed to a look of concern. Satra's expression mirrored the look, and Jonathan realized he had allowed himself to get lost in his silent grumbling about the situation. Well, that was a way to pass the time, too.

"Kai, look at it this way," he said, determined to convince his first officer of the sound reasoning behind his decision, "optimistically, we have three supporters remaining among the admirals, Gaunis has four. That leaves two undecided. Let's give them to Gaunis. That gives the High Admiral seven dreadnoughts to use against our one remaining Stingray."

"Six dreadnoughts," Aerhom corrected, "I doubt the Esprit will be ready to return to active duty for some time."

"True, but I wasn't counting the Esprit. Admiral Len's dreadnought was not destroyed with its commander, and you can be certain Gaunis will give command of the vessel to someone who supports him."

Aerhom nodded his concession.

"Now," Jonathan went on, "let's assume the High Admiral plays it safe—but not too safe—and splits his forces. Giving him the benefit of the doubt regarding the efficiency of his organization and travel times, that gives him the chance to capture two of our worlds, say—every ten days. It shouldn't take much more than ten days to repair One, including our travel time to Teneia." He glanced at Satra for confirmation.

The tech officer shrugged noncommittally. "Assuming they've got the new hull ready when we arrive, and they don't find something wrong with the ship that we didn't detect."

"Okay, discounting that unlikely occurrence and giving Gaunis back his Esprit after ten days worth of repairs, they'll have eight ships and we'll have two."

"They'll also have two more Confederate worlds," Aerhom said.

"Granted. But my concern is the four-to-one ratio of ships. Before Calton, that wouldn't have bothered me, but now that Gaunis knows he can use those planet-busters against us, I don't want either of the Stingrays in the same system as a Patrol ship until we have a way to stop those bombs.

"Now, let's give ourselves an additional ten days—and the Patrol another pair of our planets," he added before Aerhom could. "That gives us a total of twenty days to come up with some way to beat those bombs." He looked at Satra again. "Can we do it?"

"I suppose it's possible."

"All right," Jonathan continued, slapping both hands palms-down on the table before him. "So, what do we have? In twenty days, we should be able to face the Patrol again, but they'll have captured four of our worlds." He met his companions' gazes. "Sounds pretty miserable, doesn't it? But consider the alternative. If we try to face down the Patrol with no defense against their planet-busters, we're going to lose the Stingrays altogether. Then where will the Confederacy be?"

He paused to give Aerhom and Satra a chance to comment, but they remained silent, either accepting his logic or so completely disgusted by the discussion that they had nothing to say. He counted on the former.

"So, what we're left with," he continued, "is the problem of finding a way to beat those bombs or—better yet—finding a way to use them against Gaunis. We know they provide huge amounts of electromagnetic energy. Is there any way a Stingray can return that much energy?"

Satra cocked her head to one side in what Jonathan recognized as a thoughtful look.

"Theoretically, it's possible," she answered after a moment's consideration. "But we'd have to overcome the problem of converting it before sending it back, and any system we design and build in only twenty days is bound to work only once. The energy involved would almost certainly destroy it."

"But it would be one hell of a discharge, wouldn't it?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes, sir. Probably enough to destroy a dreadnought, maybe two if you could catch both within a narrow enough targeting range."

Jonathan frowned. "Only two?"

"At most, sir. There's no way we could store the energy. We'd have to process it and discharge immediately—all of it. There'd be no way to split it into separate shots."

Jonathan continued to frown, pondering the problem.

"But a discharge that size would almost certainly destroy whatever ship it hits," Satra continued on a possibly more upbeat note. "There's no chance it would be firing back."

Jonathan nodded. "But even if both Stingrays got lucky enough to take out two dreadnoughts, that still leaves three untouched. Is there any chance we could outfit another nelux-equipped ship with such a system? Maybe the Cheops?"

"I don't think so, sir," Satra said. "Stingrays were designed to handle energy, and even they'd have a difficult time. There's no way a non-Teneian vessel could do it. Not in the time you've allotted us anyway."

"We need a way to take out more ships at once," Jonathan said, thinking out loud. "Could we send the energy out in an unfocused wave, rather than a discharge?"

"You mean allow the entire hull to generate the discharge in all directions?" Satra asked. "It could be done, but the energy would be too diffuse by the time it reached any enemy vessel, and there'd be no way to protect allied ships, which would be much closer and get more of the discharge."

Jonathan nodded in disappointed agreement. The suggestion had been little more than vocal brainstorming, but he thought for a moment he was onto something. It seemed they were stuck with Satra's original estimate of two dreadnoughts per Stingray. But that simply was not enough.

"One thing we haven't considered," Aerhom said into the lengthening silence.

Jonathan glanced up hopefully, but the look on the commander's face did not promise a new idea.

"Is the complete destruction of a dreadnought acceptable?" Aerhom asked.

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"You require something more than complete destruction?" Jonathan asked with a quizzical expression.

"On the contrary, sir. I was thinking about the casualties involved. Dreadnoughts have a huge complement of personnel. You have stated repeatedly that we are fighting High Admiral Gaunis, not the Patrol. Should those thousands of Patrol soldiers be made to pay for the sins of one man?"

Jonathan stared at Aerhom for a long time, contemplating the man's statement and letting the uncomfortable truth behind it sink in. Satra, too, was showing signs of remorse.

But did the lives of a few thousand enemy soldiers really figure into the equation of freedom for billions? Jonathan thought about it, and then nodded to himself. For better or worse, they did—at least they did to him. Maybe such compassion made him unfit for his role as a war leader, and maybe it would cost them victory, but he could not approve any idea that cost the lives of so many people whose only crime was following the orders of their commanding officer.

"Thank you, Kai," he said quietly. "You're absolutely right. That is not an acceptable price."

Aerhom nodded solemnly, almost regretfully; very much unlike a man who had just rightfully brought to light such a grave point of morality.

"Unfortunately," Jonathan said, "that puts us back near the beginning of our problem, only with a new element—how to defeat Gaunis without costing the lives of more or less innocent people."

"We were able to do it with the Kinsa," Satra reminded him.

"There were still a lot of casualties," he said. "And we only managed that by taking Gaunis completely by surprise—with Shaw's help. As much as I appreciate Shaw's present aid, I doubt he'll be able to lure any dreadnoughts within range of a Stingray. In fact, I doubt Gaunis will be allowing any of his dreadnoughts to travel alone any longer, or without planet-busters on board. And that brings us right back to the root of the problem—the bombs."

He stood and crossed the conference room to a waist-high cabinet in the back corner. He pressed his hand to a printlock set to respond only to him and pulled open the door, revealing an array of bottles and glasses.

"Thinking is thirsty work." He glanced toward the two officers at the table. "Would either of you care for a drink?"

They both nodded.

Jonathan took their orders and turned to the makeshift bar, setting out each of the bottles and glasses in front of him as he set out each fact in his mind.

First problem: Gaunis had control of energy—lots of energy—in the form of his planet-busters. The bombs would probably arrive via something other than drone fighters next time, but they would arrive, and those arrivals would provide a Stingray with energy in just the form she wanted it; only far, far too much to convert at once.

He measured ice into the three glasses before him and began to add the proper ingredients to each one, vaguely aware of Aerhom and Satra speaking quietly behind him.

Second problem: Assuming a Stingray could use the bombs' energy, how could it do so without completely obliterating the enemy ships? It would have neither the time nor the ability to ease back on its discharge. It would need to convert and get rid of the energy in one massive blast. But that blast would destroy the equipment that gave it the ability to do the trick in the first place. And even if the equipment survived, it was still a one-shot deal. Once it had been done, Gaunis would know of the ability and do something to counteract it.

He finished mixing the drinks and began returning the bottles to their places in the cabinet. His two companions had grown silent. They watched him as he continued to work and think.

It took nearly another full minute of following the circuitous thoughts he'd been pondering earlier before he realized the flaw in his logic that had kept him from an answer.

He set the three drinks on a tray, carried them to the table and passed them around, then he took his seat at the table's head, his expression still thoughtful as he worked his way through the final stages of his idea. Finally, he looked up, straight at Satra.

"Is there any reason we have to convert the energy we get through the hull, rather than just use it in the form we receive it?"

"We have to convert it to a form we can focus into a discharge."

"If we want to use a discharge, which we don't, because that will do too much damage to the enemy ships. So, what if we use the energy in the form we get it, and don't bother with a discharge?"

"That won't work, sir. As I said before, the energy would be too diffuse. There won't be time to convert it and—"

Jonathan silenced her with an upraised hand. "We won't need time for conversion, Lieutenant. We'll be sending the energy back in the form we receive it—an electromagnetic pulse. Only we'll be sending it back in a concentrated wave."

"A focused EMP?"

Jonathan nodded. "Will it work?"

Satra returned Jonathan's nod slowly. "Yes, sir, I believe it will," she said, her eyes and smile widening. "It will work quite effectively."

Jonathan's expression reflected his lieutenant's smile. He cocked his head at Commander Aerhom. "Well, Kai, does that meet with our moral standards?"

The commander was expressionless. "You intend to shut down the enemy vessels using an EMP?"

"Why not? They did it to us. And a lot less people will get hurt that way. Even with its life-support system down, a ship can support its crew for hours—long enough for them to agree to surrender. It could make for a very short, relatively bloodless battle."

"If we can do it."

"I'm sure we can, sir," Satra told the commander. "The modifications shouldn't take more than a few days per vessel. We might even be able to outfit ships like the Cheops. And since most of the converters won't be needed, we can use them as momentary batteries to store the energy between pulses. We might even be able to get more than one shot out of each pulse that hits us. Of course, if any of our own vessels are in the way at the time—"

"We'll try to keep them clear," Jonathan said.

"Maybe we can avoid using them," Aerhom suggested.

"No, that would look too suspicious to the enemy ships. They might suspect a trap and pull back. And I don't want to take the Stingrays into battle without protection." Suddenly remembering his drink, he picked it up, took a deep draught, and then looked at Satra again.

"Do you know if the Teneian techs have got that stasis field generator perfected?" he asked, recalling the comment he'd made in Shaw's office about the difficulty of shielding against an EMP, and realizing a way they might be able to do so.

"They've got a few working models," Satra said, "but I'm not sure how reliable they are. Why?"

"We may be able to use them on our fighters against an EMP. We could key the field to the pulse and use it to protect the ships' vital systems. Would that work?"

Satra thought for a moment. "It would take a lot of power, probably drain a fighter's primary systems, but it should work. At least it would keep the pilots safe."

"Good. Remember to check into it when we reach Teneia. But our first priority is getting the Stingrays ready for Gaunis's bombs."

"What if he decides not to use them?" Aerhom asked.

"I can't see any reason why he wouldn't," Jonathan said. "It's the one thing he has that he knows can damage a Stingray. But if he doesn't, then we don't have anything to worry about. We know we can beat him without them."

"And if he comes up with something else to use against us?"

Jonathan sighed. "We can always retreat. But that's getting into the realm of pure speculation, Kai. Right now, we're doing enough speculating on the facts we have. There's no way to plan for the unknown, so let's not complicate matters."

"Very well. But this is still only a one-time plan. Once the High Admiral realizes what we can do with his bombs, he won't use them against us again. I do not like to think about what he might, in his anger, do with them instead."

"We'll just have to get all the admirals in one place at one time," Jonathan said. "Make it a final showdown, win or lose, with either the Patrol or the Confederacy coming out on top."

"How do we do that?"

Jonathan considered the question. How could he convince the entire enemy Patrol fleet to gather in one place at one time? It would require a large threat, or a perceived opportunity. Better yet, how about a threat and an opportunity?

"I think it's time the Confederacy went on the offensive," he said.

"You mean to attack a United Galaxy world?" Aerhom asked.

"At least make them think we're attacking."

"Which world?" asked Satra.

Jonathan thought for a moment. "It would have to be one of Gaunis's big worlds: Ularis or Terra or Nepurha. Of those three, I'd choose Terra."

"How will attacking Terra—or any of Gaunis's other worlds—insure that he'll arrive in force?" Aerhom asked.

"Because it will give him the opportunity to do what he undoubtedly wants to do—get all the Confederate forces in one place where he can use his new toys to destroy them."

"He'll never be able to react in time," Satra said. "By the time he realizes we're attacking and gathers the other admirals at Terra—or wherever we attack—we'll have won the planet."

"Not if he knows we're going to attack ahead of time and can arrange to be waiting for us."

"You mean, let him know what we're planning?" Satra asked, giving her captain a dubious look.

"And let him set a trap for us?" Aerhom's expression mimicked the lieutenant's.

"Of course." Jonathan kept his tone dry and matter-of-fact. "It's the one way to be sure he'll be waiting for us in force. Unless either of you can come up with another idea?"

They glanced at one another, and then looked back at Jonathan, silent. Evidently they had none.

"But how do we let Gaunis know what we're planning to do without making him suspect it's a trap?" Satra asked.

Jonathan smiled. "Simple, we use the leak on Arecia."