Fleet Action (wc-3) William Forstchen (fox in socks read aloud .txt) 📖

turning to him for guidance. Now instead they were eager to close in on him for the kill. But there was more. He felt a cool distaste for what the Emperor now proposed. Though he wanted to see the humans humbled and defeated, he found that of late he was feeling something far more, what could almost be called, if not a fondness, at least the beginning of a respect. He knew he was falling into a trap, that if one studied his enemy long enough, and came to know him, in the end one would find things, beliefs, and individuals one could identify with. What the Emperor was now proposing was monstrous.

"Such an action will arouse them to a frenzy," Jukaga said. "They will fight as they have never fought before."

"They are animals to be hunted," the Emperor replied.

"No, my lord."

A stunned silence filled the chamber at his direct contradiction to the Imperial word. He did not care. How could he even begin to explain what he knew, the countless examples of humans, motivated to fight without thought of self, fully willing to die fighting rather than submit.

"Terror will not breed submission as it did with others," Jukaga said quickly. "It will instead create a wish, as the humans put it 'to take one of the bastards with me.'"

The utterance of an obscenity, which to the Kilrathi was the most foul of insults shocked the other clan leaders.

"Do what is assigned to you, Baron," the Emperor replied sharply. "Convince them to submit. Now leave me!"

Baron Jukaga backed out of the room, barely inclining his head.

Jason "Bear" Bondarevsky opened his eyes as the distortion field from the transit jump settled down and looked over at his navigation officer.

"Alignment correct, star lock confirmed, jump was on the mark."

"Tactical," and he turned in his chair to look at the officer hovered over the holo display of the sector.

"Bannockburn in position eighty nine thousand clicks dead ahead. Too early to tell yet, sir, on passive optical sweep. At jump transit our pursuers, three corvettes and one frigate, were forty-two thousand nine hundred clicks dead astern and gaining at eight point two clicks a second."

Jason nodded. There was time to scout around before worrying about the back door.

"Flight deck."

"Doomsday here, sir."

"How are the birds?"

"All fighters ready and armed, just give us the prey."

"What about munitions?"

Doomsday gave his usual glum look.

"Enough for one more strike, sir. Eight torpedoes are all we have left for ship busters. The fighters will have to sortie with half standard missile and mass driver round bolts."

"Standby."

"Paladin on laser lock, sir."

Jason looked over at the communications officer and nodded for her to put it on the main holo.

"How goes it, laddie?"

Jason smiled. Even though he was technically the commander of this two ship fleet, he knew Paladin would never follow protocol of address and the fact was refreshing.

"Fighters are up and armed. Damage control's repaired the hull breech in the port engine room."

"And Vance?"

"Madder than hell. Seems Sparks broke one of his computers moving it out, said something about the machine costing just under half a billion. Sparks frowned, then said he could dock her pay if he was upset, but she had fighters to service."

"Good for Sparks. She's a rare lass," Paladin laughed and then his features went glum.

"We've got some trade up ahead, lad. Another cruiser just came through from the jump point leading back to Kilrah with two destroyers leading. Looks like standard tactical for more coming behind. I tapped into their comm channel and they're madder than hell and lookin for blood."

"Can we run past them to our jump point?"

"Just barely."

Jason punched into the engine room.

"Shovel on the coal back there. I want full thrust, fuel scoops closed."

"Close the scoops and we'll run her bone dry by the next jump.

"Just do it."

He switched back to Paladin.

"Let's get the hell out of here, and hope they don't have more waiting at the next jump."

"Laddie, from the looks of It I think the whole Empire is gonna be stirring to fry us."

"Let's just hope Kruger figures a way to get us out of here.

CHAPTER TEN

Admiral Geoffrey Tolwyn stood up and walked to the front of the room. He looked down the length of the conference table and felt a cold twinge of pain. So many familiar faces were gone, killed in the bomb attack. It felt strange now to be standing before this group; after all it was Banbridge's job to run Third Fleet. He suddenly felt old and very lonely. He pushed the thought aside.

"Good morning."

He paused, reached into his breast pocket, pulled out an envelope and opened the letter. A paper letter such as the one he was holding was a wonderful gesture out of the past, part of the old traditions that the military still hung on to.

"By order of the JCS, Admiral Geoffrey Tolwyn is appointed commander Third Fleet as of this date, with the primary mission of meeting, engaging, and destroying any hostile invasion into Confederation space which is directed towards the inner system of worlds. You are authorized to employ any means necessary as outlined in Emergency Decree 394 issued this date by the President of the Confederation. Your command will include 3rd Destroyer Group, Commodore Polowski commanding . . ."

He paused and looked back up at the group.

"Anyhow, all of you are listed here," he said quietly, "and if you aren't listed, I'm taking you anyhow," and the room echoed with nervous laughter.

Geoff activated the main holo screen which displayed the new Kilrathi heavy carriers, while a side screen displayed the surmised position of the fleet and its possible route into Confederation space.

A low murmur of voices filled the room as the dozen group and squadron commanders, representing the ships and Marine assault regiments under his command examined the data.

"Our task is to meet and stop this force before it gains the inner worlds of the Confederation."

"Just how many fighters will these ships carry?" Lyford Beverage, commander of the First Cruiser Squadron